Author's Note

Discalimer 2.
This story does not take place in the Fallout Equestria universe that Kkat created. I made my own lore for a Fallout/MLP crossover before touching the FoE works. Things will be the same, things will be different, take it or leave it.

This is a heavy Fetish and Kink based story. Here is a list of some of the kinks within:
Rubber and latex, heavy bondage, gags/muzzles, chastity, plugs/dildos. All of this in an institutional type setting.
I'd classify this as a clop fic.

Preparation

The bombs that fell scarred the world, turned life sour, twisted it into dark remnants of what it was. Cheerfully colored ponies, burnt black by the flash, red from the seeping wounds began to turn on each other. Life was strangled out of the land.

The Princesses were gone. Whether incinerated from the bombs, or their hearts broken by the ruin, no one knew. They took the light, honor and hope of Equestria with them. There was a sliver of hope left in their absence. Deep underground structures were created, structures known as ‘Arks’. The remnants of the equestrian species fled to them, to endure the poison and fiery storms above. Eventually the Arks opened up to a scarred and warped land.

Some of these ponies took upon the mantle of rebuilding the world. Many found their dreams dashed, whether from a bullet or the noose. A few of the lucky ones serve at the behest of a cruel master. They quickly learned that dreams die in the wastes, or they did.

Some made progress, returning the world to a shadow of its past glory. Those with the ideas of friendship started towns, raised armies to fend off those that wanted to take and not give. Small spots of color in a bleak world, ponies made names for themselves, were spoken of even after they passed. Seeking or bumbling into glory headlong, they became legends.

Here we have neither. Three ponies who don't know the safety of an Ark, nor the serenity of a good night’s sleep. It becomes tiring and makes one iritable. Neither murderers or saviors, the trio hunted for caps, bits and scrap to fill their stomachs by the end of the day. They never sought trouble, but were capable of bringing it when necessary.

"An Ark? That's what we are after?!" The unicorn shouted, though paused once the entirety of the bar turned toward the table where he sat. "That is what we have been scraping by for? Logically there are no Arks that haven't been raided already, or have proven to be impenetrable by mundane means. It's a total waste of time going into one of those traps. If there was anything worth taking in the abandoned ones, it would have been done already. Radiation, ghouls and errant security bots alone would tear us to shreds!"

The other ponies paused, as if waiting for more from the bespectacled stallion. He swept his long strait hair back, to keep it off the table and away from the beer bottle before him. "Oh, that's all." He said, still getting used to the group dynamic, as he was still fresh with the 'team'.

"Ok-" the large earth pony mare with a mane cut that looked like a dust devil picked up a salon and she was unfortunately in its path. Short, random pieces stuck out near the longer ones. She cut her own mane, enough to keep it from her eyes, and it did look that way. "Imagine this: An Ark, built for only the wealthiest ponies. Free from the twisted programming and experiments that other Arks had. This vault was meant for high society, their every need taken care of by a fleet of robots what grew, harvested and served the meals. They want for nothing and merely enjoy life and its luxuries."

"I have been gathering information for a while now, and thanks to Ticker's hacking skills," she nodded to the unicorn who had previously spoken, "I have narrowed down its location. More importantly, a way inside." The monstrously large mare leaned in to the group, whispering the next part. "An Ark that large has to have a few ways inside it. I believe that a mine, located nearby has the way in. It's built too close to it for it to be a coincidence."

"Ok..." the third member, a smaller mare with a slightly curled mane said. ”So we get into the mine, find this Ark and the way in. Then what?"

"If the fragments we pulled from an Arkitecture server are correct, the Ark is split into two areas: The large and luxuriously furnished living area. Then the other half, the support side of the Ark. The part where the robots labor in underground areas to produce the food, mine the ores for expanding and repairing as time goes on. A ponyless, automated area filled with supplies for the robots’ self-repair systems, food processing and storage. Ours for the taking!"

"See, you keep saying robots," Ticker grimaced. "We'd have to shut them down, and that means wading through a whole sea of the things before we even get to the terminal. That means fighting them, and three against enough robots to feed and provide for an entire Ark, those are odds beyond calculation. I don't fight and I made that clear." His nervousness forced his hoof to push the glasses back on his muzzle, the thought of such a battle caused undetectable tremors in his body, enough to unseat his glasses.

