Fallout: Lavender Wastelander

Operation Starfall.

A sense of dread sunk into Twilight and locked her attention to the map on General Chase’s desk. The operation name said it all. If she was attacking Canterlot, Princess Celestia had to be the falling star. Of course the humans would simulate a war against Equestria. Twilight wanted no part of this insanity. While she may have had disagreements with Princess Celestia, Twilight couldn’t imagine ever harming her friend, teacher, and practically her second mother. Even if it was all within a simulation, the false reality surrounding Twilight felt all too real.

A puff of General Chase’s reeking cigar smoke drifted over Canterlot like a cloud of smog. An updraft blew it into Twilight’s face. Her cough was enough to wrench her thoughts away from the grim assignment.

"Why are we at war with Equestria?" Twilight asked, waving away the smoke. “Is it too late to ask for the Alaskan Liberation simulation?”

"What year are you stuck in, Colonel Sparkle? Anchorage’s been back under our control for over a decade now," General Chase scoffed, wagging his cigar at her. “You’ll have plenty of time to catch up on your history on your way to Forward Operating Base Manticore. It’s about an hour trip straight down the road. There should be a staff car and driver available in the garage to take you to the FOB. Once you arrive, your troops will muster shortly after.”

Twilight worked her jaw for several moments, weighing what to say. General Chase treated everything like they were actually occurring, and with the safeties disabled, if she asked the wrong question or let it slip that she was actually an Equestrian and didn’t know a thing about being a military officer, would he shoot her on the grounds of enemy espionage?

There was no other option but to play along and figure things out as she went.

"Understood, sir," Twilight said, forcing through an air of confidence she didn’t feel. “What are my orders?”

If she was a Colonel, and he was a General, then by what she understood of military ranks, he was her boss.

“Once your troops arrive and gear up, you are to formulate a plan at your discretion to take the city of Canterlot,” General Chase said, tapping on the map. Twilight didn’t understand the symbols liberally decorating the mattress-sized piece of paper. Without a map key, they were as insightful as a manuscript written in a dead language. “However, your main objective will be to capture Princess Celestia and force a surrender. Do not kill her. We’re not here to turn off the day-night cycle.”

Twilight straightened her posture and paid more attention to General Chase. The discretion towards Princess Celestia was surprising. She wondered how far the clemency extended.

“What about civilians?” Twilight asked.

“An evacuation and humanitarian corridor has already been established. However, the city is not a free-fire zone. There may be noncombatants who ignored the order. This means artillery support and air strikes will be limited.”

“What kind of resistance are my troops going to face?” Twilight asked. She fought back a grim smile as she realized that this wouldn’t be her first time invading Canterlot. Only, this was to take it over rather than liberate it from The Storm King.

“You may have heard stories of the incompetence of the Equestrian Royal Guards, but those are just old jokes that have stuck around. The truth is, for the last ten years, the soldiers of the Royal Equestrian Army have worked their tattooed asses off to prove their worth. Many of them have even been trained by US Army soldiers and supplied by Uncle Sam. This won’t be a cake walk. You’ll be facing a determined and well-equipped foe in their home territory.”

“Understood, when do I leave for Manticore?” Twilight asked, saluting the General. It was one of the only military formalities that Twilight knew how to perform accurately

“As soon as you’re ready,” General Chase said. “You are dismissed.”

As Twilight dropped the salute, she heard a warbling, staticy sound behind her like someone had cast a spell. General Chase had focused back on the map, and she took the opportunity to check the noise. A terminal occupied the table next to the exit that hadn’t been there when she had first looked around the tent.

Curiosity drew her towards the glowing screen of the machine. Maybe it had something important on it? Some hints left by whoever made the simulation? The terminal was unlocked, and contained a message history.

Dawson_T: Hey, Mike, got a second?

Crane_M: Sure, man, I’m just finishing up the General’s tent in Fort Horseshoe. I’ll need to brainstorm with you and the other developers over the finer mission details later, but if we’re recycling 90% of the code, scripts, and textures from Operation Anchorage and its cut content, we can most likely use the missions as a basis for this simulation. Not like we have any actual battles against Equestrians to draw inspiration from. So, what’s on your mind?

The messages were from the developers. Twilight’s intuition had been correct. Even if there were no blatant hints, learning about the development of Operation Starfall or picking the brains of the creators may be a hint itself. Like her favorite books. If she understood the author’s preferred tropes, she could usually tell where one of their stories was heading. Twilight eagerly absorbed the information like a sponge tossed into water.

