Fallout: Lavender Wastelander

Electrum had found the perfect, secluded spot as the golden rays of the sun peeked over the horizon.

Nothing within a three-hundred meter radius as far as she could see. No passengers to accidentally drag along for the coming ride.

As she adjusted the dials and knobs on the mass-teleport prototype, Electrum considered what she was about to do.

Am I really going to betray everything I was raised to believe?

Electrum touched the bloodied patch on her uniform with her hand. It was cool and damp, staining the fabric. She rubbed the blood between her fingers. She would need to ditch the uniform when on the other side.

I’m supposed to be loyal. One of the best and brightest of the Enclave and SOCOM. Is there a way for me to go back?

She grit her teeth and traced the stimpak-closed wound with a fingertip.

I was betrayed first.

She pressed the activation button, and the device thrummed to life as it built up energy.

<>~<>~<>

Twilight Sparkle let out a satisfied hum as she swallowed another delicious bite of peas and carrots. Daniel had cooked breakfast for the entire camp. A combination of magically preserved vegetable rations from Equestria, alongside a few tins of Cram to make a hearty breakfast. The warm food helped to chase away her soreness.

After they had relocated the camp to reside outside of the Dunwich building’s dark magic aura, the group hadn’t wasted any time pitching the tent again. Everyone had been too tired to do anything else. They had even gone as far as sleeping in their armor while sharing bedrolls. Pinkie and Spike had taken one bedroll, while Daniel and her had taken the other.

While Twilight was paying for sleeping in her armor, it was a small price for not being defenseless throughout the night.

“So where are we going next?” Spike asked from across the cooking fire as he massaged a crick in his neck. He was clearly feeling the ache of sleeping in his armor as well.

“I promised Daniel that I would help find his father,” Twilight replied after she pulled her fork from her mouth. “Rarity already gave us a lead on where he went.”

“Yeah,” Daniel said with a heavy sigh from his seat on his backpack next to her. “But that lead is several days old at this point.”

“We’ll find him,” Twilight said as she threw a wing around her husband and pulled herself close to his side.

“If you know where to look, why don’t we teleport there?” Pinkie Pie asked.

Twilight swallowed her next bite before she answered.

“My broken horn severely limits what I can do,” Twilight said as she speared another forkful of carrots from her mess kit. “I know it’s possible for me to burn off an entire dose of medicine with one powerful spell. So, with how teleportation spells work, I’ll only be able to safely teleport all of us from one exterior location to another exterior location. And I have to be familiar with both points.”

“Seriously?” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “You used to teleport all the time through buildings and places you didn’t know, Twi.”

“Teleporting through solid objects quadruples the energy needed for the spell,” Twilight said. She shook her head slowly, formulating a simple explanation for her earth pony friend to understand. “Adding the variable of being unfamiliar with a location also means that I have to pour even more energy in. And, if my broken horn somehow affects the teleportation, it means we could end up stuck in a wall… or falling down an elevator shaft. So, unless it’s a life or death emergency, I want to play it safe to conserve my medicine.”

Spike hummed loudly in thought before raising his hand.

“I have a question,” Spike said. “If we find Daniel’s father, that means we’ll be adding more mass—or people in this case, right? Well, that would increase the energy needed to teleport. So why don’t you leave Daniel here while you teleport Pinkie and I to Rivet City, then teleport yourself back? That way you’re only moving two people at once.”

“That’s a great point,” Twilight beamed. She hadn’t even considered that. And it would allow her to drop off the books and seeds that were adding so much weight to her pack.

She wouldn’t call it unnecessary weight, though. Knowledge was important, and alchemy could help so many sick wastelanders.

“Yeah, and we know Rarity listens to GNR,” Daniel added. “She might try and send someone to Point Lookout if she heard Pinkie’s message.”

Another thing Twilight hadn’t considered. She checked the time.

It was just a little after eight A.M. Rarity’s store would be open by now.