"They are service robots. This Ark relied on secrecy to keep itself safe. The constructors believed that any effort and materials in security were a diversion from being pampered. They aren't going to attack." The large mare, who was named Skye, confidently said. Even as a foal she was large, and now, she towered over any stallion by a head.

"And if that doesn't work, I have my hammer." Lily, the smallest of the group said. Her size was a concern initially when she joined up, but she made up for that in strength. Wielding a hammer half her weight, if there wasn't a door to open, she was able to make one. She wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but the ability to pass as helpless one second and quickly drive a pony's ribcage past it's spine with a single kick made up for that.

"I can see you two have made up your mind..." Ticker sighed. He feared that joining up with two head strong ponies as technical support seemed like a bad idea. Now he was going to either trot back to where he came, hundreds of miles away, or join in on a suicide mission. Perhaps while they are fighting he can slip away...

"So, are you in?" Lilly grinned at him, her head barely above the table when standing. Her smile conveyed something more than an eager attempts to get him to say yes, something he couldn't read, but there was a clandestine meaning behind it.

"Yes... I'll go." he sighed. It was going to be something he'd regret, he was sure of it. "So, where is this Ark and why have we been saving a mountain of caps?"

"In the shadow of the Unicorn Range, between the Canterlot ruins and Vanhoover."

"Bucking hell!" Ticker grumbled, "That is several hundred miles away!"

"The reason why we have that mountain of caps. We travel along the rails as far as they can take us. I've seen a few pump carts near the railyard, we can fix up or buy one of those and use it. That would make the journey faster and safer, flying through irradiated areas and past anything dangerous."

"And what if we come across a section of broken rail? Or cars piled on the track?"

"There are three rails, three chances that one will be clear. Besides, if we run across any unpassable tracks, we have a unicorn to carry the cart." Skye gave Ticker a nudge.

Ticker had to think for a minute before he realized it. He bit back a string of choice curses. Truth be told, he didn't put much stock in his magical abilities, preferring the tactile sensation of his hooves instead of the buzzing cold that rang through his skull when using his horn. Years ago he had thoroughly convinced himself that he was suffering from a well-known disease that force-fed magic back into his brain, destroying higher function cells and would slowly drive himself insane if he used it too often. Or at least that was what the half burnt pre-war medical journal had him believe. It described his feelings perfectly when using magic, to a T. It even explained his egregious intelligence being a side effect, one that would dwindle over time.

Ticker didn't use his magic for a good reason, as he kept seeing himself babbling in a ditch in some shit hole settlement. Sucking cock for caps when he had a moment of clarity, the only thing he saw himself doing. That was the reason he refrained from using magic, chems and trying to eat mostly clean food and water. Anything that progressed what he was sure afflicted him, was something to stay away from. Truth was, he didn't know, but he didn't want to take the risk either.

As the trio left the bar, Ticker began to worry about the beer he had. The two mares half singing and half mumbling a song together in their drunken stupor. They soon arrived at a rundown motel. Long burnt carriages swept to the side, stripped of metal and the wood dry and cracked, unable to rot in the arid region of Las Pegasus.

The makeshift doors and cloth covered windows didn't keep much of the sand and dust out, but it was a visible barrier at the least. The best feature of the motel was neither comfortable beds nor a tasty breakfast in the morning. The best feature was the secure, encased in concrete safes, the armored guards on the roof and the unparalleled security for the cost. The caps and equipment were safe while they were out and asleep.

It was the kind of safety and security everypony was looking for. A meal in their stomachs, a roof over their head and never having to worry about danger again. That, in truth, was what everypony was searching for.

The next day the trio set out to collect what they needed, sold what they couldn't carry. For the most part, they bought food, ammunition from the Gun Trotters and Ticker filled his packs with rad-away and healing salves, saving space for his little invention: A specially made interface board, complete with wired connectors for everything in the wastes. There wasn't a terminal he couldn't get into. The board, or more appropriately box, had a display of lights and a tiny screen interface, something off of a tiny pre-war television, or possibly a Pip-Buck. He never figured out which. Still it was his own, specially designed skeleton key.