Dawson_T: Yeah, about that. Do you know why General Chase has us making a simulated invasion of Equestria? I mean, for any reason other than his hurt pride? Sure, Princess Celestia beat Operation Anchorage twice, but what’s the big deal? The simulation was devoid of all reality because of his constant micromanagement. He was the one who wanted us to put the health kits and ammunition dispensers everywhere. Hell, we’re programmers and WE beat Operation Anchorage.

Crane_M: I think it’s specifically because he had his way with that project at every turn that he’s mad that a magical alien princess could beat it on the first try. It’s HIS baby, not ours… you know, the programmers and artists who made the assets and code to satisfy his vanity and implemented every ‘great idea’ that he suggested. I can’t imagine a scenario where we would ever have to invade the squishy fuzz-faces. Princess Celestia is trading with the US and bending over backwards to keep on America’s good side. Still, better to be prepared than not, I guess.

Dawson_T: Yeah. Stranger things have happened, like that DIA spook flipping sides, or Dr. Braun and the General having a falling out. Did you hear about that by the way? Apparently, after Princess Celestia’s second run through, the General and Dr. Braun nearly came to blows. Braun has gone to live in his Vault, and Princess Celestia is sending a load of Equestrians to visit next month.

Crane_M: Really? Damn. I was wondering why Braun wasn’t around to christen the new installation, just those creepy Big Mountain techno-wizards. Anyways, before anyone reads these messages over my shoulder and sees that I'm not working, I guess we should decide how much effort we want to put into this.

Dawson_T: Well, the General IS staying hands off for this project, so let’s make the best product we can. Maybe use the freedom to test out some new technology like the dynamic mission generation, and creating NPC personalities using data from past users. It should make for more natural responses from NPCs and vary them up a bit. Maybe we can also spring for the remote-network connection test. I know some guys in the DoD who can rush out some field modifications. We can hash out the details at my apartment over the next session of Fortresses and Freaks with the rest of the dev team.

Crane_M: Sounds like a plan. Hope my d20 rolls above a 7 for once this session.

The banter between friends put a smile on Twilight’s face and helped ease her worry.

While the messages didn’t contain much in the way of hints, it was enough to know that the developers were familiar with Equestria, the portals, and Dr. Braun. The Equestria she was about to enter was going to be something based off the real Equestria, but not an exact copy, if the developers were cludging it together from recycled and spare parts from the Operation Anchorage simulation.

With no other entries on the terminal, Twilight left it behind. She reached out to push aside the tent flap, but the world went black as soon as she touched it.

<>~<>~<>

When Twilight’s vision cleared, she was almost blinded by sunlight reflecting off the snow-covered ground. It was everywhere and so deep that it reached a foot-high in most places, except for the roads which had been plowed clear.

On the horizon, Canterlot hung off the mountainside, maybe a hundred miles or so away. Twilight knew she must have been teleported to FOB Manticore, as she had appeared in front of a chain-link gate facing a large military camp.

Dirt-filled gabion cubes that were stacked like children’s blocks formed high walls around nearly a dozen gargantuan olive-drab tents, a few prefabricated structures, and one large single story brick building. Butting up against the walls were guard towers holding either soldiers or automated turrets. Most of the turrets were large-caliber machine guns or small cannons, but Twilight also spotted a few missile launcher turrets aiming skyward.

With how large the tents were, and how many of them there were, there had to be close to a thousand people or more at FOB Manticore. The tire ruts in the dirt roads at least showed there was a lot of traffic going back and forth.

Despite the snow and her uncovered head of buzz cut hair, Twilight didn’t feel cold as she walked deeper into the base. The few soldiers outside were bundled up in thick winter clothing, and every exhale Twilight let out nearly blinded her with a cloud of steam. She checked her Pip-Boy to see if it had a thermometer, but the screen still wasn’t clear of text. The text itself, however, had changed.

//Thank you for choosing the Officer Improvement Simulation. This fictional scenario is designed to provide officers of any level challenging scenarios to improve their relevant skills. Please be patient. This is a beta test and does not reflect the final product. Unintended glitches and defects will be present; please log any errors found on your simulation-integrated RobCo™ Personal-Information-Processors model 2000 or above.

//Commander teleport to FOB Manticore successful
//Dynamic mission list generated
//Mission list:
//[Required] Request reinforcements to continue simulation
//[Optional] Obtain weapons, armor, and warmer clothing from Quartermaster Brinks
//[Optional] Socialize with arriving soldiers in Chow Hall 3
//Call Reinforcements: {Yes}

There was no option to cancel or decline, but from what Twilight could tell, it was the way to continue her simulation. Her finger hovered over the button to accept. But then there were the optional tasks. Maybe it would be a good idea to familiarize herself with the FOB before calling her troops.