“Sweet Celestia, I wish we had thought about this earlier,” Twilight said, grinding her palm against her forehead. “I could have teleported us all somewhere we could have slept without having to worry about safety.”

“Come on, Twi, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Spike said. His sigh was loud enough to drag Twilight’s attention out of her self-pitying facepalm. “All of us were drop-dead tired after Dunwich.”

Spike was right, as usual. He had always been a good assistant. Beyond good. He was the one always pushing for her to spend more time with other ponies and improve herself. He was always there for her.

“Thank you, Spike,” Twilight said softly. She shifted in her seat to face her baby dragon assistant. Even as an adult human, she could still see the little baby drake that chewed his own tail. “Speaking of that message, Spike, you called me Mom. I think that’s the first time you did it intentionally.”

There had been a few times before where he called her ‘mom’. But that was mostly when she tried waking him up from a nap and it slipped out while he was still groggy.

“Well,” Spike said as he leaned back and rubbed his green mohawk-like frill with his scale-covered and claw-tipped hands. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. I thought about what I was going to lose, and what you really meant to me. You’re the one that hatched me, then raised me. Sure, your mom helped, but you were the kind of filly who liked to do things herself after being shown how to do it. You changed my diapers and fed me from a bottle until it was time for me to eat my first gemstone.”

Twilight turned her head, trying to hide her blush. Spike had been her baby dragon to take care of, not her mother’s. That was how she rationalized trying to do everything she could on her own. She had even taught Spike how to read using flashcards… which she kept having to remake because someone kept trying to eat them or burn them with his dragon burps.

Raising Spike had been a learning experience for sure. A similar experience to what her older brother was going through with raising Flurry Heart. Before coming to Earth she had occasionally received frantic letters from Shining Armor asking for pointers.

“When I first brought you home, I had to learn how to fireproof everything,” Twilight said with a smile. “It’s funny that fireproofing spells were the first ones I needed to send to Shining Armor.”

Twilight couldn’t imagine the chaos of trying to raise a baby alicorn. Just raising a dragon had been several hoof-fulls.

Twilight shook her head, forcing herself off memory lane and back on track as she stood up. “Alright, Spike, I like your idea, but I’m going to change it up a bit. I’ll just take you to Rivet City, then teleport us back to see if I can do long distances.”

After the night before, Twilight decided that teleporting alone was out of the question. And if she could make round trips, she’d just ferry people in smaller groups to use less energy.

“Can you take me, too, please?” Pinkie Pie asked. She held up her cannon and shook it, and something within rattled audibly like a spray-paint can. “I want to give my party cannon some maintenance and get more grenades.”

Twilight winced. That would mean leaving Daniel alone. If something happened…

“Not right now,” Twilight replied. “If the teleportation fails in any way, or it turns out that I can only take us one way, Spike and I have wings so we can quickly regroup and fly back here.”

Pinkie Pie scratched her chin, before she burst out grinning.

“Okie dokes,” Pinkie Pie said with a giggle. “Just bring me back a few grenades and I’ll see what I can do right now.”

With a plan formed, Twilight prepared her spell.

<>~<>~<>

Colonel Augustus Autumn flipped another patty on the grill. The meat sizzled as he pressed his spatula down onto it. The scent of the grease falling into the flames joined the scent of fresh cut lawn clippings in the cool breezy air.

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day. And it was his job to prepare the food for everyone to eat when watching the baseball game.

Children played in an empty grassy lot across the street, which lay between two perfectly suburban houses.

It was the perfect day.

Too perfect.

Behind him, a door to a house he had never lived in creaked open. He knew who he would hear.

“Remain calm,” Colonel Autumn whispered to himself. The edges of the reality he had formed in his imagination wavered as consciousness threatened to drag him to the waking world. He wanted the dream to last so he could savor every lucid moment of it.

“Have you invited Rachel and Abigail over, hun?”

Hearing her again was like a fist had reached into his chest to squeeze his heart.