Lilly packed her bags with food, to the brim. For such a small pony, she could carry a lot. She was capable of dragging, from a dead stop, an entire train engine across flat land for miles. There wasn't much else to her, as long as she was fed and let loose to smash things every once and a while, there was nothing she longed for. Skye had found her in a raider camp, tangled in a mess of chains, she had managed to kill the captives as they were tying her down. Thankfully the other raiders were out at the time when her chains were cut loose. The two had been fast friends ever since.

Skye was different. Constantly reading and collecting any action comic she could get her hooves on, she billed herself as the frontline pony. Headlong into battle, first to the fight. Her massive size scared the battle hardened, able to trample anypony in her way, leap up great distances. Though her reckless displays of agility came at a cost. There was very little fur on her chest that wasn't thickly scarred; her fore-hooves were no different. Armor was her friend, but it didn't stop all damage. Her burden was the thick plates of steel on her front and sides, and food tucked into a small satchel.

The whole expedition hinged on getting a working pump-cart. At the rail depot they parted with the rest of their caps for what they needed. Information about the condition of the rails and a decently rusted but working cart and they were off.

The track was supposed to be clear to the ruins of Ponyville, but up north towards the Canterlot the track was out. They would have to travel a mile over land with the cart to reach the CloudsDale switch.

The rail ponies gave them something an odd truth. That any rail had been repaired between settlements was a hot spot for raiders, but they never attacked the rail, always the cars. If they attacked the rails, the supplies would stop. The raiders wound up jumping on, taking what they could, dealing with any resistance and then jumping off with what they grabbed.

It made logical sense. A parasite feeding off the body was best served if the host lived for as long as possible. Biting the skin instead of severing the artery. A lot of the more fortified trains simply tossed off excess when they saw a raiding party. Payment for staying away in the simplest terms. Ponies got paid and put extra caps towards extra crops and supplies. It didn't stop them every time, but the ones scrambling for the overboard food weren't going to catch up and fight.

The two mares seemed to be having a good time with the see-saw action piston, driving the cart along at a decent speed. Sensors on the tracks alerted the local raiders throughout the journey, but instead of a slow moving train, a tiny cart sped past. They paused in curiosity and amazement, somepony so brazen to take a pump-cart, then reach blazing speed and whipping out of range when they realized what it was.

Past the ruins of Ponyville they reached a section of track where they needed to slow down. A large rail hub was ahead and the fires, held in buckets from overturn rail cars, were not a welcome sight.

"Think they are friendly?" Skye asked in jest. The silhouettes of carcasses cast upon the three story depot made the inhabitants’ intentions crystal clear. "What do you think?" She asked, passing the binoculars over to Ticker.

He messed with the settings, trying to get his glasses to work with the damned thing and finally found out he needed to hold them away from his eyes to see clearly. He spotted two sentries, one looked drunk, the other steadfast still, possibly asleep. The rail platform had chains across the track, wrapping around the metal rails and up onto the platform and locked to the side rails. There was no way of getting through that station without derailing themselves

Ticker concentrated on the windows, smudged with blood. He was able to make out a few shapes. A mental count brought the number of potentially violent offenders to nearly ten.

"I count ten. Maybe more sleeping. We, um, you can't take that many." his ears flattened against his head. "It's dark, maybe we should wait till morning, and they are half awake, I think that would be the best way to get past."

"How about we just knock?" Lilly grinned, slipping the massive hammer from the sling that nearly encased her torso.

"I agree with that. They sound like they are having a good time, happy raiders won't be likely to attack." Skye said in confidence. Though her confidence was encased in steel plate, and she put on the last part, a shaped muzzle helmet that turned her from a mare into a night-mare.

"Oh Buck no, I'm not getting into this." Ticker whined. "A creepy town is one thing, but skeletal remains on pipes are another thing entirely."

"So stay here, we'll take the cart, deal with them and try to find your remains when irradiated roaches tear you apart out here. All alone. In the dark." Skye knew how to get him riled up, get him moving.

"F-fine..." he stuttered.