She stepped further into the base in the direction of the one brick building. It might have been a large garage if the four roll-up bay doors were any hint, but all of the doors were shuttered. There was a small office attached to the garage like a polyp, and based on the glow from the windows, it was occupied.

Twilight noted how oddly quiet everything was. There were a few soldiers wandering around outside, but many stood rigidly in place or strolled like they were on pre-set routes. One soldier was defying all logic and continuously walking into a street sign, oblivious to it obstructing their path.

If the ponies defending Canterlot were as brain-dead as the walking soldier, Twilight guessed she could take Canterlot by herself. However, she knew that line of thinking would lead to her downfall. The simulation operated off of rules that Twilight didn’t know. Overestimating herself and getting cocky would open her up to be blindsided by something unexpected.

Like the temperature. The optional instruction to get warm clothing was an ominous warning that Twilight would take seriously. She may not feel the cold now, but as soon as she pressed the accept button for reinforcements on her Pip-Boy, the rules the simulation ran on could change.

She reached the garage and entered the door on the smaller attached office building. Even though the office was separated from the garage by a brick wall, Twilight could still hear the power tools of the mechanics, and the smell of grease and oil was thick in the air.

Her boots tramped onto a dingy checker-pattern tile floor. A large countertop across from her divided most of the room between customer and employee areas. An archway partitioned off a waiting area with two drink machines and a couple of chairs. Twilight trailed her gaze across the room until it landed on a pegasus stallion with a buzzcut mane, glasses, and a US army uniform sitting behind the front counter.

The pegasus waved at her and smiled.

Twilight waved back and approached, but the title of the paper pinned to a cork-board on the wall beside her gave her pause. She had barely noticed it out of the corner of her eye, but the bold alliteration had caught her attention.

More Mares Missing, Vigilanties Vow Vengeance.

Despite being a clipping from an Equestria Daily newspaper, it used the human calendar and was dated for July 16, 2088. Below the title was a color wedding photograph of two mares hugging one another under a wedding arch. Surrounding the newspaper clipping like orbiting satellites were more excerpts. The oldest was dated January 14th, 2087. There was a month or two gap between each dated clipping, and all of the papers were of missing mares. Several later reports claimed a few mares had been found dead.

“You’ve been keeping up with the news, Colonel?” the pegasus asked. If Twilight understood what the two chevrons on his epaulets meant, he was a corporal. His name tag read ‘Glittershear’.

“I unfortunately haven’t, but I want to,” Twilight said, turning to face the stallion as she jerked a thumb towards the wall. “I’m new and familiarizing myself with the base. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“To make a long and complicated story short,” Glittershear said, brow tensing, “some sick bastard has kidnapped and killed at least eight mares so far. Assaulted them before and after death.” He growled and clopped a hoof onto the counter. “They caught a guy they thought was doing it, but he got acquitted because there ‘wasn’t enough evidence’, but everyone knows he walked free because he had connections from being a cop and a war veteran.”

From how Corporal Glittershear had phased it, there damn well was enough evidence. Anger ignited in Twilight’s breast like a raging furnace. She clenched her teeth and fists, then slackened as she realized she was getting worked up over a simulated narrative. Unfortunately, it sounded plausible enough.

“From the way you put it, they had enough evidence, didn’t they?” Twilight asked, taking a deep breath to keep herself calm while mentally reminding herself everything she was experiencing was made up. The simulation was meant to improve military officers, so throwing things at them to make them angry was likely part of the training to see how they responded.

A morbidly curious part of her wanted a report card to check her grade when the training sim was over with. Just to see if she made for a good officer.

“Evidence doesn’t matter because of two simple words, corruption and lawyers,” Corporal Glitterhoof spat. “I’ve been a US citizen for a few years now and I can’t even begin to explain how backwards their justice system is. In my opinion, there was enough evidence to prove his guilt, so why should he walk? But I’m also of the opinion that the Equestrian response was too drastic. A posse of vigilante ponies stormed into the town of Everfree around Fort Horseshoe and lynched him. Threw his corpse off the Eisenhower Dam, right in full view of the town and military base.”

So, in this alternate history, there was a town like Ponyville built by the humans, complete with a dam, Twilight thought. The simulation was going off the agreement between Princess Celestia and the US government. The basis of it was an Equestrian mob had entered United States territory and killed a citizen who had been cleared of criminal charges. Of course it would provoke some kind of response, but to start an armed conflict over it?

“How long has the war been going on?” Twilight asked.

“Close to seven months now, with no sign of stopping since both sides think they’re justified in what they did, and too many people have been lost on both sides to give up. FOB Manticore is as far as we got towards Canterlot before having to dig in.”