“I think I have,” Augustus said. He played along with the dream as he took a slow, shaky breath. He slowly turned around to see the woman he hadn’t seen in twenty-eight years. “It’s been too long.”

Cinthia Autumn was exactly how he remembered her. Thin, but not in a sickly way. She had skin that refused to lose its tan, even after the first few years of seclusion in the dark halls of Raven Rock.

She took a step towards him and her long blue dress billowed in a sudden gust of wind which kicked up grass clippings and leaves. The gust grew and grew, until it was strong enough to knock Colonel Autumn off balance. When he looked back to Cinthia, she was gone, replaced by a figure in a black robe.

Their white skull and scythe blade gleamed in the sun.

The world violently reoriented as Colonel Autumn’s eyes shot open. His body wracked with pain as he curled into a ball and coughed into his elbow. Each explosive exhalation was like a gunshot.

Off balance and disoriented from falling back to reality in a split second, Colonel Autumn pawed bleary eyed at his nightstand for the handkerchief which rested there.

After a few false clasps, his fingers eventually grasped the folded cloth and he brought it over his mouth.

The coughs kept coming and coming. Each one ripped at his burning lungs and throat. He lay curled up in bed as he coughed several more times.

Mercifully, the violent spasms of forcing air out of himself ended after what felt like an hour—but was probably less than a minute—and he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling and catch his breath.

He slowly turned his head to the clock on his nightstand. Eight-oh-six, which meant he had overslept by over two hours.

Oversleeping was conduct unbecoming of an officer of the United States Enclave.

Colonel Autumn threw the covers aside in time with his legs swinging over the edge of his bed. He hopped up and raced to beat his personal record at getting dressed. Clothes flew like shrapnel as he stripped out of his nightwear, then pulled on his daily uniform. A black undersuit standard to every Enclave officer, followed by his tan greatcoat.

The earlier coughing fit came to mind, and Colonel Autumn found the handkerchief discarded onto the floor. He picked it up. Specks of color on the white cloth gave him pause.

He knew it would happen eventually—the moment had been a long time coming—but to finally see blood…

“I don’t have much time,” Colonel Autumn said, his next inhale rattling in his chest as he tucked the handkerchief away.

He needed to speak to President Jacklyn.

With Equestrian support a long-term solution, Project Purity was the best hope for America that the Enclave could achieve in the short-term.

<>~<>~<>

“We did it!” Twilight exclaimed as she pumped a fist in the air in triumph. They had arrived on top of the tower just across from Rivet City. The large bridge that would swing out and connect the aircraft carrier to the mainland was already in position.

“Whoa,” Spike said from beside her as he took a step onto the bridge. “We really did. This place is huge!”

“It’s a maze on the inside, that’s for sure,” Twilight chuckled as she stepped onto the bridge and walked beside Spike.

“I can’t wait to see Rarity,” Spike beamed. He then flexed his arms. “I wonder what she’ll think of me now that I’m a big strong adult.”

Twilight rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get your hopes up too quickly. Rarity’s got a—” How do I put it without telling my adopted son that Rarity sleeps with a brothel owner? “—special friend.”

Spike dropped one arm and scratched his head. “Hmm, so it's a friend with benefits kind of situation?”

Twilight choked on air. “How do you know that’s what I meant?”

“I didn’t learn everything I know from just books,” Spike snarked as he rolled his eyes. “I was the one who actually left the house to go buy our groceries. I learned innuendos and phrases from just walking by ponies that casually used them.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said sheepishly. He didn’t need to use his firebreath to burn her. All he had to do was call her out on her history of being the most reclusive shut-in in the history of shut-ins. “So, um, yeah, just wanted to give you a heads up since I’m not sure if Rarity and you would work out. Especially if we go back and you turn right back into a baby dragon.”

“Right,” Spike said as he sighed in defeat. “I wish I could stay an adult.”