"Just look mean." she grinned from under the helmet. "And pump the cart." Skye said, moving to the front of the cart, using her plated body as a shield.

Slowly the cart rolled forward, the ponies above on the hobbled together structure stood alert as they saw them approach. Some were ready to fall over; others held their rifles towards the cart. None fired as they drew to the ram shackle fence doors over the track.

The two ponies on the cart were stunned at what happened next. From the helmet Skye wore, an alien voice emerged. It sounded like death warmed over, the gravelly voice echoed from the louvres in the muzzle.

"Open the door." It growled. The ponies above held firm for a second, they could clearly see the stallion and small mare by the armored abomination that appeared as if it could stand on its rear hooves and swipe them from the gantries. "Do I have to knock?" It asked, picking up the sledge hammer whose head was as large as its own.

The doors screeched open, shaking ponies using all their effort to do as the thing asked. Skye tapped her metal clad hoof once, the cart started to slowly move inside the compound, stopping gently against the chains wrapped around the rails.

Skye stepped off the cart and onto the platform, the ponies moving away from her, the rifles shaking in their hooves. She could easily stomp a few of them out of existence, but the rest would gun the group down. The hulking steel pony stood there, their arrival and grand entrance would surely draw out whoever was in charge.

Silence was broken as a pegasus fluttered down from the roof top. His brown color and purple mane carried a loft that was not seen outside of large settlements. A cream collared and brown leather coat hung around his torso, a flight jacket from the old Wonderbolts in Canterlot. His hooves clopped down onto the platform and he began to trot circles around the massive mare.

"W-what do you w-want?" he asked, a stutter in his voice surprised the party. His body displayed confidence, his demeanor, steel grey eyes pieced the group, sizing them up.

"Passage." The mare growled, her voice sounded like a demonic spawn, breathing in a heavy thrust of air from the muzzle that shook the air around her. The ponies around the figure stepped back, though the apparent leader stepped forward.

This was a tactical choice made by the pegasus. They didn't come in shooting and seemed to only want a way through. They had a massive tank with them as well, surely some mutated pony for muscle. Out in the wastes, it was good to put up an impenetrable facade. The feeling of dread that anypony who tried to stand against them was already in the grave. The pegasus dropped his act, perhaps a tactical blunder, but no good was going to come of either of the sides fighting.

"I n-need some m-medical supplies. M-my wife and a f-few other are wounded." His ears folded flat, his eyes lost compsure and glazed over. "P-please." he stuttered.

"I don't deal with raider scum." the behemoth replied flatly.

"It's n-not like that."

"Explain the corpses strung up then." Skye demanded, moving closer to the pegasus as he began to shrink down on her approach.

"Every p-pony leaves y-you alone if they think y-you are going to k-kill them. We grow w-what we need, t-trade with a select f-few who know. We've n-never held up a train, we let t-them pass, give them s-safety. The d-dead ponies are decorations, n-nothing more."

The entire group surrounding the platform began to break up, heading back to the walls to keep a lookout, few stayed to make sure the situation didn't break down. "P-please, something... anything."

Skye hesitated. By now they would have had a fire fight. The ploy was quite the thing as well. Who would approach the place that looks like a raider base? She breathed a sigh of relief, the gamble paid off. She was sure that they meant no harm, the pegasus was nearly in tears as it was. A pony strung out on chems or alchohol wasn't this cohesive, this emotional.

She reached a hoof up and hefted the helmet from her head, setting it down in front of her. The pegasus was breathless, this monster he thought was a ghoulish mutation was actually a mare of fair complexion, not an abomination of the wastes. Just a really large mare.

"And we can pass safely?" she asked, her voice having returned to normality.

"Y-yes! Just a few m-meds and you can even l-leave right now!" the pegasus exclaimed.

"Show me." Skye said as she nodded to Ticker, indicating that he bring his supplies. "I've had a few nasty wounds myself, kinda had to learn how to take care of myself."

The three made their way inside, still on guard. What in the large rail building was short of amazing. From floor to ceiling it was clean, train cars had been disassembled and put against the walls for protection from bullets. Shelves stocked with dried fruits and vegetables inside access pits, the metal shutters ready to be closed in a moment's notice. Out the metal door to the sideyard, barrel fires lit the crops in an eerie glow.