Twilight nodded. “General Chase sent me to help break the stalemate. Can you direct me to the quartermaster? I need some armor, weapons, and winter clothes.”

“Certainly, Colonel, right this way, please,” the stallion said as he stood from his desk.

Nearly seven months of a wasteful, senseless war over a problem that should have been solved diplomatically. Twilight shook her head. The simulation certainly knew how to get under her skin.

<>~<>~<>

Thirty minutes or so later, Twilight was far heavier than when she had entered the quartermaster’s office. She had a set of combat armor on underneath her greatcoat, rather than the simple cloth officer uniform. The balaclava and snow goggles to accompany her metal helmet were tucked in a pouch on her hip. She had asked the quartermaster for ‘everything a soldier in the field would need’. Everything turned out to be around sixty or more pounds of gear spread over her body, crammed into various pouches or her new rucksack.

Twilight departed the quartermaster for the mess hall to complete her second optional objective.

Chow Hall 3 was one of the larger tents at FOB Manticore, easily picked out from the score of other tents from its smokestacks and the smell of bacon hanging around it. Despite not being the biggest fan of eating meat, her mouth watered and her stomach grumbled.

She slipped into the tent expecting soldiers digging into their meals, only to see six cooks at the back of an otherwise empty tent. The cooks were all huddled around their stoves, and a nearby buffet bar was stocked and ready for the arrival of hungry troops. From a quick guess at the number of folding tables and metal chairs, the chow hall seated somewhere between two or three hundred people.

Twilight approached the group of cooks, five were human, but the last was a female gryphon, and all of them wore olive drab US Army uniforms. Twilight politely coughed to catch the gryphon’s attention, who had a single chevron rank pin.

“Excuse me, Private,” Twilight asked as the gryphon set down the spatula she’d been using to flip sausage patties on a grill and turned to face her. “When will the other troops arrive for food?”

“I’m not sure, Colonel,” the gryphon replied and nodded with respect, before pointing to the Pip-Boy. “Maybe their schedule is somewhere on your fancy wrist watch?”

Twilight smiled sheepishly and checked the objective list. The objective was to socialize with arriving soldiers. She had to call them first. Hovering her finger over the button to call reinforcements one more time, Twilight weighed the pros and cons. It would get things moving, but she still had most of FOB Manticore left to explore. But, then again, if the designers hadn’t expected her to travel the whole of the base then the base wouldn’t be fully modeled. Like the plywood scene dressing for a play. Just put up to set the stage.

Twilight pressed the accept button, and new text appeared.

//Connection established to external devices
//Please wait while reinforcements arrive

The screen finally cleared to its original appearance, and Twilight’s compass and AP meter were joined by another bar labeled HP. Before Twilight could investigate what it meant, the air shimmered close to Twilight and a woman in an army uniform appeared. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun rather than a buzzcut like Twilight’s. She had some sort of metal gauntlet over one arm that went nearly up to her elbow that hissed and vented steam.

“What the hell?” the woman asked as she spun around in a blind panic before fixating on her clothing. “Watkins, if you can hear me, get Taggart to abort the simulation! Something’s gone wrong!”

A pit dropped into Twilight’s stomach, and she opened her mouth to call out to the panicking woman. The air next to the woman shimmered, cutting both Twilight and the newcomer off. Three more people appeared.

The first was an older white-haired woman wearing a flight helmet and jacket over her army uniform, and the next was Dr. Braun, who had arrived with her hair in a bun as well. The last one was so strange he overshadowed even Dr. Braun’s arrival. Even the others balked at him.

The person drawing everyone’s attention had skin that was close to caucasian, but the pigment was off making him more ruddy white than tan, and the skin appeared rubbery. Large strips had been torn away to reveal a metal skeleton and wires underneath around the side of the head and a large portion of his neck.

“Either I’m encountering some very suppressed memories, or I’m no longer in the Memory Den,” the robot man said coolly. He glanced around quickly, glowing yellow eyes flitting back and forth. They were the quick eyes of someone who was experienced at noticing things. Like Twilight’s nametag and rank pins before he locked eyes with her. “So, Colonel Sparkle, care to explain why I’m here?”

He reached into his army uniform and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He deftly shook a cigarette out of the pack and brought it to his lips with a metal hand bare of any synthetic skin.

“I-I’m just as confused as you are,” Twilight said, the shock of the situation overwhelming her. “I’ll explain everything I know when people stop appearing.”

Two things that she did know were that her reinforcements were real people… and that the safeguards were off.

A soldier dying here was a real death she would be responsible for.