“Hey,” Twilight said in a tone she hoped would bring him as much reassurance as he had given her over the years. “You get to use this as a free trial of adulthood. I’m pretty sure only the Cutie Mark Crusaders can say they’ve done that before.”

Wishing that they were adults around a magical plant had led to quite the adventure for them.

“I wonder what the Crusaders are doing,” Spike said, rubbing his chin.

“When I paid them a visit they were keeping track of the stories in the newspaper,” Twilight replied.

She wished she had learned where Applejack and Rainbow Dash were earlier. It would have been a lot happier of a reunion with Applebloom and Scootaloo. Especially with how concerned the fillies were when they saw how injured she was.

She had heard Applebloom say through the door when she had left the room, “If Princess Twi can get all messed up like that, well, what in the hay could be happenin’ to our sisters?”

<>~<>~<>

Applebloom tucked the newest paper into her saddlebags before a clamoring cacophony ripped her attention away from the news stand. The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000 was back. It chugged with the sound of a chronically ill train as it sluggishly traveled down the road through town. Two familiar stallions operated it, with Grand General Shadow as a passenger.

“Now what in the hay is she doin’ with those no good, dirty, rotten, thievin’ scoundrels,” Applebloom grumbled as she stomped a hoof on the cobblestone.

“You haven’t heard?” The newspaper stallion asked from behind her. “The General is calling on designers to submit vehicle concepts for military testing. They want full vehicles, but are offering to buy any blueprints that meet their requirements. Heck, you and your friends should give it a try. You three made one heck-of-a parade float that one time.”

Applebloom grit her teeth. He was leaving out the part where they’d then crashed it into a lake.

“I’ll consider it,” Applebloom said as she walked away from the newsstand. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had tried everything they could get away with to earn their Cutie Marks.

We did build a pretty good parade float.

Like a seed, the idea sprouted roots.

Winning best design would be a good way to show up those snake-oil salesponies. And if the Crusaders design it, it’ll be made for protectin’ ponies, not makin’ a profit. I better hurry and get to Scoot’s place so we can start writing things down.

With the idea budding, it grew and grew, sending Applebloom’s hooves skidding as she ran down the sidewalk, propelled on the momentum of a good idea.

It would need tracks like a bulldozer so it could climb over rubble and sink less in mud. Flim and Flam’s oversized monster was just waiting to bog down after a hard raid. The new float would also need armor. Lots of armor in all directions to keep the passengers safe, and guns to fight off the monsters in the other world. The ‘deathclaw’ feral dragon creatures would be the most dangerous.

What else can I—

Pain exploded across Applebloom’s muzzle and derailed her train of thought as she slammed into a pony. Stumbling back, Applebloom quickly looked at who she had hit.

The golden unicorn mare had been knocked backwards onto her haunches. She had very distinct silver hair that glittered in the sunlight like it was actually made of metal.

“Sorry, Electrum,” Applebloom said, recognizing the mare from occasionally seeing her around town. She looked the older mare over and gasped, pointing a hoof at the large scar on her underbelly. The fur around it was discolored from washed-off blood. “Oh my gosh, what happened there?”

“A raider,” Electrum quickly replied as she stood up. “I’d love to talk but I have to go, I promise I’ll see you later if I’m not arrested.”

And just as quickly as they had run into each other, the older mare ran in the direction of Twilight’s castle.

Arrested fer what? What in the hay’s got a fire under her tail?

<>~<>~<>

The light of the ceiling-mounted projector was the only light in the meeting room. A pegasus-eye view of a large Equestrian city lit up the far wall, with the Statue of Friendship on the far edge of the aerial photograph of the large metropolitan city.

To Colonel Michael Hoffman, it was like looking at old photographs of New York City.

"In terms of sheer population density, Manehattan is your best option,” Colonel Hoffman said, his tone as flat as a sheet of paper. Acid ate at the base of his esophagus, and he craved an antacid before he puked. The General wanted a high death toll, and nothing else. There was no foresight put into where he wanted to target past making numbers go up. “Detrot and Phillydelphia have heavier pockets of industrialization, but they’re spread out over a wider area, and the residential zones are smaller. STRATCOM’s best casualty estimates of a tactical strike centered on Manehattan’s largest residential district using Equestrian census records can safely assume close to a million dead, with over one-point-five million injured.”