They walked to the second story, passing shaped aluminum 'ponies' wrapped in clothing. From a distance they would look like bodies. They also noticed that the ones they counted at the window were fake as well. It was a real show of ingenuity. Soon they reached the manager's office, inside were several ponies laid out on makeshift mattresses, piles of blood soaked bandages were being cleaned with alcohol and being dried.

"T-they caught some fire the other d-day. T-take a look."

Skye went towards the mare with a bandage wrapped around her flank and pulled it off. She noticed swelling around the multitude of holes. The next pony had caught one in the back, he was lucky, the bullet had bounced off his spine, doing minimal damage. The third had a smashed leg and was set properly already. She moved back to the mare with the shotgun wound.

"It's infected." She announced, "Did you dig the shot out?"

"N-no."

"Ticker, come here." she waved. The unicorn stood there, the sight of blood churning his stomach. "Come here!" she growled. Slowly the stallion came forth, grimacing at the gore before him. "I need you to feel around, feel for some metal."

Ticker gulped hard and slowly lit his horn. The dull buzz started in his head as he slowly and carefully searched for metal. He closed his eyes, so that he would have to see the green puss ooze from the wound. Soon he found something that didn’t belong and carefully pulled it out of the wound track. The mare began to groan in agony as the pellet made it's way out, gushing a spurt of blood as it was freed.

Skye grabbed the pellet with a pair of tweezers in her muzzle and pressed it against her chest piece. The magnetized plate area sucked the pellet towards it.

"I need a maget or a coil of wire and a battery. Do you have any morphine or sedative?"

"S-some. I'll get it." The pegasus left the room and was back in a few seconds. Another pony from the yard had returned with a broken compressor clutch and gave it to Skye.

She sighed, realizing that it was going to have to do. Skye injected the contents of the syringe into the mare and then moved the large clutch near the flank and wound. Soon the pellets moved towards the magnet, out of the body. Fresh blood flowed from the wound and it was quickly covered.

"Ticker, healing salve." He was ready and his hoof shot up, the leather bag in hoof. She poured the contents out on to the wound and pressed the bandage down hard, grinding the powder inside. Even under the effects of morphine the mare groaned, the pain over powering the drug.

"That is as much as I can do. The salve should stop the infection and start to heal the tissue. The leg had been properly set on the stallion and there is nothing I can do about the wound on the back. It's already been sewn shut and shows no signs of infection. I can't say if it did any damage to the spinal cord, but time will tell. I’d say give them some fresh food and water, but it seems that you have that covered well in hoof."

The pegasus was sitting down near the mare, she placed her hoof on his. "T-thank you." he said to the group. "You c-can have some of our f-food in ret-turn."

The group thanked the pegasus, wished them well and took what was offered. They decided it was best to move out. As much hospitality as they were shown, this was the wasteland. Friends one minute and enemies the next, that was how the world worked these days. They had been lucky so far and decided not to press that luck.

They passed through the rail yard and a few more miles down they found a switching station and pulled the cart into a small metal shed on a sidetrack. Once the doors were secured they laid down to sleep for the night. Things were going suspiciously well for the group. All of them silently waited for the other shoe to drop.

They made good time through the hoof hills of the Unicorn Range, it would seem that Celestia herself was smiling upon the journey. They met no resistance whatsoever as they cruised up to the junction where they needed to disembark off the track for the Clouds Dale line.

The landscape was in their favor. The Las Pegasus/Manehattan line was above the Clouds Dale line, geographically higher. The cart rolled easily down the slope across the clearing, Lilly was also pulling it with a chain. Soon they had the expanse behind them, the cart on the new rail line and were plugging away at the remaining distance.

Ticker argued where the best spot was to disembark the line and begin searching for that Ark. His reasoning was that it had to be nearer to Vanhoover, the ancient map wound up having a mineral guide to Equestria from the pre-war era. The ore deposits were richer in iron, silver and gold with trace amounts of coal dotting the area. If a self-sustaining Ark was to be anywhere, it would be nearest to deposit rich area.

