Broken Mirror, Part Twoby Striker1959ChaptersSolid Foundation (Arc I)Dawn's Early Light (Arc I)Improvise (Arc I)Heart of Fire (Arc I)More Questions, Fewer Answers (Interlude I)The Truth Hurts (Arc II)Cold Hard Facts (Arc II)The North (Arc II)Relics (Arc II)Define "All Right" (Interlude II)Chaos (Arc III)Favors (Arc III)Victorious? (Arc III)Fireball (Arc III)Greater Purpose (Interlude III)Canterlot Ruins, Part I (Arc IV)Canterlot Ruins, Part II (Arc IV)Master and Commander (Arc IV)Out of the Fire (Arc IV)Sins of our ForefathersDawn (Arc II)Solid Foundation (Arc I)Beach, just outside Neighfair Dusk The closer we got to the walls of the old fortress the more I started to realize how big the old base really was. “Equestria to Dusk, you home?” I glanced over at Dart before turning my attention back to the walls of the base. “Ya, I am… Just thinking.” “I’m assuming you got a lot on your mind.” I nodded and finally turned around, leaning against the hull of the boat. “Take Comet for instance. He seems so…” “Confrontational?” “Ya.” Dart leaned against me and sighed. “Comet went back on active duty a week after you were captured. Strike followed a few days after that... “ “Something tells me there’s more to this than you’re saying.” Dart nodded. “Comet has a bad habit for picking fights, and Strike has shown some serious mental instability. The two of them are good in a jam, but beyond that…” I just nodded. “Beyond that they’re just good for giving you headaches.” “Exactly.” I felt the boat shudder as it rode up onto the sand, alongside a rotted dock. “Then let’s forget about them for now.” I hopped over the side as a few of the soldiers dragged the boat onto the beach. “Blaze Squad, form up!” I made my way up off the sand to the head of the old dock, where the rest of the team shortly joined me. “So what’s the plan Dusk?” Comet asked half-heartedly. "Well you, Strike and Specter are sticking with Gramps and getting this beachhead running. Steeljack and Dart are with me.” “And where are we going?” Dart asked. “This is a military base.” I pointed out. “We find the control center and see what we can get working.” “Right, along with hotshot over there?” Comet jabbed. “What’s to say he won’t-” “Shut the fuck up Comet!” I yelled. “I can take the occasional jab. But since we got to this damn city it’s almost like you’re on your period!” Comet and Strike both exchanged glances before Comet walked back down to the beach. “That seemed a bit harsh…” Dart muttered. “What?” I exclaimed. “What did we just talk about back on the boat?” “Doesn’t matter.” Steeljack added. “Rule one of dealing with those two… Don’t snap at them.” I just rolled my eyes and started my walk up the crumbling steps of Neighfair’s main entrance. And the closer I got the more I began to feel that something was a bit- “We got casualties.” Steeljack said as the main door finally came into unobstructed view. He was right of course; four skeletons wearing tattered olive-drab uniforms lay just feet from the main entrance. I knelt down and managed to find a rusted dog tag on the corpse closest to the door, but the pitting and rust made the name illegible. “What do you think Steeljack?” “They’ve been here a while.” He replied as he knelt down and grabbed the old dog tag from me. “Probably died when the bombs or shortly after from the radiation exposure.” I got up and walked up to the door, stopping short of shoving it open. “Then how the hell would this protect them?” If Steeljack made any moves I didn’t see them. All I saw was his boot knocking the old wooden door off it’s hinges with a crack akin to that of breaking a bone. “Right…” I swung the shotgun off my back and clicked on the flashlight that was on the side rail. “I’ll take point.” *** “Anyone see anything?” I whispered as I moved my flashlight across the empty room. “Just more dust.” Dart muttered back. That's when I heard the click of a circuit breaker before the lights in the room came on, along with the rapid succession of lights coming to life in the hallway behind us after so many years of laying dormant. “Found the main power!” Steeljack yelled from a utility closet tucked in the far corner of the room. I shut the flashlight on the gun off and swung it onto my back. “How the hell does this place still have power?” I made my way over to the utility closet, stopping short of pushing Steeljack out of the way when I read the label on the breaker. “Secondary Generators… Steeljack, was that off?” “I just reset the breaker.” He answered. “Honestly I didn’t think anything would happen.” “Talk about good luck…” I muttered back. “But you know what else uses power?” “There’s a bunch of shit I could list, but I’m going to assume that you’ll tell us anyway.” I felt a wry smile grow across my face and decided to roll with it. “Computers. Specifically the ones that are probably in the control room.” “Ya…” I heard Dart whisper. “Inventory, base defenses, everything would be right at our fingertips.” “And we just need to find it.” I pointed out. “So… Ideas anyone?” “There must’ve been a floor plan for a place this big.” said Steeljack. “Find the plan, and we can find the command center a whole hell of alot easier.” “Well why are waiting around? Let’s get going!” I walked across the room to a closed door and half mindedly threw it open, only starting to pay more attention when I realized that there was something in the hallway staring back at me. And judging by the gun it was pulling off it’s waist, whatever the hell it was isn’t all that friendly. “Contact!” Steeljack yelled as he pulled me back into the room and slammed the door shut. "What the hell was that?” I asked. A fist punching right through the door didn’t help answer any of the questions that were swirling around in my head. “No idea.” I heard Steeljack mutter as the pony-shaped thing demolished the door that separated us. “Dart, you want to find out?” Click “Damn right I do!” Dart rushed forward and managed to whack the creature with the butt of her gun. It staggered slightly at the impact, but managed to swing it’s rifle around and clip Dart’s shoulder with it hard enough to knock her into the wall. “Dart!” I yelled. “Alright bucko, you asked for it!” I closed the gap between the two of us and slugged the creature’s face, followed by a strong throbbing sensation that ran down my arm. “Puny pony.” The creature growled as he wrapped a hand around my throat. “Ya… Real puny.” I grunted as the creature picked me up. “You know who else here is puny?” “He’s probably talking about me.” Steeljack jumped on the creature’s back and started wrestling with it’s mask. “Now come on, what are you hiding?” I managed to finally break out of the creature’s grip and unhooked the latch holding it’s mask on. “Come on bud-” Once I flipped the mask off the creature’s face I found myself stopped dead as I caught the glare of its yellow eyes. “What the hell? Steeljack backpedaled away from the creature and similar questions must have been rattling around his head. “That looks like a pony.” He wasn’t kidding. Whatever this thing is, it looks like a pony. Instead of fur or even skin, his face was made of some sort of plastic with some seams along the side of it’s head where it met other pieces of the same material. As it leveled it’s weapon at us I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “It looks like it wants to kill us.” Steeljack continued to show he was in rare form today as he ripped me out of the path of the plasma bolt before he stepped in and ripped the gun away from the creature. It tried to catch him with a right hook in response, but Steeljack caught the fist and managed to wrench the creature’s arm around and toss it to the ground. “That was too easy.” That’s when Dart stepped in and planted her boot on the creature’s chest. “You’re right.” She stuck her gun to it’s head and clicked off the safety. BANG! For a brief moment I shielded my eyes from a bright flash that came from the creature’s head, letting my arm down after my eyes readjusted. At Dart’s feet was the creature, .issing it’s head with sparks arking off the exposed wires coming out of what was it’s neck. “It’s… It’s a robot.” Dart muttered. I walked over and picked up a piece of the skin-like material that once coated the robot’s face. “We should call this in.” Ten minutes, that’s how long it took for the rest of the team to reach us. For the entire wait I kept running a single question through my head; who makes a robot that looks like a pony? “Dusk?” I glanced over at Specter before returning to my thoughts. “Pay attention Dusk!” A quick shudder got me to break my trance and allow me to focus. “I’m sorry, what?” “I was saying I’ve seen something like this before.” Specter droned. “You have?” “That’s what I’ve spent the last five minutes going over.” The annoyed stallion retorted. “I’ve heard a few different names… Android and cyborg are some common ones.” “Some common ones?” I asked. “Is there anything else?” “There is.” Specter handed me a piece of the facial material. “Synth. I don’t know who came up with it, but I’d wager it stands for synthetic pony. They’re some sort of blend of machinery and fake flesh meant to look like a pony.” “Someone has to make these things.” “And no one knows who’s responsible.” Specter replied. “These things just pop up in weird places for no apparent reason. This is just the first time I’ve heard of a synth showing up in an old military installation.” “Specter, do these things run in groups?” Gramps asked. Specter shrugged. “The only time I ran into these things back in Manehattan they were operating in a platoon-sized unit… So I’d have to say yes.” “Then the odds are good we’re not alone.” Gramps muttered as he pulled out his radio. “Jericho this is Meteor, come in.” Bzzzttt… “Jericho, please respond.” Bzzzttt… “That doesn’t sound very reassuring.” I heard Comet mutter. Gramps shook his head and tucked his radio back into his ammo pouch. “Steeljack, Specter, you two come with me. We’re going to go find Jericho.” “So we just stick with Dusk?” Strike asked. “Sure, why not.” Gramps muttered as he led Steeljack and Specter back down the hall towards the entrance. I glanced at Comet and Strike before looking over at Dart. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?” Dart offered a shrug. “Probably not.” *** “...So, see any good movies lately Dusk?” I stuffed down the voice in the back of my head yelling to smack Strike into next Tuesday for the umpteenth time in what seemed like forever. You see he picked up an annoying little tick after he returned a few years ago. From what little Dart whispered to me as we made our way through the base he had spent some significant amount of time in solitary confinement, so the psychological explanation was an underlying need to make sure that he wasn’t locked in a small room all alone. She also mentioned the reason for his inability to fly; some scientists had removed parts of the bones in his wings and replaced them with some sort of metallic alloys. While the doctors said he could fly with some rehabilitation, he couldn’t seem to make progress and gave up about a year before I got back. “Hey Dusk, you still there?” Strike droned. I rolled my eyes. “Yes Strike I’m still here. And no I haven’t seen any good movies on account of being cut open and being stuffed in a freezer when I wasn’t being used as a living pincushion.” “Oh…” For the rest of the walk Strike kept his mouth shut… With my luck I either pissed him off or brought him to the point where he might start crying. You see that’s the problem with ponies you know are mentally unstable; one minute you’re they’re best friend while the next you’re public enemy number one. Eventually we reached a staircase capped by a metal trap door at the top. “Anyone want to place bets on what’s up there?” Dart asked. “Who gives a fuck?” I asked as I charged up my horn and blasted the hatch up into the room above us. Dart rolled her eyes and clambered up the stairs with me right behind her. Daylight was streaming in from the windows that lined the walls of the room. Conveniently, the room was full of terminals that offered quite hums as they sat waiting for inputs from ponies that were long dead. “I think we found the command center.” I slid down onto the stool next to one of the larger consoles and started cycling through menus. “Base defenses, communications array… Radar?” I muttered, trying to rationalize how ponies who never invented transistors might have gotten working radar. “Wait, they have radar?” Dart asked as she stuck her head over my shoulder to check the screen herself. “I wonder what else they have…” She backed out to the main menu and went into the menu list. “Here we are, inventory.” The listing came up with a small map of the base in the corner. A hangar on the far side of the base was starred on the map. “Let's see… We got three armed vertibucks, fifteen UCs-” “Whatever those are.” I pointed out. Dart nodded. “Anyway we got those, a warehouse full of spare parts, about ten thousand gallons of fuel and an armory with enough guns and ammo to arm a full-strength battalion. And where it looks like no one got onto the base since the bombs dropped… We’re about to make out like bandits.” I got up and made my way over to the side of the room overlooking the inner confines of the base and spotted the hangar on the far side. “Within teleport range…” I muttered. “Hey Strike?” “What’s up?” The pegasi asked as he took a place next to me. “Oh nothing…” I said as I charged up the spell. “We’re just going on a field trip.” I grabbed Strike and in an instant the two of us crossed the vast space between the command center and the storage hangar. I glanced over at Strike for a moment and realized he was steadying himself on the hangar door. “I don’t suppose now is a good time to mention that I’m not all that good with teleporting?” Strike asked sarcastically. I shrugged and motioned for him to help me haul the door open. Two centuries of rust, dirt and other debris slowly gave way as the door ground and shuddered along it’s track. We eventually stopped it with just enough space for a pony to slip through. “Just follow my lead.” I stepped into the hangar, focusing on the stream of sunlight that came in through the cracked hangar door. The two of us slowly made our way deeper into the hangar, past field guns plastered with surface rust and some sheeted vehicles. "Talk about heavy artillery…” Strike muttered. Behind me a light clicked on and it’s associated beam was slowly moving across the hangar. “You think those guns would still work?” “Probably.” I walked over to one and ran my finger along the inside of the barrel. It came away coated in a waxy grease. “Someone prepped these things for long-term storage… Just clean the preservative out and we should be able to use them.” I stepped away and kept walking deeper into the hangar. At the end was a large object under a silk-white sheet. “What do you think it is?” Strike asked. I hesitated for a moment before pulling the sheet away. As I studied the craft I felt a smile begin to creep across my face. “It’s our lucky day Strike.” I ran my fingers along the inside of the barrel of the chin-gun of the heavily armed Vertibuck and came away with the same preservative that lined the field gun’s barrels. “It’s our lucky day…” Author's Note And there, ladies and gentlemen, is the first official chapter of Broken Mirror Part II! While it's not the longest thing I've written, it sets up next chapter's events rather nicely. And our first encounter with a Synth... Granted that's just one, but later on we'll be seeing more of those nasty buggers. In the mean time I started writing a one shot as an in-universe explanation as to why Dusk has been showing up in Fallout: Equestria - Mending Hearts and most recently Starlight Glimmer Looks for Love (where, I might add, in his brief appearance Dusk had a mental breakdown that I can totally see happening under the right circumstances). As such expect to see Blueblood get tormented by omnipotent beings. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Dawn's Early Light (Arc I)Neighfair Military Base Dusk Twelve hours; that’s how long I was in that storage hangar pouring over that vertibuck. Scraping preservatives out of tight spaces, checking electrical systems, shocking myself on said electrical systems, getting my mane caught in the same tight spaces I was trying to clean out… Long story short, I’ve been making myself miserable. A night’s sleep in the cockpit of the vertibuck didn’t do me any good, especially while covered in grease and dirt. So here I am, wandering the halls of the base looking for working showers so I can get all this crap out of my fur and mane. Yet all I found were Division troops wandering around the base getting power back in working order, fixing leaking pipes, clearing trash, and burying the long-dead former residents of the base. In that way I found myself down at the river by the main entrance to the base attempting to exorcise the filth from my body, my boots, barding and associated undershirt laid out on the concrete wall at the head of the beach while I was up to my neck in the lukewarm waters of the Chicacolt River. “Too bad I don’t have some decent soap…” I muttered, distracting myself with the tedious task of trying to drag the grime out from under my fingernails. The less than stellar ‘soap’ in this instance was filled in role by a piece of steel wool that I had pilfered from a toolbox in the hangar. After another few minutes of helpless scrubbing I decided abandoning the feeble attempt at grease removal was the only logical recourse if I wanted to have any fingernails left. Dragging myself out of the river I cast a quick spell over myself and my pants, a simple heating spell that I learned as a child, to dry the water that clung to my fur and garments. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?” I glanced up at the head of the damaged pier and caught the glare of Kovac, the Stallion technically in charge of this whole operation. “It would be better with working showers.” I retorted. “I know the feeling.” He called down. “Now get dressed, we got a general staff meeting in twenty minutes and I want you there.” “Alright, I’ll put on the Sunday’s best!” I called back as I pulled on the undershirt. After a few minutes fighting with my barding, I managed to strap on the shoulder pads and abandoned forgot about getting on the other pieces, instead tucking them under my left arm as I clambered up the slope from the river back to the main entrance. As I walked into the main entryway I tossed the unused barding into the pile of equipment that Gramps had been developing the prior evening. With nothing to stop me I simply rolled up the sleeves of the undershirt as I made my way through the halls of Neighfair’s outer ring. After a few minutes of walking though the dull and repetitive hallway I came across a set of stairs with a hatch at the top; the control room. The hatch had been left open by whoever had gone through last and the discordant sounds of ponies arguing spilled out and became more audible as I got closer to the top. “-is madness!” I heard Jericho yell as I finally made it into the control room. “We’ve all seen the reports-” “What reports?” I asked. “Because unless I missed something I did get an invite to this little tea party.” I saw Kovac tap a few buttons on a computer terminal before a large map of the Chicacolt area appeared on the main monitor. “We just discussing-” “-Assuming you can call it that.” Jericho interjected. “Right… Look, we were going over some reports that came in this morning from a recon flight.” Kovac punched a few more keys and a number of red dots appeared on the map, many of them at the mouth of the Chicacolt river, with a number of others lining the shore about five miles away from Filly’s Pier. “Overnight a large number of raiders positioned themselves on the riverbank, and they seem to have brought friends.” Kovac’s fingertips flew over the keypad once more and the map was replaced with a large picture of the mouth of the river, centered around a flotilla of boats. “Somehow within the last forty eight hours the raiders that called Filly’s Pier home gathered some friends and more weapons, centered around the large ship in that picture.” “It’s an old cruiser, assuming one could call it that.” Jericho added. “The configuration matches known files for one HMS Chicacolt, an old protected cruiser that was retired to the breaker yards about ten years before the Last Day. It was a one off, obsolete even when it was built. According to what records we have in our archives it looks like she was built primarily for coastal patrol and gunfire support on lightly-defended beaches.” “And somehow it’s still in one piece after two hundred ten some odd years in a ship-breaking yard, assuming it didn’t get pulled out immediately after the Last Day.” Kovac finished. “Now she’s at the mouth of the Chicacolt river with a small flotilla of old tugboats, fishing vessels and barges. All appear to have been weaponized to some extent with machine guns, belt-fed grenade launchers, mortar tubes, and a handful appear to have been mounted with howitzers and boarding ramps for beach landings. Long story short, it looks like they want the fortress.” “It’s one hell of a prize…” I muttered. “How many of those raiders are on the ground?” “Maybe one hundred on the riverbank, about four hundred spread among those ships.” Jericho said. “Minus the combat losses we took at the pier, and we’re at two hundred fourty combat-ready personnel.” “We’re outnumbered, although we hold a better position.” Kovac pointed out. “Our objective needs to be to strengthen our position further. Dusk, I believe you found a sizable number of field pieces in that hangar you’ve been living in?” “Artillery? Absolutely.” I retorted. “But those things are full of grease, same deal with the other weapons in the hangar. We need to clean all of them out before we can use them.” “Figures…” Kovac mumbled. “Juno, get whatever engineers that you can spare on it. I want as many of those guns combat-ready as possible.” “Alright, I’ll get right on it.” The mare said, immediately as she ducked down the hatch and left the control room with one less inhabitant. “Now does anyone else have ideas?” Kovac asked. “We need to buy us some time, that much is clear.” Jerico pointed out. “Anyone got ideas?” The room went silent as all eyes turned to the map, my own included. “We need a diversion.” I finally muttered. “Something to get all of them to go to one place and stay there for an extended period of time.” “You’re right Dusk.” Said Kovac. “And I think you just volunteered for a little field trip…” *** Banks of the Chicacolt River, Two Hours Later Four Miles from Filly’s Pier Dusk “Neighfair to Alpha Team, status report?” I glanced over at Steeljack and Dart before I sighed. “Alpha Team here, we’re in position.” Our position, understandably, was the upper level of an abandoned office building, not far from the Raider’s camp. All three of us were crouched by a broken pane-glass window that overlooked the riverbank, from where we could see the glint of sun off of the metal hull of the ships farther up the river, and the smoke of campfires from the camp drifting lazily through the air. “Copy that, stand by. We’re going to drive some of those raiders your way.” “And they don’t tell us how they plan to do it…” Dart groaned. “Doesn’t matter.” Steeljack said curtly as he slid a clip into his rifle. “I got a group headed our way along the riverbank.” I ducked around the edge of the window as if acting on reflex. “You think they saw us?” The sounds of breaking glass of windows on the floor below us was all the answer I needed. “What do you think?” Steeljack droned. “I get a feeling that you didn’t know we were bait.” Dart pointed out. “We were just supposed to tell Kovac how the distraction, whatever it was, was working.” I retorted. “Judging by those raiders horrible aim, I’d say we’re supposed to be the distraction.” “That’s not very reassuring.” I heard Steeljack mutter. “Then we’re in agreement.” I said. “Neighfair this is Dusk. What are we doing here, just giving those raiders targets?” “What raiders? There shouldn’t be any near your watch point.” “Tell that to the ones shooting at us!” I snapped. “Steeljack, can you get a good look at em’?” My grey furred companion tried to get a look out around the wall, but the sounds of lead striking the concrete and steel of the wall offered the excellent suggestion to duck back behind the wall. “You want a brief and witty observation or a full report? Because I don’t see either happening right now.” I could only roll my eyes at Steeljack’s snarky rebuttal. “Can you at least tell how many are down there?” Steeljack offered but a slight shrug. “Three, maybe four, hunkered down at the edge of the river. Maybe a few more wandering around, can’t really tell from right here.” “Well that’s better than nothing.” But that statement didn’t hold; the door behind us by ponies that we hadn’t yet seen and a small black cylinder was tossed into the room.”Flash-” BANG! The flash of light that accompanied the small grenade’s cannon-like report caused me to stumble, enough so that I landed on my ass in a pile of old ceiling tiles. “SINCE WHEN TO RAIDERS USE FLASHBANGS?” I screamed over the ringing in my ears. “WHAT?” Dart hollered. That’s when I had a sudden tingling sensation in my ears, and the ringing stopped. “Can all of you just shut up?” Another mare yelled from across the room. “See, I told you guys that they aren’t Hellraisers.” “Of course we’re not Hellraisers!” I spat as I wiped some of the dirt from my eyes. “And judging by the fact that we’re not all dead I can assume that you’re not with those raiders up the river.” “Wait, you’re telling us that the battleship-” “It’s a cruiser.” I interjected. “Whatever!” The mare spat. “You’re saying that raiders brought that thing here?” “Is there an echo in here or something?” I quipped. “Yes, those ships are controlled by raiders. Same deal with the camp up the river.” As I studied the mare I began to recognize what they were wearing; older riot gear, leather-covered plates of metal patching missing chunks, all topped off with worn out tan dusters. “You’re all Desert Rangers, aren’t you?” Steeljack asked, apparently having come to a similar conclusion. “What do ya know, they recognize us!” The mare exclaimed. “How do they know who we are?” One of the masked stallions asked, throwing the mare’s I’m-The-Greatest moment right to a fiery doom. I shifted around, trying to find footing, but stopped when two of the remaining stallions pointed their guns right at my face. “Does the name Cosmo mean anything?” I asked. “Cosmo…” The mare muttered. “All of you, lower your weapons!” She shouted, shoving her way forward and dragging me to my feet. “How do you know that name?” “He’s a friend.” Steeljack said as he managed to force himself between myself and the mare. “We can talk about it more later, but right now I need your name.” “My name?” She asked. I rolled my eyes, my thoughts turning back to the echo comment from a few moments ago. “Yes, your name. I’m Dusk-” “Well that’s convenient…” She muttered. “Why’s that?” “We were sent to deliver you a bunch of pre-war and immediate post-war military files.” The mare retorted. “Some real old stallion with more caps than I’ve ever seen showed up at our camp, gave us the files and all the caps with the sole condition that we deliver them to the ponies in the old base at Neighfair. Said you were with them.” I glanced over at Steeljack who reflected my concerned expression before returning my attention to the mare. “How long ago did you meet this stallion?” The mare offered a shrug. “Month and a half, maybe two months ago. Honestly I can’t put a finger on it.” “You’ve just been walking that long…” I said, getting a simple nod to confirm the veracity of my assumption. “Steeljack, Dart, am I the only one getting worried here?” “Am I missing something?” The mare asked. “You are.” Steeljack pointed out. “We haven’t even been here a week.” “Which brings up another question.” I added. “Who knew where we would be today two months ago? God, assuming he or she exists?” “Beachhead to Sunny, come in.” I watched the mare fish a radio out of her jacket and flip the antenna up with her thumb. “Sunny here, go ahead.” “Those ships are pulling up anchor and we got raiders moving on our position. Wrap up your leftovers for later, we gotta move.” “Got it, we’re packing up.” She said before tucking the radio back into her jacket. “You all heard Sandstorm, time to go!” The three of us only stood and watched as the group of mercenaries fled the room into the depths of the building. “Should we follow them?” Dart asked. “What do you think?” I retorted as I swung my shotgun over my shoulder and broke into a run. “Sunny, wait up!” It took a minute to catch up with the group of rangers in the depths of the building; by the time we found them half their number were in a waiting room, guarding the rusted and dented door to the building’s elevator. “Trust me, we aren’t going anywhere.” She said with a smirk. “We’ll have to squeeze the rest of us into the next car, so I hope you don’t have a problem with tight spaces.” DING! “I think we can manage.” I replied as the doors slid open. “So how’d you get this old thing working?” As we filed into the car Sunny pointed out a spark battery that was wired into the control panel. “I got that one there running the car controls, and a new battery in the backup generator’s command console got the mechanical components working.” The car shuddered as Sunny hit the button for the main lobby, and it began its slow descent through the innards of the old-world monolith. “Well that’s just one problem solved.” Steeljack said from the back of the car. “How are we going to get back to Neighfair with a bunch of raiders bearing down on us?” As the doors opened and I saw the chunks of concrete and pavement scatter through the lobby and in the street outside, I began to wonder the same thing. How are we going to get back to Neighfair? “My best guess? I’d say by the skin of our teeth.” “So we’re pulling a rabbit out of a hat? Again?” Dart interjected. I simply nodded and stepped out of the elevator. “Probably. Now let's get to it!” Author's Note And there we go, another chapter! ...Honestly I should feel relieved that I've knocked another one off, but I'm really too tired right now to care much. If there's any typos, let me know. I just had to go through and reformat the whole chapter after I imported it from Google Docs, so I'm not sure if making everything bold was the only thing wrong. Again, I'm just too tired at the moment. But we've introduced the Desert Rangers to the universe in their full capacity, not mentioning them in passing like in The Long Road (which is still on the back burner as I sort out how to end it's story properly, although I think I might get started on it's next chapter) or in the codex entries. And there's the first mention of this old stallion... He'll be showing up throughout Broken Mirror, nudging Dusk and Company in the right direction. Now does anyone have questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Improvise (Arc I)Banks of the Chicacolt River Dusk “Hit the deck!” I heard one of the rangers yell, right as he dove behind a collapsed bus stop. BANG! The impact from a small shell in the street kicked up chunks of old asphalt and showered our small group with the bits of centuries-old grey material. About half a mile away in the middle of the river was the old raider-infested cruiser, now moored off the beach that we were at the head of. “Damn it, those autocannons are getting really annoying!” Sunny shouted as more shells cratered the street. All while the shells were landing around us in the rubble, I could see some movement below us on the beach. As the last volley landed, three more Rangers hopped up onto the street and joined up behind the broken concrete that littered our part of the street. “Glad you decided to join us Sandy.” Sunny muttered. “You still have the parcel?” The masked stallion patted the pack on his back. “Still dry too. Now did you figure out a backup plan yet?” “We haven’t gotten that far yet.” I spat, flinching as a shell took a chunk out of the top of my cover. “So please, feel free to offer some suggestions.” Maybe it’s just me, but I could sense the poor Ranger’s growing headache. “Let’s see… We got two of the barges dropping guys on the beach, that ship has us zeroed and we’re hiding out in the shadows of some buildings that I’d question the integrity of. Maybe I’m being cynical, but I don’t think we have much to use.” I sat there as more shells slammed into the ground and mulled over Sandstorm’s rather bleak assessment of our situation. That’s when I looked up at an apartment building whose shadow we were in. Ten floors to the skinny-looking building. But as my gaze turned to the ground near it’s base I saw far more of it’s foundation exposed than would be reasonable. Barely visible was an old iron pipe, likely a water main, that had long since gone dry. “Do we have any plastic explosives?” Steeljack and Dart both started fishing what they had of the white explosive out of their pockets, all while I made my way over to the damaged building. Further examination of the trench proved what I had seen from a distance; a long-broken water main had undercut the corner of the foundation facing the beach. The concrete was hanging over the washout, a large steel beam making up the corner of the foundation. “You have a plan?” Steeljack asked as he walked up, handing me a small bag full of C4. “You heard Sandstorm.” I said with a smirk. “We’ve got a building of dubious integrity, and a growing crowd of unfriendly raiders down on the beach.” Slowly a reflection of my grin grew across Steeljack’s face. “You crazy bastard…” “What the hell are you talking about?” Sandstorm asked, having finally joined myself and Steeljack at the top of the washout. “Oh, nothing.” I said with a grin, swinging the bag of explosive ever so slightly. “Just our backup plan.” Sandstorm looked at the bag, the foundation, back at the bag and finally the beach. “Son of a bitch… Supressing fire!” The newly-invigorated stallion yelled. While we had been on the receiving end of shells behind the rubble, I was relatively protected in the washout. Sure there were some pebbles that trickled down the sides and bounced off my shoulder pads, but that was nothing. I quickly set into a pattern; grab a charge out of the bag, stick it to the beam, add a detonator and repeat. I got five of the two-pound blocks on the beam in a relatively clustered spot before I realized that I had emptied the bag. So I flipped the switches that were on the sides of the detonators to arm them and checked the detonator signal on my pipbuck. I hit the connect button, and the orange light on the top right side of the screen flashed orange three times, turned solid green, then shut off. A message appeared on the screen that confirmed all five detonators had been linked. I clambered out of the water-cut trench and nearly ran right into Steeljack. “You good?” He asked. “Good?” I asked, sounding as sarcastic as possible. “What’s good about live explosives?” Steeljack rolled his eyes. “We’re set!” He yelled, breaking into a jog that I was easily able to keep up with. We soon made it into the burnt-out husk of a bakery across the street. Right behind us came Dart, the Rangers right on her heel. “You think this is going to work?” I shrugged and pulled up the detonator prompt on my pipbuck. “We’re about to find out…” Click “Huh?” BANG! To say that the delay between hitting the detonator and the explosives actually doing their thing was shocking was a bit of… Well, let’s say that the weak of heart would’ve dropped dead right where they stood. “Did it work?” Dart whispered over the sounds of gunfire outside. Grrr…. “I’d say so.” I said, watching as the apartment building across the street slowly began to tilt towards the beach. But after a minute of the building shifting, it stopped moving and shed a few loose panes of glass from the upper levels to the ground below. “But I am allowed to be wrong.” “So now our backup plan has failed spectacularly. Thanks Dusk!” Sandstorm yelled. “Hey, don’t take it all out on me, that building was falling!” I insisted. “And from up here it looks like it needs a little nudge.” Came a voice of reason over my radio., one that held years of experience and could deal with- “Fire in the hole!” From our position in the bakery I saw two rockets stream down the street and slam into the far side of the building. Their explosion was muffled from our position, but soon the apartment building began to shudder and shift once more. Cracks began to spread along the side of the building that we could see. The seconds ticked by and they grew wider, breaking apart wiring and pipes that had hid within its walls for centuries. And as those very bonds broke, the building began to topple over faster, and faster, heading for it’s ineveitable- CRASH!!! The dust cloud that the building kicked up obscured our view of what little part of the beach that wasn’t covered in the rubble from the monument to our desperate plan. “That’ll do it.” Said Sunny as she walked out into the street. The rest of us filed suit, joining her in the dust-filled air outside our meager shelter. As an armed Vertibuck made a pass over our group, my radio chimed in once more. “Anyone still alive down there?” “We’re here General.” Dart replied, using her own to respond. “Any chance you can give us a ride home?” The radio remained silent as the echos of propellers bounced off the buildings that were still standing, and the same Vertibuck that ensured our plan’s success touched down with the doors wide open. I was the first one to clamber in and grab a seat, hitting it with enough force to shake the Vertibuck slightly to the side. “Long day champ?” Gramps asked from the pilot’s seat behind me… Wait, since when can he fly a Vertibuck? “You’re trying to figure out where I got the pilot’s license, aren’t you?” Gramps asked over the din made by a series of boots landing on metal deckplate. “What was your first clue?” I retorted. “You didn’t open your mouth and start throwing half-hearted insults around.” The old stallion replied as the craft began to shudder and lift from the cracked earth. Well he’s right, but I still don’t see where the old coot learned to fly a highly advanced and complicated piece of military equipment… I opted to push those thoughts out of my mind as the beach became visible in the Vertibuck’s window. If I didn’t know that the hellraisers were running around on that beach, I might feel bad for them. The sight of the shrinking specs that were the individual hellraisers moving around the beach below were the only real clue to the lives that were on the beach. Damn… If only everything was that simple. *** Neighfair, Twenty Minutes Later I’d be lying if I said I knew why Gramps flew us around Chicacolt. Maybe he wanted to give the raiders a chance to forget about the flying target, maybe he wanted to do some sightseeing. But as Neighfair came into view and I saw the plume of smoke pouring out of the storage hangar my heart sank. “What happened down there?” Gramps didn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t hear my question… Or maybe he did and was deciding to keep his mouth shut. The Vertibuck shuddered when it hit the ground followed by the decreased whining of the engines as they spun down to a stop. Only when the engines went quiet did the doors slide open and allow the faint smell of burning metal to drift into the cabin. The ground made a bit of a squelching noise as my boots hit the ground. I looked down and realized I had landed in a puddle of fresh mud, courtesy of the water running out of the hangar door. “What the hell happened?” I heard Dart wonder aloud once she hit the ground. Like Gramps, I kept my mouth shut and made my way into the hangar. The burning smell that permeated the air was stronger inside the hangar, but not by much. By the door was nearly a dozen unicorn Division members. They all looked like they had been through the meat grinder, faces plastered with soot and grime that was carried by the smoke. As I looked around I saw the cause of all the trouble; the ammunition storage for the field guns, or what was left of it, was nothing but a charred hole in the wall. “In case you’re wondering, there was a live bomb in there.” Kovac said as he took a place next to me. “The two EOD techs that were in there taking an inventory got out alright, and our lovely volunteers kept the fire contained to that section of the hangar-” “But now we’ve got nothing to throw at the cruiser.” I interjected. “That’s the long and short of it.” So now we’ve got a bunch of useless howitzers and a cruiser that can just blast away at the walls of the base… “Kovac, do we have access to the Chicacolt’s blueprints?” The older stallion mulled it over for a moment before nodding. “We should, might have to do a bit of digging to find them though.” “Just get your people on it.” BFFT!! The sound of the first shell landing outside the walls was the start to the ticking clock that is now hanging over all our heads. “And Kovac? I need those plans now.” One Hour Later “So… Do you have any ideas?” Strike asked once more. His incessant questioning over the last few minutes had only served to give me a minor headache, although it had no clear signs of abating. “Not yet.” I muttered. About five minutes ago one of Kovac’s engineers brought me a copy of the Chicacolt’s blueprints. The mare said something about the shelling causing trouble, but I didn’t pay much attention to her or the annoying knat that had followed her to my hiding spot. Instead I unfurled the old canvas paper and zeroed in in the heart of the cruiser. What needs to be noted about a cruiser as old as the Chicacolt is its method of propulsion; instead of electric drive systems powered by some fusion reactor, it used a far older method; steam driven turbines. Three turbines were for the propulsion system, set up at different gearing ratios for different performance. Only two moved the ship forward, the other turbine was geared so the ship could reverse. But those turbines are just the ships legs… Sure, breaking those made the ship immovable, but it still would be an intact floating gun battery. To kill the Chicacolt you’d need to cut out it’s heart. Or in our case, cause a catastrophic failure in the ship’s boiler. Should be easy enough considering it’s age at this point, and the likely deterioration in the materials that it’s made of after almost three centuries… But that’s beyond the point. The problem remains simple; how to get to the engine room on the Chicacolt without dying. And then you still need to get out of the ship before the boiler blows and takes out who knows what… It’s a steam system under pressure, so there’s no telling how it’ll die when injured. “Hello, I’m talking to you!” Strike droned. Maybe another set of eyes could help… “Alright Strike, riddle me this. How do we get into the Chicacolt’s engine room? We need to fight through the crew on that ship, so by the time we get there it would just be easier to take out who’s left and use the ship for ourselves.” “But we’ve got no use for it.” He pointed out. “Exactly! So how do we get into the engine room?” Strike started staring at the engineering section of the plans before he tapped a small section of the paper. “This maintenance hatch.” “Maintenance hatch?” I looked at the spot on the paper that Strike was pointing at, and sure enough there was a watertight hatch on the outside of the hull near the engine room. “If we can get someone under the ship and open the hatch, that same someone could go in, mess with the boiler and get out.” He said. “The hatch leads into a parts room. Why guard a parts room in the heart of the ship when you own the joint? Better yet, do you think they’d expect someone to use an old trap door under their feet to get into their house?” Alright, it’s clear to me that Strike is far more observant than I give him credit. “So if you got all that by looking at that one little spot on these plans… Where do we plant a bomb that’ll cause a catastrophic failure in that boiler?” Strike snorted in amusement. “Dusk, that thing is a bomb.” He replied. “All you need to do is drain the water from the boiler. Once the crownsheet is exposed it’ll become the fuse, and adding water to it will cause the boiler to blow apart. Obviously you adding water is a bit problematic…” “If it’s a steam boiler wouldn’t there be some gauge somewhere to tell how much water is actually in the thing?” “Yes, there is…” Strike mumbled. “I got it! There’s usually a valve on the bottom of the gauge glass. Close that valve and the water that’s in there will stay put. Just unbolt the handle and put it on backwards once it’s closed and it’ll look like the valve is still open. If the engineer thinks the boiler just needs to have water added, he’ll do it and BOOM! You got your explosion.” “Should I be concerned that you thought of this plan seemingly off the bat?” I asked. Strike shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s up to you. But you still need to breathe while you go for that hatch, and I can’t solve that problem” I nodded and mulled over my options before I decided on the answer I was searching for. “You won’t need to.” Author's Note And there's our third chapter in the first arc. Not only has Dusk shown he's still able to think on his feet, but he knows enough to ask someone when he's stumped. And who'd think that Strike could concoct a scheme so quickly? Up until now he was just muscle. And yes, we'll delve more into his excellent analytical abilities during his character arc. In the mean time, I'll keep cranking away on Chapter Four; Heart of Fire In the mean time, does anyone have questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Heart of Fire (Arc I)Somewhere over Neighfair… Another benefit of the augmentations is the near-indestructible skeleton. So if I botch this dive down into the river, at least I won’t need a cast afterwards. At least I kept thinking that while Gramps brought the Vertibuck over the walls of the base. I saw the traces of smoke that the high-explosive shells had left from their impacts on the beach and walls. “You know if they have anti aircraft guns on that ship?” Gramps yelled from the cockpit. “No idea.” I replied. “When the Chicacolt was built Airships were incredibly primitive. At most they were large canvas sacks filled with helium that had wooden baskets slung beneath them. Sure you might have had Griffins buzzing around, but unless my history is off Griffany was an isolationist nation until about twenty years ago back home. Safe to say they might have made some retrofits to that old bucket down there, but I wouldn’t bet on it.” “Fair enough, but how do you plan on getting under the ship in one piece? We’re flying around in broad daylight!” “Buzz their ship.” I replied. “I’ll jump out the side that’s facing away from the ship while you make a flyby at deck level. Odds are good that the raiders on the deck would be too concerned with a vertibuck to pay me much attention.” “Alright.” I felt the deck beneath me tilt to the left as Gramps banked the Vertibuck around. “But I’m taking the damages out of your allowance!” “I didn’t know I had one to begin with.” I quipped, watching the river as the Vertibuck grew closer. Soon enough the vertibuck began to level out as it began it’s run down the river towards the ship. Well, I can’t really call it a run... More like a brisk walking pace. I heard pings against the hull; likely bullets from raiders on the ship. That was my cue to side open the compartment door and expose my eardrums to the pulsing noise of the rotors spinning at an incalculable speed. “You ready?” Gramps yelled from the cockpit. “What do you think?” I hollered back. More bullet strikes rang out around the cabin as the raiders on the Chicacolt started to get their act together. “Alright Dusk, get going!” As my feet began to leave the deckplates I pulled down my goggles. I managed to get them down just in time to suck in as much air as my lungs could hold, immediately followed by my boots breaking through the surface of the water. By the time my head was beneath the waves the thousands of tiny air bubbles were already rushing past my face in a mad dash towards the surface. I whipped around to face the underside of the old cruiser, kicking up more bubbles as a result of my rapid movement. With the weight of the water around me squeezing on my chest I started paddling towards the hatch. It was that swishing sound that was my sole companion as the hull of the ship grew larger as I approached. Finally, only ten feet from the hull, I spotted it; the maintenance hatch. I grabbed onto the handle once it came into reach and slowly turned it down, matching the arrows that were cast into the door. It ran through it’s arc rather smoothly for a door that’s likely been submerged in salt water… I tried to tug the door back, and felt it move slightly. But further movement wasn’t very forthcoming. I planted my boots on the bottom of the ship and pulled against the door. That started to do it, but the door stopped about a quarter of the way open. Well, it’s the best I can get given the circumstances… Slowly I managed to squeeze through the opening and saw the water’s surface only a few inches from me. With one last kick I - Suddenly I felt something catch and I stopped dead. By this point my lungs were starting to burn. I turned around and found my impediment to be a jagged bolt around the edge of the door. The end of my pants had caught on it, tearing down about two inches before it stopped at the reinforced seam. I tried kicking off the side of the bulkhead to no avail; the seam held fast. With the burning in my lungs growing into a small inferno I began to think. I’m running out of air only inches away from salvation. I finally flicked my knife out of its sheath and leaned down. With one fluid motion I cut around my leg and freed the seam from the rest of my garment. With it now free of the rest of my pants I was able to worm my booted foot through it and get free. One last kick of the bulkhead sent me rocketing up into the air pocket. I had to force myself to stay calm; gasping for air might draw undue attention. Looking up I saw a ladder that led up to the actual deck. At the top was a water-tight bulkhead snugged up against a rubber gasket with a screw-style handle. I finally dragged myself up the ladder and steadied myself against the door. Before doing anything else I fished out my radio and clicked it on. “Dusk to Neighfair, infiltration successful. Going radio silent.” I shut off the radio and tucked it back into my bandolier. Glancing down at my pipbuck’s EFS I saw one red dot with an arrow pointing up, indicating the only raider in