It would bottleneck Equestrian logistics with evacuation and treatments following the mass-casualty event. Thousands would die days after the blast from radiation exposure and third degree burns. Hospitals in the surrounding cities would fill up. And so would their morgues.

“And if we were able to use one of our megaton warheads?” General Beckett asked. No emotion. No remorse or pity.

Colonel Hoffman gripped the edges of the lectern he stood behind. The General wanted to send the biggest nuke they could.

“That’s unfeasible at this time, sir,” Colonel Hoffman replied as calmly as he could. “The tactical nuke we’re taking out of the MIRV warhead is around the size of a bathtub. A full-sized strategic warhead will not fit through the portal, which as I speak, is being relocated to maintain operational security after Electrum’s betrayal. Another point, sir, is that we’re working with two century old missiles. My engineers aren’t even sure if we can safely dismount the full-sized warheads off their ICBMs.”

While the point was true, Colonel Hoffman would have his technicians find some way to send the full sized warheads if Equestria actually did pose a legitimate major threat to America.

Lieutenant Colonel Miranda Tuckett raised her hand.

“You have a question?” Colonel Hoffman asked.

“May I suggest trading civilian casualties for military ones?” Tuckett offered. She fluttered her wings. “Pegasi troops offer a tactical advantage that many of our own troops will not have when crossing over. Or if they do have the correct genes to turn into a pegasus or gryphon, they will refuse to stay that way. Colonel, could you please show the General the photograph I took of Cloudsdale. Historically, the pegasi are the most martial of the pony races. They would be the most resistant to policing during an occupation. Not to mention their cultural ties to the Wonderbolts, who act as a special forces unit when not holding air shows. Their base is in Cloudsdale, and it is my opinion that a tactical warhead would be better served taking out a military target.”

Colonel Hoffman would have kissed Miranda if the suggestion hadn’t been planned ahead of time between them. It would be a lot easier on his conscience if they were to hit the military instead of civilians. The Wonderbolts and pegasi portions of the royal guards were a legitimate threat to Enclave.

“I agree with her, General Beckett,” Colonel Hoffman said a little too quickly as he pressed a button to transition to a new slide. It was a photograph of Cloudsdale. Specifically the mountaintop landing strip for the Wonderbolts academy. “As you know, the lieutenant colonel has lived among our opposition for long enough to achieve the rank of sergeant in the royal guards. She knows how our enemies think, on both a civilian and non-commissioned officer level. It is a skill we have used in wargames played against each other to simulate military engagements. Pegasi have always been the hardest to counter because they can ignore terrain, and use their ability to pull chariots laden with supplies long distances. Pegasi outnumber our vertibirds and would beat us in a logistics game. Cloudsdale may not be as densely populated as Manehattan, but we could render the entirety of the Wonderbolts combat ineffective with a single strike.”

“That’s a good point,” General Beckett said, reclining back in the office chair. “So, if MIRV stands for Multiple Independently-steerable Reentry Vehicles, that means we shouldn’t limit ourselves. Have your engineers rip the other two tactical nukes out of the warhead and we can hit three targets instead of one. I want a strike on Manehattan, Cloudsdale, and Canterlot. Hit their major civilian, military, and political centers at the same time.”

Colonel Hoffman nearly vomited then and there.

The plan was to pressure Equestria to capitulate with a show of force, not decimate the country. Three nukes would be overkill.

But… orders were orders. He couldn’t disobey them.

“I-I’ll send the word,” Colonel Hoffman stuttered.

The phrase that every missallier and nuclear technician learned raced through his mind. An old quote from the brainchild who let the genie of apocalyptic destruction out of the bottle.

“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”