Skye argued that it had to be closer to Clouds Dale, a major hub where they could have easily traveled to and enter the Ark if, or as it was, when the bombs fell. It was an hour away from Canterlot by air. It did make sense for ease of access, but if it was near Clouds Dale, it would have been discovered already. There was a major hub of ghouls living in the irradiated area, friendly if wearing a radiation suit. The deadly levels of radiation kept most away. Ticker began counting the radiation from the Geiger meter, it was above normal, but still safe.

The plan to search near Clouds Dale was, however, cut short. The area was too irradiated. They had to constantly check the meter, and downing anti radiation pills and Rads away too quickly. There was no searching that area.

Outside the irradiated zone, they took a break and the remaining rads-away while they were at it, for good measure. Skye had to admit defeat, though did so through clenched teeth. They had to make their way elsewhere.

One thing they were not prepared for was the cold. The air began to bit into their muzzle and ear tips. All of them had begun taking turns pumping the cart to stay warm. Their teeth chattered as they whipped into the icy wind.

Snow began to fly in the air, small flakes at first, then huge globs. They couldn't stop, there was nowhere to stay. For miles the dead rocky land continued. Blanketed in snow, they saw white for an hour. Soon they passed the ruins of a smeltery. It was covered in snow, but the toppled ore carts were a sign.

They began to look in earnest for a junction, a turn off towards the mining complex. It was more for shelter at this point than the Ark. They were beginning to freeze out in the wind whipped plains. Numb hooves began to fumble the bar and Ticker began to complain of feeling an intense heat.

Skye spotted a pole, bent, but it was a pole. The turn off they had been looking for. She was still standing, but the others had become useless. She switched the track and began to furiously pump the cart, not stopping until it crossed the threshold into the complex and slowed down into an open mine shaft. She pulled the freezing ponies from the cart, kicked the guard shack until it was splinters and crossed the poles on a battery, shorting it out and tossing it on the wooden pile.

Soon the roaring fire had Lilly and Ticker stirring, mumbling in their near frozen slumber. The walls absorbed the heat and radiated it back, making blankets that Skye was searching for unnecessary. Soon they were awake, fully cogent and beginning to realize what had happened.

"Next time, we pack coats..." Ticker said. In this somber moment, everypony just nodded, realizing how close they came to death. "This Ark had better be worth it. We'd better be able to stay there until we die or something. Something to make up for this..." The group nodded again.

"Still, we should press further in. There is a foreman's office down near the first junction. Ticker can work his magic with any terminal, find something in there." There was no objection. They were merely happy to be safe and so close.

Soon the trio was back to moving under their own power, however dampened it was. Luckily, there were no signs of frostbite as they slowly searched the foreman's office.

Ticker broke out his device and jacked it in. Pre-war terminals had a very long life span. It was all military grade material and connections. The shelter of the mine and its position uphill gave it an advantage by keeping water out. Soon the terminal was spooling information from its drive. Entries on increased production piqued his interest as the ticked away at the keys on his board.

Foreman Slate, CE 1:17-2061

Damned War. They got us digging all day and night. Five hour slotted times for sleep and two breaks for lunch and dinner. Most ponies just grab something from the cafeteria for their saddle bags later on. We ain't got time to eat cause we only get food shipments once our quota is filled. Bucking Arkitecture. Between the mine collapses and damned near starvation conditions, we aren't afraid of no bombs.

Foreman Slate, CE 2:31-2061

They had us lay rails. Not just trolley rails, not just ore rails. I am talking heavy rail, military grade stuff. They came from the entrance and went off into shaft 3, drift number 9. I thought those tunnels were oddly large. I need to speak with Arkitechture, I have a meeting with them tomorrow.

Foreman Shale, CE 3:1-2061

I got promoted! Arkitecture said that Slate had an accident. I told them that 'Things happen, and they happen all the time.' They gave me a raise as well! What luck!