it’s range was a deck above me. Finally I unscrewed the door and stepped through. By the time I shut it there was water already splashing against the deck. So, with no other option, I slowly screwed the door back down. I glanced down at my pipbuck once I was done and silently groaned at the sight of two red dots on my deck. They grew slightly larger as the seconds ticked by, a likely indicator that they were nearing my position. I looked around and saw a small supply closet that had been left ajar. With no other options I opened it up, clambered in over a pile of cleaning supplies and shut the door behind me. That door stuck with a soft click. I stayed perfectly still as the two sets of boots made their presence known through the soft echoes that bounced off the walls of the ship. “You still haven’t given me an answer.” I heard one of the raiders say. “Ugh, are you still stuck on the pier?” The other groaned. “No, I went to another subject that we’ve been talking about all day.” The hallway was quiet for a moment before the raider finally spoke up. “We get caps, guns and roof over our heads. Who cares if the boss is out for revenge?” “See, that’s what worries me. You weren’t on the Pier when those soldiers came marching in.” The original raider said. “Compared those tanks to this tub? We might as well be bringing a knife to a gunfight. And need I remind you they got into a sealed military base? We’d probably live longer if we just left these guys alone.” While the two raiders kept up their banter I had slowly snaked my hand down to the holster at my side. With some difficulty I was able to flick the small clip off the top and slide out the small .45 pistol that I had salvaged from the Neighfair storage hangar. “Wait a minute, what the hell are we doing down here anyway?” “Smoke break?” While the two raiders were silent, I could imagine that the other was rolling his eyes. “You go do that.” Immediately I heard a set of boots crossing the deck, eventually fading from earshot. “Whatever… Still gotta check on the engineer.” That second statement was followed by more footfalls that eventually disappeared in the bowels of the old metal monstrosity. I pushed open the door of the supply closet and slid off the pile of junk to the deck. A quick doubletake confirmed that I was alone in the corridor, but judging by the raider’s monologuing I’ll be running into someone soon. I wheeled right and headed down the corridor a few yards to an open bulkhead door. I ducked behind the edge of the frame. I thought for a moment that there wasn’t anyone in the room, but then I heard something. It wasn’t a tool striking the bulkhead, or a shell casing skittering across the floor… But it sounded almost like someone had slugged a bag of sand. I heard that same thud noise another three times before someone started panting. “You have enough yet?” The guts of the ship were quiet for a brief moment as the raider chuckled. “At least you know how to be quiet.” I wheeled around the corner and leveled my pistol towards the raider. He was standing over a bloody white unicorn… Well, he was at one point judging by the bloody stump of what was his horn. “What can I say? You brutes are good teachers.” That's when the stallion turned his bloody gaze towards me. I froze once I caught it, but it broke very quickly. I holstered my pistol and slid out my knife instead. “Well I hope we-” SCHICK! Slowly I twisted my knife around, stopping as the rotation of the handle was halted by the raider’s ribs. “You need to shut the hell up.” I pulled the knife out and kicked the limp raider to the ground. I turned and knelt down next to the wounded unicorn, helping him sit up. “Thanks.” The stallion groaned. “Name’s Spark.” “Dusk.” I replied. In the brief silence that followed I studied Spark’s face. By this point his coat was turning pink from the blood that was slowly running down his face, and it had most certainly lost its shine. “What are you doing down here?” “Who do you think made this bucket work?” Spark retorted, followed by a small hacking fit which expelled a significant amount of blood onto the deckplates. “The raiders came to our settlement a few months ago. Killed everyone except me, only because I had the ship’s number two boiler in working order when they barged in.” “So they had you get the other one working and made sure the ship was water tight.” “You sure you’re not a mindreader?” Spark asked. “Wait, you left out the beatings and torture… So probably not.” “I’m sorry, but torture?” I know raiders are brutal and all, but since when do they sink to torture as opposed to outright killing? Spark pulled his shirt back to reveal dark red bandages wrapped around his stomach. “That raider you killed reopened the stitches. About a month ago one of the bosses thought it would be a good idea to show me what my small intestine looks like. Since then they’ve given me small doses of stimpacks and healing potions then busted up the stitches again right away.” Judging by how dark the bandages are I’d say that Spark is onto something… “So tell me Dusk, what are you doing here?” “Well… Our mutual friends have been taking some pock shots at a military base outside of Chicacolt. And considering I like the place, someone suggested I should send this old piece of junk back to the scrap heap.” “And how do you plan on doing that? The raiders will find a bomb down here with relative ease.” I offered a shrug and pointed at the boilers. “Not if it’s part of the ship.” “Ah…” Spark muttered. “That's borderline brilliant. So I would assume you know a way to disable the low water alarm?” “What low water alarm?” Spark rolled his eyes. “On both boilers there’s a float type control. If the water gets too low in one of the boilers, the firing gear for the affected unit is cut off and an alarm is sounded down here and up on the bridge. Once the alarm goes off there’s a delay timer that kicks in on the firing gear. Lasts about an hour, after which the crownsheet should be cool enough so water can be added to the boiler again safely.” I mulled over this new revelation momentarily before I got up and walked over to the boiler. “Are the alarm units prone to any issues?” “Not really.” Spark replied. “The units are both mechanical arms that keep spring loaded buttons from popping up and triggering the alarm. Look, just unbolt the service cover on one of those green boxes above the firedoor. Those are the alarms.” I made my way over to the main boiler and tried loosening the wingnut that held the cover shut, but had no luck in undoing the old fastener. “Its stuck.” “Try this, should break up the corrosion.” Spark was leaning against the boiler with a bottle of paint thinner in his hands. I grabbed the small bottle and poured it on the wingnut, handing it back to Spark as my free hand managed to break the fastener free and spin it off its stud. The service door on the control swung open with ease, revealing the metal arm that went down into a dip tube full of water. “So if the arm gets too far down the tube it can trip the alarm?” “Exactly.” Said Spark. “At about halfway down, it triggers an autofeeder to add water into the boiler. Stick it all the way up and nothing happens.” Well that’s a starting point. “You have anything I can stick in there to hold the arm up?” “You got a loaded gun. Stick one of the bullets between the edge of the diptube and the arm.” “If you say so.” I muttered. I fished around my ammo pouch and managed to slide one of the .45 rounds out of a spare clip. Sliding it under the mechanism proved a tight fit, but the bullet stayed put and kept the arm well away from the trigger for the autofeeder. With nothing more to do I swung the service cover closed and tied the wingnut back down. “How long until the crown sheet is exposed?” “Honestly? I don’t have a clue.” Spark replied. “I tested the controls by forcing the arms down, not trying to cause a catastrophic failure.” Well thats wonderful! “Look, close off the sight glass on this boiler, unbolt the handle and put it back on backwards. If we’re lucky no one will notice this thing run out of water.” “Well the thing will melt down instead of blowing up. Someone needs to add the water to this thing to get it to go-” Spark stopped and clutched at his bandages before he managed to steady himself on the side of the boiler. “Look, I’ll stay down here and get the boiler to go off. I’ll only slow you down.” “So I should just leave the innocent stallion down here to get shredded by shrapnel?” “You shouldn’t waste your time on a dead stallion.” Spark spat. “Besides, the glass is showing at a third. The crownsheet is already showing under a thin layer of water.” “So by the time everything boils off the sheet will be getting red hot…” “Exactly.” Spark said. “That glass was at full about five minutes ago. Give it another five and this thing should be ready to pop.” I offered a curt nod and looked over Spark one last time. “Well, good-” “Hey, who the hell are you?” I wheeled around to find a raider standing in the bulkhead. “Spark, do what you have to.” I said. “I’ll keep the raiders busy.” “You’ll keep me busy?” The raider asked as he pulled out his knife. “How you plan on doing that?” I pulled my pistol out and aimed it at the raider’s head. “By doing something like this.” BANG! *** “Someone kill that fucker already!” A mare’s voice yelled over the ship’s intercom as I ducked under one of her lackey’s right hooks. “What if I have a problem with that?” I wondered aloud as I jammed my knife through the side of the raider’s ribcage. “GRAGH! You’ll pay-” BANG! I rolled my eyes as the raider slumped to the deck with a bloody stain growing around the hole in his chest. “No I won’t.” I retorted to the empty room. I made my way across the otherwise clean floor to a bulkhead that was open ever slightly enough to allow sunlight to flicker through. I pulled the door open to reveal the upper deck of the ship… And at least a dozen raiders milling around. “Quick, someone stop the engineer!” I heard the same mare’s voice yell over the loudspeakers. “He’s gonna-” BOOM! I felt the deck shudder under my boots as an explosion echoed from the bowels of the ship. I turned around as a cloud of steam and smoke barreled out of the far hallway, engulfing two screaming raiders before the aftermath began to flow into the room. “Dusk to Neighfair, the main boiler is done.” I walked outside and pulled the door shut to keep the clouds away from me as the deck began to slowly rock from side to side. “Now if you guys don’t mind I could use a ride off this bucket.” “Sit tight Dusk, I’m on my way.” Gramps called out over the radio. “Hey, who the fuck is that?” One of the raiders asked. “That fucker has been running around killing my men!” I heard a mare yell from the bridge above me. I sidestepped a growing shadow just in time to see a mare in hulking salvaged power armor slam down onto the deck. “You all stay out of this fight, he’s mine.” I instinctively pulled my pistol from it’s holster once more and slammed home a fresh clip of ammo. “Ya, what she said!” I yelled out. “Shut up!” The mare yelled, jumping forward and stomping a foot-sized dent into the deckplates as she missed my own two feet. “I’m not feeling it.” I retorted. The raider tried to swing a sharp edge to her armor at my head, but I ducked low enough where it sailed past my face without scratching me. “Really, I’m not!” “I said shut up!” The mare finally swung her leg around and caught my gut. While I didn’t feel anything break, there’ll most certainly be a boot-sized bruise smack-dab in the middle of my chest… And maybe some other cuts and bruises from- CRACK! “Ugh…” Well smacking into walls still hurts like hell. I rolled over and managed to click my radio on. “Gramps, I could use that ride.” “Well if you’d take the cotton out of your ears you might notice the vertibuck coming in.” I managed to scramble to my feet and duck past another stomp from the Raider Leader, right as a Vertibuck swung down into a hover just feet away from the deck. Before I had a chance I felt someone grab my collar and toss me up into the air, tumbling to a stop at the deck of the ship’s wheelhouse. “Then can I ask for some help?” I sat up and realized something; my pants are soaking wet. “What the fuck?” Well as it turns out I’m sitting in a puddle of water… One that’s slowly growing. “The boiler must’ve put a hole in the hull.” And judging by the weird angle that the Vertibuck is hovering at I’d say that I might be in line for a swim. “What do you want me to do?”Gramps said over the crackling radio channel. “You know what? Fuck it, just leave the door open.” I started running across the deck, skidding around the Raider before leaping from the deck and landing head over heels in the Vertibuck’s compartment. “You good?” Gramps called from the cockpit. “I should be.” I groaned. The Vertibuck shuddered as it rose away from the surface of the river, making it a bit harder for me to crawl into one of the open jumpseats. Finally the Vertibuck began to bank, giving me the opportunity to roll into a sitting position and steady myself as I started feeling the waves of exhausting crash into me. “Hey, is it a problem if I’m feeling fried?” “Not really.” Gramps yelled. “When’s the last time you actually slept?” As I looked out the open compartment door on the dying Chicacolt, missing large pieces of the aft hull and deckplates and spewing clouds of black smoke and steam from the openings, the reality that I haven’t slept well since we first arrived became more apparent. Power naps and high-protein snacks aren’t going to keep me going. But another thought crossed my mind; why did I feel so… Indifferent by letting Spark stay down in the engine room? I just abandoned an innocent stallion to die just so we could blow up a boat. How do I not feel disgusted with myself? “Dusk, you alright?” Gramps called out. “Honestly?” I yelled back. “I just don’t know.” Author's Note And there's the last chapter in Arc I ladies and gentlemen! Now allow me to make a bit of a note here... Spark's presence on the Chicacolt will be investigated in the early part of Arc II (which will center around Dusk and his grandfather, Meteor Shower), and we'll get some in-universe explanation as to why Dusk was so willing to leave someone to die. I'll be honest, the whole "selfless sacrifice" thing is a bit hard for me to play out in writing. There are writers out there that can do it well but I need to work on it. With that in mind though I think I did an excellent job in capturing the technical aspects of steam technology in this chapter. Bar calling the box a "low water alarm" (which is a real thing) I described the function of a "low water cutoff". So if you have steam heat at home, you most certainly have one of those on the boiler. Maybe there's an autofeeder too but that depends on how old the thing is. Additionally, in semi-related news, I'm going to start writing some brief summaries of the different chapter arcs. As the arcs come up, that'll be when they see the light of day. Because I'm only deciding to do that now I'm going to try and do the summaries for Arcs I and II. And assuming I have the free money (mind you all I'm a college student) I'll have some cover art done for each arc. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker More Questions, Fewer Answers (Interlude I)Archer Location Unknown The first thing I notice was the stillness, a far departure from the cacophony that echoed around the Vertibuck cabin. But what vertibuck? My name… It’s Archer. I repeated the name a few times as I tried to figure out the sensations that are flooding my head. “It wasn’t easy, was it?” I looked up and saw Dusk brush through the cloud of mist like an ghosts. The memories… Dusk said he was going to show me how his so called ‘crapshoot’ started. That’s how he did it. “Well…” I muttered “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re right.” Well coming back to reality wasn’t easy, that much is certain. “If it makes you feel better the confusion shouldn’t be a problem as we keep going.” Dusk said, trying to sound reassuring. “Fine…” I groaned. “But I need a break.” Dusk nodded and pulled his stool out of the ether again and sat down. “I’m well aware of that. But before I cut you loose for the night I want to try and pick your brain a bit.” I shrugged and sat down on the stool that had appeared off to my left. “What about?” “Look, you just watched me let someone die. It took me a while to fully get my feelings about it tied down, so what do you think?” “Considering that I just had a bunch of memories stuffed down my throat so to speak… Kinda meh.” I replied. “See, that’s what kept me up at night!” Dusk shouted. “How could I-” “You’re doing it again.” Dusk stopped and took a deep breath. “Right… Anyway, some stuff on Spark did crop up for me and Gramps about a week later. We’ll go over that tomorrow night.” “Don’t tell me.” I groaned. “I just slept the night away, didn’t I?” “Yup.” Dusk chirped. “You did get carted off to a bed in the infirmary… Which in my experience is far more comfortable than some chair in the command center.” “Alright… Thanks?” “Your welcome.” Dusk started to fade away and darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision. “Now wake up.” My eyelids fluttered a bit before I finally managed to force them open. ‘Dusk’ wasn’t lying; at some point someone had dumped me in a bed surrounded by a bunch of beeping machines. Sitting up in bed it became apparent that I wasn’t the only one in the room. Off to my left were two beds occupied by the familiar faces of Phalanx and Cloud Runner, both friends of my father. Phalanx seemed to be worse off and was the source of the beeping machines that were hooked up to a bunch of contacts stuck at seemingly random spots on his chest. Cloud Runner, on the other hand, was sitting up and reading the contents of an unmarked manilla folder. For a brief moment he stopped and glanced over at me before going back to the papers that were the center of his attention. “You sleep well kiddo?” “For the most part.” I said with a sigh. “What are you reading?” “After-action reports.” Cloud replied. “You know something? It’s amazing how easily someone can boil down me getting my ass kicked to a few simple sentences.” “You got your ass kicked?” Cloud nodded. “And I’ve already given Dusk the bill for the new suit of armor.” I couldn’t help but internally cringe at the thought. Having seen Cloud Runner’s armor myself I already know it’s one of the most technologically advanced pieces of engineering built to date… And it’s likely scrap if he’s telling Dusk to replace it. “Well… That sounds like fun!” I said, trying to put on a chipper face. “Now if you’ll excuse me I must be going.” *** The Grotto, Command Center Dusk I kept staring at the display for the security camera in the infirmary. My focus was glued on Archer as I studied the mannerisms that I could observe through silent black and white footage. How she was carrying herself, the change in how she appeared to walk… And the forced wry grin. All things that I recognized, having done them myself for years. Cosmo might be oblivious to the changes but the memory orb has definitely changed something in Archer. Finally I sighed and took a step back from the security console. “What did I say about skulking around in the shadows Cosmo?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Archer’s father flicker into view as he dropped his invisibility spell. “You’re the one watching my daughter, so all bets are off.” “Do you at least want to know what I’ve learned?” I groaned. “Please Dusk, go ahead and enlighten me.” “The orb did something to her.” I replied. “Her mannerisms have changed. Remember how she’d roll around on the balls of her feet if you told her to stand still?” Cosmo nodded. “How could I forget?” “That’s gone.” “What?” Cosmo asked. “You heard me.” I spat. “Since she got back on her feet Archer hasn’t done that once. Instead she’s been trying to stay on the fringe and acts far more reserved than juvenile.” Cosmo was quiet for a moment before I noticed him clutch his fingers over the bridge of his muzzle. “She just survived a warzone. Wouldn't you be acting-” “She’s got my smirk.” “She’s got your what?” Cosmo asked. I rewound the security tape a few seconds and paused as the frame changed to a clear shot of Archer’s face. “See that?” I asked as I jammed my finger next to the eternal copy of the grin Archer was wearing. “That’s my smirk.” I stepped back and let Cosmo get in and get a look at the frame of footage that I had stopped on. “Son of a bitch…” “See what I’m talking about?” Cosmo nodded and finally turned towards me. “She’s never done that before.” “I know!” I exclaimed. “It’s incredibly creepy.” “Just creepy?” “Yes, just creepy.” Cosmo clutched at his muzzle again. “Where is she now?” *** Location Unknown Archer Alright, lets recap the last few minutes. Shall we? After leaving the infirmary I said to myself ‘hey, why not go down to the gym and lift some weights?’. So here I think that a hundred pounds might be a good standard to start with… Then I dropped the bar on my chest and now in the least ceremonious manner I’ve once again returned to the metaphysical smoke-filled room. “Archer?” Dusk asked as he appeared in a flash of light. “Didn’t I say we’d be doing this again tomorrow night?” “You did.” “So what makes you think you could handle weights when you’ve never dealt with them a day in your life?” I sat down on the magical ‘disappearing’ stool and rolled my eyes. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” “And obviously it wasn’t.” Dusk pointed out. “Just don’t do something you think of off the cuff in the future, ok?” “Fine by me.” I replied as I looked around the smoke-clouded corner of my consciousness. “I’m gonna be here a while, aren’t I?” “We at least have a few hours.” I nodded and let my shoulders drop a bit. “So what happened Neighfair?” Dusk shrugged. “Where do you wanna start kiddo?” “Well…” I muttered as I finally settled on my question. “You said that you and the General found some stuff on Spark about a week after you blew up the Chicacolt. What was it?” “Not what was it.” Dusk said. “What wasn’t it.” “And now you’re confusing me.” I retorted. “But that’s just it. We didn’t find anything. There wasn’t even any evidence he-” I just held my hand up and Dusk stopped short. “Look, just show me. It’s easier than listening to you droning on and it’ll kill some time.” “Ugh…” Dusk groaned. “We’re about to do Jedi, aren’t we?” “What do you mean ‘Jedi’?” I asked. Dusk must’ve snapped out of it because he went from annoyed to actually interested. “What do you have against Star Wars?” “I don’t even know what Star Wars is!” “It’s a human movie... “ Dusk stopped and nodded. “Sorry. I think the author was trying to be funny.” I offered a curt nod. “And this ‘author’ obviously isn’t that funny.” “Well he’s trying to break the fourth-” “Dusk!” I yelled. “Just shut the fuck up and get to the flashback before I smack some sense into you.” “Flashback?” Dusk muttered. “Flashback, right! Let’s go freeze our asses off.” “Absolutely!” Wait he just said something about cold, didn’t he? Author's Note Well there's the first interlude... Yes, I tried a fourth wall break. I got a giggle out of it myself, but I wrote it and I'm biased towards myself. Now the interludes won't do much except advance plot points in the "present" slowly until we hit the sixth arc, which will revolve around the final battle between Dusk and Kovac. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker The Truth Hurts (Arc II)Neighfair Command Center If I’ve learned anything in a week, one thing comes to mind right off the bat. Neighfair and Chicacolt are like night and day… You see, I look out over the river and I see the crumbling skyscrapers, burnt out buildings and rubble strewn across the banks of the river that the city took its name from. But Neighfair is something else. It’s old, sure, but it’s held up incredibly well over the centuries. In essence it’s a picture of a past that died in smoke and fire. But it's not the river that’s the border. If anything all it does it muddy where that line sits. The wreckage of the Chicacolt takes that border and twists it; on one hand the front half of the ship appears pristine after the steam-cleaning it received after the boilers blew… But on the other hand it’s sticking straight up out of the riverbed, bobbing around in the choppy water of the Chicacolt River. But none of that has been a bother. Instead I’ve been questioning morality for the last week. You see I’ve been raised to regard all life as precious and full of value, regardless of appearances. Yet I found it easy to sacrifice one pony simply because he was in a position of convenience to my goals; that single action flies in the face of how I’ve been raised… And while I should feel like shit I don't. Instead I feel at ease regarding the course of action that I followed, and that is simply terrifying. So once more I find myself staring out of the dirty windows lining the command center hoping to have an epiphany that will vindicate my decisions. So far, however, those answers haven’t been forthcoming. What did come to me was a simple realization; I’m being watched. “You’re still upset about Spark.” I turned and leaned against the window, turning my attention to the old stallion who had apparently decided to join me. “What do you got for proof Gramps?” In response Gramps pulled out a small black notebook. “Your journal.” He retorted, tossing me the small book. I turned the book over in my hands, having only found it and its blank pages in a storeroom the day after Spark gave up the ghost for my sake. “It seems you’re more honest with that little book then everyone else around you.” “Can you blame me?” I snapped. “In my experience I can’t expect for someone to be there when I need to vent.” Gramps mulled over my words for a few moments before he silently surrendered and took a place next to me at the window. “You’re right… Damn, I’ve had three years to get ready for this conversation and I still don’t know what to say.” “Then keep it simple.” “I’m sorry.” Gramps sighed. “I should’ve come back sooner to make sure you were alright… Hell, I even convinced your parents that going back for you wasn’t a good idea. We left thinking you would be fine and I came back to a bitter and cynical young colt. And then I got shot when those humans grabbed you and didn’t get back up to help you.” “Can I back up for a second?” I asked. “Sure, go right ahead.” “You got shot!” I insisted. “Who said you had to get back up?” “It’s my standard.” Gramps retorted. “I’m gonna stay down unless everything else that’s important to me is taken care of.” “At least we still agree on that.” Gramps offered a curt smile as he seemed to relax. “At least we do.” The two of us just stood for a few minutes before I finally decided that it was too quiet. “You don’t know what else to say.” “Nope.” Gramps replied. “But I’ll bet you don’t know what else to do either.” “And you’d be right.” “What’s your gut telling you?” “Honestly?” I wondered aloud. “I’m tempted to beat that cocky grin off your face.” Gramps nodded at that. “And you’d be well within your right.” “I know I would be. It’s just you did a good job on teaching me to respect the concept of ‘time and place’... And I do still need your help dealing with this Enclave clusterfuck.” “Dusk, leave the logistics and planning to Jericho, Specter and Kovac.” Gramps said. “You just make sure they’ve got the ponies to pick up the guns when the time comes.” “See, that’s the hard part.” I replied. “Who do you go to? It doesn’t seem right to go to Patch and ask for a chunk of her security staff.” Gramps must’ve known something, judging by the smirk plastered across his face. “I’ve been doing some research into the salvage yard that the Chicacolt was laid up in, and it looks like they had airships regularly come in with old and worn-out equipment. If one was on the ground when the bombs fell it could be made airworthy-” “And we could arm it as a gunship.” I said as I cut Gramps off. “Exactly.” The old stallion said as his wry smile grew more defined. “Kovac already gave us a Vertibuck to take us there. We leave in twenty minutes.” “I can live with that.” I said. “I’ll go find-” “No.” Gramps said, taking his chance to shoot down my idea. “We can’t risk everyone right now, there’s just too much work to do to get the stuff here working. It’s just you and me that are checking out the yard.” “You and me?” Gramps nodded. “You know it. Besides, didn’t you just say you needed me?” I offered my own smirk in return. “Damn... You still know how to get me on-board for your little side trips.” “You’re right.” Gramps pointed out as he pushed away from the window. “But you haven’t changed as much as you think.” “Oh really?” “Really.” Gramps added. “So are you coming? I’d figure you’d want to try and prove me wrong at some point.” *** Somewhere northeast of Chicacolt “Are you sure you don’t know why it went to some small scrap joint?” I yelled over the pulsing noise of the Vertibuck’s blades. “I’m positive.” Gramps called back. “There’s nothing in the records to say why some yard called Nuts and Bolts got the ship. The records about them I’ve dug out suggest they didn’t have the equipment to even break the Chicacolt up. And here’s the kicker. The navy sent a shit-ton of bits with every hold order.” “If I’m following this right, it sounds like the Navy officially sold the Chicacolt for scrap… But was really paying to keep her stored on private property?” “You got it.” “Then how the hell did the navy get away with it?” I asked. “Even back home they’ve always had a bit more leeway than any other branch.” Gramps replied as the helicopter shuddered and the doors slid open. The two of us hopped to the hard gravel below the doors and stood looking at the yard office until the beating of the Vertibuck’s propellers became nothing but a quiet companion to the lifeless expanse of ground. “But even I’ve got to admit that keeping an obsolete cruiser hidden from the bookkeepers is a bit much.” “There’s a lot a bits to keep track of in the budget.” I retorted. “I can’t be that hard to hide a bunch of bits.” “Maybe in the middle of a war it would be.” Gramps pointed out. “But the Chicacolt got laid up a decade before war even broke out. You can’t expect me to believe that the navy could hide major expenditures of bits on a monthly basis during a time when they’re probably not spending jack shit. Even the worst accountant would see something was up.” I made my way over to the office door and tried the knob. It turned with little resistance and I pushed the door inward, revealing a dust-covered desk by the entrance. While covered in grime, there wasn’t a sign of any other clutter or disorder. And now that I think about it, the windows are still in one piece. “Something else Dusk?” “Two centuries and some change, no sign of looters?” I said, pointing at the grime-covered windows and then the desk. “That doesn’t make sense.” “You’re right.” Gramps muttered. He walked past me and ran his finger along the edge of the desk, revealing the shiny lacquer that hid beneath the surface. “And two hundred years of grime shouldn’t come off that easily. Someone’s been here… Might not have been recent, but it was recent enough.” He said as he walked around the desk. He looked over the surface for a moment before he slid open the center drawer, and I was drawn to the shiny pistol he pulled out. “Who the hell keeps a polished sidearm these days?” “No clue.” Gramps dropped the magazine out and slid it back in as he started looking over the texture on the grip. “This is an officer’s pistol. Works fine, but it was never used…” “Alright, let’s back up.” I insisted. “We’ve got an untouched building outside a major metropolitan center. Now you find an untouched and unused military sidearm in the front desk? Gramps, I got a news flash for you. Nothing here makes sense!” The old stallion nodded in agreement and put the pistol back in the desk. “We need to see if there’s any records here that are still readable.” “I’ll check out back.” ‘Out back’, as it turns out, used to be a garage if the roll-up door is any giveaway. But instead of carriages or shelves loaded with tools there were crates and filing cabinets spread among five neat rows. I tried opening one of the cabinets, but the drawer held fast. I kept moving down the middle row trying the latches as I went and found similar luck. I finally made it to the crate at the end. I flipped up the handle and tried to pick it up only to rip the handle off instead. “What the hell?” I got down on my knees and ran my finger on the underside of the lid, feeling around for some sort of release. Instead I ran my fingers across a smooth section of what felt like glass. I heard a beep, then a latch unlock and the top of the case popped up. I opened it expecting to find papers… But found a large red breaker that came through the bottom of the case. I glanced over at the lid and saw the glass that I had felt. It covered a small black casing fitted in where the latch should’ve been located. A bundle of wires ran out of it, along the side of the lid, down the back of the case and into the floor next to the breaker. “It’s a fingerprint scanner…” I muttered. “So then what does this go to?” I yanked the breaker up and threw it across it’s travel lock. It took a few seconds, but the file cabinets that wouldn't budge began to slide into the floor one after another until they formed a staircase leading down to a heavy bank vault door. As I stared into the room below Gramps stuck his head out from next to one of the ‘steps’. “Did you do that?” “No, it was my evil twin.” I replied. Gramps rolled his eyes and waved me on down as he made his way over to the vault door. “I know I’m getting old and all, but I think we’re well in the realm of weird.” As I studied the door I saw another fingerprint scanner, but instead of being hidden it was built into a panel on the wall. “Watch this.” “Watch what?” Gramps asked. I started with my thumb, but the scanner flashed red. I could almost feel the stare burrowing into my skull as I pushed my index finger onto the scanner. It flashed red twice before changing to a solid green, followed immediately by the whirring of tumblers as the vault locks came undone. “That.” “Well… You can open a secret vault with your fingerprint.” Gramps muttered. “I’m not liking this at all.” The door the vault finally swung open and revealed a rusty elevator door. “You and me both.” While the door was rusty, the elevator car most certainly wasn’t. Sure there were some papers in the far corner, but the pale blue-navy blue paint combo was as spotless as the day it was first rolled on. I stepped in behind Gramps, and watched him hit the down arrow before… Well, nothing. You’d figure the doors would at least close. “So how about that weather?” I asked, sounding as innocent as possible. Gramps shrugged and hit the button again, and stayed silent as the door slid shut. Split by the doors was a logo of an anchor sitting in a snow pile. “I’d say it’s good enough to break out the sandals.” At least he’s still got a sense of humor… “Lets be serious for a minute.” I interjected. “What do you think the logo means?” “The anchor is the navy logo.” Gramps pointed out. “I just don’t know about the snow... Could be a cold storage facility and someone got a bit artsy.” “Then who gets creative in the navy?” “...Alright, good point. Our navy is full of a bunch of stiffs.” I heard a ding and the door slid back. The lights started flickering before they finally lit up a foyer in a pale white light. The walls weren’t painted in the same navy colors; there were polished steel girders and cleaned concrete that made up the walls of the room. While clean, the foyer was completely empty. No desks, chairs, cabinets, or decorations. But there was a windowed bulkhead in the far wall and some dripping pipes hanging from the ceiling. “Who puts a window in a bulkhead?” I thought aloud. “No clue.” Gramps replied. thunk thunk thunk “You hear something?” Gramps nodded. “Damn right I did.” thunk thunk thunk I swung the shotgun off my back and clicked on the tactical light. “Want to place a bet?” “Will someone just get me out of here?” “Oh shit…” I muttered. “There’s someone down here.” Gramps looked around the room before his gaze settled on the bulkhead. “Something tells me that ain’t a door.” As we got closer to the door I took some notice of the window. At first glance it appeared to be frosted glass, but I noticed the crystal pattern that came along with ice. “Son of a bitch… Is that what I think it is?” Gramps went right to work on the glass and had it cleared in a matter of seconds. “Porter?” “Of course it’s a cryo-” Wait, he didn’t answer my question. “Who the fuck is Porter?” “Dusk, Meteor? You’re both still alive?” “How does he know who I am?” I asked. “Porter, just sit tight. I’m gonna get you out.” Gramps said, trying to sound reassuring. “Dusk, you’ve got more experience with cryo pods. Would there be a manual release?” “How would I know?” “Right…” Gramps muttered. “Cover your eyes Porter!” Now I know Gramps is a strong stallion. But to watch him start blasting a bulkhead with magic and then peeling it back like it was a sardine can is high on my list of shit that I don’t expect to ever see. “Dusk, watch out!” Gramps yelled. He flung the door back and made a crater in the wall with it. While I was distracted he reached in and hauled out a stallion wearing a black wetsuit-looking thing that clashed against his canary-colored fur and red mane. “How do you know this guy?” The stallion looked up at me with a weird look stuck on his muzzle. “Dusk, did you hit your head or something?” “Look, Porter… We got a lot to talk about.” Gramps said, trying to pull a reassurance act. “If you say so boss.” “Wait, boss?” Now that I think of it I called Gramps that when I was little… “It couldn’t be.” “Dusk? Look, I know how things seem-” “How they seem?” I retorted. “There’s not ‘seem’ to deal with here.” “Dusk, please-” “No, fuck you!” I yelled. “I’m the only one who ever called you ‘boss’.” “Well I got it from you Dusk.” Porter added. “I just don’t see what the problem is.” “Of course you don’t see the problem.” I spat. “Gramps you bastard, you fucking replaced me!” Author's Note See, that's the truth that hurts. Getting replaced by a family member who you at one point idolized. That's Dusk's problem right now. Sure he's conflicted but he'd have never thought Gramps would've replaced him. So next chapter the good General will have some explaining to do. From there we'll see more of our "cold storage" facility, find out who Porter is and why he's been on ice for so long, and start our trip to the frozen north. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Cold Hard Facts (Arc II)Secret Navy Installation, Nuts and Bolts Salvage Yard “Since when was I a replacement?” Porter asked. “No your not.” Gramps spat. “You and I can talk later. I need to deal with the loudmouth.” “Excuse-” CRACK! It’s obvious I’ve forgotten a few things about Gramps. Sure he’s a smooth-talker at time and can convince you to do just about anything, but he’s still quick in his old age and he can throw a punch. “Ow…” I groaned as I rubbed my jaw. “That fucking hurt!” “It’s supposed to hurt!” Gramps yelled. “If you hate my guts why do you even care about the misconception that I replaced you?” “Because fuck you, that’s why!” “Did Osman shove a stick up your ass during those experiments? Because you’re acting like one’s there!” “Hey, cut the crap!” Gramps and I both stopped our growing argument on a dime and turned to Porter, the only probable voice of reason in the room with us. “We’ve got far more important problems to deal with than you two acting like an old married couple.” “Like what?” I asked. “Like the platoon of soldiers still in cryo on the lower levels.” “Did I just hear him right?” “You did.” Gramps replied. “There’s whole platoon down here?” “Well it’s not a full platoon.” Said Porter. “We were one short when we went under.” “But a platoon of what? Homicidal clowns?” “Marines. Specifically a Fast Reaction Force.” Gramps replied. “You’re right on Commander.” Porter replied. "Gramps, care to elaborate a bit?" I asked. “Long story short when I was in the academy my final project was a thought experiment centered around the establishment of a fully trained naval-based commando unit meant for crisis response.” “You seriously came up with that?” “Damn right I did.” He retorted. “After you got kidnapped I took the concept and incorporated aspects of it into the Ranger Corps as an official proof of concept. The Princess gave me the green light to develop the force right after we won at Dodge City, and our Porter was going to head up the unit.” “What do you mean by ‘was’? I’m already in charge.” “Not now Porter.” Gramps spat. “The day before you got back the Porter I knew was killed by Enclave saboteurs who were trying to destroy our communications equipment. Inevitably through Porter’s sacrifice we were able catch them and boot them out of the city.” “...You said official proof.” I muttered. “What was the unofficial proof?” Gramps offered a simple sigh and he seemed to force himself to relax. “You were. All that training I gave you came right out of that paper I wrote.” “Which means you replaced me with some schmuck off the street anyway!” “I did not.” “Did too!” I spat. “You even just said he was the ‘official proof’ you jackass!” “Am I missing something?” Porter asked. “Quite a lot.” Gramps said. “Now shut the fuck up and let the adults speak.” I said without bothering to give a glimmer of focus to Porter. “Dusk, Porter was an orphan.” Gramps added. “I’d been keeping tabs on him since before the Changelings grabbed me because I was planning on taking him in. Once I got free there was so much stuff going on I couldn’t find the time to go grab him.” “And what were you doing that was so important?” “Remember that De Witt guy? You know, the one Steeljack did a piss-poor job of killing?” “What do you mean a piss-poor job?” I asked. “Ya, the fucker is alive.” Gramps said. “Trust me, even after Steeljack took off a chunk of his face I was still dealing with him. And then when Steeljack triggered the beacon spell I left on my pocket watch I came back and for most part ignored De Witt… I didn’t have the time to go deal with him once I was reactivated and promoted.” “Well fuck, now we’ll have to deal with him too!” I groaned. “I’m still lost over here.” Porter added. “And you’ll stay lost!” I yelled. “Gramps, how did you get him under your command?” “I gave him a job after he washed out of the academy.” He replied. “He was with us at Las Pegasus where he planned out and managed the perimeter around the part of the city that the Enclave irradiated. It wasn’t hard to promote the kid and bring him onto my senior staff after that.” I could keep arguing… But I still don’t know half of what happened while I got used as a pincushion. “Alright, if you say so.” “Oh, I get it. Multiverse!” Gramps and I both exchanged concerned looks and turned to face Porter. “What did you just say?” Gramps asked. “Multiverse. You two are Dusk and Meteor Shower, but alternate versions of the ones I know… Or is it knew at this point?” “Probably knew.” I answered. “But where would you get that idea? Don’t get me wrong, you’re right on the money-” “Did you read a bunch of science fiction books as kid?” “I never stopped reading them.” Porter replied. “There you go.” Said Gramps. “Our version of Porter wasn’t much different. Whenever we weren’t doing anything or getting shot at I’d catch him with a book.” “Alright, that’s great and all but we do have some other things to discuss.” “What do you mean Porter?” I asked. Porter walked over to a small computer panel built into the wall and typed away at some keys. “We need to worry about the others.” “Right… You said there was a platoon down here.” Gramps muttered. One last key clicked on the panel and the wall itself slowly slid up to reveal a large dark room. One after another a series of fluorescent lights began to click on. The first level was lined with shelves full of guns, ammo and combat armor. The level below that slowly illuminated to reveal hundreds of sets of power armor in various states of repair. And finally, the bottom of the chamber was full of rows upon rows of cryopods, just barely visible in the fog that clouded the floor below. “Wow.” That’s the only thing I could bring myself to say as I walked out onto the balcony that overlooked the chamber. “There’s enough equipment in here to arm a platoon of five hundred.” Porter said as he took a spot next to me. “We knew we weren’t going to need everything, so the rest was supposed to be either for spare parts or distribution to friendly factions.” “What do you mean by friendly factions?” I asked. “We all went into cryo about a month after the bombs dropped.” Porter explained. “We had minimal radiation fallout here initially, and we were hoping to make contact with the command structure. But there was nothing until an airship put down about two weeks into our watch… It was a navy recon picket that had been out at sea when the bombs fell. After about a week they took the civilian personnel and headed to a research base somewhere in the tundra. And with them they took the other activation key to keep it safe.” “Activation key?” “There’s two keys. I have one, but the other went with the airship commander. The plan was for us to go into cryo until such a time where they could return, thaw us all out, and bring us to the research base. Before we could go though they needed to establish that the base was safe and operational, hence the need for us to get in the pods.” “You didn’t know when they were coming back for you.” Gramps added. “We didn’t. But those pods were the best way for us to stay alive until the recon picket returned. Mine was wired up to the print scanner topside. If someone with proper clearance triggered the locks, it would wake me up so I could be ready for whoever came down to get us… Although I didn’t count on the locking mechanism sticking” “And you probably didn’t count on being in a freezer for two centuries either.” I pointed out. “Ugh…” “What’s wrong Dusk?” “We can’t leave those guys on ice.” I groaned. “We need soldiers and we’ve got a whole company staring us right in the face.” “But we can’t thaw them out without the second key.” Gramps muttered. “You want to go looking for the patrol ship.” “No, I want to go find the research base.” I said pointedly. “Who’d have the time to shoot down an airship right after the apocalypse anyway? I’d wager that at the very least they made it to that base.” “We don’t even know where the base is.” Gramps is right… We don’t know where the base is. But we do have access to records that could tell us. “Stay here.” I said as I started heading back for the elevator. “And just where do you think you’re going?” Gramps asked as I stepped into the elevator car. “I need to go make a call.” I replied as I hit the up button. As the door finally closed and the car shuddered to the start of its upward journey I let out a breath I had been holding since Gramps socked me. And in light of what I’m about to push for it might have been wise to hold it… Three Hours Later I tried to stay out of the way of the soldiers that were milling about the bunker’s atrium. But my efforts to keep my eye on Kovac, Jericho and Juno as they got the run-down of the bunker from Porter kept me in the way of eavesdropping on the conversation. The best I got was watching a bunch of nodding as Porter kept talking. “You hear anything interesting?” Gramps asked. “I wish.” I muttered. “Why the hell would Porter tell us to stay out of their meeting?” “Kovac can give us resources to try and find the missing key.” Gramps pointed out. “I’d bet that Porter is pleading his case to him in the hope of getting some sort of assistance.” “Or there’s something he doesn’t want to tell us.” I replied. After a few more minutes in silence Porter and Kovac made the short walk to join us in the foyer. “We’ve come to an agreement.” Said Kovac. “What kind of agreement?” Gramps asked. “A simple one.” Kovac retorted. “If we pick up on the return ping from the naval airship’s homing beacon I’ll allow the three of you to go and attempt to locate the missing key. If not we’ll try to devise a bypass so we can get the other soldiers out of cryostasis.” “You’re making it sound simple.” I pointed out. “What’s the catch?” “The catch is actually picking up the beacon’s signal.” Porter replied. “Dusk, the Northern Wastes is a snow ridden hellhole.” Said Kovac. “We’ve sent patrols into the tundra before. Radio communications up there are spotty even with properly functioning equipment. With that in mind our best chance of picking up the signal is an old base camp we established in the border region.” “Old base camp?” I asked. “How old are we talking?” “No one has been there in twenty years.” Jericho added as he joined the conversation. “We abandoned it and the communications equipment after an attack by a bunch of locals.” “You moved out when some locals attacked?” Gramps asked. “You haven’t seen ponies like these.” Jericho muttered. “They look emaciated, so you’d think they’re harmless… But I watched two of my subordinates get cut to pieces by those fuckers before we managed to lock down the camp. From there until extraction they were taunting us. The leader cut off one of their faces and wore it like a mask!” “So we have to fight off crazy locals while we try to ping the beacon? Sounds like a catch to me.” I pointed out. “We’ll have to make due.” Gramps said. “Kovac, can you spare a lift?” “There’s a vertibuck already waiting for you topside General.” “Well ain’t that helpful.” I muttered. “I would hope it is.” Kovac replied. “Just promise me something.” “You’re not gonna ask us to do something stupid, are you?” Gramps asked. “No, not at all.” “Then spit it out, what do you want?” I asked. Kovac offered but a soft grin at my demand. “Just come back in one piece.” *** Four Hours Later… “You’d figure that the heat would work in this thing…” I muttered as I pulled on a bomber jacket over my armor. “Its two hundred years old, what did you expect?” Jericho asked. “Do you really want to know?” I retorted. “Eh, probably not…” “Good.” The cabin went silent aside from the hum of the rotors and the wind whipping past the windows as we flew on through the cold air of the Northern Wastes. “So what’s the plan?” Porter asked a few minutes later. “Well if we manage to ping the tracker on the airship we’ll radio Kovac and let him know that we have a location.” Jericho replied. “Specter and I will hold the outpost and keep the comms running while the rest of you head for the ship. Assuming it’s still flyable we’ll just fly it out. If it isn’t we raid it for anything of value that we can fit into the Vertibuck, hope the key is somewhere on board, mark the location for future reference and get the hell out of this nightmare.” “Sounds easy enough.” Porter muttered. “Keep in mind that all of this only happens if we pick up the beacon.” Jericho added. “If we don’t, we head home and find a way to bypass the cryo lockout.” “But what about the locals?” I asked. “Will you and Specter be able to keep them out of the outpost?” Jericho chuckled. “With all of us there it shouldn’t be a problem.” “So you don’t think we’ll find the airship?” “Hell no.” He retorted. “Even if one airship survived up here for two centuries untouched we’ve had issues with communication up here for years. It’s something to do with the clouds and snow, assuming you could still call them that. They carry particles fallout and dust that screws with radio signals.” “What the hell was up here to justify that much firepower getting spent on the region?” I wondered aloud. “No one knows for sure. Hell, we don’t even have copies of records relating to some of the sites in the northern wastes simply because they were Ministry projects.” “Why would that matter?” Gramps called from the cockpit. “Most projects that the ministries ran had entirely separate security clearance from that of the Guard. We only got to see stuff if it was strictly military or if Dusk was involved in the project. It was compartmentalization on a completely different level than any of us are used to.” “And since the whole world went to hell there’s no way to tell what the Ministries were up to. Ain’t that just peachy?” “Look, let’s just skip the ancient history.” Gramps yelled from up front. “You said these locals were dangerous. Tell me more about what we’re flying into here.” “For starters, not all the locals are bloodthirsty killers.” Said Jericho. “The sane ones call them snow furies. They’re the region’s closest analog to raiders, but that’s probably a bit generous.” “What makes you say that?” I asked. “For starters they look sickly as all hell.” Jericho explained. “Most sane people would think that they’ve been imprisoned somewhere. They look like they’ve never eaten, they’ve got splotches of fur falling off and every single one I’ve ever seen has fur that's some shade of white. And to top it all off they can move.” “So they look like death but don’t act like it?” Porter wondered aloud. “Damn straight. Beyond those few simple facts we don’t have much else on these furies. To our knowledge no one has ever managed to catch a live one and question him or her on the nuances of this loose band of psychos.” I kept my mouth shut for a few moments as I tried to digest some of this information. From the sounds of it these Furies aren’t normal ponies at all. And of greater concern is their ability to function. If they’re emaciated as Jericho says, then how are they not dropping dead from severe malnutrition? How are they not freezing to death up here? I couldn’t come up with a rational answer to my own question based off of the information that I was trying to sort through. But one single thought kept finding it’s way to the front of my consciousness, one that was admittedly concerning. We’re fucked. Author's Note Finally, about damn time. We're on the way into the frozen wastes of the north in search of our missing key. Will we learn something about this bunch of uglies? Hell if I know! But we're on our way and we'll know for sure by the end of this arc. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker The North (Arc II)The Northern Wasteland, Border Region The Vertibuck shuddered as it touched down, shortly followed by the slowly dying drone of the engines. Jericho made his way to the left side of the cabin and peered out the porthole. “Alright, the outpost is still standing.” He said. I hit the release for the door and pulled it back along its run. The air immediately changed from slightly chilly to downright cold. Across my face I felt my fur begin to tingle as wind began whipping snow and ice around the Vertibuck’s cabin. “Is it always this cold up here?” “It’s usually colder if my memory is correct.” Jericho noted. “Good to know…” I muttered as I made my way across the clearing to the building. Judging by the ruins of houses surrounding it I could only assume that we were in the heart of what was once a bustling town before the Balefire ripped across the land. The one standing building, likely a government building in it’s past life, had clearly seen better days. Paint had long since peeled away and fluttered off as chips in the harsh northern winds. “What was this place?” I heard Gramps ask. “We never figured that out.” Jericho replied, followed by the slam of the sliding door on the Vertibuck against the hull as he closed it. “The building was stripped bare by the time we first found it. It could’ve been a guard post, someone’s house…” I ignored the rest of the conversation and looked around the ‘clearing’. As my glare settled on a dead bush, I thought I saw something rustle. I blinked and for a brief second it looked like there was a set of sickly red bloodshot eyes looking back at me. “I think we’re being watched.” I shouted. If anyone was in the brush, I wanted them to know I saw them. “I’m not picking up anything on EFS…” Jericho mumbled. “You sure?” “Are the Snow Furies know for red eyes?” “... Fuck. We’ve got to get inside.” As Jericho marched off towards the barred entrance to the building I shouldered my shotgun and started slowly backpedaling towards him. At least twice I thought I saw two more pairs of red eyes staring at us from the underbrush. “Can you get that door open any quicker?” I asked. “I’m working on it.” Jericho insisted. After a few tense moments the door swung open and our small group piled in before slamming the door shut. Gramps blasted the door with a bolt of electricity and managed to make a rudimentary weld securing the door to it’s frame. “Hopefully that holds…” He muttered. The two of us walked deeper into the empty building, finally finding Jericho, Specter and Porter hovering over a large computer console. “Is that the communications system?” I asked. "No, it’s the espresso machine.” Jericho droned as he typed away. “Oh… In that case I’ll take a decaf mocha swirl.” I retorted. “Very funny Dusk…” Jericho muttered. “Now how secure is that outer door? “I welded it shut.” Gramps answered. “I don’t think we’ll have anyone coming in through there anytime soon.” "I sure hope so. Those furies are tougher than they look.” After a few minutes of fiddling with the controls the console lit up with a map of the region on it’s screen. “Alright, tracking program is loaded. Porter, you have the signal?” Porter fished out a holotape and loaded it into one of the console’s drives. “Got a copy right here.” “Excellent!” As a text box appeared on the screen I could only watch as Jericho typed away at the keyboard. On the map a thin bar began slowly rotating about. “Alright, so how’s this work?” “This bar here represents the direction that the signal is being aimed in. If a return ping is received then the direction of the signal will reverse until it gets another ping, and on and on until the system gives us an approximate location of the airship.” “How long is this going to take?” I asked. Porter offered a shrug. “Probably an hour or so, and that’s assuming a whole hell of a lot.” “We’re running on an awful lot of assumptions right now…” Specter muttered. “Specter’s right. We are assuming that quite a bit is working in our favor, and we’re potentially surrounded by hostile locals.” Gramps pointed out. “Simply sitting around isn’t going to work for us right now.” “So we do a better job of securing our position.” Jericho retorted. “You could always sweep the building General, I’m not stopping you.” “It’s probably not a bad idea…” I said. “Is there anything in specific that we should check?” “Not that I can think-” HA HA HA HA! “What the hell was that?” Specter asked. I clicked on the light on the side of my shotgun and moved the beam across the far side of the room. “I don’t know.” TINK TINK TINK TINK TINK I swung my gun up towards a ventilation duct just in time to see it stop shaking as something passed through it. “I think we’ve got company.” I heard the hammers of two revolvers click in agreement, followed by two more lights that illuminated the room. “Has that scanner picked up on anything yet?” Gramps asked. “I don’t… Wait, I’ve got one!” Jericho shouted. I felt a bit at ease at hearing those three simple words. “So the ship is out there. Good. Lets hope-” UMPH!!! I felt someone slam into my side, and in the split second it took me to realize that fact I had dropped my shotgun and had slammed into a wall about ten feet away. In the time it took for me to clear my head and back to reality the ponies around me had completely changed. Out of everyone in the room, only Gramps didn't look like he was panicking. The steely gaze that he wore when I was young had made a return in the face of whatever had just hit me. But what had hit me? After realizing that the entire group was looking at someone I turned my attention in that direction. Standing in the far side of the room was a snow-white pony. It was clear that there were patches of fur missing across it’s face, but where the skin underneath that fur was the same shade of white it made it difficult to tell where fur ended and skin began. But even with the ragged dull colored clothing, what really stood out were its eyes. They were yellow and heavily bloodshot, with the tissue around its eyes clearly bloodstained And why do I continue to call this pony ‘it’? Well… I can’t tell if this thing is a mare or a stallion. This thing, this husk of ponykind, was so far gone that I couldn't even tell what side of the fence it fell on. There was no yelling, no screeching, no noise at all. That monstrosity simply set it’s demented gaze on the oldest member of the group and charged. If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought that Gramps would’ve at least looked more concerned, but his gaze remained stone-cold as the fury finally got within arms reach. As it went for his throat Gramps snapped, grabbing the creature’s outstretched hands and using the momentum of the fury to swing it right around as he pivoted around on his heels and tossed the fury across the floor. I scrambled to my feet and spotted my shotgun. With a tug of energy from my horn it came skittering across the floor before leaping into my hands. With no other clear options I aimed the weapon at the fury, now back on its feet and limping towards Gramps, and clicked the safety off. “Back off!” In the blink of an eye the fury had rushed forward and was nearly on top of me. Everything around me seemed to slow to a crawl, including the fury’s charge. I moved to get out of the way and to my shock I was moving at normal speed, and by the time I had gotten clear everything began moving normally again, and I could only watch as the fury smashed into the concrete wall face first. “How the hell did you do that? Porter exclaimed. I looked at the fury, busy rubbing it’s obviously broken nose, before turning my attention to Porter and offering a confused look. “I have no idea.” “Did you drop into SATS?” He asked I looked down at my pipbuck and saw that the standby timer for SATS was still full. “I don’t think I did.” “Figure it out later.” Gramps barked. As the fury had gotten its bearings, he must’ve decided that letting the thing keep running around would be a bad idea. So in mere moments he had the creature by the collar of the rags it was wearing, and put it face first into the concrete floor with a sweep of his legs. “Toys aren’t supposed to fight back.” The fury groaned from its place under Gramp’s boot. “Get over it.” Gramps retorted as he stepped off the fury. “Now how many of your friends are outside?” “Enough.” “Enough doesn’t cut it with me. I want a number.” Gramps rolled his eyes as the grip he had on his revolver tightened. “ CRACK! Behind me a wood covered window splintered and two bloodied white hands started tearing at the broken boards from the outside. “Oh shit!” Specter yelled. He went for his rifle but Jericho held it down. “What the hell are you doing?” “Bullet holes don’t do much to keep those barricades intact.” The frantic stallion retorted as he pulled out a knife. Once he reached the window he grabbed the first hand that came into arms length, pulled it in and stabbed the knife three times down into the exposed length of arm that it was attached to before shoving the hand back out through the hole in the barricade. He didn’t get a chance to grab the second, as the hand’s owner retreated from the danger that couldn’t see behind the barricade. With one window empty, two more hand managed to get between the gaps in the barricade farther down the wall and started clawing at the barricade. One after another this started until all six of the barricaded windows had arms and hands trying to rip the barricades away to allow their demented owner's entry. The fury got up and backed away from us towards the far wall and the shadows that offered the creature company. With a wry grin and a chuckle the fury disappeared into the shadows, leaving us with one single statement; “I told you there were enough of us.” As the furies outside slowly made progress at the barred windows I realized that everyone in the room was rather quiet. Maybe fear was kept the room still, or maybe it was there simply out of shock. But that was broken when the terminal in the room made a loud ding. “Holy shit, we’ve got the airship’s location.” I whipped around and saw the dot blinking on the screen, easily a few inches from what was represented as our present location on the map, but with no scale I couldn’t wager a guess as to how far we’d have to walk. And that right there presents another issue. If we’re surrounded by these snow furies, how do we get to the airship ALIVE while we’re getting dogged by these things? To top that all off there’s likely other obstacles in our way between the airship and our enclave. But as the cord from my pipbuck retracted I realized that Jericho had deployed it while I was distracted by my thoughts. As I looked down at the screen I saw the map had opened up with a new destination marker highlighted on it easily a few hours of hiking away. “So I guess we start walking?” I asked. Jericho got up from the terminal and hit the power to it. “Not even close. We’ll take the Vertibuck and bypass the furies.” “Did you notice what’s outside Jericho?” Specter asked. “Because just getting to that rust bucket will take a miracle.” “Then start shooting once we get out that door.” Jericho spat. “That goes for everyone. If you something move and it isn’t one of us, then shoot it.” “Wouldn’t it be a better idea to stand and fight? We’ve got a reasonably secure position that we can use to our advantage.” Gramps pointed out. Jericho shook his head. “That won’t matter once the furies break the barricades. Just… Look, just trust me. These things aren’t something to easily fight off.” “We only need to hold them long enough to get the vertibuck airborne.” Gramps countered. “Can we do that?” “Probably.” Jericho admitted. “But it isn’t going to be easy.” A quick check of the slot cut at the back of the tube magazine of my shotgun and saw that there were two shells visible. The tube held it six rounds ready to go with a seventh round already in the chamber. Would those shots be enough to help us get back to the vetibuck, or am I going to have to get primitive and fight like a pony who has yet to discover fire or pointed sticks? “As I see it we’ll be fighting those furies eventually. We might as do it now.” Jericho nodded and shouldered his rifle“Well then… Who wants to get the door?” “We don’t need a door.” Gramps replied. He quickly wound up and blasted the largest window with a bolt of white magic, obliterating the barricade and splattering parts of the window frame with the blood of the fury that was on the opposite side. The fragments of wood had only just settled into their new homes in the drifts along the side if the building once I cleared the sill and landed in snow that went up to my knees. As I struggled to sprint out of the drift I felt something latch onto my leg and trip me up. As my face landed in the thinner layer of snow away from the building I felt someone’s hands trying to pull at my boot. I managed to get onto my back and sit up to see Porter hop out the window and plant his boot into the back of what was apparently a snow fury. He stomped onto it’s arm and hauled it out of the bank. Gramps was the last one out of the building with his revolver already in hand. “That’s a mistake!” He yelled as he cocked the hammer and aimed the barrel at the pile of snow that was likely the fury’s head. BANG! The snow changing color from white to red was met immediately by the fury’s grip on my boot releasing. “Come on!” Porter yelled as he hooked my shoulder guard and dragged me to my feet. “We need to keep moving!” Jericho and Specter had already made it to the vertibuck, something that became abundantly clear as I half ran, half stumbled over to the aircraft. Both of them were sweeping the clearing with their rifles but weren’t firing. As I turned around I realized the decided lack of the snow furies that had been trying to force their way into the outpost. “Where the hell are the furies?” I asked. “No clue.” Jericho replied as he struggled with the nearly frozen lock on the vertibuck’s external door. He kept trying to chip away at the ice that was locking up the mechanism with the key franticly. “Come on… This shouldn't have frozen already.” THUNK! Before our eyes the handle on the outside of the door turned upward and the door was thrown back along it’s rail. Inside was clearly a snow fury, but it was wearing an off-colored white fur mask. Wait… That’s not fur. As the fury leap out and slammed a hook down into Jericho’s shoulder I saw the small patches of fur that had fallen off. Underneath was dried and cracked skin. There were clear bruises suspended in the petrified flesh, and dried blood around a hole in the top of the mask where a horn would’ve been. I wasn’t just staring the face of another fury. I was staring at the dismembered face of a pony I had abandoned. That thing was wearing Spark’s face. As the fury unhooked Jericho and tossed him to the side he saw me and kicked a bunch of snow into my face. I was quick to wipe the snow out of my eyes and backpedal away from the fury. It had instead grabbed Specter and tossed him on top of Jericho. When the fury turned to Porter he slammed him into the side of the vertibuck, shaking the whole craft with the impact. That’s when I noticed he dropped something in the snow. It was small and round with a square protrusion sticking out from the top. While I couldn’t tell much more in the dim light of the wastes, it didn’t take much to realize that it was a grenade. And what was best is that the fury was too busy trying to pummel Porter. Remembering the trick I used inside to get my shotgun, I pulled the explosive towards me and checked the fury hard enough to knock it into the veribuck’s cabin. “Get back!” I yelled as I pulled the pin on the grenade. As I rolled it across the floor the fury had already gotten to its feet and was scrambling towards me. I slammed the door shut and managed to turn around before I heard a thud. After that all I could hear was ringing, followed by a wave of heat that washed over me before I felt my feet leave the ground. I know I was tumbling head over heels, but how far I went was beyond me. As I tumbled through the underbrush and came to a stop on my back. I wanted to try and find Gramps and Porter, maybe make sure they were alright but the weight that crashed into me as I tried to sit up kept me on the ground. To put it simply I was exhausted. I opened my eyes and noticed something odd; a cloaked figure standing over me. In the pale light I could make out a grey beard but not much else. Maybe I was staring at the grim reaper? But as the figure walked away I saw a red flare shoot up into the sky directly over me. As the flare kept flickering I felt the exhaustion start weighing on my eyelids as they finally shut. But off in the distance, over the dim whistling of the wind through the trees I heard someone yelling “Dusk!”. But for everything that had happened I just couldn’t bring myself to care or even speak up; all I could do was let my neck go limp and slowly drift away into unconsciousness. Author's Note And there, after much work (both on the story and otherwise), is our introduction to "The North". I think that I did a decent job with the snow furies after my tweaks on the first pass. Instead of the repertoire between the fury that snuck into the building and Meteor Shower, we've got an actual fight. But of course we've got questions... Like why was the fury that hid in the vertibuck wearing Spark's face? For those who don't remember Spark was the engineer who martyred himself in the last arc when he blew the boilers on the Chicacolt. While there's no clear explanation now there will be in the fourth arc. And finally we've been introduced to two more plotpoints to consider; Dusk's seemly rapid onset of exhaustion and the bearded figure that he saw before passing out from said exhaustion. Anyone who read the codex (or the first part of Broken Mirror, which is still up in all it's flawed glory) knows that Dusk spent a bit of time with ONI and received augmentations meant for human Spartan candidates. Dusk at this point in the Broken Mirror timeline has yet to fully understand what the augmentations have done to him, and those same augmentations are definitely feeding into his "energy" issue. That'll crop up in the upcoming Arc III where it'll get a "band-aid" solution. As for our bearded "friend", he'll be cropping up from here on our. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Relics (Arc II)The Northern Wasteland, Exact Location Unknown I wouldn’t call myself a heavy sleeper. My whole life I’ve been as close to sleeping with one eye open as any pony has. But for whatever reason I found the cold ground I was lying on to be something of a relief. I had definitely woken up, but I couldn’t find the strength to open my eyes. Then I remembered the furies. We still don’t know where most of them went. At that last thought my eyes snapped open to show me the dull grey ceiling suspended above me. As I sat up and looked around I realized two things. Right off the bat was the different environment. The other was my pipbuck, or lack thereof. When I looked down it wasn’t anywhere in the room, meaning someone removed it while I was passed out. As I got to my feet I realized another point; I’m starving. The last time I felt this hungry was after two days of throwing up when I was really young… But I couldn’t have been out that long, could I? The bulkhead to the hallway was easily opened to let me out of the room. As I stepped out into the hall I saw the the Mark of the Royal Sisters plastered on the wall with an anchor in the middle. Other than the lack of drawn on ‘ice’ the logo on the wall was a dead ringer for the one back at the cryo facility. We must’ve made it to the airship and I got dragged along while I was out. I hung a right and wandered down the hallway. The lights were all on and giving off that soft hum that one associates with fluorescent lighting. So even after two centuries under the snow the ship was still functional to some extent. As the hall opened up into the bridge I could see why no one was with me; both sides of the ship had monitor banks showing camera feeds from inside and outside the ship. The one off to the left was manned by Porter, who seemed rather distracted by some sort of book. “So we found the airship.” I observed aloud. Porter snapped out of his stupor and realized that he wasn’t alone. “Hey, you’re up!” “Yes I’m up.” I spat. “Now do you have a protein bar or something, because I feel like I’ve been-” I shut up when Porter fished out the familiar packaging of a chocolate bar and stuffed it in my hands. “Thanks.” I didn’t wait to eat the candy, tearing the package open with a flick of my wrist and dumping the broken pieces of chocolate straight into my open mouth. The chunks melted on contact with my tongue, going from a brittle solid to a smooth and gooey liquid that I was easily able to wash down with some water out of the canteen that Porter handed me. “You sure that you’re alright?” Porter asked. “Other than still feeling a bit hungry? Ya, I’d say I’m fine.” “OK then…” He muttered. “Is this where you tell me how long I was out?” I asked. Porter nodded. “You’ve been out cold for eighteen hours. Six of those were spent on the back of some hull plates we salvaged from the vertibuck’s wreckage.” “Makeshift sled… Sounds like I missed a lot of fun.” I mused. “Not really. Just a bunch of snow blowing around.” I nodded and looked around the bridge. All of the consoles were on and controls were lit. “I’m liking what I’m seeing.” I said as I started strolling from station to station. “So everything is working?” “Everything should be.” Porter answered. “Meteor was just up top trying to get the ice off the communications antenna.” I nodded as I found the captain’s chair and sat down. “What about Specter and Jericho? Where are they?” Porter looked a bit dejected at that question. “Porter?” “Missing, presumed dead.” He whispered. “They were gone after the vertibuck blew up and we haven’t seen a trace of them since.” “And we have no reason to believe we’ll find them.” I turned around in the chair and saw Gramps, covered in ice and snow, coming down from an access ladder through the top of the hull. “Jericho was already injured by one of the furies and we know that others were out there. Considering how those monsters behaved I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them were chewtoys by now.” I’d offer a more substantive retort, but on Gramp’s right arm was a rather familiar piece of technology. “You're the ass who took my pipbuck!” Gramps rolled his eyes. “Good to see you too.” “What would you have us do?” Porter asked “The location for the ship was on the only pipbuck between the three of us, and someone had to drag you around on a sled.” Well, Porter does have a point. I can’t do a good job of navigating when I was in a veritable coma. “Right… So the antenna?” “It should be up and running now.” Gramps replied as he plugged the pipbuck into one of the consoles flanking the captain’s chair. The screens flickered from black to green before staying on. The display listed a radio frequency with the word “broadcast” flashing in the bottom left corner. “Go ahead Dusk.” I flicked the switch on the armrest that said “mic” and cleared my throat. “This is Dusk calling Neighfair, please respond.” zzzztttt…. “I say again, this is Dusk calling Neighfair. Please respond.” “Neighfair here and reading you Dusk. Go ahead.” Well at least the radio is working… That's a plus. “We’ve located the picket ship. From what I can tell everything is working so we should be able to fly it back.” “Dusk, Kovac here. That’s excellent. Did you manage to locate the key for the cryo pods?” “Uh…” I shut the transmitter off and looked over at my two compatriots. “Porter, did you find it?” I asked. The stallion nodded and pulled the chained key out from under the collar of his armor. “Found it on the captain’s corpse.” “...And where is the captain?” “We buried him while you were out.” Gramps replied. I nodded and turned the receiver back on. “Confirmed, we’ve got the key. However we’re coming back less two.” “Why, what happened?” “We were attacked by snow furies. Jericho and Specter are missing, and I’m assuming they’re dead.” “Well I wouldn’t get your hopes up. How far are you from their last known position?” “I don’t know, a couple miles at least. Why?” “Because I have a way to at least track Specter. Stand by…” I shut off the receiver and frowned. From what I know about Specter the Division apparently thought he was dead years ago. But now I’m hearing they can track the kid? “Something doesn’t add up…” “What doesn’t?” Porter asked. “I see where you’re going with this.” Gramps muttered. “Specter was outside of Manehattan at that old Division bunker. So if they could track him why assume he was dead?” “Are you still there Dusk?” Kovac called out over the scratchy sounding speakers. With a deft flick of the switch the receiver lit back up once more. “I’m here.” “Alright, that airship should have a doppler program in the computers for tracking adverse weather patterns while out over open ocean. What you’ll need to do is change the scanning beam’s frequency from the standard setting to 40 kilohertz. There’s a crystal fragment under the skin in his arm that will react with the signal and give you a return so you locate him. We used that to find him whenever he went wandering around the valley outside the base when he was a child and got lost. But where our equipment had a seriously limited range because it was a cobbled together assortment of parts, you’ve got purpose built equipment at your disposal. If Specter is out there you’ll be able to find him.” Gramps was already over at one of the bridge consoles typing away as a map of the area appeared on one of the main bridge displays. “Alright, I’ve got the new frequency plugged into the emitter. We just need to get above the treetops so it can do its job.” “Thanks Kovac, we’ll see what we can do. Dusk out.” As the comms array shut down at the push of a button I began assessing what I knew about the Division. They have a full military bunker with tons of stored resources and equipment to maintain a small army. Yet they needed to cobble together a tracking system for when a kid got past their impressive array of defenses and got lost in the foothills that I presume are regularly patrolled. It doesn’t make any sense. With the shuddering of the deck and the rising hum of the fans outside I realized that Porter had hopped into the pilot's seat and was ripping the picket out of the icy plot of ground it had occupied for the better part of two hundred years. “Alright, so far so good.” He called out. “Engines, power core, enviromental systems… Everything is green across the board.” I glaced down at the small readout built into the captain’s chair. The elevation was just ticking past sixty feet as the picket started bobbing lightly from left to right. “Are you sure that everything is fine Porter?” “Absolutely. The stabilizers are just keeping us on the level in the wind.” Porter explained. “And what about the doppler?” I asked, directing the question to Gramps working at one of the consoles behind me. “Well I’ve already got something.” He said as a red blinking dot appeared on the map about five miles to the east of us. “According to some of the pre-war maps I’ve been looking at it looks like there was an unincorporated village that grew up around an intersection with some minor highway. I just can’t find a name for it…” “If that village had a name it's likely pointless now.” I retorted. “What makes you say that?” Porter asked, never turning away from his controls. “A name is something that gets applied to a location or a pony that has some sort of meaning to someone.” I said, thinking back to some lessons I learned when I was a colt. “I have yet to meet a pony who describes a bag of bones by the name of the pony who they once were.” Porter was quiet for a moment before he sighed. “I don’t get it.” “Think of the wasteland like a skeleton.” Gramps said as he walked up next to me. “What we see down there is the remains of the world that was wiped away by the bombs. The ponies that gave that land worth are all dead after their generation helped destroy it. Hence its worthless.” Porter seemed to be deep in thought before he flicked a switch and turned around to face the two of us. “So let me get this straight. Because the ponies that called it home are dead, any name that these old towns and villages once went by are pointless simply because the ponies that lived there are dead?” “I think that about sums it up.” I said. Porter didn’t say a word, instead opting to turn back to the helm. Gramps must have been staring at me because I started feeling a bit uneasy. “Is something wrong?” “Not at all.” Gramps said. “I’m just glad you still remember some of those ethics and philosophy lessons I gave you.” “Well there were those talks and you teaching me how to swing a sword without cutting my own head off.” I retorted. “Beyond that I don’t think your homeschooling included much else.” “Well there was the occasional bit on classical literature-” I cocked an eyebrow at that, thinking back to those lessons in particular. “I didn’t think that the books on military strategy you dug out of your closet from your time in the academy counted as ‘classical literature’.” I retorted, making a fair bit of a point with my decision to include air quotes. “Well… Alright, I see what you mean.” Gramps admitted. “But do you at least realize why I taught you those things?” Well that’s a rather stupid question… “Because you wanted a worthwhile way to continue serving your country?” “Exactly, and I wanted my family to be there with me.” “Then why didn’t you come back for me?” I asked. “I thought you were dead after that shitshow in the Badlands. If the Changelings were holding you Mom and Dad hostage, why not come back to make sure I’m OK after you got away?” Gramps knelt down next to me, obviously coming to the realization that standing over me wasn’t helping anything. “There were two reasons for that. The first was to make sure I didn’t lead any Changelings back to the factory in Manehattan and put you in danger. Ponies don’t just escape Changelings without repercussions, and you parents and I were dogged by drones up until Steeljack triggered the beacon spell I had in my pocket watch.” Well that’s fair enough… “You said there were two reasons.” “The other was De Witt.” Gramps admitted. “You know, the psycho that I told you earlier that you guys did a crappy job of killing?” My memories turned back to the villa just over the border with the Griffon Kingdom where we first found Dart and the other captive servants that were held there. “In our defense most living creatures don’t survive a bullet to the head.” “I know that, but De Witt isn’t most Griffons." Gramps said. "Hell, up until the Midlothian Ridge incident I considered him a friend.” Midlothian Ridge? I haven’t heard that one in a while. “You mean where the Griffon commander snapped your horn off?” Gramps nodded. “As a matter of fact he was that very commander who nearly killed me.” So let's review for a moment, shall we? In just under a minute I’ve found out that the Griffon that originally took off my Grandfather’s horn was at one point his friend. Almost six years ago now Steeljack and I ran into that very same Griffon who apparently survived getting shot in the head, and the family whom I thought had all died horrific deaths at the time were actively trying to deal with said Griffon while apparently being aware of my own activities to some extent. “Lets just stop right there with the new information for now, alright?” “I take it your head is spinning?” Gramps asked. “And yours wouldn’t be?” I snapped right back. Gramps shrugged. “No, I’d be in similar straights myself.” Well at least I don’t have to worry about more stuff getting dropped into my lap at an inopportune time… But I’ve got one glaring issue that needs to be addressed. “Can I at least ask you a question?” “Sure.” “How’d you know that it was me and Steeljack had tried to deal with De Witt?” Gramps chuckled. “Remember how Blueblood came to you, what was it, five years ago now? He offered you a blank check in return for acting as the strong arm of Royal Intelligence? Well believe me, I’ve known the colt a long time… All it took was a letter to Celestia and a dinner meeting between the three of us to make it happen. Not only that but I could ensure that you’d be safe at a time when I wouldn’t have been able to guarantee you that safety.” “That explains a lot…” I muttered. “Are you two done yet?” Porter called from the helm. I looked up at the map and realized we had quickly covered the few miles between the ship’s original resting place and Specter’s supposed location on the map. Assuming that the center of the map represented the location of the airship, we were already hovering right above Specter. “Well then… What’s down there?” Porter shrugged. “No idea.” So I’m potentially dropping down into a crowd of ravenous snow furies. That sounds like fun. “Can you at least cover me?” I asked. “Um…” Porter got up and hopped into the weapons control station off to his left. After fiddling with a joystick and flicking a few toggles he turned around and nodded. “The ventral machine gun is showing green and the turret camera is working. If I see anything down there I should be able to hit it.” “Dusk, aren’t you forgetting something?” Gramps asked. Am I? “Shit, we need to get down there…” “What about the cargo bay?” Porter asked. “There’s a crane in there for lifting loaded pallets into the hold. You could drop the line and rappel down, then I could pull you guys back up with it when you’re done.” “It’ll have to do.” Gramps said. “Dusk, you up for it?” It's almost like Gramps was presenting me with a choice, but I know him well enough to not expect to get that choice. Below us was a certain fight, but for what I still don’t know. Will we be trying to save our companions, or will we simply be fighting over scraps that were once ponies in an attempt to bring some closure to this excursion. “Dusk?” I finally decided I needed to answer the old stallion. “Damn right I’m up for it.” Now let's wrap this trip up and go home. Author's Note We're only one chapter away from wrapping this arc up and heading back to warmer climates south of the border. And in the mean time we've introduced some more facets to Dusk's rather cool relationship with his Grandfather. Assuming that people reading this took a glance at the first part of Broken Mirror, Meteor's return was met with Dusk snapping his arm in a fit of rage. While he now is in a position to ask some important questions as to why he was abandoned for so long that doesn't mean he'll immediately forgive his family. For the moment he'll have to put those hurt feelings aside to ensure that the efforts in the Wasteland don't go to waste. There's also that point about Kovac having an ability to track Specter. That there is the first bit of information that actually bugs Dusk. As we know from the epilogue to Part I and the prologue to Part II Kovac is no friend and has a sizable force of synths at his disposal. But in the context of the time where the Wasteland missions occurred, Dusk didn't realize that. This point on tracking Specter planted that initial seed of doubt and led Dusk and those around him (eventually including Specter, Jericho and a number of other Division members) to question Kovac's allegiances before discovering the truth at the eleventh hour during the final battle against the Enclave. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Define "All Right" (Interlude II)Archer Location Unknown As I began to realize that I was no longer seeing through Dusk’s eyes back at Neighfair, I started to feel more like… Well, me. I wasn’t stuck in the body of some other pony anymore, but I was back sitting on the stool in the mist-filled room. I looked around and noticed that I was alone with Dusk nowhere to be seen. “Hello?” In a flash of light Dusk reappeared with a new garb. Instead of the human-supplied armor he had worn he had gone down to cargo pants and a sleeveless top that looked like it was made of the same material as his armor’s undersuit. “Sorry, had to go take care of some errands.” He said. Well that’s an interesting point. “What sort of errands?” I asked. “You’re a ghost that’s in my head.” Dusk simply shrugged. “Oh you know, messing with reality and hiding away some tools. Oh and if anyone asks you where the new magnum and armor came from, don’t tell them shit.” “Wait, what armor?” With a snap of his fingers a black suit of some rather unusual looking armor formed out of the mist along with a silver pistol. “You’ll find a case under your bed back at the hotel. In it you’ll find this suit of combat armor and this pistol. The armor itself is a spare set of Marine combat armor that’s been in the store room for years. It’s form fitting, water resistant, and I made some tweaks to the helmet so it has a heads up display. If you take it apart you’ll find that the guts of a pipbuck are making it work.” I nodded and grabbed the floating pistol. “And what about this?” “That is a gunfighter variant of the Human-designed M6H. The smart-link module has been removed, leaving just the iron sights. That slide is a lot lighter now so you’ll find that the fire rate has picked up over the stock model. And without the hand guard there’s nothing for the armor’s gloves to snag on. With it you’ll find four loaded magazines with twelve rounds each, which should be enough for now.” I nodded and sighted the pistol like how I’d been shown by Dad countless times before. We had a few of the magnum pistols like this that I’d been taught to shoot with and even in this dream-like environment I could definitely tell that the pistol would be far lighter. “It’s a nifty little thing…” “It’s also the only pistol I’d carry if I were you.” Dusk advised. “That armor weighs just about ninety pounds, so anything else will just be dead weight.” As the armor and pistol dissolved back into the mist that they had been formed from I could only nod. “So no dragging around a rocket launcher… Got it.” Dusk smiled and proceeded to ruffle my mane. “That’a girl!” I grabbed Dusk’s arm and pushed him away from my now distressed hair. “What happens now?” I asked. “Well…” Dusk droned. “I think current me and your Dad are trying to get that hundred-pound barbell off you.” I didn’t even realize that the setting changed until I blinked the crust out of my eyes. I was staring up at a white panel ceiling as someone off to my right struggled to lift a heavy weight off me. “Come on, come on!” I heard my father mutter. “Move you piece of shit!” Dusk finally stepped into view, still wearing the undersuit that came with his human-designed armor. “Hey there Archer, what’cha doing?” I could only roll my eyes as my arms were pinned under the bar. “Oh the usual round of stupid shit.” I managed to turn my head off to the right and realized that my father was frantically getting nowhere as he struggled to get a grip on the weight itself. With a heave I managed to get the weight to roll down my chest and free my arms. With nothing else holding me down I managed to slide out from under the weight and get back to my feet… ...Only to immediately get caught in a choking bear hug by my frantic father. “Thank the Godess you’re alright!” By the time I realized that my feet were off the ground Dusk had decided to get involved and separated me from my father. “Cosmo, weren’t we talking about something earlier?” Almost immediately my father’s face changed from an expression of relief to a visage of absolute concern. “Right, we were.” “Mind telling me what’s so concerning?” I asked. My father and Dusk exchanged glances only for Dusk to sigh. “I think that the exposure to the memory orb has done something to you.” Well this will be a fun discussion… How do I tell them that a ghostly copy of Dusk came back from a future grave to help me stay sane as I still processed the orb’s memories? “Like what?” I asked, trying to look as confused as possible. “I don’t know.” Dusk replied. “But just in the few hours since you’ve been up I’ve already seen some changes. For instance you’ve stopped fidgeting when you’re standing around doing nothing.” A lack of fidgeting? That’s the big concern? “Alright… That’s it?” Dusk shook his head. “You’ve also developed the same smile that I’ve used when I know that something is up but want to make it look like nothing is going on.” “Which this genius keeps calling creepy.” My father added. “Dart, I’m worried about you. Are you sure that you’re all right?” I just shrugged, mostly in an effort to deflect any further questions. “I think so…” Dusk and my father exchanged looks once more before my father decided to make a move. “Maybe I should take her home. It’s already been a crazy night-” “But what about the synths?” I asked. “We’ve still got to do something about them.” Dusk furrowed his brow at that. “You may be right Archer, and I have no issues with you helping us. But you’ve had the definition of a wild night. Maybe some rest will do you some good.” Well I can’t argue with that… Tonight started with a simple party so Dusk could get engaged, but instead turned into a massive clusterfuck. “Well all my stuff is back at the hotel…” “I’ll have one of the troopers give you a ride.” Dusk replied as his expression softened. “Does that work for you Cosmo?” Cosmo nodded. “As long as I can tag along with my girl.” “What?” I asked, the confusion now setting in. “You’re a target now Archer.” Dad pointed out. “I wouldn’t be doing my job as a parent if I didn’t make sure that you were safe.” *** Half an Hour Later, Canterlot Royale Hotel I didn’t wait for Dad as I flung the door to my hotel room open. Hell, I knew that he was behind me but I didn’t really care. At this point I need to prove to him that I’m equipped to protect myself, and I know just the tool to use. Dad shut the door behind the two of us as we walked into my suite and I could tell just from the tense atmosphere that he was thinking about something. “You weren’t entirely honest with us back there.” He said. Well I could probably attribute this to his uncanny ‘dad-sense’. “You’re right.” I said as I got down under the bed. Right before my eyes was a large black hardcase, I pulled it out and tossed it onto the bed. Dusk certainly wasn’t kidding, that armor is definitely heavy. “Uh, what’s that?” Dad asked. He was standing next to me as I undid the latches and swung the case open. Sitting on top was the gold-visored helmet that capped off the armor, four loaded magazines and the pistol that the Ghost-Dusk had promised. “It’s a full set of Marine combat armor and a gunfighter magnum.” I replied as I picked up the pistol. Yup, still just as shiney as in the dreamscape. “And just where did you get this stuff?” Dad asked. I turned around and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll tell you on one condition.” Dad pulled up the chair that was next to my nightstand and plopped himself down. “Name it.” I took a deep breath and steeled myself for a potential backlash. “What I tell you stays between you and me, no one else.” But there was no argument. Dad simply nodded. “If it means I figure out what I can do to help you, then you’ve got a deal.” Alright… That was easy. “I’m still going though the memories that I picked up from that orb. I’ve already gone through Neighfair and the Northern Wastes salvage mission. The only reason I’m still sane is because there’s a little Ghost-Dusk from the future that’s throttling everything back so I don’t get overwhelmed, and he can apparently manipulate reality because while I was out after that barbell dropped on me he said that this case of equipment would be here. And to top it all off you probably think that I’m absolutely insane and I’ll end up like the orb’s test dummy!” Wow… That was a lot. But instead of the abject horror that I’d expect Dad to be exhibiting he instead looked worried. “Dad?” “And I thought that I’ve seen some crazy shit in my day…” He muttered. “So where did this ‘Ghost-Dusk’ come from?” “He said something about getting blown up between universes.” I said. At that Dad started to look more worried. “Is there something I should know?” “Kovac wanted Dusk to escort him to Canterlot with a live Havoc nuke…” Dad muttered. “This ghost, did it say anything about the Nexus?” “Nexus?” I asked, the word not ringing any bells. “I’ll take that as a no then.” Dad sat back and seemed to put something together in his mind. “He must want to do something with the Nexus… And eventually did something. That’s the only thing that could tie everything together.” “But what’s the Nexus?” I asked. “The Nexus is a concentration of energy situated beneath Canterlot Castle.” Dad explained. “Other than having amazing healing properties it’s a bridge between different universes. As Celestia put it, the Nexus only exists because it's a point of intersection between universes. If a future Dusk passed through that portal and something happened in that void… Who knows what could happen, but from what I can see that’s a distinct possible explanation as to that extra voice in the back of your head.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t work that way dad.” “Oh really?” “Really.” I insisted. “I have to either be sleeping or unconscious to be able to interact with him.” “Hmm… So it’s a dream state.” Dad muttered. “I’ve got an idea.” I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. “Mind telling me what you’re planning?” As Dad’s horn lit up he simply smirked. “I’m thinking that some dream walking is in order.” *** Location Unknown… Well now I’m back in that mist-filled room. But I’m not alone this time. Standing next to me, in the old Desert Ranger outfit that is in his armory display case, was Dad. “Since when did you learn dream magic?” I asked. “Luna taught me and your mother the tricks as our wedding gift.” Dad explained. “She was concerned with your constant nightmares at the time and thought that the parental touch might produce better results.” “Did they?” Dad nodded. “Although I’ve got to admit, your nightmares were all sorts of messed up.” “Hey, what the hell?” The ‘Ghost-Dusk’ exclaimed as he materialized. “How the hell did you bring a passenger?” “Dreamwalking.” That was all that Dad had to say to get Dusk to deadpan. “Right… Luna’s wedding gift. I take it that Archer told you what was going on and you thought that she was crazy?” Dad shook his head. “I never thought for a moment that Archer was crazy. But I needed to confirm something.” His horn flashed, but nothing happened. “Well that confirms it… You’re the real deal.” “A dream check?” Dusk muttered. “Alright I’ll hand it to you, that’s a clever way to make sure I’m real.” “I’m glad you thought so.” Dad admitted. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, what’s on the docket for tonight?” “Huh?” “What?” Dusk and I must have been wearing the same looks because Dad was simply wearing a shit-eating grin. “Well you’ve covered Neighfair and the salvage mission. What happened after that? You’re showing Archer all this stuff for a reason, so why quit if I’m here?” Well Dad has a point. “What did happen after you found the picket?” I asked. “The Enclave launched a counterattack against Chicacolt.” Dusk immediately rattled off. “But you both can tell there was more to it…” “That goes without saying.” Dad pointed out. “So how does this whole thing work?” “Well you’ll be a spectator to the memories, while Dart will see everything from my perspective.” Ghost-Dusk explained. “After they run their course we’ll end up back here.” Dad offered a curt nod. “Sounds simple enough.” Dusk offered a simple grin as my vision began to fade to black. “Believe me Cosmo, what you’ll see is far from simple.” Author's Note And there goes the second Interlude gents!. For now I'm off to the editing role and working on E-201. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Chaos (Arc III)Neighfair Three Days after Northern Wasteland debriefing Since our meeting with Kovac I’ve otherwise avoided the stallion. I’m not entirely sure what to think at this point, but after a day I brought Gramps up to speed on what as discussed, as he was otherwise occupied when the debriefing took place. While he agreed with what we decided, he did stress that we can’t jump to further conclusions until Kovac gives us more reason to doubt him. Simply put we sit back and observe. And when not working with Porter’s Marines, that's exactly what I did. I watched, I listened, and I assessed. It was textbook covert recon. But that couldn't have been kept up forever, as Kovac decided to pay us a visit this morning. Apparently he had made an agreement to assign patrols to aide the ponies at Theater secure their territory for the duration of our stay in the Chicacolt area a payment for their aid in taking Filly’s Pier. And as he saw things everyone should contribute, himself being included with the first patrol that was sent during my absence. And now my team is walking into the same settlement that we first started out from a number of days ago on our march to Neighfair. But this time we were far better equipped. We had a handle on the territory and there had been no reports of Enclave or raider activity since Neighfair had been brought under our sphere of influence. I did get some looks from locals as we walked through the front doors. With my leather armor otherwise unrepairable I had procured one of the spare sets of combat armor that the Marines had brought with them from their bunker… And it was that unusual shape that was likely getting me most of the confused stares. I ignored them, continuing our march to Patch’s office. When I took a look through the open door her chair was turned away from us. “Come in.” Patch called out. The six of us walked in, and Patch spun around to face us. “So you’re this week’s contribution to the patrols?” I nodded. “From what I’m told they got going while I was gone.” “They did.” The green mare replied. “But do you know why I asked for them?” “Extra security, considering we haven’t done much for the power balance around here.” I offered. Patch nodded. “Glad we’re on the same-” At that moment Patch’s radio chirped. She picked it up and clicked it on. “Go ahead Lilith.” “Has that patrol showed up yet?” Patch simply tossed me the radio. “We’re here now.” I replied. “Good.” Lilith replied. “Meet me out front, we’ve got something to go check out. I’ll tell you more when you get here.” “Then we’ll see you in a few.” I said, handing the radio back to Patch. Walking past the same locals, the looks were still there but they seemed to fade once they noticed that we were leaving the building. Once we walked back out into the Wasteland sun, we found Lilith sitting on a chunk of concrete in the middle of what was once a street. “Glad you all decided to join me.” “Just tell me what we’re doing out here.” I said, rolling my eyes. Watching as Lilith fished out something from a pouch on her combat armor, she handed me a black piece of metal. “What do you think that is?” I rolled around the chunk in my hands and shrugged. “Broken piece of some sort of armor, I think.” “You’re right on.” Lilith replied. “But who wears black armor?” An image of an enclave soldier wearing a hulking suit of power armor flashed across my mind. “West Wind’s soldiers are in Chicacolt?” Lilith nodded. “There have been some hits on our outposts in the city over the last few days. We only managed to get a good look at the attackers early this morning.” “Then where’d you get the piece of armor?” Steeljack asked, having taken a seat on the steps. “Just how do you think I figured out that it’s the Enclave we’re dealing with?” Lilith retorted. “Fair point…” Steeljack replied. I handed the chunk of armor back to Lilith. “Where’d you find them?” “About an hour walk that way.” Lilith said, pointing off down the street that led deeper into the ruined city. “I did run them off though, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to catch up.” “So they ran?” That right there doesn’t sound like an expected Enclave move. “Did you have a small army with you or something?” “No, not at all.” Lilith replied. At that point I heard something hit the ground and bounce off my boot. I looked down and saw a drab green ball with a rectangular protrusion out of the side of it. “Oh shit.” I felt my magic flare as I blew everyone off their feets and away from the device, before inverting a shield around the object. BANG! I felt the shield I made shatter and I was knocked back onto the stairs by the blast of what was clearly a grenade. I shook off the cobwebs and smacked my ears, the ringing dying down with each hit.”Is everyone alright?” “We’re not dead.” I heard Dart groan as she hauled herself to her feet. “Did anyone see who threw that?” I got to my feet, pulling Steeljack up with me. “Can’t say that I did.” Comet and Strike were already on their feet with weapons raised. “ Movement. Storefront across the street, second floor.” Comet called out. “I see it.” Strike replied. The two stallions pulled the triggers on their submachine guns, and nine millimeter rounds started flying out and smacking against concrete and broken bricks that clad the outer walls of the ruin across from us. At that point I saw some sort of glint through a broken window. It took another moment, but I realized what was looking at us. “Sni-” BANG! I felt a splatter against the side of my face, followed by Steeljack steadying himself against me. I looked over, and saw a red gash running down the side of his head, blood pouring from the wound. “Oh shit…” I managed to catch Steeljack in time to keep him from hitting his wounded head on the stairs. I ran my fingers and felt a sigh of relief pass my lips as I realized that Steeljack had only suffered a grazing wound. “I need some bandages!” Steeljack pulled a rag out and pressed it hard against the gash. “Did anyone catch that license plate?” He muttered. I tore the rag from Steejack’s hands, tearing it into two strips which I tied tight around his head. “Nope, looks like a hit and run.” I replied as the white rag began to turn a wet and light red. Three ponies rushed out the door of the settlement, two of whom started shooting immediately. Patch was the third, kneeling down next to Steeljack immediately once she realized what had happened. “Shit… What happened?” “Near miss from a sniper round.” I said. BANG! “Agh!” I heard someone shout. I whipped my head around just in time to watch my grandfather crash to the broken pavement in an undignified heap a few feet from the base of Theater’s steps. “Gramps!” Dart slid along side the old stallion and hoisted him up on her shoulder. “Everyone inside!” She yelled as she dragged the General up the stairs and into the building.Patch dragged Steeljack to his feet and followed the other green mare’s lead. I looked around the battlefield as I got to my feet. I hoisted my shotgun to my shoulder before lowering the weapon. Buckshot won’t do me any good at this range. “Comet, Strike. Fall back!” I yelled. “Got it boss!” Strike yelled as he backpedalled past me up the stairs, firing the whole way. I turned around and ran up the stairs and back inside. Comet passed me while Lilith stopped at a handle at the far side of the interior. “Someone give me a hand with the shutters!” She yelled. Dart ran forward, getting the handle on the right of the entrance and started pulling, revealing the dented and rusty armored shutter to daylight. As she and Lilith were just about to close the shutter completely there was some sort of flash that blinded me. By the time that the effect had worn off the shutter had been completely closed… But I could make out the distinct smell of burnt fur and flesh. As two medics rushed forward I saw Dart lying on the floor… Her face blackened and smoldering. That's when it hit me. That flash wasn't a bright light, it was a fireball. And Dart was on the receiving end. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to move from where I stood. I was too entranced by the scene playing out before me. There was only one logical explanation as to my hesitation, and it became even clearer as Dart was rolled onto a stretcher. For the first time in a long time I felt pure unadulterated fear. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. *** One Hour Later… “They’ll recover.” The Doctor’s words ran though my head since he said them to me half an hour ago.Out of all of our wounded Steeljack was the luckiest, as his gash was tied closed with a number of stitches. Gramps had suffered a bullet wound to his left thigh, the sniper round having cut right through his armor. They would likely be out of the infirmary within the next day or so. Dart wasn’t so lucky… Her face had suffered significant damage from what apparently was a thermobaric rocket that hit the shutter just as it closed. Her hair and fur had been torched off instantly, and the outer layer of her skin had suffered extensive third degree burns. The doctors had applied a burn cream before wrapping her entire head with gauze. Even with that Dart had to be sedated due to the immense injuries that she had suffered. It was either keep her unconscious or let her agonize from her wounds. While he assured me that Dart would live, I couldn’t rightly believe him as I sat over the mare. “Dusk?” I turned around in my chair and saw Patch standing in the doorway to Dart’s room. “Can I borrow you for a few?” I glanced down at Dart, before getting up and trudging out to deal with Theater’s leader. I quietly closed the door and sighed. “What do you want Patch?” “To help me deal with Comet.” She said, motioning for me to follow as she walked off down the hall. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Just what did he do now?” “He’s been questioning the security staff.” Patch explained. “Specifically the crew that was on duty when Lilith ran into the Enclave this morning.” “Sounds like he’s trying to understand what happened to Lilith before we showed up.” I observed. “What’s the problem with that?” As we rounded the corner into the lobby, I saw Patch shake her head. “He’s been interrogating them. The stallion that was on the comms already had his nose broken. I’ll give you three guesses as to who threw the punch.” Now that’s a problem, and a bit out of character for what I remember of Comet. “You said he was interrogating the crew that was working this morning. Has he said anything to Lilith yet?” “It’s just a matter of time until he does.” Patch replied. As we reached the door labeled security, she pushed it open and led me inside. Compared to the rest of the settlement, the security office was clean and orderly, a clear sign that the staff took care of what they had. In the center of the room was a conference table. Lilith was seated at one end, while Comet was at the other. Strike was pacing around behind Comet, likely concerned that he would do something else rash. Yet for a stallion that had apparently decked one of Theater’s guards Comet looked cold and impassive as he read something on the clipboard that he was holding. “You and your ponies are pathetic. Did you know that Lilith?” Comet said as he placed the clipboard down on the table. Lilith looked offended. “You want to run that by-” “Shut up!” Comet roared, his expression turning to pure fury before returning to that same cold expression that he was wearing when we walked in the door. “Lets run down the evidence, shall we? You used unsecured communications channels this morning after encountering the Enclave force. You then received information as to Blaze Squad’s imminent arrival over that same frequency. And who attacked us shortly after arrival? The Enclave, likely the same team that you claim to have ‘run off’. Do you see what I’m getting at?” Lilith shook her head. “How about you enlighten me?” Comet cracked what looked like a smirk as he leaned forward. “The Enclave picked up your transmission. In essence your communications confirmed to their leaders that we had pursued them here. In response that team was dispatched to either cripple or eliminate our team, and you lead them right to us. And judging by their equipment and tactics it is clear to me that we’re dealing with a Pathfinder unit. So congratulations Lilith, you may have helped doom this mission to failure.” “Well I’m sorry, but fuck you!” Lilith yelled. “I was responding to a threat as I saw-” “And your response lead to us getting fucked over.” Comet snapped as he rocketed up out of his chair. “So what are you going to do about it?” I may be a bit naive, but now might be a good time to step in and prevent a fist fight. “We’ll do what we always do Strike.” I said as I stepped over to the side of the table. “We’ll improvise, we’ll adapt, and we’ll survive.” Strike seemed to calm down, but shook his head. “Dusk, these are Pathfinders were talking about. I’m sorry but we just can’t handle them at reduced strength. And if they’re here, I suspect that an Enclave battle group isn’t far behind them.” “Enclave battle group?” Patch asked. “So you think that we’re staring down an assault?” “I know we’re staring down an assault.” Comet retorted. “We were pursued by a Pathfinder team in Hoofington years ago, right after we sent Cosmo and Sky through the portal to our world. They kept us off balance, and a battle group showed up a few days later. They sent a small army after myself and Strike, just for the purpose of capturing us. If they did that then why wouldn't they make a stronger response knowing that the special forces team that has fought them at every turn of our war was not only present in the area, but is clearly assembling an army? I’m sorry Miss Patch, but the Enclave are going to come down on this city like a hammer on a nail.” “He’s probably onto something…” I admitted. “We need to get word to Neighfair, tell Kovac what we’ve run into. If the Enclave really is coming, we need to be ready.” “I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting him.” Comet said. “Vertibucks are deploying teams to surviving highrises across the city. With luck we’ll see them coming.” Suddenly the stallion’s radio chirped. “Looks like our ride is here…” “What ride?” Patch asked. Comet and Strike both ignored the green mare and walked out into the lobby. “I should follow them.” I observed, turning and following my old friends out into the lobby. I managed to get out in time to see them pass through the narrow gap in the armored shutters, held open by security officers. As I got closer I could hear a distinct and familiar hum, and it only got louder the closer I got to the exit. “They better not have done what I think they just did…” But my concerns were only validated as I stepped outside into the shadow of the hulking grey airship that had come low enough to use the makeshift elevator that had aided our escape from the snow furies only a few days prior. And both Comet and Strike were standing on that platform staring at me. “Are you coming or what?” Strike yelled over the din of the turbines. While I’ve got a bad feeling about this, why bother asking when you know what the answer will be? *** As the makeshift elevator came to a stop in the cargo bay I got the first real look at the changes that had been made since I was last aboard. For starters, all of the clutter had been removed and the walls had been painted a soft blue. Light bulbs had been replaced, fully illuminating all corners of the old airship. And the cargo bay had found a new purpose as a passenger compartment, with makeshift benches taking up the space once occupied by crates. Porter’s marines had definitely made good use of the past few days if appearances were to be a judge. As I followed Comet and Strike down the hall and onto the bridge, more changes were revealed. For starters the Captain’s chair had been jacked up on a pedestal to give whoever sat in it the ability to see everything happening on the bridge simply by turning his or her head. The floor had been scrubbed down, and slick shine of silver plates once more graced the interior. But most impressive of all was the windows that lined the front of the craft. No longer were they crusty and clouded with caked on dust, but they were as crystal clear as the day that they had been made. And considering the environment, that’s an accomplishment to be commended. “Welcome aboard E-201!” Porter said as he walked onto the bridge behind us. “What do you all think?” Comet glanced at Strike before turning to face the marine commander. “It’s adequate for my purposes.” “What purposes?” I asked. “Going down in flames against a Raptor?” Porter looked perplexed. “Do you even know why we’re here?” “He doesn’t.” Comet replied, strolling over and hopping up into the Captain’s chair. “Helm, bring us up to 100 feet elevation and set heading to 185.” “185…” I muttered. If I remember my naval doctrine correctly, that’s going to point us south out of the city. “Comet, now would be a good time to bring me up to speed. What are you planning?” As the airship shuddered upwards, Strike turned to face the outside world. “Strike and I did more than simply recruit Cosmo and his associate. We made some friends during our travels, and they all owe me a few favors. We’re simply going to go collect on them.” Author's Note That was a quick way to kick off the ark, wasn't it? And now we're setting up the change in Dart's hairstyle... Which we'll see more of soon. Like in this piece that Pabloracer did for me; But now we journey south to the Badlands to gather some reinforcements. The next chapter will be short but will introduce our cavalry and the plan that Comet is cooking up. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Favors (Arc III)Five Hours Later… While I still don’t know why we were over the Badlands, I took notice once I heard the engines start to spool down and felt the picket shudder as it slowly descended to the earth below. For most of the trip I had secluded myself in the Captain’s cabin, using the time to organize my thoughts. A short walk out onto the bridge and I saw that we were landing just outside of some sort of farm. “Where are we?” I asked. “A few miles south of what used to be Las Pegasus.” Comet replied as he got up from the Captain’s chair. “Remember that Cosmo used to be a member of the Desert Rangers?” I nodded. “Ya, he left when he was young and headed north with Sky.” As a wry grin developed on Comet’s face, he nodded for no apparent reason. “Well as it happens Strike and I just so happen to be friends with them.” I followed Comet down the hall to the cargo bay, where a ramp had dropped on either side leading to solid ground below us. “So these Desert Rangers, they’re the ones who owe you the favor?” Comet nodded. “To be honest Dusk, Strike and I didn’t spend a full two years in Enclave captivity. We managed to escape after about a week and took shelter with these Rangers.” Strike joined us once Comet and I reached solid ground. “Then how were you two aboard that Raptor?” I asked. “Did you think the two of us wouldn’t jump at the chance to try and get back home?” Comet asked. “When we caught wind of the Enclave’s operation… Look, long story short Strike and I boarded the ship and allowed ourselves to be captured. You found us about a day later.” As I mulled over Comet’s words, two ponies stepped out of the farmhouse ahead of us. Both wore gear that was identical to both Comet and Strike. As we got closer I noticed that the pair were definitely older, looking to be middle-aged. “Is that you Comet?” The stallion called out. Even off to the side I could tell that Comet’s expression had turned to one of pure glee. Every time I’ve been around him since I came back he still wore that same neutral expression… “Damn right it is Rune!” Comet replied as he walked up and wrapped the stallion, clearly a pegasus, in a bear hug. “We did it Rune, we actually got home.” Even Strike looked happy, reaching out and shaking the mare’s hand. “A pleasure as always Miss Sunny.” The older mare smiled in return. “Still as charming as ever Strike…” The mare stopped when she saw me and nudged the stallion next to her. “Rune, is that who I think it is?” ‘Rune’ finally noticed me, but retained that same grin as he let go of Comet and stepped forward. “You must be Dusk.” I nodded. “I am… And you two are friends of Comet and Strike?” “What Ranger wouldn’t call them friends?” Rune asked. “These two helped solve our food supply problem. Without them we all would’ve starved!" Comet tapped Rune on the shoulder, his smile slowly fading back to his regular expression. “Exactly… Which is why I’m here.” Rune and Sunny must’ve realized what Comet meant as both their smiles turned to something far more serious. “So then you managed to keep up your end of the bargain?” Rune asked. Comet nodded and fished a photograph out of his jacket, handing it to the other stallion. “I thought she was dead for a while, but lucky for me your daughter doesn’t know how to be discrete.” Daughter? What daughter? That question swirled through my mind as we walked inside and took a seat at a dilapidated kitchen table. Sunny was the last to join us, having gone to a radio on the counter and sent out a message to all corners of the desert. “So where is Sky now?” Sunny asked as she sat down. I finally put the pieces together. We originally recruited two former Rangers, Cosmo and Sky. But Sky was buried outside of Vanhoover… At least so I thought. “Sky’s alive?” I asked. Comet looked confused for a moment before he realized that I really didn’t know what he was talking about. “Yes, she is.” He replied. “King Sombra found her bouncing around from club to club about four years ago. I only figured out who she really was after I ran into her during the attack on Baltimare about two years ago.” “King Sombra?” Rune asked. “You mean the same one from the history books?” Comet nodded. “Yes, the same king. I guess he was under some sort of influence that Princess Celestia managed to help break.” “Can we back up for a minute?” I asked. Comet nodded. “Sure, what’s wrong?” “You said that Sky has been tagging along with Sombra for four years… What has she been doing?” “Body guard duty if the intelligence reports are anything to go off of.” Comet said. “But up until Baltimare, every known sighting of her with Sombra indicated that she was in full gear. Hell, the intel wing thought that it was Cosmo running around with him at first.” I sat back and nodded. “Then what made them realize that it was someone different that they were dealing with?” “Because one of the analysts realized that Cosmo had been in a completely different part of the country when one of the reports came in.” Comet explained. “After that the ponies tailing Sombra kept trying to identify his ‘ranger’ with little success.” “You said that you found out it was Sky in Baltimare…” I muttered. “How’d you figure it out?” “One of the Enclave raiders got the jump on her. I picked up on the distress beacon that she triggered and showed up in time to see her helmet get knocked off her head. Long story short Strike and I tag-teamed the raider, then Sombra showed up to save Sky’s ass. She did ask about Cosmo, but all I could tell her is that he was still out there… I guess she had been trying to find him in her spare time, but Cosmo just was too good at covering his tracks.” Rune got up and grabbed a silver flask off the shelf from behind him. “That’s all I needed to know.” He said as he sat back down and uncapped the flask. He took a quick swig and passed it to Comet. “You kept up your end of the deal, so we’ll keep up ours. Even if the others hang back, Sunny and I will help you deal with the Enclave.” “Thank you Rune.” Comet said before taking a swig from the flask. “So while I was gone were any of you able to dig up more on the Pathfinder project, or did that info get handed off to Applejack's Rangers as you intended?” “Last I checked our power-armored friends were investigating, but we haven’t had time to go north and see what sort of progress they’ve made.” Rune replied. “We’ve been otherwise occupied with another project.” “You mean that Raptor?” Strike asked. “What are you doing, stripping it for parts?” “On the contrary, the others just finished repairing the drive systems yesterday.” Sunny added. “It was a pain in the flank scrounging some of those wrecks for parts, but we did it.” Suddenly my radio chirped to life. “Porter to Dusk, we’ve got a contact coming in from the southeast. It’s a raptor!” “Tell your pilot that he can calm down.” Rune ordered. “That would be our associates coming to join us.” I flicked the radio and sighed. “Take it easy Porter. I’m being told that they’re friendly.” As a shadow cast outside and the hum of turbines finally made themselves known, followed by the sounds of metal groaning under immense weight I couldn’t help but sigh. “I really hope this’ll be worth it…” I muttered. *** Where E-201 was clean and tidy after Porter’s crew had worked their magic, this old raptor was easily the polar opposite. It was dirty, light fixtures were broken and the walls were marred with patches of rust. As Rune explained, the Desert Rangers had discovered group of crashed Raptors some time after his daughter and Cosmo journeyed north. Only after Comet and Strike had allowed their recapture had the loose group of ponies decided to get the lead Raptor back in working condition, as it was still relatively intact. Salvaging parts from the hulks of the two others from the long-abandoned squadron, the Desert Rangers have in three years taken an abandoned relic of the past and managed to turn it into a working airship, although one could readily admit that the old craft had certainly seen better days. Yet as we stood on the bridge with Porter, Rune and the rest of the Desert Rangers I got the impression that most of the ponies gathered didn’t care about that final detail. They actually seemed jubilant, having conquered time and decay itself and managing to restore the cloud cell that allowed the Raptor to fly. Both feats were certainly admirable, and were rendered as even more impressive when the limited technical expertise of these ponies was considered as a factor. But of all the Raptors that I had been aboard, this one was different. Being a squadron leader, this one ship had an advanced holographic mapping system. While I couldn’t tell how it worked, it definitely worked as it was designed. “Strike, are you almost ready?” Comet asked. The flightless pegasus crawled out from under the map table and flashed a thumbs-up. “Whenever you’re ready Comet.” The earth pony nodded and punched up the map of Chicacolt. “Fillies and Gentlecolts, you all know why I’ve returned.” He said. “The Enclave… In my world we managed to drive them back, but they’re still a threat. My friend Dusk here has been helping gather allies to combat them, which is why I stand before you all once more. As I speak an Enclave battlegroup is headed for the ruins of Chicacolt to launch a counterattack.” He punched a few keys and the map zoomed out, showing a group of seven red dots slowly moving towards the city from the west of the city. “As I speak a battlegroup centered around one of the last remaining Thunderheads is en-route to the city and will be there inside of a day.” “So you know this for a fact?” I asked. Comet nodded. “This old Raptor still has working access codes to the Enclave network. According to the dispatches they’ve assembled a group around the Victorious. If that ship reaches Vanhoover we won’t stand a chance.” “So what are you thinking?” One of the Rangers asked. “We eliminate Victorious from the equation.” Comet explained. “Using E-201 we’ll deploy a boarding party to the Victorious. We have two objectives, the primary one being to eliminate that ship. To do that we’ll blow the main reactor with demolition charges. But while we’re doing that, the second team will storm the auxiliary command center and take control of Victorious’ weapons array. Until that reactor is ready to go, the second team will turn the guns against the Raptors and do as much damage as they can. Once the reactor is ready to go we’ll extract via E-201 and break off the engagement.” I’ll admit, it’s a simple plan that if properly executed will go a long ways to dealing with the Enclave threat. “But how are we going to survive getting close enough to that Thunderhead?” I asked. That’s when Strike smirked. “We’ve got a present that’ll fix that.” He fished out two golden metal disks from his jacket pocket and placed them on the table. “I found these when I was going through the cargo containers that we pulled off of E-201.” I looked at the disks and noticed a purple sigel of a shield carved into the center of both. “Strike… Would you care to share with the rest of the class?” I chided. The pegasus nodded and handed one of the disks to Rune. “These are shield talismans. According to the Captain’s old logbook, they discovered these in a destroyed MAS lab outside of Manehattan. They just never had a use for them so they were never installed.” “It could work…” Rune admitted. “How long will it take to get them installed on both ships?” Strike shrugged. “At least four hours to get both installed and tied into the control consoles. It’ll take us the better part of a day to get back to Chicacolt, so we could probably install and test them while en route.” Rune nodded. “Well I know where I stand…” He turned to face the rest of the Rangers and shrugged. “Who else is in?” At first I thought that the other Rangers thought that this idea was too crazy to work… But one by one ponies stepped forward and found open bridge stations to go to work at. There was finally one younger stallion left who just shook his head. “Unless I’m mistaken there isn’t any more chairs.” He said. “Does that mean that you’re out?” Rune asked. “Hell no!” The stallion replied. “Just show me where to stand Rune, if everyone else is going I’m sure as hell not going to sit on my ass.” As Rune walked towards the helm with the stallion I noticed an expression on Comet’s face. It wasn’t neutrality or anger… No, this was something I hadn’t seen since we were kids. Comet didn’t look like that same reserved stallion that I had flown down here with. This was Comet, proud and ready to take on the world with a gusto I hadn’t seen in a long time. And you know what? That actually makes me feel a hell of a lot better. Author's Note Well that was simple and straight forward... And set up another side story for whenever I get around to it. I've put some thought into what Comet and Strike did before the events of Part I, and I think this could make a good segway for whenever I eventually write that story. Next time, Blaze Squad the Rangers take the Victorious! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Victorious? (Arc III)Chicacolt Outskirts, aboard E-201 Five Hours Later… The sun was already setting below the horizon by the time we could see the monolithic ruins of Chicacolt once more. In the orange glow of the evening sun I couldn’t help but think for a moment that the city was burning… “Sir, we’ve got contacts due northwest.” The helm officer called out. “One large cloudship and six escorts.” “That would be our battlegroup.” Comet replied as he flicked the comms switch on the arm of his chair. “Rune, we’re coming up on those Enclave ships. Is your crew ready?” “Ready as we’ll ever be.” Rune’s voice crackled out over the radio. “At least we’re on the same page…” I heard Porter mutter from the weapons control station. Comet pressed a few buttons on his armrest and sat back. “Second Division, this is E-201. We’re coming back on station, what’s your status?” We didn’t get a response, not even static over the radio. “Second Division, please respond.” zzztttt… “E-201, this is Radiant Star. No one has been able to raise the Second Division or the Marines for the better part of the last hour and there’s Enclave soldiers advancing on Theater, and I'm cut off in the north end of the city.” “Shit…” I heard Comet groan. “Rune, change of plans for now. We’re diverting to the settlement of Theater to assist the locals.” “But what about that Thunderhead?” Rune asked. “It can wait until we get the situation at Theater under control.” Comet replied. “Now follow us in and keep us covered!” I saw Comet get out of the chair and wave to both Strike and myself. As we walked back to the cargo bay I could tell that Comet seemed frustrated. “You’re doing the right thing.” I said, trying to reassure my friend. “I know we are Dusk.” Comet replied. “But this is a diversion. The longer we spend at Theater the more time the Enclave has to deploy their resources. All this does is make it exponentially harder to get the Enclave out of Chicacolt.” As we stepped onto the ‘elevator’ a thought crossed my mind. “What if it was exponentially harder for the Enclave to take Theater?” The platform shuddered and slowly began to descend out of the belly of the picket. “And just how do you propose we do that? Find a friendly drag-” Comet stopped once he said those fateful words and saw the smile on my face. “We can call Spike.” “Great minds must think alike, eh?” I said, nudging my companion’s arm. Comet nodded. “It could work… What do we need to do?” “When we met I did give him one of our radios.” I admitted. “If we can send him a message on our frequency, he might hear it.” “That’s assuming we can send a signal far enough for him to pick it up.” Strike added. “We’re almost a hundred miles from his cave, and I seriously doubt that your Pipbuck has the needed broadcast range.” The elevator shuddered to stop as the platform touched down in the street outside of Theater. “Lucky for us our friends do.” I retorted. Comet tapped Strike’s shoulder and pointed at the front door. “Go see what you can do.” Strike nodded and marched off, while Comet and I turned and started walking down the street. “What can you tell me about these Pathfinders?” I asked. “They’re a type of commando unit” Comet replied. “They’re trained to be self-sufficient while in the field. They mainly act as scouts for Enclave assault groups, identifying strategic targets and eliminating individuals who may prove to be a threat.” “So they’re hit squads by another name.” I muttered in response. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Comet nod curtly. “If they’re in Chicacolt I can safely argue that the Enclave is playing for keeps. At bare minimum they’re aiming to eliminate the threat that we pose to their operations just by being here.” “Bare minimum?” I asked, sticking the content of Comet’s statement. “Do you think they’re here to do something else?” “Honestly? Probably kill as many locals as possible.” Comet said with a shrug. “This is essentially a power move… The best way to scare others from messing with you is by leaving a massive body count behind.” I grabbed Comet’s shoulder and forced him to stop. “Do you honestly believe that?” Comet shrugged in response. “Dusk, we’re talking about a militaristic power in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. The only thing here that ponies respond to is strength. You and I may not agree with it, but hundreds of dead bodies sends a message to anyone who understands the concept of strength.” Off in the distance I could hear the pops of rifle fire echo off the ruins. While I tried to focus on the noise and started walking again, my mind kept drifting back to strength. Strength can be interpreted in many different ways, and it's definitely clear to me that leaving a massive number of casualties in your wake can be interpreted as a show of that same strength. But what’s the point to it? Killing innocent ponies isn’t going to scare the lot of us off. If anything we’re sick of the Enclave making victims of innocents, which I’d argue is why we’re here. If anything an attempt at some form of genocide is going to piss off at least me, and likely the rest of my team. If the apparent Enclave plan is to remove us from the field, then why give us another reason to go after them? I felt Comet grab and yank on my collar, pulling me behind a pile of crumbled brickwork and glass. “What was that for?” I snapped as I swatted Comet’s hand away. He pointed around the pile of rubble. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m sure that the ponies in power armor would just love to meet you.” A quick glance out from behind cover proved Comet right. “Shit, what do we do?” I asked as I ducked back behind the pile. “There’s six of them and two of us.” Comet replied. “We need to sit tight and see what they’re doing. Once we have an idea we can go from there.” “Alright, move it!” One of the soldiers yelled. “He’s not talking to us, is he?” I asked Comet. He shook his head. “No. I think they’ve got prisoners.” The two of us peered around the rubble just in time to watch two familiar faces get forced down onto their knees. “What, no dinner and a movie?” Gramps joked. “What about Steeljack? Are you finding this just as annoying as I do?” “Shut up!” The soldier yelled as he smacked Gramps across the face. “Now where’s the rest of your squad?” Gramps shrugged. “Dead, hospitalized, disinterested… Honestly I’ve got no clue where everyone else is.” I grabbed Comet and pulled him back behind the rubble. “We need a plan.” Comet pulled out his radio and depressed a red button on the top of it. “Distress beacon is running. If we’re lucky Porter will pick it up and come with help.” “So we’re supposed to wait?” I asked. “Need I remind you that we’re outnumbered?” Comet retorted. I rolled my eyes and switched the safety off on my shotgun. “Just stay here. I’ll take care of these bozos.” As I stepped out from behind the rubble and shouldered my shotgun, two of the other soldiers saw me and pointed their weapons at me. “Drop your weapon!” I shrugged and turned my attention to the armored soldier standing over Gramps and Steeljack. “Are you the one in charge here?” I asked. The soldier nodded. “You must be Commander Dusk Light… I’ve got to admit, your file made you out to be shorter.” “You and I should know that you can’t always trust intel when it comes to small details.” I chided. “Now how about you let my friends here go. I’ve got a lot to do tonight and I do need their help.” The soldier shook his helmeted head. “I’m sorry Commander, but I have my orders.” I nodded. “And what would those be?” “To eliminate the leadership of the alliance that’s forming against our interests.” The soldier replied, pointing his pistol at me. “I’m sorry sir, but I have orders to remove you from the equation.” “You just said that you needed to eliminate the leadership of this ‘alliance’.” I replied with a wry smirk. “Hate to break it to ya, but I’m not the brains of this operation.” I saw the barrel on the soldier’s gun droop down slightly. While I couldn’t see his face, it's obvious that my words might have distracted him for a moment. At least to the point that he isn’t fully focused on his firearm. But judging by the stance of the other five of his compatriots, only the leader seems to have stopped to think. But as soon as it came the soldier tightened his grip on his pistol and I saw the barrel float back upwards to its level position with the ground. “And why should I believe that? You’ve already made direct threats against the General in that radio message last week, so you must be up to something.” The leader asked. “You said you’ve read my file.” I replied. “So you should know I’ve been back in the field for what, a bit over a week? That isn’t enough time to put together an army.” “You’re also known to be a charismatic individual. What’s to say that you didn’t turn the charm on with those Division punks?” The leader asked in return. Off somewhere behind me I could hear a hum, just barely becoming louder and louder. “You’re forgetting something there my good stallion.” “And just what would that be?” The roar of turbines went from a dull barely-audible hum to a low roar as the old picket passed over the ruins and came to a stop directly above the group of ponies. “You forgot the Marines.” While the Enclave soldiers were distracted Gramps seized on the opportunity. He sprung up from his kneeling position and knocked the leader in the center of his chest, knocking the distracted pegasus to the ground. By the time the other soldiers realized what was happening he was already in the middle of disarming his second opponent. As the soldier’s partner tried to sight his rifle on Gramps, Steeljack rushed forward and checked the armored stallion. Without the direct threat of an armed soldier ready to shoot, Gramps managed to use the opportunity to wrench the plasma rifle out of his opponents hands and wheeled around to face the stunned pegasus that Steeljack had knocked back. But in the grand scheme of things it looks like these soldiers aren’t going to be bothering us for a while. The leader was already back on his feet and was already airborne, heading away from us and the supporting airship hovering above the street. As the last of the Enclave soldiers took off after their leader, Gramps started waving his captured weapon at them. “Thats right, you better run!” He yelled. Comet finally took the opportunity to come out from behind the pile of rubble that he was using as cover. “Well that’s not something I’d expect…” He said, sounding slightly concerned. “What’s the problem?” I asked. “We just ran off a squad of soldiers that were far better armed than we were.” “The problem here is that Pathfinder teams don’t turn tail and run.” Comet replied. “Something’s up, that much I can guarantee you.” “Comet is definitely onto something.” Porter’s voice chimed over our radios. “We’re picking up radio chatter from across the city. It sounds like the Enclave’s ground troops are pulling back.” “That can’t be good.” Steeljack observed. “You’re right Steeljack.” Porter replied. “We just confirmed it with Rune… Our radar has just picked up a second Thunderhead moving on the city.” “Then they don’t need ground troops.” Gramps observed. “They’ve got enough firepower where they can level what's left of Chicacolt.” “Then we need a plan, and we need one badly.” Steeljack added. “Anyone with an idea, feel free to speak up.” “We were going to board the Victorious…” I said. “But I get the feeling that we won’t be able to get close enough with the picket so we can get on, at least not now that there’s another Thunderhead to worry about.” Through the brief conversation Comet remained silent. “Porter, where is that second Thunderhead?” “It’s coming in from the south. From what we can tell it looks like the thing is all on it’s own.” Comet seemed to stop and think. “Comet, do you want to share with the rest of the class?” He finally nodded. “Porter, patch me through to Rune.” His radio flashed a green light and his expression seemed to smooth back to it’s neutral standard. “Rune, head to the south side of the city and try to jam the Enclave communications.” “Copy that.” Rune said. “We’re diverting now.” “Good…” Comet muttered. “Dusk, you and Strike are going to be our boarding party. While we turn everything we can towards keeping the Enclave ships divided you two will storm the bridge and take control of the helm. Then you’re going to stuff that one right down the Victorious’ throat.” I couldn’t help but be taken aback at Comet’s sheer brazenness. While I remember moments of both bold idealism and brilliance when we were younger, what he just suggested is borderline suicidal. “Comet, are you all there?” I asked. To my own internal horror Comet nodded. “Earlier I told you that ponies around here respond to strength. Believe me, the Enclave isn’t any different.” At that point Comet started looking… Well, darker, as his neutral expression turned to a scowl. “So when they see those two Thunderheads dying in a fireball over the ruins, they’ll learn very quickly that we aren’t to be messed with.” Author's Note Another shorter chapter, but the next one will be far longer. We'll learn why the Pathfinders were established, and the first Wasteland encounter of Blaze Squad and the Enclave will come to a fiery conclusion. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Fireball (Arc III)Somewhere over Southern Chicacolt Half an Hour Later The deck under my feet shuddered and the picket shook slightly from side to side. In the back of my head I kept running through scenarios for how storming the unidentified Thunderhead would play out. “Ten seconds to drop!” Comet called out over the radio. The hatch in the side of the picket slid open and wind began whipping around the vestibule. “You ready Dusk?” Strike asked. As I looked out the open hatch and down at the top of the Thunderhead I nodded curtly. “Let's do it.” The picket slowed to a stop a few feet off the top of the ship and shuddered as explosions from flak shells rocked the vessel. “Boarding party, the light is green!” The drop down to the upper hull of the Thunderhead was only about ten feet, but it felt farther once I realized just how high up the cloudship was. My boots hit the hull with a thud and the wind kept whipping around and dulling the reports of the cloudship’s anti-aircraft weapons. I felt Strike tap my shoulder, and I turned around to see him pointing at a hatch in the hull. Luckily for the two of us the hatch opened with little struggle and we were able to drop into the interior of the dimly lit Thunderhead. So far there were no signs of any crew, and it didn’t look like our entry had set off any alarms. “Dusk, you good?” Strike whispered. I nodded and started creeping down the hallway after the pegasus. The dull thuds of the AA guns came in sync with the rocking of the deck plates, likely a sign that they were the source of the motion. “So how do you think it’s going out there?” I asked. Strike shrugged as we kept creeping along. “It’s probably anywhere from great to absolutely horrible. There’s no way to tell from where we are.” As the two of us rounded a corner the corridor opened up into a large room lit by sunlight. Strike stuck his head out around the corner before rapidly withdrawing and clicking the safety off on his submachine gun. “Looks like the bridge…” He muttered. “Only three officers, all unarmored.” I swung my shotgun off my back and nodded. “We can take them.” Strike nodded and ducked around the corner. “All of you, show me your hands!” To my surprise the three officers did just that. Their hands shot up like rockets at Strike’s order, and they all stayed pointing skyward. As I made my way up to the closest one I recognized an important fact. “Strike… These colts aren’t pegasi.” As Strike circled the trio he came to the same realization and nodded at me. “So what are you three doing on a cloudship?” “Wrong place at the wrong time?” One of them offered. “Well no shit.” Strike spat as he steadied the stock of his gun against his shoulder. “Do any of you have some other bright-sounding answer?” All three of the stallions shook their heads and I offered a sigh on instinct. “As much as I would love a good answer, I don’t think we’re getting one.” “Then you do your thing, and I’ll keep Moe, Larry and Curley here off your back.” Strike said, and he immediately began shepherding the officers towards the corner of the room with the barrel of his gun. As Strike did his thing I stepped over to the helm station. Glancing down at the compass I could tell that the cloudship was locked into a straight course that would likely parallel the other one that it was operating alongside, and the craft was moving ahead at a dismal fifteen miles per hour. “Doesn’t look like these guys are planning on getting anywhere quickly.” I observed aloud. “Hey, we were just told to maintain the speed and heading that we were given.” One of Strike’s prisoners insisted from across the room. “Then who’s controlling the weapons?” Strike asked as he shouldered his weapon again. “Well there’s a pathfinder team that’s been hanging out down in the engineering section.” The same stallion offered. “Chances are they’re the ones doing all the shooting.” “Strike, we can’t just leave.” I pointed out. “We need to get those pathfinders to come to us, otherwise this little raid won’t go anywhere.” “Then do you have any ideas?” Strike asked in return. I started pacing around the deck in a small circle. “Just give me a minute…” As I kept pacing my imaginary circle on the deck I caught sight of the controls. They were still set to maintain the slow and straight course over Chicacolt. “We need to mess with the flight controls!” “Ya… Take the ship off course and those pathfinders will have to come up here to investigate.” Strike said as he realized where I was going with my plan. I turned back to the control sticks and wrenched the left one as far back as I could get it to go, and the deck started to shift as the entire cloudship began to bank and take us towards the other one that the Enclave had operating over Chicacolt. “Bridge, what the hell are you doing up there?” “Oh, nothing important.” I said after hitting the intercom button on the control panel. “Wait, who the hell is this?” “You’re worst nightmare!” Strike yelled from across the bridge. BANG! The intercom panel exploded in a display of sparks, set off by a bullet from Strike’s own weapon. “Was that necessary?” I asked. “Well they’ll certainly come to us now!” Strike yelled, and as much as I loathe to admit it he’s right. We’re about to get very busy… *** Ten Minutes Later… “They’ll come to us now he said…” I sarcastically grumbled as Strike and I ducked behind one of the bridge consoles. As plasma bolts petered out as the hit the other side of the console I heard Strike sigh. “Would you rather that these guys be shooting at us or Chicacolt?” “I’d rather they not shoot anyone at all!” I spat. Somewhere on the other side of the bridge I heard the shuffling of feet, likely the bridge crew escaping. “And I’d rather we not lose prisoners.” “Well I’m sorry, but isn’t this circle of greatness a bit more important than a harmless bridge crew?” Strike asked, motioning at his face. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “If you say so…” For a moment I tried to catch a look over the top of the console, but a shower of sparks from a plasma bolt forced me back down behind my cover. “Now how do we take care of these Pathfinders?” “I was hoping that you had some ideas.” Strike countered. “Do you have any grenades?” I asked, only for Strike to shake his head. “Any explosives at all?” “Dude, we’re traveling light. Explosives didn’t top my list of things to bring with me.” Strike replied. As a series of boots smacked against the deck, it was safe to assume that the Pathfinders were now on the bridge. “Alright, come out with your hands up!” One of the Pathfinders yelled. I recognized the voice as the officer that we had faced earlier. “Well can you answer a question first?” I called out. “What are you doing?” Strike whispered. “I’m buying us some time.” I whispered back. After a few moments I heard the leader clear his throat. “What’s your question?” “What’s the deal with you Pathfinders?” I called out. “Until today I haven’t seen Enclave soldiers act quite like your team.” For another few moments there was silence, before the leader finally decided to speak once again. “You’re to thank Commander Dusk. If you never found a way to our world, we would’ve never have thought to go to yours.” “Wait, so I’m the reason that you Pathfinders exist? Better yet how’d you find out about our first trip?” “It was kind of hard for our spies to miss your escapades out in the wilderness. Not everyone digs up a corpse to steal its brain after all.” The leader replied. “Once you left it didn’t take us long to find the portal that was in the labyrinth under Tenpony Tower.” “You had the one on our end destroyed after Cosmo arrived, didn’t you?” Strike whispered. “I did.” I whispered back. “But we didn’t trash the one on this end… Which means that the Enclave must have reverse-engineered it.” “So is that it?” The leader called out. “That’s all you wanted to know before we kill you?” “Well why come to our world?” I yelled back. “You’ve seen what we’re living with, why wouldn’t we go for your world?” The leader retorted. “Our entire society is dying, and your appearance gave us hope that we could actually survive. We don’t need to muck around in this hell anymore!” “So that’s what all of this is about, survival?” Strike called out. “You could’ve always just asked for some help!” “Sorry, but that isn’t how the world works.” The leader replied. “The strong survive while the weak perish. We’re simply the strongest, hence our continued survival.” “Well so far we’re still alive. How’s that bode for your so-called strength?” I retorted. “I don’t know about you but I think that means we’re the strongest!” But as two of the armored Enclave soldiers rounded the console with their plasma rifles trained on both myself and Strike, that momentary confidence started to wane. “Or maybe it’s just dumb luck?” “Maybe it is…” One of the soldiers muttered. “What are your orders boss?” “Isn’t it obvious?” The leader asked as he peered down at Strike and I over the top of the console. “We can’t leave these loose ends unattended.” “You’re right, we can’t!” Someone shouted, before a set of hands grabbed the leader and tossed him from view. The other two turned to face… Whoever it was that just tossed their boss around like a ragdoll, but didn’t do anything. They didn’t get the opportunity as they were grabbed by a white-colored field of magic and got ripped across the bridge, making dull-sounding thuds when they hit the wall. “What just happened?” Strike muttered. With silence came a distinct lack of answers, so I got to my knees and peered over the top of the console. “Uh… Strike?” Off to my right I heard my pegasi companion offer a low whistle. “Well you don’t see that every day…” The ‘that’ was a pony wearing a tattered black cloak standing over a now headless Pathfinder. The other two were out cold in the opposite corners of the bridge, showing no outward signs of life. In the hand of this pony was the helmeted head of the lead Pathfinder, while the other held a bloody glowing blade. “You two can come out now.” The pony said, his voice sounding old and scratchy. As Strike and I stepped out from behind the console the deck began to tilt under our feet. “And just who are you?” “Who I am is unimportant Commander.” The old pony replied. “What is important is your mission, and it can’t be completed so long as these two war machines bear down on your friends.” After a few seconds of studying the old bearded pony I finally came to a realization. “You’re the one who saved me back in the Northern Wastes.” “Glad to see that you recognized me.” The pony replied. “Now I believe that you were planning to teleport off this craft to the safety of one of the nearby rooftops.” “How’d you-” “It doesn’t matter how I know. Get going, I’ll make sure that this cloudship keeps its appointment.” The pony stepped forward, grabbed the helm controls and began manipulating them. As he worked the sticks the deck began to rock and bob about. “Now what are you waiting for, an invitation?” “But what you’re planning-” Strike didn’t get to finish his protest as I grabbed the collar of his jacket and forced a quick change of scenery. As our boots hit broken concrete, a shadow that was hanging over the cityscape disappeared as the hum of turbines slowly faded off into the distance. As Strike turned around I heard him mutter something unintelligible. “What did you say?” I asked. I turned and saw the two Thunderheads on a collision course. “I said what you’ve planning is suicide.” “You’re not kidding…” I muttered as the two Thunderheads closed on each other. As the one we had just departed from smacked into the side of it’s companion, the distant sounds of crunching metal could be heard echoing about the city. “Have you ever run into anyone that looked like him?” “You mean our Cratwellian buddy? Can’t say I have.” Strike replied. He was silent for about a minute while the two Thunderheads slowly crashed into the lake that bordered the northern part of the city. “You said something about him saving your ass?” I nodded. “In the Northern Wastes, I got my ass beat. I was about to pass out when I saw him standing over me, firing off a flare gun. That’s how Gramps and Porter found me… But I thought I had hallucinated that pony.” “There was obviously more to it.” Strike pointed out. “You could say that…” I replied, cutting my comment short as the wash of turbines knocked about some of the loose bits of concrete and debris. “But we’ll talk about that more later. Right now I get the feeling that we’ve got places to be.” *** Neighfair, Two Hours Later… Since being brought back to Neighfair, Kovac had Comet, Strike and myself secluded with Jericho in the infirmary. Within thirty minutes the rest of my team was herded into the cramped room and we all stayed there for the ensuing hour and a half. Suffice to say there was some discussion regarding the pony that Strike and I had encountered on the bridge of the Cloudship. It took a few minutes but both Jericho and Specter recognized the description of our mystery pony. Over the span of the last two hundred years there had been a number of encounters with an individual that the Second Division called the Mountaineer. All of the descriptions going back to just after the unit established itself in their mountain fortress of this individual were identical. That begs a simple question; who is the Mountaineer? He certainly doesn’t look like a ghoul, but I also doubt that we’re dealing with a single individual. More likely we’re talking about a progression of ponies that style themselves after a predecessor. As Jericho finally finished his explanation of this ‘Mountaineer’ character, the door swung open and Kovac finally joined us. “I’ve got some good news.” He said as he shut the door. “Don’t keep us in suspense.” Jericho chided. “Well our scouts managed to recover some Enclave communications hardware.” Kovac explained. “They had a lot riding on those two Thunderheads, and losing both eliminated a significant tactical advantage that they had. That’s why West Wind has ordered all of his forces back to Canterlot.” “They’re retreating?” Gramps asked. “That's what it sounds like.” Kovac admitted. “But we can’t let them take the opportunity to dig in and regroup. If they do, defeating them will become significantly more difficult… Tomorrow morning, we go to war.” Author's Note So that's it for this third story arc! Was it short? Yes, but that'll change for the next arc. We'll focus on the attack on the Canterlot ruins, a period that puts some more focus on Dusk and Steeljack. The working title for that arc is "The Initiative", and we'll finally see Kovac become the villain that he's been established as. In the intervening time I've pumped out a grand total of eight complete chapters with a ninth in progress for the successor to Broken Mirror, Reflections. But before we get to that we've got another interlude chapter coming up! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Greater Purpose (Interlude III)Dusk, Present Day The Grotto “And you’re sure that we’ve got nothing?” I asked, directing the question at the technician that was managing the large displays at the head of the control room. “I’m sure Commander. Thermal imagery isn’t showing anything, and our ground teams are reporting that the factory is empty. Kovac and his synths are gone.” “That sounds like a bit of a problem…” Dart muttered. “That might be an understatement.” I observed. “If we don’t know where Kovac is, then we can’t take him out… And who knows what he could be doing.” While I made my point I saw the door to the command center open out of the corner of my eye, and two familiar figures entered the room. “Did you two sleep well?” “As well as you could expect given the circumstances.” Cosmo said. “Now whats going on?” “We just lost track of a homicidal maniac.” Dart chortled. “You know, kid stuff?” “Kovac disappeared?” Cosmo said. “That's a bit of a problem, don’t you think?” “Well no shit.” I countered. “So he pulled a trick out of the Mountaineer’s book… What’s the big deal? He’ll show up eventually.” Archer pointed out. “Well you’re-” I stopped dead once I fully processed what Archer had said. She brought up the Mountaineer, the pony that had saved my ass on two separate occasions during the Wasteland mission… And I never said a thing about him to Archer. “You’re not wrong.” I said, finishing the thought that I started a moment before. “But we still need to worry about Kovac. If he’s out there and we can’t find him… Everything is gonna go straight to hell.” “Alright, I’ll put some agents on it. If we’re lucky they’ll find something.” Cosmo said as he turned and led Archer down the hallway. Dart stepped out of the command center as both Cosmo and his adopted daughter walked out of sight around the corner. “Is something wrong?” She asked. “How could Archer know about the Mountaineer?” I muttered. “We never got that far, and I haven’t said anything else to her about the Wasteland since this business with Kovac started.” “What about the memory orb? Wasn’t that part of what you programed it with?” Dart asked. “Shit, you’re right…” I muttered. “She must be retaining what was in that memory orb. Dart, this could be a major problem. If Archer snaps like the last colt who used that thing-” “She needs to be quarantined until we know what’s going on with her.” Dart pointed out. I nodded in agreement. “Alright, I’ll handle Archer. You keep tabs on the Kovac situation.” As I started walking off after Archer, Dart grabbed my shoulder and stopped me. “Just be careful.” She whispered. I flashed a cocky grin almost on reflex. “You got it babe.” *** Ten Minutes Later… Actually tracking down Archer and Cosmo proved rather difficult, something that should have been rather easy considering that I know the Grotto like the back of my hand. But after about ten minutes of wandering I managed to find Cosmo and Archer in armory, where Cosmo was running through field-stripping drills with his daughter. As they worked I just remained silent, and there wasn’t any indication that they knew I was there. As Archer clicked the slide back into place on what looked like some sort of magnum, Cosmo nodded in approval. “Forty five seconds… Not bad.” He said as he took the pistol from his daughter and examined it. He pulled the slid back to run through it’s cycle and it didn’t make a sound. “Not bad at all. If I didn’t see it myself I would’ve thought that someone else put this together.” “Since when has Archer ever handled a gun?” I asked, drawing the attention of the other two ponies in the armory. “And better yet what the hell is that?” Cosmo shrugged. “Gunfighter variant of the standard human Magnum. I’ve had one in my armory for a while and I thought it would be a good thing to teach Archer with.” Just thinking back to the many times that I had been in Cosmo’s armory, I don’t ever remember seeing a pistol quite like what he had in his hands. Every gun he owned was out in plain view, so I’m certain I would’ve seen this one before today. “When did you get this?” “What, about a year ago?” Cosmo said. “It was right after you came to check out Phalanx’s pet project.” Pet project… Right, Phalanx has finally managed to finish Storm Cloud’s training. “Is it good, or does it work as weird as it looks?” “It handles like a normal magnum, but it's just a whole lot lighter.” Archer added. Other than the fact that Archer already knows the differences between this modified pistol and it’s standard design, I found her statement rather innocuous. It was a simple comment that any soldier would make, but Archer was no soldier. Furthermore I don’t think that she’s ever picked up a gun before the last two days. But I had picked up magnums hundreds of times… Add that to the fact that she’s already mentioned the Mountaineer and that simple comment became far more concerning. “How are you feeling Archer?” “Fine… Why?” She asked. I offered a shrug. “Oh, no reason…” With a sudden flare of magic along my horn I blasted Archer with a bolt of pure energy, knocking her onto the ground and forcing her into unconsciousness Cosmo was on me right away and had me by the collar of my armor. “What was that for?!” He yelled. “There’s something going on here.” I said as I brushed Cosmo off. “I think Archer might still be processing what she got out of the memory orb.” “So you knocked her out?!” “Well I can’t get in her head while she’s conscious.” I retorted as I charged up another spell. As I cast it my surroundings changed. No longer was I standing in the armory, but in a smoke filled ‘chamber’. But I wasn’t alone. A few feet away was Archer, who was standing with the spitting image… Of, well, myself. “Get moving kiddo.” The mirror image of me said, right as Archer disappeared. “What the hell is this?” I asked. “What the hell are you?” “I’m you, assuming that you didn’t already figure that out.” The duplicate replied. “But how do you even exist? I didn’t create a personality construct to go with the memory orb.” I retorted. “I guess you could call me an afterthought.” Said the duplicate. “Without me, Archer would’ve gone crazy with the sudden exposure to all of the stuff you had in that orb. I’ve been controlling that so she has time to adjust to the changes.” “You still didn’t answer my question.” I pointed out. “Do you really want to know?” The duplicate asked, and the fog shifted to the spitting image of a cavern beneath Canterlot Castle that I was very familiar with. “What does the Nexus have to do with this?” “Look around Dusk. What do you see?” I couldn’t help but do exactly what the duplicate asked. As I looked around I noticed some rather important differences to the Nexus chamber that I was familiar with. The walls lined with crystal were broken and scorched, the pool of neon-green liquid that headed the chamber was entirely empty… And at the foot of that pool was a spot on the floor that was scorched blacker than anything I had ever seen, with a distinct area directly next to it that was far lighter. “Is that what I think it is?” “A nuclear shadow, left as you stood next to the exploding havoc that Kovac set off.” The duplicate explained. “Lucky for the city your shield spell contained most of the blast. Just a few broken windows and light fixtures.” “You mean I die in Canterlot?” “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it that…” The duplicate said. “But you certainly did something rather important.” “Like what?” I spat. “Like fulfilling the Broken Mirror paradox.” Broken Mirror paradox? That rings a bell or two… “You mean the thing that Amore has been researching? The thing she thought that I was going to carry out?” “Well you do carry it out, just not on purpose.” The duplicate said. “Obviously I can’t go into more detail than that, but she’s been right for a long time.” “I don’t know what to say…” I muttered. “It sounds like you’re telling me that I’m in for a world of hurt.” “Again, I don’t know if I’d call it that.” The duplicate replied. “But if I were you I’d go make some preparations.” Suddenly I was back in the armory, on my knee while Cosmo was trying to shake me. “Dusk, are you alright?” As I looked over at the unconscious form of Archer, I couldn’t help but realize that I wasn’t alright. In fact I’d say I’m far from alright. But I didn’t need to say anything as I got up and walked out of the armory… Well, at least not to Cosmo. *** Another Ten Minutes Later, Dusk’s Office “Dusk, what can I do for you?” That individual I had to say something to was an old friend/antagonist. “Serin… Sorry for calling on such short notice but I need something.” The Admiral nodded. “So what do you need? Equipment? Some new arms?” “Actually I need some personal favors.” I said. “I need you to prepare augmentation procedures for Archer, three sets of Mjoinir armor each optimized for one of the Equine subspecies… And then I need you to come here.” “Archer… You mean Cosmo’s daughter?” “Yup.” “Alright… Then why do you need me to come to Equis?” “Because I’m going to die, and I need you so I can dictate my will.” For a moment Osman seemed shocked. “You’re going to die?” “Kovac returned, and I’ve seen where I end up Serin. Which is why I need you to come here so I can dictate my will.” “But why me? We’ve got some rather mixed history.” “But you also know how to keep a secret.” I countered. “Which is why I want you here Serin. You’re the only person or pony I trust enough to go to with this. Please Serin… Help me out here.” Serin simply nodded. “I’ll be there in a few hours. Serin out.” Author's Note And there's another Interlude down, and we're onto the final arc in Broken Mirror! But in case some of you are wondering what the change is for, it comes down to what I was planning with Reflections. Because both Arcs were meant to wrap up the two parts of the story, the coming arc meant to end the wasteland adventure and the final arc was meant to wrap up what Kovac was doing in the present day, I felt that it would be a good idea to take that final arc and re-purpose it for the prologue of Reflections. It'll also make for a far better setup to the sequel. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Canterlot Ruins, Part I (Arc IV)Aboard E-201, somewhere over Equis Dusk “Alright, we’re ten minutes out from the Canterlot Ruins.” Porter called out from the helm. “Meteor, you ready on those comms?” “Ready!” Gramps called out. Above us on one of the large old screens appeared Kovac’s face, backed by rock cliffs. “Kovac, you’re on!” “Good, my infiltration team is coming up the cliffs on the far side of the ruins. We should be in position within half an hour. What’s the status on the armored column?” “They’re gotten to a point about a half mile outside of what was the city limits, but they can’t go any farther.” Gramps said. “The terrain is far too damaged, likely a byproduct of the last time the Enclave was in town, so they’ll provide fire support as we send infantry in.” “What about you Dusk?” Kovac asked. “Steeljack and I are ready to go.” I said. “What about the dragon? Have you heard anything from Spike?” “Actually we haven’t, so Comet and Strike are going to pay him a visit with the Rangers. If we’re lucky it’s just an issue with the comms.” I replied. “As for our other friends back in Chicacolt, Radiant is gathering her merry band of misfits. The Rangers will pick them up before they join us.” “Well then, we all know the plan. Good luck everyone, Kovac out.” Even though we had discussed the planned assault on the Canterlot Ruins in great detail, more and more I felt something was off whenever I spoke with Kovac. Almost like my gut was telling me that there was something that he wasn’t saying. “Something bugging you too Dusk?” Gramps asked from across the bridge. “So you and I both have the same bad gut feeling?” I wondered aloud as I walked off the bridge. “Now I’m even more scared!” The cargo bay was but a short stroll down the corridor, and I found Steeljack sorting through his equipment when I walked in. “Are we there yet?” Steeljack asked as he finished putting a belt-fed light machine gun together. “We’ll be there in ten minutes.” I said as I picked up my shotgun off the top of a container that was being used as a table. “Did Gramps bring you up to speed?” “He said you and I were going to go find and kill West Wind.” Steeljack replied as he attached a sling to his weapon. “Although I’ve got to admit, being tagged as a hitstallion is new.” “I know that it's not idea, but he’s the snake. Cut the head off and the rest dies.” I said as I slung the shotgun onto my back. “I under that Dusk. Hell, and I can live with the crazy shit I’ve seen. But I’ve never been told to go off someone on purpose.” Steeljack said. “Even if that pony has certainly earned it…” “Alright, you’ve got a point.” I admitted. “This is definitely outside of what we’d consider normal. Now is there something bothering you?” “Just the same rather broad ethical question I ask before every mission.” Steeljack replied. “Want to read me in on it then?” I asked. Steeljack nodded. “I always ask myself whether we’re doing the right thing or not… Well, I haven’t always wondered that. It all started after that visit to the plantation.” “Plantation… You’re talking about De Witt, aren’t you?” I asked as I turned around. Steeljack nodded again and turned to face me. “Granted that one worked out for the best, but it still got me to think about what I’ve been doing. Although I’ve been asking myself that question more and more over the last few years.” “Was it really that stressful?” “At times it was.” Steeljack said. “Las Pegasus, the mission to the Pioneer, Canterlot, the Badlands… Pretty much all of the big missions I got roped into were.” “Sounds like it was fun.” I offered. “Remember that it was Dart that was in charge the whole time.” Steeljack pointed out. “Believe me when I say she probably had it far worse than I did.” That point brought me back to my marefriend that we had left in Theater so she could properly be cared for. “Do you think she’ll be OK?” Steeljack could only shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen her hurt that badly before. At least she’s in good hands...” “I guess that’s a consolation prize.” I said. “And probably the best one you’re getting given the circumstances. So focus on the here and now. You can control what happens down there, not what’s happening with Dart back at Theater.” Said Steeljack. I nodded. “Another fair point, I guess.” “Dusk, we’re five minutes out.” Porter called out over the intercom. “Sounds like it’s game time.” Steeljack said as he clipped the magazine box onto his weapon. Schick-schick “Damn straight it is.” *** “Dusk, Steeljack. You’re good to go!” “Copy that!” I yelled as I hit the cargo bay’s door release. The hatch in the floor immediately slid open, letting the air course about the bay. “Steeljack, you ready?” “Do you even have to ask?” The stallion called out. “Well it never hurts to be sure!” I said as I stepped up to the edge of the hatch. “See you on the other side!” Judging by the look of shock I doubt that Steeljack expected me to simply drop out of the bottom of the picket especially when the ground was a good twenty feet away. I hit the broken rock and dirt rather quickly, having fallen like a rather dignified stone. But I made it down in one piece and that’s all that mattered. THUD! “Well that’s one way down...” Steeljack groaned as he rolled his right shoulder. Steeljack wasn’t wrong, that certainly was one way down from the picket. As E-201 pulled away, the drone of its turbines was replaced by the pops of distant rifle-fire. “Who the hell’s shooting?” I muttered. Steeljack turned and motioned with his weapon. “Sounds like it’s coming from farther down the mountain. Maybe some of the Enclave soldiers got the jump on Porter and the Marines.” “Well what about the armor?” I asked, looking down to the ridge that the tanks were reported to be parked on. “They were supposed to be providing fire support.” Steeljack didn’t wait to fish out his radio. “Meteor, this is Steeljack. Come in.” But as his radio didn’t even emit static, he instinctively tapped it against his weapon and hit the transmitter again. “Meteor, can you hear me?” But Steeljack’s radio still remained silent. “Could the Enclave be jamming us?” I asked. “If they were we’d be getting a whole lot more than nothing.” Steeljack countered. “And here’s another question… Porter’s Marines took over the armor so the Division’s infantry could advance under their cover. They’re not here either. Just what the hell is going on?” Logic would dictate that we should be in the middle of a massive firefight right now, but instead we’ve got an empty battlefield. “I don’t know, and I doubt it matters. We’ve still got a job to do.” It didn’t take much more to convince Steeljack that it was time to get moving. “So we have no working radio, no fire support and no backup. How are we going to make that work?” “Lets just take it one step at a time.” I replied. “First thing’s first, we need to assess the situation.” As we made our way past what was at one point a building’s foundation, only identifiable by the bricks laid out in the ground in a rectangular shape, filled with piles of broken masonry and other destroyed building materials. “So much for a city… Steeljack, what happened here?” “They called it Operation Cauterize.” Steeljack replied. “Back when the Enclave was at it’s peak they were launching massive assaults on populated areas. Canterlot was one, although it was filled with supercharged ghouls. It was their first target, and they managed to knock the whole city down in one pass.” “Sounds like they had some serious firepower at their disposal.” I observed as we came upon another filled-in foundation, this one with some bones scattered across the rubble pile. “Back then they did, but they’ve understandably taken a serious beating since then.” Said Steeljack. As I turned my attention forward I saw a wall that was still standing, easily a good three feet taller than myself. I waved from Steeljack to the right corner of the wall. “Stack up.” I whispered. I slid up alongside the wall and with a barely audible thud I could tell that Steeljack was right behind me. “Ready.” He whispered. I gave it a three-count before I whipped around the corner with my shotgun shouldered, but that didn’t prepare me for what was waiting for the two of us. While there was a fully-armored Enclave soldier standing on the other side of the wall, there was a Second Division soldier also standing there with him, and both were aiming their weapons at me. “Kill him!” The Division soldier yelled. I cursed under my breath as I smacked the Division soldier’s weapon away, while Steeljack went at the Enclave soldier. “Aren’t we on the same side?” I asked as I ducked a swing from my opponent. The Division soldier didn’t say anything as he shouldered his rifle again and took aim. “I guess not!” BANG! Schick-schick Before the Division soldier got to his trigger I let loose a twelve-gauge shell, catching my opponent square in the chest and sending him to the ground in a crumpled mess. Steeljack’s Enclave opponent joined the turncoat immediately, collapsing to help form a tangled mess of limbs. “Alright, that was too easy.” Steeljack observed. Steeljack did reach down, offering me a hand in getting to my feet. But I ignored the gesture, instead sliding over to the Division soldier’s dead body. Looking at his face I could see where one of the pieces of the shot slammed into his face mask, tearing right through it like a hot knife through butter. But there was something important missing. There was no blood. Even as I looked down towards the soldier’s chest I didn’t see any of the red bodily fluid. “Steeljack, do you see something missing here?” Steeljack took a moment to study the crumpled mess of limbs before he too came to the same realization that I had already reached. “Where’s the blood?” “Glad I’m not the only one who picked up on that.” I said as I started undoing the Division soldier’s mask. As the last clasp was undone the mask flapped away from the soldier’s face, and I quickly tossed it away. Immediately it became clear why there wasn’t any blood. “Steeljack… Does that look like metal to you?” “Hot damn…” Steeljack muttered. With the mask removed both of us could clearly make out the broken shape of a synth. “I thought so.” I said as I clambered to my feet. “Have you ever heard of a synth that disguises itself?” Steeljack shook his head. “Can’t say that I have, but this could explain a lot. The lack of support, the rifle fire we heard when we got here…” “Then we need to get the lead out.” I replied. “We need to find some sort of command post.” As we started walking deeper into the ruins I heard Steeljack cough. “What if they don’t have one up and running?” I took a moment to glance over at Steeljack “What are you getting at?” “What if this is all just one big trap? What then?” Now that’s an uncomfortable point… But that would mean that the Division was planning on stabbing us in the back from the get-go. That would mean that we were meant to find Specter in Manehattan, and that everything else we went for was a calculated maneuver against us. “I don’t want to think about it.” Steeljack took the opportunity to get in my way, and judging by the look on his face he wasn’t all that happy. “Are you serious?” “Yes, I am.” I said as I pushed past the imposing stallion. “Do you realize where that line of thinking is going?” “Yes, I do. We really need to think about how we got here… Even more so now that there’s a possibility that Division soldiers are actually synths.” Steeljack countered. “And you’re certainly right Steeljack.” I replied. “And I’ll gladly entertain that line of thinking once we deal with the task at hand.” Suddenly Steeljack grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back a step. “What was that for?” “Take a look.” Steeljack said as he pointed at a large gaping hole that I nearly fell into. “Huh… Would you look at that?” I muttered. “Now doesn’t that look familiar to you?” Steeljack asked. It took a moment, but as I looked at the surrounding ground I realized that we weren’t standing on dirt any more, but a cracked marble slab. “This must have been where the castle stood.” “Which would make that wall part of the castle too.” Steeljack added as he looked around. “Want to make a guess where that leads?” “The Nexus…” I slowly said as the realization dawned on me. “This would’ve been the passage down to it.” “And it’s probably where West Wind is hiding.” Steeljack added. After a few more moments to myself I finally decided on a course of action. “Steeljack, you stay up here. I’ll go down and see what’s there.” As I started slowly walking down the broken stairs Steeljack grabbed my arm again. “Be careful Dusk.” He said before letting me go. I didn’t say anything to my old friend. I simply nodded before starting down into the dark passage. Author's Note And there we go, the start to the final story arc of Broken Mirror! WOO!!! I can actually see the light of day again! Now I'll be honest, I don't know how long this final arc will end up. But It'll at bare minimum tie off the Broken Mirror story so I can move onto Reflections. Oh, and by the way, it's at eleven chapters as of today... Dear god, this is what happens when I get an idea. Regardless, keep an eye on the blog posts for more on Reflections and more multiverse shenanigans! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Canterlot Ruins, Part II (Arc IV)Somewhere Under the Ruins of Canterlot Dark. Cold. Stale. Those three words easily described the old passage way that I was trudging through under the ground that was once Canterlot. Otherwise this old passage was identical to it’s counterpart in my own universe. That similarity nagged at the back of my mind. What if there was a Nexus in the cavern at the bottom of the passage? Even if West Wind isn’t down here such power can’t simply be left alone, at least not in this world. But that logically assumes that a Nexus even exists in this universe. Obviously the cavern must exist, as the way down is identical, but will that confluence of the universe exist here as well? You know what? I should stop with the ‘what if’ questions. They aren’t helping me focus on the task at hand. As my boots hit the bottom of the long staircase I finally noticed that the Nexus chamber was lit up with some portable construction lights. “Looks like someone’s home…” I muttered as I quickly checked my shotgun. As I stepped into the chamber proper I realized that someone was, in fact, home. There was only one pony in the cavern, standing with his back and wings to me. “Why Dusk, thank you for coming.” West Wind said as he turned to face me. As our eyes locked I noticed the first major problem; West Wind’s eyes were glowing a blood red. “What’s with the fancy light trick?” “It’s no trick Commander.” West Wind replied, a certain electronic quality evident in his voice. “It’s simply a sign of my superiority over you.” “You make it sound like you’re a god.” I retorted. “Like I said, I'm simply superior!” West Wind spat as he spread his stance out. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Gee, where have I heard that before?” As West Wind lunged forward I ducked past the first punch that he threw. “If memory serves, I said something similar to you when you were on the operating table a few years ago.” “Really? I don’t recall.” I retorted as I threw my own punch, one that West Wind deftly avoided. “And how would you?” West Wind countered as he failed another attempt at landing a blow. “You were under anesthesia and looked like a fillet!” “Ah, those were the days!” I chided as I stepped back out of range of another of West Wind’s swings. “If my memory is correct, I did a good job pissing you off when I was awake!” But at that point my luck ran out, and I felt West Wind’s fist slam into the center of my gut. As I fell to my knees West Wind grabbed my hair and yanked back on my head, pointing my muzzle up to face his glowing red eyes. “Oh you did… And now you’ll pay the price.” “No he won’t!” As soon as Steeljack’s voice rang out West Wind turned to face the out-of-sight stallion, only for something to slam into the side of his head that managed to stagger the pegasus. I finally caught sight of the grey stallion as he hauled me up to my feet. “I thought you were covering our way out?” I asked as I brushed some dust off my gear. \ “Ya…” Steeljack muttered as he glanced away from me. “About that…” Almost as if it was a reflex I rolled my eyes. “Alright, just how screwed are we?” “I don’t think it’s so much that we’re screwed, but that there probably isn’t enough ammo on this mountain for the two of us to shoot our way out.” Steeljack countered. Sadly I didn’t get a chance to retort as West Wind grabbed the back of my armor and tossed me to the ground. “Just because you have the numbers doesn’t mean that you still have the advantage!” The pegasus shouted. As I scrambled back to my feet I saw Steeljack grapple onto West Wind’s back and try to wrench him to the ground. “You sure about that?” Steeljack asked as he struggled with the well-built pegasus. I finally managed to get in close enough and landed a glancing blow across the metal platework that encompassed half of West Wind’s head. “I don’t think he is. Odds are that part of ole’ Westy’s head is missing!” When I went to land my second hit West Wind managed to break free of Steeljack’s grasp, lunged out of the way before smashing us together head-first. As the two of us were caught in the moment he drove his clenched fists down onto both of us, and the last thing I remember seeing before passing out was Steeljack’s jaw smacking into the stone floor of the cavern. *** An Undetermined Amount of Time Later… “Ugh…” I heard Steeljack groan as consciousness finally returned to me after some time apart. “Anyone catch that license plate?” After a few more moments I finally realize that I was bound by the wrists to a metal pole behind me. I opened my eyes and saw West Wind standing in front of me, his back turned as he studied the large empty pool that was once the beating heart of this chamber. “Nope, I got a feeling that we’ve got a hit and run on our hands.” I replied. “If only you were that lucky” West Wind said as he turned around to face the two of us. “Sadly Dusk, I have to inform you that your luck has just run out.” “And why’s that? Because you decided to open a strip club down here?” I said as I wiggled against the pole that I was tied to. “Really Westy, it’s all about the location and amenities. And believe me, one really scarred stallion in a dank cave in the middle of nowhere is not enough to support whatever your business model is.” Off to the side I heard Steeljack chuckle, but West Wind’s expression didn’t change. “Well I’m sorry Dusk, but you’re inflated sense of self-worth isn’t doing you any favors.” “From the sounds of it you’re rather annoyed by my self-worth.” “And he isn’t the only one.” Came a voice from behind us. After a few seconds I could see that pony out of the corner of my eye. The first thing I noticed was the bone white fur over a black set of what looked like combat armor. “Oh no…” I muttered. “What, what is it?” Steeljack asked. “It’s Dusk realizing that he probably should’ve trusted his instincts.” By now the other pony in the room had decided to stroll into view and stood with West Wind, starring both myself and Steeljack down. “Kovac…” I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. “I’m really hoping that you’ve got a good explanation for this.” Kovac simply shrugged as a wry smirk crossed his face. “Well I do Dusk. This is about power. The power to create, the power to destroy… And how you have always kept me away from that.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “I’m older than I look Commander.” Kovac countered. “In fact, it’s in this very chamber that a version of you denied me my last chance at unbridled power… Goddess, it’s hard to believe that it’s really been almost two hundred years already.” “Two hundred years? How the hell are you that old?” Steeljack exclaimed. Kovac shrugged, maintaining that same smug smirk he had been wearing since we first laid our eyes on him. “Well a complete blood transfusion from an individual who is a quarter alicorn tends to have its benefits.” “Quarter alicorn?” “You didn’t know?” Kovac said, feigning shock and surprise. “Why Steeljack, our mutual friend here is the grandson of Celestia herself!” Once I heard that from Kovac, I could swear that I could hear a pin drop with how quiet the cavern became. “What?” Steeljack exclaimed. “He’s not wrong.” I said, shaking my head. “I just found out a few weeks ago… But that means that Kovac would’ve had to have figured that out about this reality’s version of me.” “You did raise me.” Kovac retorted. “Well… Your counterpart did, and he was rather honest about his heritage." "That still doesn't tell me why you're so pissed at me." "I was orphaned after the bombs fell. My father, Spark, was aboard the airship E-201 when it went missing in the Northern Wastes. And you hid that from me until you were on death’s door in this very cavern. Do you know what that did to me Dusk?” “I can take a wild guess, considering I’ve been in a similar boat.” I said, still struggling against my binds. “But Spark was an earth pony. Where’d you get the horn?” For a few seconds Kovac’s horn sparked, before changing color. It went from the same white as his fur to the deep shade of purple that made up a clear night sky. “Why, I took it from you!” “Goddess… You’re insane!” I heard Steeljack yell. But Kovac obviously disagreed if his physical response was any indicator. “I’d say I’m more of a visionary Steeljack. Why, I another source of power sitting right next to you… And I’m also sure that I’ll find a use for your enhanced genetics as part of my Synth program.” “Well that assumes that you even get the chance!” I immediately recognized the voice, but couldn’t see where it had come from. “Dart?” “The one and only.” My marefriend’s seemingly disembodied voice replied. “Hate to break it to you Kovac, but I’m going to be taking my friends out of here.” “Well even if you could, you’d still have to get past the army of my Synths up on the surface.” Kovac retorted. As soon as he said that a green mare flashed into place behind both Kovac and West Wind. “Already did!” Dart yelled as she bashed West Wind with the butt of her rifle, while turning and ducking under a sudden wide swing from Kovac. While my marefriend took to the proverbial dancefloor with Kovac and his Pegasus lackey, I felt something cut the bindings that had been holding me to the pole. “Hope we’re not too late.” Jericho muttered. “You’re just in time.” I said as I rubbed at my wrists, which were feeling decidedly sore after struggling against the ropes that they had been tied up with. “Now have you seen-” Instead of finishing my sentence I grabbed the shotgun that was unceremoniously stuffed in my face. “Just shut it!” Jericho sharply replied. “Dart, it’s time to go!” “Got it!” The mare yelled as she swept around Kovac’s back before kicking him straight into the empty Nexus pit. It’s as we ran out of the cavern and up the stone staircase that I noticed something different about Dart. I only caught it for a brief second, but her mane color was off. After a minute of plodding up the stairs I could see what it was. Gone was the short grey mane that she had topping her head for years, replaced with a long green and white style. “What the hell happened to your hair?” I said as we finally set foot above ground. “It got burnt off last I checked.” Dart retorted as she turned to face me. “This was the best that Star could pull off on short notice.” “Well… It looks good!” I exclaimed, forgetting where we were for a brief moment so I could attempt to appreciate the change. But I came back to reality as a large shadow cast itself over the ruins of Canterlot Castle. “Oh fuck…” I heard Steeljack whisper. As I turned I could see why he suddenly was starting to panic. “Spike! Glad you could make it! I take it that you got Strike’s message?” The dragon nodded as he settled on the ground. “Sorry it took me so long. I got tied up with an unexpected guest.” “Worry about it later!” I yelled as a series of bullets crashed into the ground by my feet. “Spike, we need to go!” “Are you serious? You want me to fly off with a dragon?!” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Obviously Steeljack’s underlying terror of dragons might prove to be a bit of a problem… “Don’t worry, I’ve got him covered.” Dart said as she walked up to the distracted grey stallion. As Dart reeled back with her submachine gun, Steeljack suddenly seemed to realize what she was planning. “Dart, wai-” CRACK! “Was that necessary?” I asked as my marefriend hoisted Steeljack’s limp body over her shoulder. “Do you want him to be kicking and screaming the whole way back to the command post?” Dart retorted as we were scooped up by our dragon rescuer. Once we were in the air and I could see the small horde of Division and Enclave soldiers that were rushing towards where we had been standing. “No… Can’t say I’d be for it.” *** Two miles outside of the Canterlot Ruins Twenty Minutes Later Seven. That number is how many Division soldiers are still on our side… At least that are alive. Right after we spoke to Kovac on the picket, before Steeljack and I were dropped in the ruins the situation went south HARD. About half of the five hundred Division soldiers mixed in with the Marines turned and started firing on them. In response the Marines did the only sensible thing and started shooting, targeting any pony in Division armor in sight. Of those out on the field that were caught in the shootout, medics confirmed that approximately four hundred of the Division soldiers were really Synths. The rest… The rest of them probably didn’t know what was happening. The only survivors, Jericho, Specter, a mare named Juno and a few others, only survived because they weren’t on the field. That isn’t to say there wasn’t a fair bit of tension as a result of the sudden betrayal, but Gramps kept everyone from going at each other's throats until the medics confirmed that the few Division agents left were in fact pony. “So let me get this straight-” Gramps said, pulling me back to the present. “-Kovac is really an earth pony that went and pulled a frankenstein, is well over two hundred years old, is working with West Wind and is apparently responsible for creating an army of synths in secret?” “That about sums it up.” Spike said, his towering stature taking up a sizable amount of the open space in the tent that Gramps had set up for his command post. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get this information to you sooner, like I said to Dusk I had an unexpected guest.” “It’s fine son, we’ll learn to cope.” Gramps said with a sigh. “So let's run down our situation. We’ve got an army of Enclave at the summit of the mountain, and our rear guard was entirely composed of Synths. In short, we’re surrounded.” “We still have the picket, the armor and the Desert Rangers are on their way from Chicacolt. We could try and make a breakout through the rear once they get here.” Dart suggested. “We could… But I’m still not clear on how you got your hair and face back.” I countered, finally adding something to the conversation. “Dusk, that’s not important right now.” “What? I can’t help but be curious…” “Then put the curiosity aside for now.” Gramps retorted. “I need your head in the game Dusk, otherwise I don’t see how we’ll come up with a workable plan.” Before we could get into the details of what such a plan would look like, an armored pony stepped into the command tent. The armor was incredibly old, and looked like a beat up set of royal guard armor that has long since lost its golden luster. “I’m not too late, am I Spike?” The stallion asked, his voice sounding coarse and aged under his helmet. “No, you’re just in time Commander.” The dragon replied. As the armored pony nodded the gears in my head started turning. “Commander?” I muttered to myself. “Well it’s good to see you all again… Suffice to say it’s been a long time since I've last seen some of you.” The mystery pony said as he started undoing the clasps holding his helmet in place. “You’re kidding me…” I said as I turned my attention to the stallion. As his helmet came off I could make out the night sky coloration of his fur, the snow white hair and a distinct area of pink scar tissue where a horn had once been. “I’m not kidding you Commander.” My older doppelganger said as he curled his helmet up under his arm. “Now then, I believe that we have some business to attend to.” Author's Note Now how about that? Kovac's the closest thing to an ancient evil that we've got, Dusk's alicorn genetics finally get reintroduced as a plot point, and apparently his Wasteland Doppleganger is still running around after Kovac claims to have killed him... Just another day at the office, right? Anyway, the next chapter of E-201 will set the stage for Commander Dusk raising Kovac at Spark's request. In the mean time, break the popcorn out, because the end of Broken Mirror is slowly approaching... In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Master and Commander (Arc IV)A Few Miles South of the Canterlot Ruins… “Well this is awkward.” I observed as I studied my doppleganger, all while starting to feel slightly dizzy. Commander Dusk nodded. “You could say that again. It’s not every day I run into a double of myself… Especially one that clearly isn’t feeling too good.” “What do mean?” Gramps asked from his side of the tent. The Commander simply pointed at my feet. “He’s struggling to stand up straight.” “Shit, he’s right.” Gramps said as he took a place next to me, giving me a good and sturdy backing to lean against. “Dusk, are you feeling OK?” “Other than a bit dizzy? I’m alright.” “No… No you’re not.” The Commander said as he started waving his now-glowing hand over me. “Something is draining your magic. It’s not fast enough to prevent you from replenishing your reserves, but it’s constant… When is the first time you felt like this?” I thought about it for a moment before I finally realized where this little problem started. “Probably about a week ago when we went up north. I ended up passing out after a fight, and once I woke back up I was starving.” “Then what the hell… Wait, you’ve got some sort of implant in your chest attached to the back of one of your ribs. I’m seeing some serious concentrations of energy around it.” “That must’ve been put in when I got the augmentations…” I muttered “And I was on ice for so long no one probably noticed what it was doing.” “Back up a minute, what augmentations?” The Commander questioned, looking more confused than anything.” “Oh, the usual when you get prodded at by aliens. Unbreakable bones, vastly improved reflexes, and the unfortunate inability to get drunk.” I retorted. “Right…” The Commander droned. “Anyway, let me fix this real quick.” “Wait, what are you-” BZZT! On reflex I shuddered. It felt like hundreds of pinpricks of static stabbed into me in various parts of my body. As the tingling feeling subsided I certainly felt far more awake and focus, but one other thing just happened to come to mind and needed to be said. “Ow!” “Quit acting like a foal.” The Commander chided as he stepped back. “That magic transfusion should keep you going for at least the next couple days, assuming that you don’t actually use any magic.” “Well thanks…” I muttered in return. “But does anyone have an idea on how we’ll get through the next hour alive? I Dart just suggested a break-” “There’s no need for a breakout when we’re not encircled.” The Commander said, cutting me off rather promptly. “What he turned on the rear-guard was an elaborate illusion spell.” “Illusion spell… Wait a minute, where exactly did he learn it?” Gramps questioned, suddenly perking up at the Commander’s explanation. “From your notebooks.” The Commander retorted. “Um… Can someone elaborate?” Strike asked from his seat on the far side of the tent. “I certainly can.” Gramps replied. “My first assignment in the Guard came when the Minotaur Kingdom launched a surprise invasion of the northeast part of Equestria. I used that spell to make it appear that our battalion was in fact a full brigade. While the illusion made it look like our front lines were intact, the rest of my battalion launched a flanking action. We wouldn’t have been able to successfully drive them back into their territory if I hadn’t done it.” “Then what’s Kovac trying to do?” Comet asked, finally injecting himself into the conversation. “You obviously know quite a lot about him…” “Well let’s see… What do we have pointed right at his forces?” We were all silent for a moment before what the Commander was trying to say hit me. “He wants our armor out of the way.” The Commander responded with a smile and a snap of his finger. “Exactly! When the armor is out of the way he’ll be free to sweep in and tear us apart.” “So the only two things we have going for us is an airship and a bunched up group of armor…” Slowly but surely a smile developed on Gramp’s face. “Gentlecolts, I believe I have a plan.” *** Twenty Minutes Later… As both the picket and the newly-arrived Raptor hovered over the outskirts of what was Canterlot, I began to think. Kovac has to know by now that we aren’t going to turn our backs and expose ourselves… Which means that he’ll do the most logical thing and dig in to whatever is left of the old capital. Granted all that’s left are some chunks of wall and massive mounds of rubble that act as sizable barricades. They’re also excellent shields to hide behind, and I’ll be that Kovac’s forces are mustered behind the mound waiting for us. “You all ready?” The Commander called out from his perch on the back of the lead Valentine. From my spot on the ground next to the tank, I checked my shotgun one last time. The tube was still full. “Ready as we’ll ever be!” “Alright, move it up!” The Commander shouted as he banged the top of the turret with a clenched fist. The tanks shuddered and in what looked like a well choreographed scene the ten tanks that had come with us to Canterlot started trundling forward. We only brought the Valentines because of their small size compared to the Mark VI that we had been galavanting around with after leaving Manehattan. While they were cramped, they were half the length and carried the same gun. It was as they slowly trundled over the rubble that I could see the length come in handy. The Mark VI would have easily gotten stuck because of it’s obscene length, while the Valentines simply crawled up and over the obstacles. “Dusk?” Steeljack asked as he came up to join me. “Does something feel off to you?” “We’re marching into a firefight with two airships hanging over our heads and enough armor to blast most fortresses to rubble. Of course something feels off!” Knowing Steeljack he was probably rolling his eyes. “What about other than the obvious?” As we came up on the crest of one of the larger mounds of crushed debris I looked around. Other than Porter’s marines and the small legion of tanks, there was nothing. No sounds of rifle fire, no soldiers screaming for medics. I stopped and turned around, looking back down Canterlot Mountain from where we had come. “Son of a bitch…” I muttered. “What is it?” Steeljack asked. “What the hell? Where is everyone?” I heard the Commander hollar from his mechanized perch. Suddenly it hit me. “It’s a trap!” I screamed. At that moment all hell started to break loose. One of the tanks on the far side of the formation exploded in a fireball, it’s turret toppling blown off into a roll down the mountain. And the shadows above us changed, disappearing briefly in pinpricks of orange as another Raptor appeared out of thin air above us. All while that was going on rifle reports started echoing out behind us, and the head of one of the marines next to me exploded in a chunky red mist. TAKE COVER! Enclave stormtroopers hit the ground on the far side of the rise, while down the mountain I could now see the red flashes of laser rifles, likely carried by synths that were slamming into the rear of our formation. “We’ve gotta get out of here!” Steeljack shouted over the pops of his rifle. Suddenly one of the stormtroopers got the bright idea to target me. As he slammed into the ground next to me I ducked down to my knees in an instant, just in time for a slashing knife to cut through the air where my face was only seconds prior. “Well would you like to find us a way out of here?” I chided as I planted my boot into the trooper’s groin and sent him tumbling down to the bottom of the mound. “I wish I could!” Steeljack retorted as he knocked down his own opponent. As the two of us ended up back to back, the Commander hit the ground behind us with a thud. “Well gents, it appears that we’ve got company.” “Of course we’ve got-” As I turned around I saw what the Commander was actually talking about. West Wind and his partner in crime Kovac had finally reappeared. “Well then… Round two anyone?” While Steeljack’s knuckles cracked the Commander offered a curt nod. “Kovac is mine.” In the blink of an eye he dashed forward towards the franken-unicorn, faster than I would think possible of most ponies of his apparent age. That left both Steeljack and myself to contend with West Wind and hopefully chalk one up for us on the scoreboard. “So what’s our plan?” I offered a shrug at Steeljack’s question. “I say we wing it…” As if on cue the two of us charged our pegasi opponent. My fist sailed over West Wind’s head as he ducked down, but Steeljack caught him with a knee to his jaw. West Wind didn’t let the hit go unpunished as he grabbed Steeljack’s leg and pulled him to the ground. “Is that the best you can do?!” He yelled as he slammed the sole of his boot down into Steeljack’s chest. With my opponent distracted I took to opportunity to clamber onto West Wind’s back and wrench him away from Steeljack. “Oh I can do a hell of a lot better!” As the pegasi thrashed under me I felt my shotgun get knocked off my back as I wrapped an arm around his throat. “And just what is this supposed to do, you worthless worm?!” “Well Westy-” CRRRAACK! With his head now cocked at an odd angle, I felt West Wind suddenly go limp and slid down against my chest. I did the smart thing and let him go, allowing his twitching body to land face up at my feet. As I stared down at the pegasi I saw his eyes darting around seemingly at random, probably in a panic as the life drained away from his mind. “It’s supposed to do that.” I whispered as I prodded the dying body with my boot. The sounds of war suddenly faded, and I wasn’t standing in the midst of the hell that was the Wasteland anymore. I was standing in a dark lab, where in the center was an operating table. A younger Dusk was strapped to it as West Wind stood over him. “Well now, what do we have here…” The pegasi muttered. “Piss off West!” The younger ‘me’ yelled. West Wind simply rolled his eyes. “You really don’t know how much trouble you’re in, do you?” As a masked surgeon entered the room I could see my younger self shaking his head. “All I know is that no matter what, I am going to-” “Dusk, take cover!” I heard Steeljack shout as I was jarred back to the present. As I whirled around I was faced with an immediate explosion that sent me tumbling down the rubble pile. “Damn it…” I groaned as I felt a distinct throbbing in my left shoulder. Off to my left was a chunk of armor plate from the turret of the tank I had been standing near. Likely it had something to do with the sudden onset of pain. Getting up on my knees, I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye. As if a part of me was suddenly ripped out of my chest, I turned my attention just in time to watch Kovac spear Commander Dusk with a long officer’s sword. The Commander immediately collapsed, with Kovac hovering over him. Off to my right was the only option that I could tap at this point; my shotgun. It’s buttstock had been sheared off, likely by the impact of debris from the exploding tank, but other than that it was still a viable solution. I grabbed it and found that I was having trouble steadying myself, likely because I was still dazed after getting smacked by a chunk of armor plate. As I wavered I realized that I couldn’t use my left arm. It simply wouldn’t move. “Fuck it…” “Dusk, what are you doing?!” Steeljack shouted from his spot up on the rubble pile. That got Kovac’s attention, and from his distance I saw the flash of a pistol, followed by a dim scream from Steeljack as the lead round struck home. But by this point I was pushing everything else out. All that mattered was my weapon and Kovac… BANG! And the round struck home, hitting Kovac clear in the side of his face. As he fell I realized that he was standing on the edge of the cliff that marked the edge of the solid parts of Canterlot’s foundation. I didn’t even process the scream of pain that faded away into oblivion as the stallion fell out of sight. I felt someone tap my shoulder, but I ignored as I scrambled forward, not even actually managing to stand as I made my way over to the old stallion that Kovac had knocked down. By the time I was at his side the sounds of war were clear once again, although not as heavy as they had been previously. “Damn…” The Commander groaned. “He got me good, didn’t he?” He said as he clutched at the dark red hole that was punched through his dull chestplate. “You could say that…” I said as I examined the wound. For a moment, I turned my attention back towards where I had last seen friendly soldiers. “MEDIC!” But my attention was once more retaken by my doppleganger as he grabbed my collar and formed me down towards him. “There’s nothing you can do.” He sputtered, flecks of his blood landing on my face. “Oh come on! So I’m just supposed to let myself die?” I exclaimed. “You’re your own stallion, Commander.” My doppleganger replied, now slightly wheezing. “I’ve lived a long and painful life… And it’s about time that my story ends.” “But-” “No, no but. You’re young, and you’ve got a long road ahead of you. However today ends, you keep going. You understand?” The Commander managed to sputter out. I couldn’t help but nod, knowing where this was going. “I understand.” I whispered. The old stallion smiled, and seemed to relax at that. “Good…” “Commander?” I asked. “Long… Live… Equestria…” And with that, two centuries of pain and experience left us. It wasn’t dignified, or even clean. But it was probably the best ending that my double could have hoped for given the hell he had lived through. Before I got to my feet I took care to slide his eyelids shut, a final gesture of respect to the departed stallion. “Dusk, Steeljack. Where the hell are you two?” Gramps called over the radio. “West edge of the ruins.” Steeljack said into his radio as he joined me. “Why, what’s going on?” “You need to get out of there, that’s what!” Gramps yelled. “That Raptor is coming down, and it’s going to take you two with it if you don’t move!” Looking up I realized that Gramps was spot on. Now with a gaping hole in it’s side, the Raptor that West Wind’s forces had brought with them was slowly picking up speed as it descended towards us. “Steeljack, you have any ideas?” “Just run!” He yelled as the two of us began backtracking through the battlefield. But as the two of us clambered over rubble and blown out hulks of machinery, the raptor above us began accelerating downward. “We’re not gonna make it!” “We’ll make it!” “We’re not gonna-” POP! “-make it?” The sudden flash of light faded, and instead of being surrounded by death and destruction, Steeljack and I were surrounded by ponies sitting at consoles as the floor under our feet banked to the left. “Helm, get us clear!” Turning around I saw Porter standing behind Gramps, seated firmly in the captain’s chair that centered E-201’s bridge. “Talk about good timing.” He observed. Outside were the sounds of crashing metal and rapturous explosions. But listening to Gramps, and putting together the fact that Steeljack and I were now standing on the bridge of the picket, I couldn’t help but feel confused. “Uh… So then who saved our asses?” Author's Note Well what do we have here, another chapter? Yes, as a matter of fact it is another chapter! Nifty, right? So Commander Dusk is dead, as anyone who saw the preview knows... If you only just found out and are going "Striker, what the hell man? He didn't even stick around for two full chapters!" Just know that the bad guys don't stay dead... Take that as you will. In the mean time I'm on to the final chapter! WOO! It's almost over!!! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Out of the Fire (Arc IV)Ten Hours Post-Canterlot Battle Neighfair It’s finally over… West Wind is dead. Kovac is dead. The war is effectively over and we can all work on finding a way home. But while those of us that survived through the failed trap at the Canterlot Ruins are celebrating, burying our dead and securing all of the equipment that was left behind here at Neighfair, I’ve been sitting in the now-empty control room on my own for hours. Darkness had long since fallen, leaving orange-tinged lights partially illuminating the control room from their place on the outer walls of the fortress. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” “Steeljack…” I muttered, keeping my focus on the central courtyard of the fortress where festivities were continuing well into the night. “Alright, something’s up.” He said as he leaned against the table next to me. “We won and you’re up here moping like an abandoned puppy.” “Did we really win?” Looking over at Steeljack I could tell that he was confused. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” “Ya, kinda.” “Alright, well look at it like this. We thought we killed De Witt, that Griffon we took on a few years ago. Yet while I thought that my parents and Gramps were dead they were off tangling with him. We thought that West Wind was killed a few weeks ago, yet he shows up with a giant space gun and tries to destroy Vanhoover. Right now we’re two for two on bad guys coming back from the great beyond Steeljack, so I really don’t feel too good about our odds. That, and we still don’t know who teleported us out of Canterlot before that Raptor crushed the two of us…” “Fair enough.” Steeljack admitted. “And you still need a way home…” I thought about what Steeljack just said for a moment, and it hit me like a sack of bricks. “You’re staying behind?” Steeljack nodded. “That’s what I’m planning to do. I have an opportunity to be with my family, and I’d be stupid to pass it up.” “I can respect that.” I said as I started turning over my shotgun in my hands. “It won’t be the same without you, you know that? You were family to me when I thought I didn’t have one, and you stood with me when death was knocking at our door… I’ll miss you.” “Well at least I know I did something right…” Steeljack admitted. “So what are you going to tell Don about his shotgun?” I swung the weapon off my back and looked at the sheared off stock long and hard. “I honestly don’t… What the hell?” My eyes finally fell on the ejector port of the weapon, with a translucent white casing jammed in it. Steeljack saw what I was looking at and deftly plucked the obstruction out of the weapon. “This is a shell from a bean bag round…” “Well who loaded them?” I spat. “I got those things in Manehattan because they were cheap, but I only grabbed a tube’s worth.” Steeljack handed me the shell and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? We haven’t seen a body left over from Kovac…” “He’s gotta be out there somewhere.” I said, getting up and walking over to the window. “Damnit… Steeljack, we’re not ready for another fight. Not by a long shot.” “So what do you suggest?” “When we find a portal home, you need to destroy it behind us. That’ll buy us some time to get ready for Kovac.” “And just what are we supposed to do? Just sit around and hope he doesn’t come after the lot of us here?” Steeljack questioned. “I mean come on, we’re talking about a stallion who can make an army of robotic pony duplicates and we still don’t know how he made them or where they were really hiding.” “Damn Steeljack, I just don’t have any answers… But maybe that’s a good thing.” Looking at Steeljack I could tell that he was confused. “You mind bringing me up to speed on the how?” “Well lets assume that Kovac nabs one of us and somehow figures out what sort of preparations we’ve made for his return-” “Assuming he thinks along those lines.” “Right. But if I don’t know you’re plan, and you don’t know mine, then neither of us can rat out the other.” I explained, feeling slightly more at ease given the rather concerning trend that stands to be followed. “Only you could find a silver lining in a shitty situation…” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well one of us needs to be positive.” Suddenly Steeljack’s radio crackled to life. “Steeljack, where are you?” “Command center, why? What’s up?” “Well find Dusk and get down to the armory. We’ve found something.” *** “Son of a bitch…” That’s all I could bring myself to say as Steeljack and I strolled into the now emptied armory. No more artillery pieces or vehicles, the lot of them having been rolled out into the courtyard… But there was a giant section of wall that was missing that revealed a large and familiar shape. “That looks just like the mirror we found in the Badlands.” “And it gets better.” Comet said as he led the two of us over to a control station. “Everything is unlocked. We’ve got full access to the system.” The three of us were silent for a few moments. We had unknowingly been using Neighfair as our temporary home, and it came with a direct route away from this hellhole of a destination. “Well I guess this explains the synth now, doesn’t it?” Steeljack pointed out. Thinking back to that robotic monstrosity that we’d run into when we arrived, I’d have to admit that Steeljack was right on target. West Wind, and by extension Kovac, were probably using this fort as an embarkment point before we arrived. When we made contact they obviously thought that it would be a good idea to cover up their prior presence within these old stone walls. “Just how’d they hide this thing?” I asked. “An incredibly powerful illusion, likely of Kovac’s design.” Comet replied. “With him not around anymore to maintain it, it probably just ran out of juice.” I bit my tongue and nodded. “So can you power it up?” Comet nodded. “It’s already running through it’s boot-up cycle. We should be ready to go in another minute or so.” “Well I guess this is it then…” Steeljack muttered. “Gents, it’s been an honor.” “Likewise Steeljack… I take it you still remember our plan though?” The grey stallion nodded. “There should be enough ordinance left over to blow this popsicle stand, assuming of course you guys leave something for the rest of us.” “Right on… Porter! Front and center!” I yelled. On cue the yellow marine came running into the armory. “Yes sir?” “Tell your men we’re pulling out. Leave a few crates of high explosive artillery shells but take everything else. If it isn’t bolted down it’s coming with us.” “Uh… Where are we going?” I just pointed at the quantum mirror, now starting to light up as it finished it’s sequence and rolled my eyes. “Do I REALLY need to explain?” Porter just looked at me, over at the mirror, then back to me before saluting and running out into the courtyard to rally his men. “Damn… I guess something good did come out of this whole trip after all.” “And just what was that?” I just smirked and offered a slight shrug. “A lackey who doesn’t talk back.” As the mirror finally powered on, it’s silver glow lit up the armory like a high-output LED. “Alright, I’ll go through and let them know that we’re coming. Steeljack, wait five minutes and then send the first group through.” “I’m all over it.” Steeljack replied as I marched away. Standing at the foot of the mirror, I could almost make out the translucent image of the empty chamber on the other side. Come to think of it this is the first time I’ve really studied these portals in detail… I know how to use them, how to fix them and, most importantly, how to break them. But I’ve never taken in the details. Oh well, there’s a time and a place for everything. I stepped through and while the glow of the portal remained, above me was a massive hole, revealing the early morning Equestrian sky. “Well that’s something…” I muttered. Someone had also built a rather sturdy ramp up to the surface, likely our ponies who wanted to cart out anything of value that was down here. “Alpha One, this is Sierra-104. Do you copy?” I unclipped my radio and started walking up the ramp. “Alpha One here Spartan, mission successful. West Wind and his forces have been eliminated. We’re coming back with significant amounts of material and personnel, and we’ll need airlift support.” “I’ll see what I can arrange… But we’ve got other problems. You and General Meteor Shower are needed back in Canterlot.” Down below Porter’s soldiers were already starting to file through. “Hey, one of you go back through and tell the General to get up here! On the double!” Turning back to my radio I continued walking out into the open courtyard of the destroyed Enclave fortress. “He’s on his way Spartan, just tell me where you plan to pick us up.” *** Canterlot Castle Two Hours Later… “Welcome back General.” “Thank you son.” “Sir!” “Good to be home, son.” This new and annoying trait of the Guards dropping what they were doing to address Gramps was already annoying after the first two out in the garden. But we’ve since gone past ten more of these poor sods and they just won’t shut the hell up. It’s fricking annoying! But as our Spartan escort, a gent named Fred, led us into the Castle’s command center the greetings stopped. Officers were surrounding a large holotable, lit up blue with a map of some island. But they were actually ignoring the three of us. “Well this is nice…” I muttered. “Alright, who does that naggy wife of mine want me to fight now?!” Gramps yelled, drawing the attention and confused looks of all the officers present in the war room. And I was among those with confused looks. “Uh… What?” “Well don’t you know you’re ancient Equestrian history? Anyone who-” “Meteor!” As the old Stallion was interrupted by the sudden arrival of the solar princess herself, he stopped his verbose line of thought on a dime, only to obviously pick up on another one that was just as confusing and annoying. “Honey, I’m home!” Celestia of course ignored Gramp’s sudden shift to the annoying, walked over, grabbed his ear and dragged him over to the holotable with Fred and I in tow. “Do you recognize this island?” Gramps shook Celestia off him and turned to study that translucent blue map of light. “That’s Carniola…” “And it’s also your next assignment.” Celestia said as she tapped some keys on the side of the table. Whatever she did marked off a large swath of beach in red. “Twelve hours ago Captain Baxter initiated Operation North Star in cooperation with the Griffon government. The goal was simple, while our military retook the island the Northern Guard would eliminate the Griffion commander.” “De Witt… He finally took full control of the island, didn’t he?” Gramps asked. Celestia nodded. “Sadly he was fully prepared for our landings. The Northern Guard has been badly beaten, and our marines are barely dug in on our beachhead after being bombed out of their positions in the city of Emona.” “Let me guess, rocket artillery?” Celestia nodded once more. “We didn’t expect him to actually have any…” “So you ignored all of my reports and intel. That’s just wonderful!” Gramps snapped. “How many injured? How many ponies did we waste?” “So far there’s only been one casualty, a mare with the Northern Guard… But… Damn it. Meteor, De Witt brutalized her. It’s Cloud Runner all over again.” The pegasi’s name rung a bell right off the bat. “Woah, back up. Cloud Runner? What’s he got to do with this?” “I’ll tell you on the flight out.” Gramps replied. “So when do we leave?” “Immediately.” Celestia replied. “I’ve already been briefed on the material and soldiers you’ve brought back with you… HMS Redoubtable is picking them for redeployment as we speak.” “Alright, I can deal with that.” Gramps said as he wheeled away from the table. “Wait, we only just got back. Can we at least catch some sleep or something?” I asked. That got Gramps’ attention. “Dusk, we don’t get the luxury of sleep until the blood stops running. So come on… We’re going to war.” Author's Note See, there we go. The final chapter of Broken Mirror! WOO! A quick and clean ending, and a segway into Blaze Squad's introduction into the Carniola Theater (along with a few easter eggs relating to The Long Road). And this sets up an eventual Meteor Shower prequel story, which I'll probably start working on over this winter. Next up will be the first few proper prologue chapter to Reflections. My buddy Marik is already working the cover art, and so far the sketches are LIT! Stay tuned! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Sins of our ForefathersPonyville Outskirts Cloud Runner Rolling around in bed half asleep made me realize something. I’m all alone. “Sky?” I groaned. “You up?” I sat up in bed and looked around the moonlit room, realizing I was the only one present, accompanied by a note on my bedstand. Swinging over to sit on the edge I grabbed the note and read it over. “Cosmo had an emergency?” I wondered aloud before I put the note back where I found it. How long ago did she- KNOCK! KNOCK! And another good question. Who’s trying to bash my door in at this time of night? A quick walk to the front door revealed my annoyance of the evening, as Sombra had broken out his key to let him and my father in. “Do you two know how late it is?” I asked. “Not the time.” Sombra brushed past me and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels with the remote. “You need to see this.” Finally the news came on to the video of a burning factory. “-and we still have no word on where the aircraft came from.”The camera panned away from the burning building and to a reporter standing on an abandon rail line. “Whatever the case-” An explosion erupted behind the reporter that threw her and the camerapony to the ground before the feed cut out. “What the hell was that?” I asked. “Something attacked Manehattan within the last hour, and your sister and brother-in-law are missing.” Dad answered. “I… I don’t know what to do.” “Just watch Storm.” I said as I pulled out my cell phone and dialed up Sky. “Come on, pick up…” I muttered as the phone buzzed away. “Hey, this is Sky. Leave a message” BEEP “Sky it’s me. Call me, alright?” I flipped the phone closed and tossed it down on the coffee table. “Come on Cloud, you’re retired.” Sombra insisted. “Semi-retired.” I reminded him as I marched off to my office. I strolled in and slid open the door to the walk-in closet by my desk. As the door hit the end of the track it triggered the lights, and my power armor appeared to glow under the soft white light. The back was open just like I had left it. “Cloud, come on.” Dad tried to plead as I stepped into the armor, followed by the clinking and hissing as it sealed itself shut. “You haven’t gone out for years. Why now?” “Sky isn’t answering her phone and someone is bombing Manehattan.” I retorted as the armor powered up and I stepped forward. “What am I supposed to do? Just sit here?” “You’re supposed to use your head!” Dad groaned. “What about Dust?” “What about me?” Finally, Dad realized the elephant in the room and whipped around to face my son, Dust Storm. “Grandpa, Dad… Did I miss something?” “Dust…” Dad muttered as he wrapped his grandson in a hug. I stood over the two and patted my son’s bedhead down. “Dad’s gotta go save the world kiddo.” My son nodded up at me. Dust never did have a problem with me and Sky running off to do Goddess knows what. Let’s be honest. It’s damn good bragging rights to say that you’re parents are veritable superheroes. “So Grandpa’s staying here?” He asked. “For now.” I said. “I’ll see you later kiddo.” Right off my office is a sliding glass door. Having done the same motions countless times before it wasn’t long before I was rocketing away from my house and headed skyward. With a flick of my wrist a map appeared on my helmet’s heads up display with a blinking red dot. “Just sit tight Sky… I’m coming.” *** The Grotto Dusk I just shook my head. “Say again Blue Leader?” “You heard me boss. Looks like a squad snuck out.” “Just fucking great…” I muttered. “Eagle, do you have eyes on?” “Negative Commander. Thermals can’t see anything through that smoke.” “Understood. Eagle, remain on station. Blue Flight return to base.” “Acknowledged sir.” Turning my attention to the video feeds of the old wire factory my heart sank. I know that Kovac is a threat… But I’m destroying what was my home. The news feeds didn’t make me feel much better as they showed the burning façade of the old brick building. “What are you up to Kovac?” “So you don’t know?” I whipped around as a tired-looking Cosmo strolled into the command center. “Kinda hard to wager a guess. Probably revenge for shooting him in the face?” I suggested, turning back to the displays once more. “Hell, maybe he’s out for resources? If he’s been building synths like he was he was before he might be running the reserves dry. I just don’t know enough right now Cosmo.” “Then tell me this.” He said. “Back in Carniola, you were calling these guys the Second Division. After that the unit was disbanded and the members when goddess knows where. What happened? And better yet how’s Specter still alive? I was there when he got shot.” “Well… Have a seat then.” I insisted. “At the very least I owe you some-” “Red Alert!" Came Dart's voice over the loudspeakers. "All hands to action stations!" “Answers later?” I asked. Cosmo nodded and swung open the door out in the hall, only to face down to equine-shaped beings armored in cream-colored plating. “The fuck is this?” He muttered. Immediately the leader whipped around and kicked him in the gut, knocking him back into the room. I looked from Cosmo to the equines out in the hall before I rolled behind one of the consoles with my pistol ready as one of the attackers ran after me and latched onto the collar of my armor. “Big mistake fucko!” I jumped back to my feet with the attacker still clinging to me and backpedaled him into the wall. Cosmo had already gotten up and was going blow for blow with the other, ducking wide swings before one slammed into the wall and shattered a section of concrete down to rebar. I wheeled around just as Cosmo leapt over the computer and slugged the attacker clear of my shoulders. “Well that was something!” I yelled as I caught the next swing from Cosmo's dance partner and slammed him down into one of the consoles. “You think?!” Cosmo yelled back as he struggled to keep a knife away from his shoulder. “Exactly!” I said as I drew out my pistol. Dropping into SATS slowed down the world around me and highlighted the attacker in a pale green glow. I cued up three shots and watched as they slammed home and showered Cosmo in sparks. “Goddess...” Muttered Cosmo as he shoved the dead body off him. “What the hell are these things?” A quick glance at the exposed circuitry proved my suspicions. “These would be synths.” “No shit?” He pulled out his revolver and put a round square in the busted android's chest. “That's from me you shithead!” “Angry much?” I asked. Cosmo glared at me before pointing at the crater in the wall. “I nearly got pulverized. Fill in the blanks Dusk.” “Dusk?” I turned to face the synth that I had smashed into the console and saw the android staring at me through it's shattered visor. “My my, you've been busy. You've even figured out how to be in two places at once!” “Kovac...” I growled. “Where are you?” “Why visiting with your double of course. But be honest with me, did you get lazy when it came to the colors?” Wait a minute, colors? “You leave my daughter out of this you piece of shit!” Cosmo yelled. “Oh, a new player!” Kovac's voice exclaimed. “So here's the game Dusk. I'll be taking minime back to Manehattan. To get her back you simply need to come there, disarm the havoc beneath the building and escort me to Canterlot with it. Simple enough?” “I'd say so.” I simply slammed my armored fist against the side of the synth's head, silencing it. “Dart, you read me?” “Heard everything. Jammer is up and running so Kovac can’t call for backup. Trust me, he's not taking Archer without a fight.” “Oh I believe it.” I muttered. “What about the fighters?" “I diverted them to the Griffon airfield just over the border near Vanhoover. Galland will have them rearamed and refueled, then send them back with some of theirs.” “Good. Keep me in the loop.” I clicked the radio off and looked over at Cosmo. “So are we gonna go save your daughter or what?” *** Location Unknown Archer What’s my name? Something to do with a bow and arrow… Archer, right. Wait, why did I have a problem remembering? “Because you grabbed a mind-altering magical artifact, you dolt!” It took me a minute to realize that yes, someone had indeed yelled at me and was standing right in front of me. “Now that I have your attention Archer, what about personality changing didn’t you understand?” I just cocked an eyebrow before finally remembering who was standing in front of me… Assuming you can call this fog cover a floor. “Dusk? Uh, what happened?” I’m obviously missing something that he’s trying to get across, considering the poor stallion is just giving me a blank stare. “Right… Timestream…” “What are you blathering about?” Dusk rolled his eyes before pulling a stool out of… Wait, where’d he get a stool? “Alright Archer, here’s the deal. I’m dead… At least I think I am. Now I don’t want you to end up like Caliper after he used that orb, so I decided to invite myself on in and make a few changes to how the spell works.” “That’s fine and dandy Dusk, but I got one question.” For some reason I felt compelled to sit down and found that I now had my own stool out of… You know what? That really shouldn’t be the big question. “Who’s Caliper?” “Caliper was a prisoner.” Dusk said curtly. “He was in jail for pony traficking, most notably my fiance Dart.” He stopped and looked at the ground for a moment before turning his attention back to me. “Or is it ex-fiance? I’m not too sure-” “Focus!” I yelled. “Who is Caliper?” “Right…” Dusk muttered. “Now I’m going to gloss over a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo here, but he’s the first pony to use the memory orb after I created it. It’s through his testing that I discovered the mental aftereffects.” “Alright, how could it be?” I asked. “He went to Manehattan, stripped naked in the middle of Central Station, cut off one of his ears and stuffed it up his ass before blowing his brains out.” I just nodded while Dusk’s expression seemed to darken. “But that’s not our main issue. Kovac’s Synths are coming for you Archer.” “How do you know?” “Just trust me and follow your instincts kiddo. We’ll talk more later, now wake up.” Immediately everything faded to black and I realized that I was lying in a bed with my eyes shut… And it was quiet. Very quiet. My eyelids slid open and I instinctivly wiped away whatever crust had built during my now-apparent nap. But on the very edge of my vision something stirred, and I recognized the sky-blue figure almost immediately. “Mom!” I tried to swing out of the bed and get to her, but I stumbled against the tangled sheets before smacking into a cold body that took a place between me and her. “You will come with us.” It said in a gravely voice. I glanced between it’s armored face and my mother before I did the only thing that came to mind. I lept back against the side of the bed, using it as a lever so I could lift my legs up and plant them against my uninvited guest’s torso and kicked. The force sent ‘him’ tumbling back into the wall with a resounding CRACK. “You want to run that by me again?” Something about the two friends that ran into the room with some sort of guns leveled at me tells me that, yes, they do in fact want to run that by me again. As the leader of the pair quickly closed the gap between the two of us I waited, watching as he raised his rifle and started swinging the but of the rifle down towards me. But the rifle wasn’t even halfway through it’s downward arc before I stepped out of the way and wrapped my arm up around the rifle and twisted it out of the pony’s grasp and steaded the butt against my own shoulder and pulled the trigger. BFZT! As the first pony fell I swung the sights onto the second and pulled the trigger again. BFZT! The second shot did something I didn’t expect; the second pony lit up in a blue glow before… Disolving, falling to the ground in a neat smoldering pile of ash and pieces of body armor. Rifle still in hand I slid over to my mother’s body and stuck my ear to her chest. “Still breathing…” I muttered. But this just brings up more questions. Was Mom trying to protect me from whoever those ponies were? Better yet why is Kovac interested in me? ...Doesn’t matter, I can’t stay put. What’s to say that there aren’t more of those ponies crawling around down here? “Well hello. It’s Archer, right?” I wheeled around with the rifle up and found myself face to face with the one-eyed stallion that crashed the party earlier in the evening. “I got to admit, I wasn’t expecting Dusk to have a protoge.” I shrugged and felt a cocky grin begin to grow across my muzzle. “Sorry to disappoint.” Kovac simply offered a chuckle. “My dear, I’m not disappointed.” He slowly pulled a nighstick out from the back of his belt and twirled it around a bit. “I’m impressed.” That look on Kovac’s face made my blood run cold and alarms in the back of my head started screaming at me to do something. So I did the only sensable thing that came to mind; I blasted Kovac square in the face and shoved him away from the door, and with speed I didn’t think I was capable of I swept down, scooped up Mom and ran right out the door. *** The Grotto, Main Hangar Cloud Runner You know it’s really hard to miss giant gaping holes in the side of a mountain, especially when there’s a bunch of smoke pouring from the entrance and wreckage is littering the mountain face. But that’s not even my main question; where the hell did Dusk get the money for a secret underground lair? I know the colt’s rich and all, but a massive hangar with guns and ships and who knows what else is a bit over the top. It was relatively easy to glide in through the open hole and land in the hangar next to two smoldering wrecks, which looked eirily like some sort of plane. My attention was shortly diverted from the wrecks by the echos of gunfire that came from the far side of the hangar. “Bring it on you wankers!” Wait a minute, I recognize that accent. I tapped the side of my helmet and a small window popped up. “Call Felix.” I whispered. My suit’s VI did the rest and dialed up the fox from my contacts. The line didn’t ring long. “Cloud, now ain’t a good time!” Came a distressed voice over helmet speakers. “Well I was just calling to tell you get you head down.” I said as I clicked the safeties off on my gauntlet’s laser emitters. “Wait, get our heads down?” Felix was silent for a moment before the reality of what I was saying hit him. “Sky, hit the deck!” I leapt up over the flaming wreckage and saw Felix and Sky running across the hangar as three ponies, one of which was sparking out of the side of it’s head, chased after them. “Cloud, they’re robots!” Sky yelled as she slid around a crate with Felix. “So no moral consequences?” I yelled back. “Count me in!” I landed in front of the sparking leader and did the only sensible thing that came to mind; I stuck my gauntlet in his face and flicked my wrist. BAMF! The laser went off and blew a hole straight through the thing’s helmet and out the back of it’s head in a shower of red and yellow sparks and melted slag. I ducked under the robot on the left’s attempt at a pistol whip and went for the one on the right. “Too slow!” I wrenched the other’s rifle out of it’s hands and snapped it on my knee. “Now get out of my inlaw’s cave!” I stepped back enough where I had the room to grab the two robots by the sides of their heads and smashed them together in a shower of sparks and more slag. I smirked under my helmet as the two piles of scrap slumped to the ground. “I still got it.” The release on my helmet clicked before being tugged away. “Damn right you do.” Sky swung around my shoulders and planted a quick kiss on my lips. “Now please tell me you got someone to watch Dust.” “Dad and Sombra have it covered.” I assured. “Now what the hell is going on here?” “Honestly? Dusk has some serious trust issues.” Felix snapped. “I mean come on! Who the hell thinks he needs a private army to take on one old stallion with a bunch of robots?” “What are you talking about?” “Remember that party that Dusk invited us to that we decided to skip?” Sky asked. “Of course I do.” “And do you remember how he told us about that stallion from the Second Divison who tried to kill him on that Wasteland trip of his?” Ah, I remember that feeling now. Deja vu. “So one of Dusk’s skeletons came back to try and enact his revenge because… Reasons?” “That’s about the size of it.” Felix retorted. “And trust me, there’s probably more of those cheeky bastards running around in here.” “Then what’s our plan?” I looked around the hangar, hoping to get an idea. “Better yet, where is everyone?” “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Yelled a golden and blue blur as she ran past. I turn my attention to the direction from where the blur came from and sighed. “Hey Felix?” I said as I checked over the emmitters on my gauntlets. “Ya?” He replied, sliding a fresh magazine into his pistol. “You’re a fucking jinx.” I said as I pulled my helmet from Sky’s grasp and slid it back on. Once the display kicked on it highlighted the five ponies walking towards us from the opposite side of the room, led by a one-eyed stallion in the front of the small crowd. “I’ll take the leader, you two take his cronies.” “What makes you think you’ve got him?” Sky asked. I just shrugged before dashing forward. Almost as if on que, everything around me seemed to slow down. An old teacher told me it was called ‘Spartan Time’, an ability fed by the increased perception my augmentations provided. But this stallion that I was rushing for was moving at what appeared to be normal speeds as he stepped off to the side and slammed his fists down into the back of my armor. “So you’re the famed Tempest?” He wondered aloud. “And here I thought you’d be a bit more challenging.” “I got my own surprises.” I growled, rolling away from the foot of this stallion and jumping up to my feet. “Anyone tell you that you’re fast?” I asked, tossing and missing a punch as the old warrior stepped back out of my reach. “So I’ve been told.” He retorted as he cocked the side of my helmet with the butt of a pistol. “Now are you-” BAMF! While the older stallion was distracted I managed to catch him in the chest with both of my gauntlets and knocked him backwards. “Told you I had some surprises of my own.” I chided as I charge forward and slammed into Kovac’s torso. I felt his hands bash against my back and armored wings, but I kept charging until the two of us crashed into the concrete wall that lined the back of the hangar. That impact got me to stop for just enough time for Kovac to push me off and blast me with some sort of kinetic spell, sending me tumbling head over heels across the hangar as the helmet display flashed system failure warning after failure warning. “Call Phalanx.” I managed to grunt as I felt someone grab the collar of my armor and toss me into a pile of crates. BRRING! BRRING! BRRING! “Come on, pick up…” I muttered as I managed to get back to my feet. “Cloud?” Phalanx groaned out over the line. “Do you know what time it is?” “Time for you to come save my-” I didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence as Kovac whacked the back of my helmet with some large tool that was lying on the ground. "You came out of retirement, didn’t you?" “Semi-retirement!” I snapped. “Now can you help or not?” “Give me two minutes.” I rolled my eyes as the line clicked dead. “Probably don’t have two minutes…” I muttered as I was hauled back to my feet and planted into a wall. I ignored Kovac as he kept throwing punches at my helmet and focused on the failure warnings. Booster failure, weapons misfire, navigation error, and other similar messages blinked in and out of the message window on my HUD. But one stood out; structural integrity comprimised. Goddess, what’s this fucker throwing at me? My anwser finally came when the lens of my helmet cracked and finally shattered as Kovac threw two final punches before ripping my helmet off and tossing it away. “Anything else you have to say?” Kovac asked as he put a knife to my throat. When I noticed the familiar pony that had snuck up behind him I just smirked. “Well ya, don’t turn around.” “What?” Kovac staggered before being tossed to the ground a few feet away. And the reason, that saviour that decided to show up early, was standing over Kovac. “I’ll handle this joker Cloud.” Phalanx called out as his eyes started to glow a faint emerald green. I’m in no mood to argue with that. I scooped up my helmet off the floor and dashed across the hangar to where Sky and Felix were just finishing up the last of the four robots they were taking on… And by finishing up did I mention that it involved Sky ripping the thing’s head from it’s shoulders? “We good?” I asked, stepping over the two other sets of dismatled remains. “We’re-” “Hit the deck!” Felix yelled, hauling the rest of us to our knees as a body flew overhead and slammed into the concrete. “Hey Cloud?” Phalanx groaned. “Yes Phalanx?” “Is there any specific reason you were able to surive fighting that bastard?” He grunted, clutching the lower part of his chest. “Just call me lucky.” I retorted as I turned away, staring down the stallion that was stalking his way towards us. “How long do you think that luck’s gonna last?” Sky asked. I just shrugged and took up a defensive stance. “We’re about to find out.” *** Dusk “I guess we missed most of the party.” I muttered as I hopped over the wreck of what was one of my fighters, nearly tripping over two ponies huddling behind the wrecked fusilage. “No, not really.” Archer said as she crawled out from behind her cover, as her mother poked her head up over the side. “Oh thank the Goddess!” Cosmo said with an air of relief as he wrapped his adopted daughter in a tight embrace. “Yup, don’t need to breathe or anything.” She groaned. Now this right here doesn’t look right. “How are you even awake?” I asked. “That orb should’ve had you out for at least another day.” Archer just offered a shrug and picked up her rifle off the ground. “No clue, but I’m not too picky.” “Where’d you get that?” Cosmo asked. “Ripped it away from a synth before Kovac came to visit.” Archer snorted. “Now can we please go take this guy down?” Right, Kovac is still in the building. Might want to- “Hit the deck!” Cosmo dove to the floor just as a grey stallion sailed over our heads and crashed to the ground behind us with a clatter of loose metal. “Fuck! He spat out, struggling to get off the ground. I looked over at the beaten form of Phalanx as a slow realization hit me like a sack of bricks. Here is one of the most powerful stallions that I have ever known, and he’s clearly been getting his ass handed to him. “Dusk, what’s your plan?” Cosmo asked, accompanied by the nearly silent sounds of brass sliding into their places in a stainless revolver cylinder. I finally turned to face the object of my problems for the evening. Off behind him I saw my future brother-in-law slumped against the wall by the main elevator. “I’ll keep him busy, you just rally the troops.” With a flick of my wrist the shield indicator on my HUD came to life, filling up and flashing a pale blue within seconds. “Here we go…” Once the dampers in the armor unlocked I charged forward, crossing the empty floor between myself and Kovac in a matter of moments. I swung out my right arm but caught nothing but air as Kovac simply disappeared. As some massive force slammed into my back I managed to wheel around and grind to a halt. Standing across from me was a glowing-eyed Kovac, who I could rightly assume was the reason my shields had simply dropped to zero. “Come on Dusk, do you really think that I wouldn’t see that one coming?” “Would’ve been nice.” I retorted, opting to rip the pistol from the strip it was sticking to on my thigh. BANG! BANG! BANG! Kovac ducked around the three bullets I managed to get off before he slammed right into me, sparking fist and all, and knocked me onto my back. “Well I did my job. Goodbye Dusk.” I managed to get to my knees just in time to watch Kovac and the few Synths left in the hangar teleport away. “Damn it!” “You alright?” Cosmo asked as he jogged over and tried hauling me to my feet. “Could be better.” I groaned. “Everyone still in one piece?” Cosmo nodded as Cloud and Sky joined us while Felix ran past to go check on Phalanx. “For the most part.” He replied. “Now when was someone going to bring in on this?” Cloud asked as he wiped some dirt off his face. “Honestly? I was hoping that this little hole in the wall would prove to be a waste.” “So was really Kovac?” Sky asked. I nodded and pulled off my helmet. “Certianly was him.” “Then I don’t think I need to point out that we’re outmatched.” She said. “You’re preaching to the quior Sky.” I retorted. “So you have a plan?” Cosmo asked. “I think I do.” I said. “Cosmo, go call your brain trust.” *** The Grotto Control Room Archer I think I sat in the corner of the control room for the better part of three hours before Dusk finally walked back into the room. He had ditched the armor he was wearing and swapped for a pair of jeans with a black shirt. “Alright, everyone here?” He yelled. Towards the front of the room Cosmo’s mother Constellation and my ‘Uncle’ Storm Cloud both got up. “Took you long enough.” The older mare chided. “Now how badly did you fuck up where I need to clean up after you?” “Mom, can you not do that now?” Dad asked as he came in behind Dusk, helping Phalanx hobble along. “Goddess…” She muttered and ran over to help Phalanx. “What the hell happened?” “Kovac.” Dad said. “That old ghost came crawling out of the woodwork.” “Dusk?” “Yes Consti?” “I though you said Kovac was dead.” Dusk just shrugged. “Well I was right to think that he wasn’t.” “And that’s why he built a secret base and raised a small force of mercenaries.” I added. “Or did I miss something?” Dusk shook his head and walked towards the holotable at the front of the room, waving for the others to follow. But I didn’t, or maybe I couldn’t. I started feeling a bit weak and slumped back in my chair as everything grew a bit darker and faded out of focus. “Well, welcome back kiddo.” I shot up in my chair and realized that I was still in the control room… Except it was empty. “You’re the ghost pony… Thing... Right?” “Absolutely.” The ghostly version of Dusk said. “We never did really cover the part on how I died, did we?” “Nope. You said you thought you were dead and told me to wake up.” “And you finally passed back out after the adrenaline wore off.” He retorted. “At least the synths are gone, so we’ve got time to work with.” “Wait, what are you talking about?” Dusk just sighed. “Dart, it’s complicated. Look, I’m going to die. Hell, I’m already dead.” “But I was just giving you a snarky remark not even a minute ago.” I pointed out. “Well that’s what happens when you blow yourself up when you’re in between universes.” Dusk spat. “Archer, look… You’re the best pony around to succeed me. I just need to get you ready.” “Ready for what?” I asked, most certianly with a puzzled look plastered across my face. “Dusk, what are you trying to tell me?” “I’m trying to tell you anything Archer.” Dusk assured me. “I’m trying to show you how this crapshoot got started.” “Alright… How are we doing this then?” “Just relax.” Dusk said as the world around me began to fade to white. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you.” Author's Note And there it is. After plenty of time writing, revising, and seeking inspiration (in addition to the regular fuckery), I've finally finished and published the prologue of Broken Mirror Part II. I'd like to extend some thanks to both Pia-Sama and Volrathxp. For now the focus will turn back to finishing The Long Road, which has two or three more chapters left before it's finally tied off. Anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker Dawn (Arc II)The Northern Wasteland, Village Ruins When Porter said there was a crane in the cargo hold he wasn’t kidding. I wasn’t just staring at some hoist, but an honest to goodness crane that looked more at home on some construction site than in the belly of an airship. Lucky for us it was already hooked up to a metal pallet, so we could in theory all hop on and come up from the wasteland below at one time. And with the bridge at the other end of the hallway I would be surprised if Porter couldn’t get to the controls in time to lift us away from whatever horrors awaited us below. As Gramps shoved the pallet out of the open sliding hatch in the floor I came to the realization that we weren’t all that high off the ground, that fact being reinforced by the audible thud I heard as the pallet hit the ground below the airship. “Are we even going to need rappel?” I asked. Gramps didn’t say anything, instead opting to pull a familiar shotgun off of his back and hand it to me. “From this height? Probably not. It would probably save time to just jump down and cushion the fall with a telekinetic spell.” “Uh… You can do that?” I asked. Gramps is far older than me and had significantly more training in the use of magic over the years than I did, so he would be the one to know if that's a possibility. “Well I can.” The old stallion replied as he grabbed my collar. “I just don’t do it all that often with two ponies.” “Wait, what?” I didn’t get an answer as Gramps dove down through the hatch dragging me out with him. All it took was three incredibly long seconds for me to realize that I had landed feet first in snow that barely reached my ankles. Off to my left Gramps had pulled out his revolver and had loaded three rounds into the cylinder before swinging it closed with a flick of the wrist. “Well I’d mark that off as a success.” “You call jumping out of the bottom of an airship a success?” I snapped. Gramps just rolled his eyes. “You didn’t break any bones. Did you?” “I don’t think I can.” I retorted. “Fine by-” Gramps stopped mid sentence and whirred around. “We’ve got incoming.” He said as he leveled his revolver. I shouldered my shotgun and pointed it towards the underbrush. “What makes you say that?” “EFS has two blips.” Gramps replied. EFS should be able to determine friend from foe… “Are those dots red or yellow?” I asked. Gramps must’ve cocked an eyebrow at what I had asked. “Does it make a difference?” As two ponies stumbled out of the brush and fell to the ground in a heap I nodded. “Damn right it does.” I ran over to the collapsed bodies and felt a wave of relief smack into me. Kovac was right on the money with his tracking trick, and both Specter and Jericho stumbled right back to us. Specter forced himself off Jericho and rolled onto his back to stare up at me. “Fancy seeing you here.” He groaned. I reached down and hauled the bruised stallion back to his feet. “I could say the same thing.” Specter stopped and motioned for my help as he knelt down to pick up a very weak Jericho. “How did you two get away from the furies?” As the two of us got up with Jericho hanging limply between us on his arms Specter shook his head. “I don’t think we actually got away. I think they’ve been tailing us since we escaped the outpost.” Well that’s a problem. “So then why haven’t they made a move?” I asked. To my surprise Jericho stretched his neck, proving to me that he wasn’t unconscious as he appeared to be. “They like to play with their food.” Jericho muttered. “Play with their food…” Oh shit. I fished out my radio and clicked it on. “Porter, are you on that gun?” “Roger that.” The stallion called out over the channel. “You might want to hurry it up down there though, I’m seeing some movement in the woods all around you.” Well that's just great. “Light em’ up Porter!” I yelled and started dragging Jericho towards the makeshift lift. Even over the wind I could hear the turret motors whine as it spun around in search of clear targets. “Alright, here we go!” Above us I heard distinct series of thuds followed by the sounds of bullets flying at nearly the speed of sound smacking into the trees. “What the hell?!” Specter exclaimed in shock. “Just go with it!” I yelled as I pushed the two stallions onto the metal slab. “Porter, I’ve got two ready to come up.” “Copy that Dusk, stand by.” Gramps pushed Specter down onto his rear and pointed at the cables that were anchored on each corner of the pallet. “You’re gonna want to hold on to one of those.” Specter didn’t argue as the cable went taught and pallet began ascending towards the unseen picked hovering over the clearing. *need howling noise* “Sounds like the furies are mad.” I observed. “Well we did just steal their chewtoys.” Gramps added as he swept the revolver around. “Other than that it’s just another day at the office.” As I saw the bushes begin to shake around as furies moved about through the brush I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Those are some famous last words.” I joked. Gramps nodded and smiled. “Phalanx said the same thing at Midlothian Ridge. But there’s one big difference in play here.” “And what would that be?” As the first fury charged out of the brush Gramps grabbed it and pulled it in close with his telekinesis. “These feather brains are outclassed.” With one fluid motion he swung the pistol barrel up under the chin of the Changeling and clicked off the safety. BANG! As the first fury’s brains sprayed out in all direction the rest of the furies must’ve gotten the memo as at least five of them charged out of the brush. The slide on my shotgun slid without any resistance and put the first round into the weapon’s chamber. “Here we go!” As the first fury got within arms reach I swung my left hand out and grabbed it by the throat. As it struggled to get closer I saw a second one come rushing in off to my right. “Big mistake buddy!” I yelled as I pointed the shotgun towards the rushing equine. BOOM! The gun kicked back hard with nothing to hold back against the recoil of the twelve gauge buckshot, but those little white hot balls of lead hit home, striking the second fury square in the chest. With that out of the way I tossed the first fury to the ground and chambered a new round. BOOM! The entire spread of shot blew a gaping hole in the fury’s back. There wasn’t any sign of movement so I wheeled around to help Gramps… Only he looked entirely fine. He had already dealt with his second attacker judging by the body on the ground with it’s head at an odd angle. His third opponent was being pelted by a barrage of fists that ended as Gramps swept his legs out and forced him onto the ground. “Sorry about this.” I heard him mutter as he aimed his revolver right at the fury’s chest. BANG! As the fury went limp in he snow another important thought came to mind. There were far more than four furies back at the outpost. To our luck though the pallet hit the ground empty at that very moment. “Come on you two!” Porter called out over the radio. Gramps and I both took places on either side of the pallet. Both of us grabbed the central cable just as it tightened under our weight and began to lift us away from the ground. As we were only a few feet off the ground a dozen furies came charging towards us from the brush. “Sorry kids, we’ve gotta go!” Gramps yelled as he aimed his revolver with his free hand. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! I only saw two furies fall to the last of the rounds in Gramp’s revolver but by the time they had reached where we were standing our method of escape was already too far out of their reach. As our ride finally arrived in the cargo hold of the picket another issue came to the fore; Jericho. In the brighter lights of the ship I could see that his jacket was no longer the same brown it had once been, but was instead a dark maroon. Specter was hanging over him trying to put more pressure on the stab wound he had sustained during our failed escape from the outpost. But then Gramps pushed the young stallion out of the way, scooped Jericho’s limp body up and marched out into the corridor. I was just as dumbfounded as Specter clearly was before following Gramps on instinct. I didn’t say a word as we entered the Captain’s cabin. Gramps had laid Jericho down on the bunk and had already pulled off his coat. But he was fighting with the body armor he wore underneath it. “Specter?” Gramps called out. “I need a hand here.” Specter pushed past me and joined Gramps at the bedside. The two began whispering inaudibly, so I decided it was a good time to take my leave. As I stepped onto the bridge I saw that Porter had moved to the helm. Clearly he had laid in a course as his attention had turned to an old black leather-bound book. “What are you reading?” I asked. Porter closed the book and turned around in his chair. “Steadfast’s log.” He said. “Steadfast…” I muttered. “You mean the Captain?” Porter nodded. “He was defintely busy after I saw him last.” I took a seat in the Captain’s chair and nodded. “Well his ship got up here somehow, didn’t it?” “Oh it did.” Porter replied. “But he took a few side trips before even heading north.” Sidetrips? In the postwar world? “Like what?” “Like saving the early Enclave from an attack by a Zebra-controlled Raptor, coming across the last surviving ministry mare…” Porter droned. “But they never went to the reseach base.” “There must’ve been a reason to abandon the original plan.” I pointed out. Porter nodded. “There was. They found survivors in Poneva City.” Poneva City… I can’t say I’m entirely familiar with the name. “So the crew went native then and moved in with the survivors?” “Not quite.” Porter explained. “They were trying to protect them, and from what I’m reading here him and Spark-” “Spark?” I asked. “He wouldn’t happen to be a white unicorn, woud he?” “He certainly was.” Porter replied. “And he was the first officer on this ship.” Now we need to cover something. I’ve met a white unicorn named Spark who proceeded to get himself blown up on the Chicacolt. Only hours ago I was face to face with a snow fury wearing his face as a mask, and now I’m hearing that the first officer assigned to this craft went by the same name and had a similar description. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that the universe is trying to tell me something. “Something wrong Dusk?” Porter asked. He must’ve seen that I was rather confused and was deep in thought after my last question. “It’s probably nothing.” I insisted. “Now you said they found something?” Porter nodded. “You’re gonna want to stay in that seat, because this is going to take a while.” *** Three Days Later, Neighfair The last few days have been a great success, that much I can say without question. Gramps was able to stabilize Jericho just at the last minute. The stallion had lost a lot of blood and his wound was starting to show signs of infection by the time we returned to Neighfair. And damn did we return. The moment we started walking down that ramp off the picket every single Division soldier that saw us arrive came running. By now they all knew what we had left for, and when Porter held up both of those activation keys over his head the entire crowd erupted in cheers. Those two keys were a symbol of our very first major victory in our campaign against WestWind. Jericho was immediately spirited away to an infirmary and Kovac made his way onto the ship. As he put it the Marines at the salvage yard have had enough of a rest. In a matter of hours we had the entire unit out of cryo and Porter was giving orders and directing operations to pack up every single piece of stored equipment. I stuck with him for the whole two day ordeal, getting plenty of surprised looks and greetings from marines who I didn’t even recognize. Porter of course tried to bring as many of his soldiers up to speed as he could, using the ten ferry flights from the facility to Neighfair as time to brief them. He even did a good job of clearing out the second deck’s mess hall, turning it into an excellent briefing amphitheater. By the end of the second day I was simply beat and finally saw myself in a mirror. The armor I was wearing was burnt clear through to the human-designed undersuit that I never got rid of. With that in mind I procured a Marine off-duty uniform and exchanged my destroyed armor for it temporarily. After that I found a bunk and slept until almost noon time today. And what’s happening today? “So explain this to me again.” Kovac said. “What did they find in Poneva?. It was time to debrief, and with Jericho still bedridden that briefing took place in the otherwise empty infirmary. And now we’ve come to the part about Steadfast’s logbook. Porter did explain everything, even letting Kovac read the book in the middle of the meeting. I took a moment to look around the room and noticed that in a cup in the center of the table that was brought in was a red and white candy cane. With nothing better to do I grabbed it and started twirling it around my fingers. “From what I can tell Steadfast didn’t know much more than the crew. But what he’s describing sounds almost like some sort of ghosts.” Kovac chuckled. “I’m sorry, but ghosts?” Porter nodded. “Those ghost were using some seriously messed up magic. And with the city’s proximity to the Crystal Empire he seemed to think that something from there had something to do with it.” At that word I stopped paying attention and let my mind wander. For whatever reason I kept thinking of two ponies, and it was rather clear. They were in the middle of a firefight of some sort. I couldn’t see who they were fighting but I could make out the details. The stallion of the pair was clad in a ramshackle Stable jumpsuit wearing nothing else but a scarf as he blasted away with a ten millimeter pistol. I couldn’t tell what the mare was shooting, but I took note of her candy red fur and a mane that was filled with white stripes. To be completely honest it reminded me of that very candy cane that I had picked up. Something about that image made me feel better about what I had learned about Poneva. Sure there’s something going on up there, but even if Steadfast’s crew had failed to solve the problem it was these two that for whatever reason I was picturing as having something to do with the solution. Suddenly a pair of yellow fingers snapped right in front of my face.“Equestria to Dusk!” “Right, sorry” I said as my attention returned to the meeting at hand. “You were saying something Kovac?” “I was wondering what you thought we should do about this.” The Division Commander asked. “You’ve had a lot longer to think about this development than I have.” I thought back to my daydream for a moment before putting the candy cane back in the cup. “I say we leave it.” Kovac raised an eyebrow at my rather simple opinion. “Alright… Why? We’ve potentially got some sort of supernatural force running rampant up there.” Again thinking back to my daydream I leaned back in my chair and smiled. “Because even if Steadfast’s crew failed I’ve got a good feeling that the problem is well at hand.” I stopped for a moment before leaning forward and resting in my elbows. “Furthermore we’ve got a far bigger problem at hand and we’ve seen no sign that this supposed dark influence has done anything south of Poneva. It’s just not worth our energy to pursue.” Kovac simply nodded. “Then we’ll consider it a dead issue.” He said as he got up from his chair. “In the meantime I’ll be in the command center. Feel free to come see me if you need anything.” As Kovac left the room I began to think back to the information about the tracking crystal imbedded under Specter’s skin. Said stallion was sitting silently next to Jericho’s bedside, the two of them having simply listened to our discussion. “Specter, can I ask you something?” He simply nodded. “Did you know that you had a tracking crystal planted on you?” Judging by both his and Jericho’s confused looks I’d say they didn’t know. “I’m sorry, but a tracking crystal?” “Yes.” I said. “Kovac gave us the frequency it worked. That's how we found the two of you.” “Did he say why he had one on him?” Jericho asked. I nodded as I thought back to our radio conversation. “He said that it was to find Specter if he got lost in the valley outside of the mountain base.” Jericho furrowed his brow, glanced up at Specter before turning his focus back to me. “Dusk, I raised Specter after his parents died. Believe me, the only time he left the base was when we attempted our Manehattan expedition a few years ago.” Now I have another reason to be concerned about Kovac’s revelation. Here I have the father figure of Specter’s life telling me the exact opposite that Kovac had. And where I was already questioning his explanation I think it's safe to say that I can’t trust everything I’m hearing out of Kovac’s mouth. “You three do realize that we can’t let this discussion leave this room, right?” “Can I just point out how crazy that sounds?” Porter stated. “Just as crazy as a makeshift tracking radar?” I said in return. “Wait, tracking radar?” Jericho said. “The mountain base doesn’t have anything to even build a radar with, let alone power and maintain the equipment. It wasn’t considered priority when building it.” I just had to look at Porter to get an affirmative nod out of him. “So it’s settled then. If anyone outside this room asks this conversation never happened.” But even with that decision in mind I can tell that everyone assembled is a bit worried. I can’t rightly blame them… Because it looks like we may need to watch out for more than just the Enclave in the days ahead. Author's Note And there, ladies and gentlemen, is the end of Arc II. We see Dusk starting to grow wary of Kovac in the wake of revelations regarding his "tracking crystal" information, as well as a nod to Rising Dawn with Dusk's daydream during the debrief at the very end of the chapter. At this point in time Dusk is still young and prone to a wandering mind when bored, something that hasn't really been seen until now. Rest assured we'll see that again eventually. Up next we'll see another Interlude to bring us back to the present day, where Archer will have some questions to answer as to whether she truly is "alright", followed by the Comet and Strike story arc "It Takes a Village". I'll probably hold off on publishing that one until I can get a cover made for it. In the mean time take a look at Fallout Equestria: E-201. Originally it was just going to be Steadfast's journal entries from immediately after the Last Day, but after deciding that the chapters are missing something I'm starting to add in stretches of dialogue to break up the journal entries and add some context to them. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Solid Foundation (Arc I)Beach, just outside Neighfair Dusk The closer we got to the walls of the old fortress the more I started to realize how big the old base really was. “Equestria to Dusk, you home?” I glanced over at Dart before turning my attention back to the walls of the base. “Ya, I am… Just thinking.” “I’m assuming you got a lot on your mind.” I nodded and finally turned around, leaning against the hull of the boat. “Take Comet for instance. He seems so…” “Confrontational?” “Ya.” Dart leaned against me and sighed. “Comet went back on active duty a week after you were captured. Strike followed a few days after that... “ “Something tells me there’s more to this than you’re saying.” Dart nodded. “Comet has a bad habit for picking fights, and Strike has shown some serious mental instability. The two of them are good in a jam, but beyond that…” I just nodded. “Beyond that they’re just good for giving you headaches.” “Exactly.” I felt the boat shudder as it rode up onto the sand, alongside a rotted dock. “Then let’s forget about them for now.” I hopped over the side as a few of the soldiers dragged the boat onto the beach. “Blaze Squad, form up!” I made my way up off the sand to the head of the old dock, where the rest of the team shortly joined me. “So what’s the plan Dusk?” Comet asked half-heartedly. "Well you, Strike and Specter are sticking with Gramps and getting this beachhead running. Steeljack and Dart are with me.” “And where are we going?” Dart asked. “This is a military base.” I pointed out. “We find the control center and see what we can get working.” “Right, along with hotshot over there?” Comet jabbed. “What’s to say he won’t-” “Shut the fuck up Comet!” I yelled. “I can take the occasional jab. But since we got to this damn city it’s almost like you’re on your period!” Comet and Strike both exchanged glances before Comet walked back down to the beach. “That seemed a bit harsh…” Dart muttered. “What?” I exclaimed. “What did we just talk about back on the boat?” “Doesn’t matter.” Steeljack added. “Rule one of dealing with those two… Don’t snap at them.” I just rolled my eyes and started my walk up the crumbling steps of Neighfair’s main entrance. And the closer I got the more I began to feel that something was a bit- “We got casualties.” Steeljack said as the main door finally came into unobstructed view. He was right of course; four skeletons wearing tattered olive-drab uniforms lay just feet from the main entrance. I knelt down and managed to find a rusted dog tag on the corpse closest to the door, but the pitting and rust made the name illegible. “What do you think Steeljack?” “They’ve been here a while.” He replied as he knelt down and grabbed the old dog tag from me. “Probably died when the bombs or shortly after from the radiation exposure.” I got up and walked up to the door, stopping short of shoving it open. “Then how the hell would this protect them?” If Steeljack made any moves I didn’t see them. All I saw was his boot knocking the old wooden door off it’s hinges with a crack akin to that of breaking a bone. “Right…” I swung the shotgun off my back and clicked on the flashlight that was on the side rail. “I’ll take point.” *** “Anyone see anything?” I whispered as I moved my flashlight across the empty room. “Just more dust.” Dart muttered back. That's when I heard the click of a circuit breaker before the lights in the room came on, along with the rapid succession of lights coming to life in the hallway behind us after so many years of laying dormant. “Found the main power!” Steeljack yelled from a utility closet tucked in the far corner of the room. I shut the flashlight on the gun off and swung it onto my back. “How the hell does this place still have power?” I made my way over to the utility closet, stopping short of pushing Steeljack out of the way when I read the label on the breaker. “Secondary Generators… Steeljack, was that off?” “I just reset the breaker.” He answered. “Honestly I didn’t think anything would happen.” “Talk about good luck…” I muttered back. “But you know what else uses power?” “There’s a bunch of shit I could list, but I’m going to assume that you’ll tell us anyway.” I felt a wry smile grow across my face and decided to roll with it. “Computers. Specifically the ones that are probably in the control room.” “Ya…” I heard Dart whisper. “Inventory, base defenses, everything would be right at our fingertips.” “And we just need to find it.” I pointed out. “So… Ideas anyone?” “There must’ve been a floor plan for a place this big.” said Steeljack. “Find the plan, and we can find the command center a whole hell of alot easier.” “Well why are waiting around? Let’s get going!” I walked across the room to a closed door and half mindedly threw it open, only starting to pay more attention when I realized that there was something in the hallway staring back at me. And judging by the gun it was pulling off it’s waist, whatever the hell it was isn’t all that friendly. “Contact!” Steeljack yelled as he pulled me back into the room and slammed the door shut. "What the hell was that?” I asked. A fist punching right through the door didn’t help answer any of the questions that were swirling around in my head. “No idea.” I heard Steeljack mutter as the pony-shaped thing demolished the door that separated us. “Dart, you want to find out?” Click “Damn right I do!” Dart rushed forward and managed to whack the creature with the butt of her gun. It staggered slightly at the impact, but managed to swing it’s rifle around and clip Dart’s shoulder with it hard enough to knock her into the wall. “Dart!” I yelled. “Alright bucko, you asked for it!” I closed the gap between the two of us and slugged the creature’s face, followed by a strong throbbing sensation that ran down my arm. “Puny pony.” The creature growled as he wrapped a hand around my throat. “Ya… Real puny.” I grunted as the creature picked me up. “You know who else here is puny?” “He’s probably talking about me.” Steeljack jumped on the creature’s back and started wrestling with it’s mask. “Now come on, what are you hiding?” I managed to finally break out of the creature’s grip and unhooked the latch holding it’s mask on. “Come on bud-” Once I flipped the mask off the creature’s face I found myself stopped dead as I caught the glare of its yellow eyes. “What the hell? Steeljack backpedaled away from the creature and similar questions must have been rattling around his head. “That looks like a pony.” He wasn’t kidding. Whatever this thing is, it looks like a pony. Instead of fur or even skin, his face was made of some sort of plastic with some seams along the side of it’s head where it met other pieces of the same material. As it leveled it’s weapon at us I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “It looks like it wants to kill us.” Steeljack continued to show he was in rare form today as he ripped me out of the path of the plasma bolt before he stepped in and ripped the gun away from the creature. It tried to catch him with a right hook in response, but Steeljack caught the fist and managed to wrench the creature’s arm around and toss it to the ground. “That was too easy.” That’s when Dart stepped in and planted her boot on the creature’s chest. “You’re right.” She stuck her gun to it’s head and clicked off the safety. BANG! For a brief moment I shielded my eyes from a bright flash that came from the creature’s head, letting my arm down after my eyes readjusted. At Dart’s feet was the creature, .issing it’s head with sparks arking off the exposed wires coming out of what was it’s neck. “It’s… It’s a robot.” Dart muttered. I walked over and picked up a piece of the skin-like material that once coated the robot’s face. “We should call this in.” Ten minutes, that’s how long it took for the rest of the team to reach us. For the entire wait I kept running a single question through my head; who makes a robot that looks like a pony? “Dusk?” I glanced over at Specter before returning to my thoughts. “Pay attention Dusk!” A quick shudder got me to break my trance and allow me to focus. “I’m sorry, what?” “I was saying I’ve seen something like this before.” Specter droned. “You have?” “That’s what I’ve spent the last five minutes going over.” The annoyed stallion retorted. “I’ve heard a few different names… Android and cyborg are some common ones.” “Some common ones?” I asked. “Is there anything else?” “There is.” Specter handed me a piece of the facial material. “Synth. I don’t know who came up with it, but I’d wager it stands for synthetic pony. They’re some sort of blend of machinery and fake flesh meant to look like a pony.” “Someone has to make these things.” “And no one knows who’s responsible.” Specter replied. “These things just pop up in weird places for no apparent reason. This is just the first time I’ve heard of a synth showing up in an old military installation.” “Specter, do these things run in groups?” Gramps asked. Specter shrugged. “The only time I ran into these things back in Manehattan they were operating in a platoon-sized unit… So I’d have to say yes.” “Then the odds are good we’re not alone.” Gramps muttered as he pulled out his radio. “Jericho this is Meteor, come in.” Bzzzttt… “Jericho, please respond.” Bzzzttt… “That doesn’t sound very reassuring.” I heard Comet mutter. Gramps shook his head and tucked his radio back into his ammo pouch. “Steeljack, Specter, you two come with me. We’re going to go find Jericho.” “So we just stick with Dusk?” Strike asked. “Sure, why not.” Gramps muttered as he led Steeljack and Specter back down the hall towards the entrance. I glanced at Comet and Strike before looking over at Dart. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?” Dart offered a shrug. “Probably not.” *** “...So, see any good movies lately Dusk?” I stuffed down the voice in the back of my head yelling to smack Strike into next Tuesday for the umpteenth time in what seemed like forever. You see he picked up an annoying little tick after he returned a few years ago. From what little Dart whispered to me as we made our way through the base he had spent some significant amount of time in solitary confinement, so the psychological explanation was an underlying need to make sure that he wasn’t locked in a small room all alone. She also mentioned the reason for his inability to fly; some scientists had removed parts of the bones in his wings and replaced them with some sort of metallic alloys. While the doctors said he could fly with some rehabilitation, he couldn’t seem to make progress and gave up about a year before I got back. “Hey Dusk, you still there?” Strike droned. I rolled my eyes. “Yes Strike I’m still here. And no I haven’t seen any good movies on account of being cut open and being stuffed in a freezer when I wasn’t being used as a living pincushion.” “Oh…” For the rest of the walk Strike kept his mouth shut… With my luck I either pissed him off or brought him to the point where he might start crying. You see that’s the problem with ponies you know are mentally unstable; one minute you’re they’re best friend while the next you’re public enemy number one. Eventually we reached a staircase capped by a metal trap door at the top. “Anyone want to place bets on what’s up there?” Dart asked. “Who gives a fuck?” I asked as I charged up my horn and blasted the hatch up into the room above us. Dart rolled her eyes and clambered up the stairs with me right behind her. Daylight was streaming in from the windows that lined the walls of the room. Conveniently, the room was full of terminals that offered quite hums as they sat waiting for inputs from ponies that were long dead. “I think we found the command center.” I slid down onto the stool next to one of the larger consoles and started cycling through menus. “Base defenses, communications array… Radar?” I muttered, trying to rationalize how ponies who never invented transistors might have gotten working radar. “Wait, they have radar?” Dart asked as she stuck her head over my shoulder to check the screen herself. “I wonder what else they have…” She backed out to the main menu and went into the menu list. “Here we are, inventory.” The listing came up with a small map of the base in the corner. A hangar on the far side of the base was starred on the map. “Let's see… We got three armed vertibucks, fifteen UCs-” “Whatever those are.” I pointed out. Dart nodded. “Anyway we got those, a warehouse full of spare parts, about ten thousand gallons of fuel and an armory with enough guns and ammo to arm a full-strength battalion. And where it looks like no one got onto the base since the bombs dropped… We’re about to make out like bandits.” I got up and made my way over to the side of the room overlooking the inner confines of the base and spotted the hangar on the far side. “Within teleport range…” I muttered. “Hey Strike?” “What’s up?” The pegasi asked as he took a place next to me. “Oh nothing…” I said as I charged up the spell. “We’re just going on a field trip.” I grabbed Strike and in an instant the two of us crossed the vast space between the command center and the storage hangar. I glanced over at Strike for a moment and realized he was steadying himself on the hangar door. “I don’t suppose now is a good time to mention that I’m not all that good with teleporting?” Strike asked sarcastically. I shrugged and motioned for him to help me haul the door open. Two centuries of rust, dirt and other debris slowly gave way as the door ground and shuddered along it’s track. We eventually stopped it with just enough space for a pony to slip through. “Just follow my lead.” I stepped into the hangar, focusing on the stream of sunlight that came in through the cracked hangar door. The two of us slowly made our way deeper into the hangar, past field guns plastered with surface rust and some sheeted vehicles. "Talk about heavy artillery…” Strike muttered. Behind me a light clicked on and it’s associated beam was slowly moving across the hangar. “You think those guns would still work?” “Probably.” I walked over to one and ran my finger along the inside of the barrel. It came away coated in a waxy grease. “Someone prepped these things for long-term storage… Just clean the preservative out and we should be able to use them.” I stepped away and kept walking deeper into the hangar. At the end was a large object under a silk-white sheet. “What do you think it is?” Strike asked. I hesitated for a moment before pulling the sheet away. As I studied the craft I felt a smile begin to creep across my face. “It’s our lucky day Strike.” I ran my fingers along the inside of the barrel of the chin-gun of the heavily armed Vertibuck and came away with the same preservative that lined the field gun’s barrels. “It’s our lucky day…” Author's Note And there, ladies and gentlemen, is the first official chapter of Broken Mirror Part II! While it's not the longest thing I've written, it sets up next chapter's events rather nicely. And our first encounter with a Synth... Granted that's just one, but later on we'll be seeing more of those nasty buggers. In the mean time I started writing a one shot as an in-universe explanation as to why Dusk has been showing up in Fallout: Equestria - Mending Hearts and most recently Starlight Glimmer Looks for Love (where, I might add, in his brief appearance Dusk had a mental breakdown that I can totally see happening under the right circumstances). As such expect to see Blueblood get tormented by omnipotent beings. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Dawn's Early Light (Arc I)Neighfair Military Base Dusk Twelve hours; that’s how long I was in that storage hangar pouring over that vertibuck. Scraping preservatives out of tight spaces, checking electrical systems, shocking myself on said electrical systems, getting my mane caught in the same tight spaces I was trying to clean out… Long story short, I’ve been making myself miserable. A night’s sleep in the cockpit of the vertibuck didn’t do me any good, especially while covered in grease and dirt. So here I am, wandering the halls of the base looking for working showers so I can get all this crap out of my fur and mane. Yet all I found were Division troops wandering around the base getting power back in working order, fixing leaking pipes, clearing trash, and burying the long-dead former residents of the base. In that way I found myself down at the river by the main entrance to the base attempting to exorcise the filth from my body, my boots, barding and associated undershirt laid out on the concrete wall at the head of the beach while I was up to my neck in the lukewarm waters of the Chicacolt River. “Too bad I don’t have some decent soap…” I muttered, distracting myself with the tedious task of trying to drag the grime out from under my fingernails. The less than stellar ‘soap’ in this instance was filled in role by a piece of steel wool that I had pilfered from a toolbox in the hangar. After another few minutes of helpless scrubbing I decided abandoning the feeble attempt at grease removal was the only logical recourse if I wanted to have any fingernails left. Dragging myself out of the river I cast a quick spell over myself and my pants, a simple heating spell that I learned as a child, to dry the water that clung to my fur and garments. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?” I glanced up at the head of the damaged pier and caught the glare of Kovac, the Stallion technically in charge of this whole operation. “It would be better with working showers.” I retorted. “I know the feeling.” He called down. “Now get dressed, we got a general staff meeting in twenty minutes and I want you there.” “Alright, I’ll put on the Sunday’s best!” I called back as I pulled on the undershirt. After a few minutes fighting with my barding, I managed to strap on the shoulder pads and abandoned forgot about getting on the other pieces, instead tucking them under my left arm as I clambered up the slope from the river back to the main entrance. As I walked into the main entryway I tossed the unused barding into the pile of equipment that Gramps had been developing the prior evening. With nothing to stop me I simply rolled up the sleeves of the undershirt as I made my way through the halls of Neighfair’s outer ring. After a few minutes of walking though the dull and repetitive hallway I came across a set of stairs with a hatch at the top; the control room. The hatch had been left open by whoever had gone through last and the discordant sounds of ponies arguing spilled out and became more audible as I got closer to the top. “-is madness!” I heard Jericho yell as I finally made it into the control room. “We’ve all seen the reports-” “What reports?” I asked. “Because unless I missed something I did get an invite to this little tea party.” I saw Kovac tap a few buttons on a computer terminal before a large map of the Chicacolt area appeared on the main monitor. “We just discussing-” “-Assuming you can call it that.” Jericho interjected. “Right… Look, we were going over some reports that came in this morning from a recon flight.” Kovac punched a few more keys and a number of red dots appeared on the map, many of them at the mouth of the Chicacolt river, with a number of others lining the shore about five miles away from Filly’s Pier. “Overnight a large number of raiders positioned themselves on the riverbank, and they seem to have brought friends.” Kovac’s fingertips flew over the keypad once more and the map was replaced with a large picture of the mouth of the river, centered around a flotilla of boats. “Somehow within the last forty eight hours the raiders that called Filly’s Pier home gathered some friends and more weapons, centered around the large ship in that picture.” “It’s an old cruiser, assuming one could call it that.” Jericho added. “The configuration matches known files for one HMS Chicacolt, an old protected cruiser that was retired to the breaker yards about ten years before the Last Day. It was a one off, obsolete even when it was built. According to what records we have in our archives it looks like she was built primarily for coastal patrol and gunfire support on lightly-defended beaches.” “And somehow it’s still in one piece after two hundred ten some odd years in a ship-breaking yard, assuming it didn’t get pulled out immediately after the Last Day.” Kovac finished. “Now she’s at the mouth of the Chicacolt river with a small flotilla of old tugboats, fishing vessels and barges. All appear to have been weaponized to some extent with machine guns, belt-fed grenade launchers, mortar tubes, and a handful appear to have been mounted with howitzers and boarding ramps for beach landings. Long story short, it looks like they want the fortress.” “It’s one hell of a prize…” I muttered. “How many of those raiders are on the ground?” “Maybe one hundred on the riverbank, about four hundred spread among those ships.” Jericho said. “Minus the combat losses we took at the pier, and we’re at two hundred fourty combat-ready personnel.” “We’re outnumbered, although we hold a better position.” Kovac pointed out. “Our objective needs to be to strengthen our position further. Dusk, I believe you found a sizable number of field pieces in that hangar you’ve been living in?” “Artillery? Absolutely.” I retorted. “But those things are full of grease, same deal with the other weapons in the hangar. We need to clean all of them out before we can use them.” “Figures…” Kovac mumbled. “Juno, get whatever engineers that you can spare on it. I want as many of those guns combat-ready as possible.” “Alright, I’ll get right on it.” The mare said, immediately as she ducked down the hatch and left the control room with one less inhabitant. “Now does anyone else have ideas?” Kovac asked. “We need to buy us some time, that much is clear.” Jerico pointed out. “Anyone got ideas?” The room went silent as all eyes turned to the map, my own included. “We need a diversion.” I finally muttered. “Something to get all of them to go to one place and stay there for an extended period of time.” “You’re right Dusk.” Said Kovac. “And I think you just volunteered for a little field trip…” *** Banks of the Chicacolt River, Two Hours Later Four Miles from Filly’s Pier Dusk “Neighfair to Alpha Team, status report?” I glanced over at Steeljack and Dart before I sighed. “Alpha Team here, we’re in position.” Our position, understandably, was the upper level of an abandoned office building, not far from the Raider’s camp. All three of us were crouched by a broken pane-glass window that overlooked the riverbank, from where we could see the glint of sun off of the metal hull of the ships farther up the river, and the smoke of campfires from the camp drifting lazily through the air. “Copy that, stand by. We’re going to drive some of those raiders your way.” “And they don’t tell us how they plan to do it…” Dart groaned. “Doesn’t matter.” Steeljack said curtly as he slid a clip into his rifle. “I got a group headed our way along the riverbank.” I ducked around the edge of the window as if acting on reflex. “You think they saw us?” The sounds of breaking glass of windows on the floor below us was all the answer I needed. “What do you think?” Steeljack droned. “I get a feeling that you didn’t know we were bait.” Dart pointed out. “We were just supposed to tell Kovac how the distraction, whatever it was, was working.” I retorted. “Judging by those raiders horrible aim, I’d say we’re supposed to be the distraction.” “That’s not very reassuring.” I heard Steeljack mutter. “Then we’re in agreement.” I said. “Neighfair this is Dusk. What are we doing here, just giving those raiders targets?” “What raiders? There shouldn’t be any near your watch point.” “Tell that to the ones shooting at us!” I snapped. “Steeljack, can you get a good look at em’?” My grey furred companion tried to get a look out around the wall, but the sounds of lead striking the concrete and steel of the wall offered the excellent suggestion to duck back behind the wall. “You want a brief and witty observation or a full report? Because I don’t see either happening right now.” I could only roll my eyes at Steeljack’s snarky rebuttal. “Can you at least tell how many are down there?” Steeljack offered but a slight shrug. “Three, maybe four, hunkered down at the edge of the river. Maybe a few more wandering around, can’t really tell from right here.” “Well that’s better than nothing.” But that statement didn’t hold; the door behind us by ponies that we hadn’t yet seen and a small black cylinder was tossed into the room.”Flash-” BANG! The flash of light that accompanied the small grenade’s cannon-like report caused me to stumble, enough so that I landed on my ass in a pile of old ceiling tiles. “SINCE WHEN TO RAIDERS USE FLASHBANGS?” I screamed over the ringing in my ears. “WHAT?” Dart hollered. That’s when I had a sudden tingling sensation in my ears, and the ringing stopped. “Can all of you just shut up?” Another mare yelled from across the room. “See, I told you guys that they aren’t Hellraisers.” “Of course we’re not Hellraisers!” I spat as I wiped some of the dirt from my eyes. “And judging by the fact that we’re not all dead I can assume that you’re not with those raiders up the river.” “Wait, you’re telling us that the battleship-” “It’s a cruiser.” I interjected. “Whatever!” The mare spat. “You’re saying that raiders brought that thing here?” “Is there an echo in here or something?” I quipped. “Yes, those ships are controlled by raiders. Same deal with the camp up the river.” As I studied the mare I began to recognize what they were wearing; older riot gear, leather-covered plates of metal patching missing chunks, all topped off with worn out tan dusters. “You’re all Desert Rangers, aren’t you?” Steeljack asked, apparently having come to a similar conclusion. “What do ya know, they recognize us!” The mare exclaimed. “How do they know who we are?” One of the masked stallions asked, throwing the mare’s I’m-The-Greatest moment right to a fiery doom. I shifted around, trying to find footing, but stopped when two of the remaining stallions pointed their guns right at my face. “Does the name Cosmo mean anything?” I asked. “Cosmo…” The mare muttered. “All of you, lower your weapons!” She shouted, shoving her way forward and dragging me to my feet. “How do you know that name?” “He’s a friend.” Steeljack said as he managed to force himself between myself and the mare. “We can talk about it more later, but right now I need your name.” “My name?” She asked. I rolled my eyes, my thoughts turning back to the echo comment from a few moments ago. “Yes, your name. I’m Dusk-” “Well that’s convenient…” She muttered. “Why’s that?” “We were sent to deliver you a bunch of pre-war and immediate post-war military files.” The mare retorted. “Some real old stallion with more caps than I’ve ever seen showed up at our camp, gave us the files and all the caps with the sole condition that we deliver them to the ponies in the old base at Neighfair. Said you were with them.” I glanced over at Steeljack who reflected my concerned expression before returning my attention to the mare. “How long ago did you meet this stallion?” The mare offered a shrug. “Month and a half, maybe two months ago. Honestly I can’t put a finger on it.” “You’ve just been walking that long…” I said, getting a simple nod to confirm the veracity of my assumption. “Steeljack, Dart, am I the only one getting worried here?” “Am I missing something?” The mare asked. “You are.” Steeljack pointed out. “We haven’t even been here a week.” “Which brings up another question.” I added. “Who knew where we would be today two months ago? God, assuming he or she exists?” “Beachhead to Sunny, come in.” I watched the mare fish a radio out of her jacket and flip the antenna up with her thumb. “Sunny here, go ahead.” “Those ships are pulling up anchor and we got raiders moving on our position. Wrap up your leftovers for later, we gotta move.” “Got it, we’re packing up.” She said before tucking the radio back into her jacket. “You all heard Sandstorm, time to go!” The three of us only stood and watched as the group of mercenaries fled the room into the depths of the building. “Should we follow them?” Dart asked. “What do you think?” I retorted as I swung my shotgun over my shoulder and broke into a run. “Sunny, wait up!” It took a minute to catch up with the group of rangers in the depths of the building; by the time we found them half their number were in a waiting room, guarding the rusted and dented door to the building’s elevator. “Trust me, we aren’t going anywhere.” She said with a smirk. “We’ll have to squeeze the rest of us into the next car, so I hope you don’t have a problem with tight spaces.” DING! “I think we can manage.” I replied as the doors slid open. “So how’d you get this old thing working?” As we filed into the car Sunny pointed out a spark battery that was wired into the control panel. “I got that one there running the car controls, and a new battery in the backup generator’s command console got the mechanical components working.” The car shuddered as Sunny hit the button for the main lobby, and it began its slow descent through the innards of the old-world monolith. “Well that’s just one problem solved.” Steeljack said from the back of the car. “How are we going to get back to Neighfair with a bunch of raiders bearing down on us?” As the doors opened and I saw the chunks of concrete and pavement scatter through the lobby and in the street outside, I began to wonder the same thing. How are we going to get back to Neighfair? “My best guess? I’d say by the skin of our teeth.” “So we’re pulling a rabbit out of a hat? Again?” Dart interjected. I simply nodded and stepped out of the elevator. “Probably. Now let's get to it!” Author's Note And there we go, another chapter! ...Honestly I should feel relieved that I've knocked another one off, but I'm really too tired right now to care much. If there's any typos, let me know. I just had to go through and reformat the whole chapter after I imported it from Google Docs, so I'm not sure if making everything bold was the only thing wrong. Again, I'm just too tired at the moment. But we've introduced the Desert Rangers to the universe in their full capacity, not mentioning them in passing like in The Long Road (which is still on the back burner as I sort out how to end it's story properly, although I think I might get started on it's next chapter) or in the codex entries. And there's the first mention of this old stallion... He'll be showing up throughout Broken Mirror, nudging Dusk and Company in the right direction. Now does anyone have questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Improvise (Arc I)Banks of the Chicacolt River Dusk “Hit the deck!” I heard one of the rangers yell, right as he dove behind a collapsed bus stop. BANG! The