Foreman Tungsten, CE 12:13-2061

Cave in again. I told them that that damned train is vibrating the shelf in shaft number 1. I told them, but they didn't listen. Now we have a total collapse, I can't reach any of the miners on any channels, radio or terminal. Half our workforce is dead or missing, the other half is clearing the rubble. I will have to add more later, seems a train of Equestria Guard has arrived, they are going to help with the excavation. Dunno why they need those big guns though.

jklfgjklbrwi, CE 7:21-2291

IT WUS SUPOST TO BE HEER! THAT DAMD ARK! Oh Buck... I thinkk im cuming doun... DAM IT!

"Seems that there was a presence here. Lots of talk about Military trains coming in and out. Seems they usurped shaft number 3 for something. We can follow the heavy rails there. If anything, find drift number 9 in that shaft."

"So it's here?" Skye perked up.

"SOMETHING is here, a munitions cache, an Ark. Something that required military presence. Let's not jump the gun. I have to look over the charts to see. It's going to be a while..." he said.

Skye and Lilly began to search nearby for papers or anything to help. There were remnants of camps, empty tins of food and soiled garments. They found the collapsed tunnel, or at leastthe wall of rubble there. Brass crunched underhoof as they drew closer to the remains of the gate. Brown splintered wood stuck from the rocks. They drew closer and realized that it wasn't wood, it was the flesh wrapped bones of the miners. Desiccated beyond recognition, the taught flesh and soiled clothes bore holes, the bullet casings scattered across the floor behind them spoke of what happened.

Lilly folded her ears flat. "This is wrong." she muttered, drawing in closer to Skye, who was poking through the pockets of the deceased miners. She spied a silver metal card in the pocket of a pony off to the side, his uniform was a blue hue, Arkitecture colors. The pony had been trapped under the cave in and suffered with the miners. The metal card was the size of a hoof, it had slotted holes in the aluminum face and a large blue 'A' on it. "We may need this."

They returned to Ticker who was pouring over large pieces of paper by the light built into his break-out box.

"Hey! I found something."

"What!" The two mares exclaimed together.

"See this-" he moved a hoof over to a section of the number 4, 5 and 6 shafts. The mares looked at it intently, trying to decide if they saw what he did.

"The shafts are deep, but look at the structure of them. The drifts run only North and East!"

"I... what does that mean?" Skye mumbled in confusion.

"See, shaft number three only has drifts going South. The other three shafts travel North and East. Shafts 1 and 2, which are farther out and staggered. They have drifts that run North, South and West, but not East."

"I don't see it. What does that mean?"

"These mine shafts are all drilling away from one area. See?" He motioned towards a rather large area where there were blue dotted lines, not the solid red ones. "The blue lines mean a planned drift, a tunnel. The red ones represent a finished or bored run. It looks like they changes were made daily here."

The mares just stared at him.

"Damnit, it means that they were avoiding the area. They were tunneling around it. With the logs, it seems that they started with shafts 3, 4, 5 and 6 at the same time, increasing production. But as they started shaft 3, they were pulled off of it, working on the other ones, in a direction AWAY from the area planned for shaft 3. It means that there IS something there!" Ticker giggled, relieved that they were right.

"I don't see it, but if you say so, then I believe it."

"Ok ok ok ok... It seems that the lower drift, tunnel. Number 9 was the main loading and unloading area. That's where we will find the door anyway. I'd have to see it, see if I can open it. But if the main controls are on the other side and all we see is a steel door, we can't get in that way."

"Ok, assume we can't get in. What then."

"Um.... let me..." he paused, flipping through pages,” If what we think is right, and the robots are mining outwards, Southward, we could possibly find a way down in shaft 4 or 5. They intersect close to this 'void' area. If we are lucky, then an earthquake or tunnel collapse COULD have us in the mining area of the Ark. Not sure, but it's a chance." Ticker rattled off.

"Ok. Then let's head for the main door, see if we can't crack that open. If not, we'll detour around the area and find the tunnel." Skye nodded.

Ticker grabbed the maps and a grease pencil, tucking them into his lighter saddle bags. He grabbed a few plastic rods as well, biting down hard on one and it began to shine like the sun. Lumex Rods. "We'll need these." he passed the remainder of the pack out to the mares and they began to walk down the West tunnel, following the main tracks into the tunnels.

Soon they were deep within the mountain; several hours of near silent travel had them still on the rails. They began to find corpses, pre-war and some recent ones. Lilly pulled her hammer, Skye took charge, the shotgun mounted to her right hoof and Ticker fell back between them, the safest place.

"Think there is anything here?" he whispered to the two. Skye shrugged in a 'there could be' way. "Because I didn't see and entrance or exit wounds, no lacerations, bites, plasma scarring, residual magic, ligatures around the neck or hooves. From the position of the bodies, the more recent ones, look as if they had laid down and died."

"Thanks Doctor, when I need my prostate checked I'll come to you." Skye mumbled.

"Mares do not have a prostate." he huffed.

"You know what I mean." Skye rolled her eyes.

"I think you mean a gynecological ex-"

The air was filled with a thunderous clap, dirt kicked up from the ground filling the air. A blinding flash had Ticker's eyes seeing white, his ears ringing and disoriented, he began to stumble sideways.

"The Buck was that?!" he shouted, waving a hoof to see if that helped his blinded condition. He'd fallen over and was unaware of that fact until his equilibrium was restored. "Skye?! Lilly, Hello?!" He coughed from the dust, his Lumex Rod was casting a harsh glow on the particles, creating a fog. He thought he heard something and called out again.

"SKYE! SOMEPONY?"

Another blast rang out, this time further down the tunnel. Again his ear drums were slapped with the pressure wave and began to ring. He couldn't see a thing, hear a thing. He whipped his head from side to side, trying to find the other Lumax glows from his friends. There was nothing but his light.

"LILLY!" he shouted. Still couldn't hear anything, no replies nothing. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING!" he screamed, trying to get a response, trying to get information to them. That was the most important thing.

"I'M GOING TO STAY RIGHT HERE. I HAVE MY LIGHT ON!"

Soon the dust settled, leaving his light to cast it's fervor throughout the tunnel. He saw a drop off, the bottomless pit that was shaft number 3. He peered over the side, unsure if he was going to see anything, hoping that he didn't. There was nothing down the hole, nothing he could see.

Another pop happened down the tunnel, it echoed loudly, but it lacked the ear drum searing ring. As it cascaded across the rock face its origin became muttled. Fear spurred him to move, he wasn't going to stay there, his friends were fighting something and he had all the medical supplies. He couldn't just sit here. Another pop, this time it sounded like a rock dropping it was so far away.

Ticker grunted, Buck! He needed to find them. Another successive pop from down a tunnel spurred him to move. He bore down full throttle, the Lumex Rod at his side bouncing, casting moving shadows as he went. He could have easily missed them, down a side drift, an upkick in the floor or a sinkhole. He didn't know where they were going, but he looked down occasionally to see that he was clopping over fresh hoofprints.

There was another distant pop, farther away, behind him. He turned around and sped back down the tunnel, he was sure that the hoofprints he was following had been new. Another pop, this time like a soft shoed hoof clop. Further away still.

The Lumex Rod was fading, it's brilliant glow little more than a weak light, barely able to see his own hooves now. He slowed to a canter and reached around to his saddle bags, his heart stopped.

The flap was unhooked, the bag was empty. His unbridled sprint had rocked the bag and emptied the contents. He cursed under his breath, now he had no supplies, no friends close by. He still had his breakout-box. He was royally Bucked either way.

Another pop, almost a whisper now. He was sure if where it was coming from, down another path that he hadn't seen before. The Lumex was now dead, leaving him to crawl along at a snail's pace, making sure each hoof was meeting solid ground before putting weight on it. His eyes were adjusting now, slowly but they were getting there.

As he rounded a corner, a thunderous blast sounded. It felt as if it shattered his ear drums, his left eye was no longer seeing black, it was blinded white. He cut a scream that curled his own blood, rear hooves pressing him upward with a force he had never felt. Ticker lost where he was, his hooves trying to jackhammer ground like his heart. He couldn't hear, couldn't see and to make matters worse his head hurt now.

The last thing he remembered was air rushing past his body. It felt like the pump-cart, cool and fast. His equilibrium was screaming as the wind changed directions constantly. The world was spinning and he didn't know why, he just tasted black cherries. Odd...