impact from a small shell in the street kicked up chunks of old asphalt and showered our small group with the bits of centuries-old grey material. About half a mile away in the middle of the river was the old raider-infested cruiser, now moored off the beach that we were at the head of. “Damn it, those autocannons are getting really annoying!” Sunny shouted as more shells cratered the street. All while the shells were landing around us in the rubble, I could see some movement below us on the beach. As the last volley landed, three more Rangers hopped up onto the street and joined up behind the broken concrete that littered our part of the street. “Glad you decided to join us Sandy.” Sunny muttered. “You still have the parcel?” The masked stallion patted the pack on his back. “Still dry too. Now did you figure out a backup plan yet?” “We haven’t gotten that far yet.” I spat, flinching as a shell took a chunk out of the top of my cover. “So please, feel free to offer some suggestions.” Maybe it’s just me, but I could sense the poor Ranger’s growing headache. “Let’s see… We got two of the barges dropping guys on the beach, that ship has us zeroed and we’re hiding out in the shadows of some buildings that I’d question the integrity of. Maybe I’m being cynical, but I don’t think we have much to use.” I sat there as more shells slammed into the ground and mulled over Sandstorm’s rather bleak assessment of our situation. That’s when I looked up at an apartment building whose shadow we were in. Ten floors to the skinny-looking building. But as my gaze turned to the ground near it’s base I saw far more of it’s foundation exposed than would be reasonable. Barely visible was an old iron pipe, likely a water main, that had long since gone dry. “Do we have any plastic explosives?” Steeljack and Dart both started fishing what they had of the white explosive out of their pockets, all while I made my way over to the damaged building. Further examination of the trench proved what I had seen from a distance; a long-broken water main had undercut the corner of the foundation facing the beach. The concrete was hanging over the washout, a large steel beam making up the corner of the foundation. “You have a plan?” Steeljack asked as he walked up, handing me a small bag full of C4. “You heard Sandstorm.” I said with a smirk. “We’ve got a building of dubious integrity, and a growing crowd of unfriendly raiders down on the beach.” Slowly a reflection of my grin grew across Steeljack’s face. “You crazy bastard…” “What the hell are you talking about?” Sandstorm asked, having finally joined myself and Steeljack at the top of the washout. “Oh, nothing.” I said with a grin, swinging the bag of explosive ever so slightly. “Just our backup plan.” Sandstorm looked at the bag, the foundation, back at the bag and finally the beach. “Son of a bitch… Supressing fire!” The newly-invigorated stallion yelled. While we had been on the receiving end of shells behind the rubble, I was relatively protected in the washout. Sure there were some pebbles that trickled down the sides and bounced off my shoulder pads, but that was nothing. I quickly set into a pattern; grab a charge out of the bag, stick it to the beam, add a detonator and repeat. I got five of the two-pound blocks on the beam in a relatively clustered spot before I realized that I had emptied the bag. So I flipped the switches that were on the sides of the detonators to arm them and checked the detonator signal on my pipbuck. I hit the connect button, and the orange light on the top right side of the screen flashed orange three times, turned solid green, then shut off. A message appeared on the screen that confirmed all five detonators had been linked. I clambered out of the water-cut trench and nearly ran right into Steeljack. “You good?” He asked. “Good?” I asked, sounding as sarcastic as possible. “What’s good about live explosives?” Steeljack rolled his eyes. “We’re set!” He yelled, breaking into a jog that I was easily able to keep up with. We soon made it into the burnt-out husk of a bakery across the street. Right behind us came Dart, the Rangers right on her heel. “You think this is going to work?” I shrugged and pulled up the detonator prompt on my pipbuck. “We’re about to find out…” Click “Huh?” BANG! To say that the delay between hitting the detonator and the explosives actually doing their thing was shocking was a bit of… Well, let’s say that the weak of heart would’ve dropped dead right where they stood. “Did it work?” Dart whispered over the sounds of gunfire outside. Grrr…. “I’d say so.” I said, watching as the apartment building across the street slowly began to tilt towards the beach. But after a minute of the building shifting, it stopped moving and shed a few loose panes of glass from the upper levels to the ground below. “But I am allowed to be wrong.” “So now our backup plan has failed spectacularly. Thanks Dusk!” Sandstorm yelled. “Hey, don’t take it all out on me, that building was falling!” I insisted. “And from up here it looks like it needs a little nudge.” Came a voice of reason over my radio., one that held years of experience and could deal with- “Fire in the hole!” From our position in the bakery I saw two rockets stream down the street and slam into the far side of the building. Their explosion was muffled from our position, but soon the apartment building began to shudder and shift once more. Cracks began to spread along the side of the building that we could see. The seconds ticked by and they grew wider, breaking apart wiring and pipes that had hid within its walls for centuries. And as those very bonds broke, the building began to topple over faster, and faster, heading for it’s ineveitable- CRASH!!! The dust cloud that the building kicked up obscured our view of what little part of the beach that wasn’t covered in the rubble from the monument to our desperate plan. “That’ll do it.” Said Sunny as she walked out into the street. The rest of us filed suit, joining her in the dust-filled air outside our meager shelter. As an armed Vertibuck made a pass over our group, my radio chimed in once more. “Anyone still alive down there?” “We’re here General.” Dart replied, using her own to respond. “Any chance you can give us a ride home?” The radio remained silent as the echos of propellers bounced off the buildings that were still standing, and the same Vertibuck that ensured our plan’s success touched down with the doors wide open. I was the first one to clamber in and grab a seat, hitting it with enough force to shake the Vertibuck slightly to the side. “Long day champ?” Gramps asked from the pilot’s seat behind me… Wait, since when can he fly a Vertibuck? “You’re trying to figure out where I got the pilot’s license, aren’t you?” Gramps asked over the din made by a series of boots landing on metal deckplate. “What was your first clue?” I retorted. “You didn’t open your mouth and start throwing half-hearted insults around.” The old stallion replied as the craft began to shudder and lift from the cracked earth. Well he’s right, but I still don’t see where the old coot learned to fly a highly advanced and complicated piece of military equipment… I opted to push those thoughts out of my mind as the beach became visible in the Vertibuck’s window. If I didn’t know that the hellraisers were running around on that beach, I might feel bad for them. The sight of the shrinking specs that were the individual hellraisers moving around the beach below were the only real clue to the lives that were on the beach. Damn… If only everything was that simple. *** Neighfair, Twenty Minutes Later I’d be lying if I said I knew why Gramps flew us around Chicacolt. Maybe he wanted to give the raiders a chance to forget about the flying target, maybe he wanted to do some sightseeing. But as Neighfair came into view and I saw the plume of smoke pouring out of the storage hangar my heart sank. “What happened down there?” Gramps didn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t hear my question… Or maybe he did and was deciding to keep his mouth shut. The Vertibuck shuddered when it hit the ground followed by the decreased whining of the engines as they spun down to a stop. Only when the engines went quiet did the doors slide open and allow the faint smell of burning metal to drift into the cabin. The ground made a bit of a squelching noise as my boots hit the ground. I looked down and realized I had landed in a puddle of fresh mud, courtesy of the water running out of the hangar door. “What the hell happened?” I heard Dart wonder aloud once she hit the ground. Like Gramps, I kept my mouth shut and made my way into the hangar. The burning smell that permeated the air was stronger inside the hangar, but not by much. By the door was nearly a dozen unicorn Division members. They all looked like they had been through the meat grinder, faces plastered with soot and grime that was carried by the smoke. As I looked around I saw the cause of all the trouble; the ammunition storage for the field guns, or what was left of it, was nothing but a charred hole in the wall. “In case you’re wondering, there was a live bomb in there.” Kovac said as he took a place next to me. “The two EOD techs that were in there taking an inventory got out alright, and our lovely volunteers kept the fire contained to that section of the hangar-” “But now we’ve got nothing to throw at the cruiser.” I interjected. “That’s the long and short of it.” So now we’ve got a bunch of useless howitzers and a cruiser that can just blast away at the walls of the base… “Kovac, do we have access to the Chicacolt’s blueprints?” The older stallion mulled it over for a moment before nodding. “We should, might have to do a bit of digging to find them though.” “Just get your people on it.” BFFT!! The sound of the first shell landing outside the walls was the start to the ticking clock that is now hanging over all our heads. “And Kovac? I need those plans now.” One Hour Later “So… Do you have any ideas?” Strike asked once more. His incessant questioning over the last few minutes had only served to give me a minor headache, although it had no clear signs of abating. “Not yet.” I muttered. About five minutes ago one of Kovac’s engineers brought me a copy of the Chicacolt’s blueprints. The mare said something about the shelling causing trouble, but I didn’t pay much attention to her or the annoying knat that had followed her to my hiding spot. Instead I unfurled the old canvas paper and zeroed in in the heart of the cruiser. What needs to be noted about a cruiser as old as the Chicacolt is its method of propulsion; instead of electric drive systems powered by some fusion reactor, it used a far older method; steam driven turbines. Three turbines were for the propulsion system, set up at different gearing ratios for different performance. Only two moved the ship forward, the other turbine was geared so the ship could reverse. But those turbines are just the ships legs… Sure, breaking those made the ship immovable, but it still would be an intact floating gun battery. To kill the Chicacolt you’d need to cut out it’s heart. Or in our case, cause a catastrophic failure in the ship’s boiler. Should be easy enough considering it’s age at this point, and the likely deterioration in the materials that it’s made of after almost three centuries… But that’s beyond the point. The problem remains simple; how to get to the engine room on the Chicacolt without dying. And then you still need to get out of the ship before the boiler blows and takes out who knows what… It’s a steam system under pressure, so there’s no telling how it’ll die when injured. “Hello, I’m talking to you!” Strike droned. Maybe another set of eyes could help… “Alright Strike, riddle me this. How do we get into the Chicacolt’s engine room? We need to fight through the crew on that ship, so by the time we get there it would just be easier to take out who’s left and use the ship for ourselves.” “But we’ve got no use for it.” He pointed out. “Exactly! So how do we get into the engine room?” Strike started staring at the engineering section of the plans before he tapped a small section of the paper. “This maintenance hatch.” “Maintenance hatch?” I looked at the spot on the paper that Strike was pointing at, and sure enough there was a watertight hatch on the outside of the hull near the engine room. “If we can get someone under the ship and open the hatch, that same someone could go in, mess with the boiler and get out.” He said. “The hatch leads into a parts room. Why guard a parts room in the heart of the ship when you own the joint? Better yet, do you think they’d expect someone to use an old trap door under their feet to get into their house?” Alright, it’s clear to me that Strike is far more observant than I give him credit. “So if you got all that by looking at that one little spot on these plans… Where do we plant a bomb that’ll cause a catastrophic failure in that boiler?” Strike snorted in amusement. “Dusk, that thing is a bomb.” He replied. “All you need to do is drain the water from the boiler. Once the crownsheet is exposed it’ll become the fuse, and adding water to it will cause the boiler to blow apart. Obviously you adding water is a bit problematic…” “If it’s a steam boiler wouldn’t there be some gauge somewhere to tell how much water is actually in the thing?” “Yes, there is…” Strike mumbled. “I got it! There’s usually a valve on the bottom of the gauge glass. Close that valve and the water that’s in there will stay put. Just unbolt the handle and put it on backwards once it’s closed and it’ll look like the valve is still open. If the engineer thinks the boiler just needs to have water added, he’ll do it and BOOM! You got your explosion.” “Should I be concerned that you thought of this plan seemingly off the bat?” I asked. Strike shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s up to you. But you still need to breathe while you go for that hatch, and I can’t solve that problem” I nodded and mulled over my options before I decided on the answer I was searching for. “You won’t need to.” Author's Note And there's our third chapter in the first arc. Not only has Dusk shown he's still able to think on his feet, but he knows enough to ask someone when he's stumped. And who'd think that Strike could concoct a scheme so quickly? Up until now he was just muscle. And yes, we'll delve more into his excellent analytical abilities during his character arc. In the mean time, I'll keep cranking away on Chapter Four; Heart of Fire In the mean time, does anyone have questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Heart of Fire (Arc I)Somewhere over Neighfair… Another benefit of the augmentations is the near-indestructible skeleton. So if I botch this dive down into the river, at least I won’t need a cast afterwards. At least I kept thinking that while Gramps brought the Vertibuck over the walls of the base. I saw the traces of smoke that the high-explosive shells had left from their impacts on the beach and walls. “You know if they have anti aircraft guns on that ship?” Gramps yelled from the cockpit. “No idea.” I replied. “When the Chicacolt was built Airships were incredibly primitive. At most they were large canvas sacks filled with helium that had wooden baskets slung beneath them. Sure you might have had Griffins buzzing around, but unless my history is off Griffany was an isolationist nation until about twenty years ago back home. Safe to say they might have made some retrofits to that old bucket down there, but I wouldn’t bet on it.” “Fair enough, but how do you plan on getting under the ship in one piece? We’re flying around in broad daylight!” “Buzz their ship.” I replied. “I’ll jump out the side that’s facing away from the ship while you make a flyby at deck level. Odds are good that the raiders on the deck would be too concerned with a vertibuck to pay me much attention.” “Alright.” I felt the deck beneath me tilt to the left as Gramps banked the Vertibuck around. “But I’m taking the damages out of your allowance!” “I didn’t know I had one to begin with.” I quipped, watching the river as the Vertibuck grew closer. Soon enough the vertibuck began to level out as it began it’s run down the river towards the ship. Well, I can’t really call it a run... More like a brisk walking pace. I heard pings against the hull; likely bullets from raiders on the ship. That was my cue to side open the compartment door and expose my eardrums to the pulsing noise of the rotors spinning at an incalculable speed. “You ready?” Gramps yelled from the cockpit. “What do you think?” I hollered back. More bullet strikes rang out around the cabin as the raiders on the Chicacolt started to get their act together. “Alright Dusk, get going!” As my feet began to leave the deckplates I pulled down my goggles. I managed to get them down just in time to suck in as much air as my lungs could hold, immediately followed by my boots breaking through the surface of the water. By the time my head was beneath the waves the thousands of tiny air bubbles were already rushing past my face in a mad dash towards the surface. I whipped around to face the underside of the old cruiser, kicking up more bubbles as a result of my rapid movement. With the weight of the water around me squeezing on my chest I started paddling towards the hatch. It was that swishing sound that was my sole companion as the hull of the ship grew larger as I approached. Finally, only ten feet from the hull, I spotted it; the maintenance hatch. I grabbed onto the handle once it came into reach and slowly turned it down, matching the arrows that were cast into the door. It ran through it’s arc rather smoothly for a door that’s likely been submerged in salt water… I tried to tug the door back, and felt it move slightly. But further movement wasn’t very forthcoming. I planted my boots on the bottom of the ship and pulled against the door. That started to do it, but the door stopped about a quarter of the way open. Well, it’s the best I can get given the circumstances… Slowly I managed to squeeze through the opening and saw the water’s surface only a few inches from me. With one last kick I - Suddenly I felt something catch and I stopped dead. By this point my lungs were starting to burn. I turned around and found my impediment to be a jagged bolt around the edge of the door. The end of my pants had caught on it, tearing down about two inches before it stopped at the reinforced seam. I tried kicking off the side of the bulkhead to no avail; the seam held fast. With the burning in my lungs growing into a small inferno I began to think. I’m running out of air only inches away from salvation. I finally flicked my knife out of its sheath and leaned down. With one fluid motion I cut around my leg and freed the seam from the rest of my garment. With it now free of the rest of my pants I was able to worm my booted foot through it and get free. One last kick of the bulkhead sent me rocketing up into the air pocket. I had to force myself to stay calm; gasping for air might draw undue attention. Looking up I saw a ladder that led up to the actual deck. At the top was a water-tight bulkhead snugged up against a rubber gasket with a screw-style handle. I finally dragged myself up the ladder and steadied myself against the door. Before doing anything else I fished out my radio and clicked it on. “Dusk to Neighfair, infiltration successful. Going radio silent.” I shut off the radio and tucked it back into my bandolier. Glancing down at my pipbuck’s EFS I saw one red dot with an arrow pointing up, indicating the only raider in it’s range was a deck above me. Finally I unscrewed the door and stepped through. By the time I shut it there was water already splashing against the deck. So, with no other option, I slowly screwed the door back down. I glanced down at my pipbuck once I was done and silently groaned at the sight of two red dots on my deck. They grew slightly larger as the seconds ticked by, a likely indicator that they were nearing my position. I looked around and saw a small supply closet that had been left ajar. With no other options I opened it up, clambered in over a pile of cleaning supplies and shut the door behind me. That door stuck with a soft click. I stayed perfectly still as the two sets of boots made their presence known through the soft echoes that bounced off the walls of the ship. “You still haven’t given me an answer.” I heard one of the raiders say. “Ugh, are you still stuck on the pier?” The other groaned. “No, I went to another subject that we’ve been talking about all day.” The hallway was quiet for a moment before the raider finally spoke up. “We get caps, guns and roof over our heads. Who cares if the boss is out for revenge?” “See, that’s what worries me. You weren’t on the Pier when those soldiers came marching in.” The original raider said. “Compared those tanks to this tub? We might as well be bringing a knife to a gunfight. And need I remind you they got into a sealed military base? We’d probably live longer if we just left these guys alone.” While the two raiders kept up their banter I had slowly snaked my hand down to the holster at my side. With some difficulty I was able to flick the small clip off the top and slide out the small .45 pistol that I had salvaged from the Neighfair storage hangar. “Wait a minute, what the hell are we doing down here anyway?” “Smoke break?” While the two raiders were silent, I could imagine that the other was rolling his eyes. “You go do that.” Immediately I heard a set of boots crossing the deck, eventually fading from earshot. “Whatever… Still gotta check on the engineer.” That second statement was followed by more footfalls that eventually disappeared in the bowels of the old metal monstrosity. I pushed open the door of the supply closet and slid off the pile of junk to the deck. A quick doubletake confirmed that I was alone in the corridor, but judging by the raider’s monologuing I’ll be running into someone soon. I wheeled right and headed down the corridor a few yards to an open bulkhead door. I ducked behind the edge of the frame. I thought for a moment that there wasn’t anyone in the room, but then I heard something. It wasn’t a tool striking the bulkhead, or a shell casing skittering across the floor… But it sounded almost like someone had slugged a bag of sand. I heard that same thud noise another three times before someone started panting. “You have enough yet?” The guts of the ship were quiet for a brief moment as the raider chuckled. “At least you know how to be quiet.” I wheeled around the corner and leveled my pistol towards the raider. He was standing over a bloody white unicorn… Well, he was at one point judging by the bloody stump of what was his horn. “What can I say? You brutes are good teachers.” That's when the stallion turned his bloody gaze towards me. I froze once I caught it, but it broke very quickly. I holstered my pistol and slid out my knife instead. “Well I hope we-” SCHICK! Slowly I twisted my knife around, stopping as the rotation of the handle was halted by the raider’s ribs. “You need to shut the hell up.” I pulled the knife out and kicked the limp raider to the ground. I turned and knelt down next to the wounded unicorn, helping him sit up. “Thanks.” The stallion groaned. “Name’s Spark.” “Dusk.” I replied. In the brief silence that followed I studied Spark’s face. By this point his coat was turning pink from the blood that was slowly running down his face, and it had most certainly lost its shine. “What are you doing down here?” “Who do you think made this bucket work?” Spark retorted, followed by a small hacking fit which expelled a significant amount of blood onto the deckplates. “The raiders came to our settlement a few months ago. Killed everyone except me, only because I had the ship’s number two boiler in working order when they barged in.” “So they had you get the other one working and made sure the ship was water tight.” “You sure you’re not a mindreader?” Spark asked. “Wait, you left out the beatings and torture… So probably not.” “I’m sorry, but torture?” I know raiders are brutal and all, but since when do they sink to torture as opposed to outright killing? Spark pulled his shirt back to reveal dark red bandages wrapped around his stomach. “That raider you killed reopened the stitches. About a month ago one of the bosses thought it would be a good idea to show me what my small intestine looks like. Since then they’ve given me small doses of stimpacks and healing potions then busted up the stitches again right away.” Judging by how dark the bandages are I’d say that Spark is onto something… “So tell me Dusk, what are you doing here?” “Well… Our mutual friends have been taking some pock shots at a military base outside of Chicacolt. And considering I like the place, someone suggested I should send this old piece of junk back to the scrap heap.” “And how do you plan on doing that? The raiders will find a bomb down here with relative ease.” I offered a shrug and pointed at the boilers. “Not if it’s part of the ship.” “Ah…” Spark muttered. “That's borderline brilliant. So I would assume you know a way to disable the low water alarm?” “What low water alarm?” Spark rolled his eyes. “On both boilers there’s a float type control. If the water gets too low in one of the boilers, the firing gear for the affected unit is cut off and an alarm is sounded down here and up on the bridge. Once the alarm goes off there’s a delay timer that kicks in on the firing gear. Lasts about an hour, after which the crownsheet should be cool enough so water can be added to the boiler again safely.” I mulled over this new revelation momentarily before I got up and walked over to the boiler. “Are the alarm units prone to any issues?” “Not really.” Spark replied. “The units are both mechanical arms that keep spring loaded buttons from popping up and triggering the alarm. Look, just unbolt the service cover on one of those green boxes above the firedoor. Those are the alarms.” I made my way over to the main boiler and tried loosening the wingnut that held the cover shut, but had no luck in undoing the old fastener. “Its stuck.” “Try this, should break up the corrosion.” Spark was leaning against the boiler with a bottle of paint thinner in his hands. I grabbed the small bottle and poured it on the wingnut, handing it back to Spark as my free hand managed to break the fastener free and spin it off its stud. The service door on the control swung open with ease, revealing the metal arm that went down into a dip tube full of water. “So if the arm gets too far down the tube it can trip the alarm?” “Exactly.” Said Spark. “At about halfway down, it triggers an autofeeder to add water into the boiler. Stick it all the way up and nothing happens.” Well that’s a starting point. “You have anything I can stick in there to hold the arm up?” “You got a loaded gun. Stick one of the bullets between the edge of the diptube and the arm.” “If you say so.” I muttered. I fished around my ammo pouch and managed to slide one of the .45 rounds out of a spare clip. Sliding it under the mechanism proved a tight fit, but the bullet stayed put and kept the arm well away from the trigger for the autofeeder. With nothing more to do I swung the service cover closed and tied the wingnut back down. “How long until the crown sheet is exposed?” “Honestly? I don’t have a clue.” Spark replied. “I tested the controls by forcing the arms down, not trying to cause a catastrophic failure.” Well thats wonderful! “Look, close off the sight glass on this boiler, unbolt the handle and put it back on backwards. If we’re lucky no one will notice this thing run out of water.” “Well the thing will melt down instead of blowing up. Someone needs to add the water to this thing to get it to go-” Spark stopped and clutched at his bandages before he managed to steady himself on the side of the boiler. “Look, I’ll stay down here and get the boiler to go off. I’ll only slow you down.” “So I should just leave the innocent stallion down here to get shredded by shrapnel?” “You shouldn’t waste your time on a dead stallion.” Spark spat. “Besides, the glass is showing at a third. The crownsheet is already showing under a thin layer of water.” “So by the time everything boils off the sheet will be getting red hot…” “Exactly.” Spark said. “That glass was at full about five minutes ago. Give it another five and this thing should be ready to pop.” I offered a curt nod and looked over Spark one last time. “Well, good-” “Hey, who the hell are you?” I wheeled around to find a raider standing in the bulkhead. “Spark, do what you have to.” I said. “I’ll keep the raiders busy.” “You’ll keep me busy?” The raider asked as he pulled out his knife. “How you plan on doing that?” I pulled my pistol out and aimed it at the raider’s head. “By doing something like this.” BANG! *** “Someone kill that fucker already!” A mare’s voice yelled over the ship’s intercom as I ducked under one of her lackey’s right hooks. “What if I have a problem with that?” I wondered aloud as I jammed my knife through the side of the raider’s ribcage. “GRAGH! You’ll pay-” BANG! I rolled my eyes as the raider slumped to the deck with a bloody stain growing around the hole in his chest. “No I won’t.” I retorted to the empty room. I made my way across the otherwise clean floor to a bulkhead that was open ever slightly enough to allow sunlight to flicker through. I pulled the door open to reveal the upper deck of the ship… And at least a dozen raiders milling around. “Quick, someone stop the engineer!” I heard the same mare’s voice yell over the loudspeakers. “He’s gonna-” BOOM! I felt the deck shudder under my boots as an explosion echoed from the bowels of the ship. I turned around as a cloud of steam and smoke barreled out of the far hallway, engulfing two screaming raiders before the aftermath began to flow into the room. “Dusk to Neighfair, the main boiler is done.” I walked outside and pulled the door shut to keep the clouds away from me as the deck began to slowly rock from side to side. “Now if you guys don’t mind I could use a ride off this bucket.” “Sit tight Dusk, I’m on my way.” Gramps called out over the radio. “Hey, who the fuck is that?” One of the raiders asked. “That fucker has been running around killing my men!” I heard a mare yell from the bridge above me. I sidestepped a growing shadow just in time to see a mare in hulking salvaged power armor slam down onto the deck. “You all stay out of this fight, he’s mine.” I instinctively pulled my pistol from it’s holster once more and slammed home a fresh clip of ammo. “Ya, what she said!” I yelled out. “Shut up!” The mare yelled, jumping forward and stomping a foot-sized dent into the deckplates as she missed my own two feet. “I’m not feeling it.” I retorted. The raider tried to swing a sharp edge to her armor at my head, but I ducked low enough where it sailed past my face without scratching me. “Really, I’m not!” “I said shut up!” The mare finally swung her leg around and caught my gut. While I didn’t feel anything break, there’ll most certainly be a boot-sized bruise smack-dab in the middle of my chest… And maybe some other cuts and bruises from- CRACK! “Ugh…” Well smacking into walls still hurts like hell. I rolled over and managed to click my radio on. “Gramps, I could use that ride.” “Well if you’d take the cotton out of your ears you might notice the vertibuck coming in.” I managed to scramble to my feet and duck past another stomp from the Raider Leader, right as a Vertibuck swung down into a hover just feet away from the deck. Before I had a chance I felt someone grab my collar and toss me up into the air, tumbling to a stop at the deck of the ship’s wheelhouse. “Then can I ask for some help?” I sat up and realized something; my pants are soaking wet. “What the fuck?” Well as it turns out I’m sitting in a puddle of water… One that’s slowly growing. “The boiler must’ve put a hole in the hull.” And judging by the weird angle that the Vertibuck is hovering at I’d say that I might be in line for a swim. “What do you want me to do?”Gramps said over the crackling radio channel. “You know what? Fuck it, just leave the door open.” I started running across the deck, skidding around the Raider before leaping from the deck and landing head over heels in the Vertibuck’s compartment. “You good?” Gramps called from the cockpit. “I should be.” I groaned. The Vertibuck shuddered as it rose away from the surface of the river, making it a bit harder for me to crawl into one of the open jumpseats. Finally the Vertibuck began to bank, giving me the opportunity to roll into a sitting position and steady myself as I started feeling the waves of exhausting crash into me. “Hey, is it a problem if I’m feeling fried?” “Not really.” Gramps yelled. “When’s the last time you actually slept?” As I looked out the open compartment door on the dying Chicacolt, missing large pieces of the aft hull and deckplates and spewing clouds of black smoke and steam from the openings, the reality that I haven’t slept well since we first arrived became more apparent. Power naps and high-protein snacks aren’t going to keep me going. But another thought crossed my mind; why did I feel so… Indifferent by letting Spark stay down in the engine room? I just abandoned an innocent stallion to die just so we could blow up a boat. How do I not feel disgusted with myself? “Dusk, you alright?” Gramps called out. “Honestly?” I yelled back. “I just don’t know.” Author's Note And there's the last chapter in Arc I ladies and gentlemen! Now allow me to make a bit of a note here... Spark's presence on the Chicacolt will be investigated in the early part of Arc II (which will center around Dusk and his grandfather, Meteor Shower), and we'll get some in-universe explanation as to why Dusk was so willing to leave someone to die. I'll be honest, the whole "selfless sacrifice" thing is a bit hard for me to play out in writing. There are writers out there that can do it well but I need to work on it. With that in mind though I think I did an excellent job in capturing the technical aspects of steam technology in this chapter. Bar calling the box a "low water alarm" (which is a real thing) I described the function of a "low water cutoff". So if you have steam heat at home, you most certainly have one of those on the boiler. Maybe there's an autofeeder too but that depends on how old the thing is. Additionally, in semi-related news, I'm going to start writing some brief summaries of the different chapter arcs. As the arcs come up, that'll be when they see the light of day. Because I'm only deciding to do that now I'm going to try and do the summaries for Arcs I and II. And assuming I have the free money (mind you all I'm a college student) I'll have some cover art done for each arc. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
More Questions, Fewer Answers (Interlude I)Archer Location Unknown The first thing I notice was the stillness, a far departure from the cacophony that echoed around the Vertibuck cabin. But what vertibuck? My name… It’s Archer. I repeated the name a few times as I tried to figure out the sensations that are flooding my head. “It wasn’t easy, was it?” I looked up and saw Dusk brush through the cloud of mist like an ghosts. The memories… Dusk said he was going to show me how his so called ‘crapshoot’ started. That’s how he did it. “Well…” I muttered “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re right.” Well coming back to reality wasn’t easy, that much is certain. “If it makes you feel better the confusion shouldn’t be a problem as we keep going.” Dusk said, trying to sound reassuring. “Fine…” I groaned. “But I need a break.” Dusk nodded and pulled his stool out of the ether again and sat down. “I’m well aware of that. But before I cut you loose for the night I want to try and pick your brain a bit.” I shrugged and sat down on the stool that had appeared off to my left. “What about?” “Look, you just watched me let someone die. It took me a while to fully get my feelings about it tied down, so what do you think?” “Considering that I just had a bunch of memories stuffed down my throat so to speak… Kinda meh.” I replied. “See, that’s what kept me up at night!” Dusk shouted. “How could I-” “You’re doing it again.” Dusk stopped and took a deep breath. “Right… Anyway, some stuff on Spark did crop up for me and Gramps about a week later. We’ll go over that tomorrow night.” “Don’t tell me.” I groaned. “I just slept the night away, didn’t I?” “Yup.” Dusk chirped. “You did get carted off to a bed in the infirmary… Which in my experience is far more comfortable than some chair in the command center.” “Alright… Thanks?” “Your welcome.” Dusk started to fade away and darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision. “Now wake up.” My eyelids fluttered a bit before I finally managed to force them open. ‘Dusk’ wasn’t lying; at some point someone had dumped me in a bed surrounded by a bunch of beeping machines. Sitting up in bed it became apparent that I wasn’t the only one in the room. Off to my left were two beds occupied by the familiar faces of Phalanx and Cloud Runner, both friends of my father. Phalanx seemed to be worse off and was the source of the beeping machines that were hooked up to a bunch of contacts stuck at seemingly random spots on his chest. Cloud Runner, on the other hand, was sitting up and reading the contents of an unmarked manilla folder. For a brief moment he stopped and glanced over at me before going back to the papers that were the center of his attention. “You sleep well kiddo?” “For the most part.” I said with a sigh. “What are you reading?” “After-action reports.” Cloud replied. “You know something? It’s amazing how easily someone can boil down me getting my ass kicked to a few simple sentences.” “You got your ass kicked?” Cloud nodded. “And I’ve already given Dusk the bill for the new suit of armor.” I couldn’t help but internally cringe at the thought. Having seen Cloud Runner’s armor myself I already know it’s one of the most technologically advanced pieces of engineering built to date… And it’s likely scrap if he’s telling Dusk to replace it. “Well… That sounds like fun!” I said, trying to put on a chipper face. “Now if you’ll excuse me I must be going.” *** The Grotto, Command Center Dusk I kept staring at the display for the security camera in the infirmary. My focus was glued on Archer as I studied the mannerisms that I could observe through silent black and white footage. How she was carrying herself, the change in how she appeared to walk… And the forced wry grin. All things that I recognized, having done them myself for years. Cosmo might be oblivious to the changes but the memory orb has definitely changed something in Archer. Finally I sighed and took a step back from the security console. “What did I say about skulking around in the shadows Cosmo?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Archer’s father flicker into view as he dropped his invisibility spell. “You’re the one watching my daughter, so all bets are off.” “Do you at least want to know what I’ve learned?” I groaned. “Please Dusk, go ahead and enlighten me.” “The orb did something to her.” I replied. “Her mannerisms have changed. Remember how she’d roll around on the balls of her feet if you told her to stand still?” Cosmo nodded. “How could I forget?” “That’s gone.” “What?” Cosmo asked. “You heard me.” I spat. “Since she got back on her feet Archer hasn’t done that once. Instead she’s been trying to stay on the fringe and acts far more reserved than juvenile.” Cosmo was quiet for a moment before I noticed him clutch his fingers over the bridge of his muzzle. “She just survived a warzone. Wouldn't you be acting-” “She’s got my smirk.” “She’s got your what?” Cosmo asked. I rewound the security tape a few seconds and paused as the frame changed to a clear shot of Archer’s face. “See that?” I asked as I jammed my finger next to the eternal copy of the grin Archer was wearing. “That’s my smirk.” I stepped back and let Cosmo get in and get a look at the frame of footage that I had stopped on. “Son of a bitch…” “See what I’m talking about?” Cosmo nodded and finally turned towards me. “She’s never done that before.” “I know!” I exclaimed. “It’s incredibly creepy.” “Just creepy?” “Yes, just creepy.” Cosmo clutched at his muzzle again. “Where is she now?” *** Location Unknown Archer Alright, lets recap the last few minutes. Shall we? After leaving the infirmary I said to myself ‘hey, why not go down to the gym and lift some weights?’. So here I think that a hundred pounds might be a good standard to start with… Then I dropped the bar on my chest and now in the least ceremonious manner I’ve once again returned to the metaphysical smoke-filled room. “Archer?” Dusk asked as he appeared in a flash of light. “Didn’t I say we’d be doing this again tomorrow night?” “You did.” “So what makes you think you could handle weights when you’ve never dealt with them a day in your life?” I sat down on the magical ‘disappearing’ stool and rolled my eyes. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” “And obviously it wasn’t.” Dusk pointed out. “Just don’t do something you think of off the cuff in the future, ok?” “Fine by me.” I replied as I looked around the smoke-clouded corner of my consciousness. “I’m gonna be here a while, aren’t I?” “We at least have a few hours.” I nodded and let my shoulders drop a bit. “So what happened Neighfair?” Dusk shrugged. “Where do you wanna start kiddo?” “Well…” I muttered as I finally settled on my question. “You said that you and the General found some stuff on Spark about a week after you blew up the Chicacolt. What was it?” “Not what was it.” Dusk said. “What wasn’t it.” “And now you’re confusing me.” I retorted. “But that’s just it. We didn’t find anything. There wasn’t even any evidence he-” I just held my hand up and Dusk stopped short. “Look, just show me. It’s easier than listening to you droning on and it’ll kill some time.” “Ugh…” Dusk groaned. “We’re about to do Jedi, aren’t we?” “What do you mean ‘Jedi’?” I asked. Dusk must’ve snapped out of it because he went from annoyed to actually interested. “What do you have against Star Wars?” “I don’t even know what Star Wars is!” “It’s a human movie... “ Dusk stopped and nodded. “Sorry. I think the author was trying to be funny.” I offered a curt nod. “And this ‘author’ obviously isn’t that funny.” “Well he’s trying to break the fourth-” “Dusk!” I yelled. “Just shut the fuck up and get to the flashback before I smack some sense into you.” “Flashback?” Dusk muttered. “Flashback, right! Let’s go freeze our asses off.” “Absolutely!” Wait he just said something about cold, didn’t he? Author's Note Well there's the first interlude... Yes, I tried a fourth wall break. I got a giggle out of it myself, but I wrote it and I'm biased towards myself. Now the interludes won't do much except advance plot points in the "present" slowly until we hit the sixth arc, which will revolve around the final battle between Dusk and Kovac. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
The Truth Hurts (Arc II)Neighfair Command Center If I’ve learned anything in a week, one thing comes to mind right off the bat. Neighfair and Chicacolt are like night and day… You see, I look out over the river and I see the crumbling skyscrapers, burnt out buildings and rubble strewn across the banks of the river that the city took its name from. But Neighfair is something else. It’s old, sure, but it’s held up incredibly well over the centuries. In essence it’s a picture of a past that died in smoke and fire. But it's not the river that’s the border. If anything all it does it muddy where that line sits. The wreckage of the Chicacolt takes that border and twists it; on one hand the front half of the ship appears pristine after the steam-cleaning it received after the boilers blew… But on the other hand it’s sticking straight up out of the riverbed, bobbing around in the choppy water of the Chicacolt River. But none of that has been a bother. Instead I’ve been questioning morality for the last week. You see I’ve been raised to regard all life as precious and full of value, regardless of appearances. Yet I found it easy to sacrifice one pony simply because he was in a position of convenience to my goals; that single action flies in the face of how I’ve been raised… And while I should feel like shit I don't. Instead I feel at ease regarding the course of action that I followed, and that is simply terrifying. So once more I find myself staring out of the dirty windows lining the command center hoping to have an epiphany that will vindicate my decisions. So far, however, those answers haven’t been forthcoming. What did come to me was a simple realization; I’m being watched. “You’re still upset about Spark.” I turned and leaned against the window, turning my attention to the old stallion who had apparently decided to join me. “What do you got for proof Gramps?” In response Gramps pulled out a small black notebook. “Your journal.” He retorted, tossing me the small book. I turned the book over in my hands, having only found it and its blank pages in a storeroom the day after Spark gave up the ghost for my sake. “It seems you’re more honest with that little book then everyone else around you.” “Can you blame me?” I snapped. “In my experience I can’t expect for someone to be there when I need to vent.” Gramps mulled over my words for a few moments before he silently surrendered and took a place next to me at the window. “You’re right… Damn, I’ve had three years to get ready for this conversation and I still don’t know what to say.” “Then keep it simple.” “I’m sorry.” Gramps sighed. “I should’ve come back sooner to make sure you were alright… Hell, I even convinced your parents that going back for you wasn’t a good idea. We left thinking you would be fine and I came back to a bitter and cynical young colt. And then I got shot when those humans grabbed you and didn’t get back up to help you.” “Can I back up for a second?” I asked. “Sure, go right ahead.” “You got shot!” I insisted. “Who said you had to get back up?” “It’s my standard.” Gramps retorted. “I’m gonna stay down unless everything else that’s important to me is taken care of.” “At least we still agree on that.” Gramps offered a curt smile as he seemed to relax. “At least we do.” The two of us just stood for a few minutes before I finally decided that it was too quiet. “You don’t know what else to say.” “Nope.” Gramps replied. “But I’ll bet you don’t know what else to do either.” “And you’d be right.” “What’s your gut telling you?” “Honestly?” I wondered aloud. “I’m tempted to beat that cocky grin off your face.” Gramps nodded at that. “And you’d be well within your right.” “I know I would be. It’s just you did a good job on teaching me to respect the concept of ‘time and place’... And I do still need your help dealing with this Enclave clusterfuck.” “Dusk, leave the logistics and planning to Jericho, Specter and Kovac.” Gramps said. “You just make sure they’ve got the ponies to pick up the guns when the time comes.” “See, that’s the hard part.” I replied. “Who do you go to? It doesn’t seem right to go to Patch and ask for a chunk of her security staff.” Gramps must’ve known something, judging by the smirk plastered across his face. “I’ve been doing some research into the salvage yard that the Chicacolt was laid up in, and it looks like they had airships regularly come in with old and worn-out equipment. If one was on the ground when the bombs fell it could be made airworthy-” “And we could arm it as a gunship.” I said as I cut Gramps off. “Exactly.” The old stallion said as his wry smile grew more defined. “Kovac already gave us a Vertibuck to take us there. We leave in twenty minutes.” “I can live with that.” I said. “I’ll go find-” “No.” Gramps said, taking his chance to shoot down my idea. “We can’t risk everyone right now, there’s just too much work to do to get the stuff here working. It’s just you and me that are checking out the yard.” “You and me?” Gramps nodded. “You know it. Besides, didn’t you just say you needed me?” I offered my own smirk in return. “Damn... You still know how to get me on-board for your little side trips.” “You’re right.” Gramps pointed out as he pushed away from the window. “But you haven’t changed as much as you think.” “Oh really?” “Really.” Gramps added. “So are you coming? I’d figure you’d want to try and prove me wrong at some point.” *** Somewhere northeast of Chicacolt “Are you sure you don’t know why it went to some small scrap joint?” I yelled over the pulsing noise of the Vertibuck’s blades. “I’m positive.” Gramps called back. “There’s nothing in the records to say why some yard called Nuts and Bolts got the ship. The records about them I’ve dug out suggest they didn’t have the equipment to even break the Chicacolt up. And here’s the kicker. The navy sent a shit-ton of bits with every hold order.” “If I’m following this right, it sounds like the Navy officially sold the Chicacolt for scrap… But was really paying to keep her stored on private property?” “You got it.” “Then how the hell did the navy get away with it?” I asked. “Even back home they’ve always had a bit more leeway than any other branch.” Gramps replied as the helicopter shuddered and the doors slid open. The two of us hopped to the hard gravel below the doors and stood looking at the yard office until the beating of the Vertibuck’s propellers became nothing but a quiet companion to the lifeless expanse of ground. “But even I’ve got to admit that keeping an obsolete cruiser hidden from the bookkeepers is a bit much.” “There’s a lot a bits to keep track of in the budget.” I retorted. “I can’t be that hard to hide a bunch of bits.” “Maybe in the middle of a war it would be.” Gramps pointed out. “But the Chicacolt got laid up a decade before war even broke out. You can’t expect me to believe that the navy could hide major expenditures of bits on a monthly basis during a time when they’re probably not spending jack shit. Even the worst accountant would see something was up.” I made my way over to the office door and tried the knob. It turned with little resistance and I pushed the door inward, revealing a dust-covered desk by the entrance. While covered in grime, there wasn’t a sign of any other clutter or disorder. And now that I think about it, the windows are still in one piece. “Something else Dusk?” “Two centuries and some change, no sign of looters?” I said, pointing at the grime-covered windows and then the desk. “That doesn’t make sense.” “You’re right.” Gramps muttered. He walked past me and ran his finger along the edge of the desk, revealing the shiny lacquer that hid beneath the surface. “And two hundred years of grime shouldn’t come off that easily. Someone’s been here… Might not have been recent, but it was recent enough.” He said as he walked around the desk. He looked over the surface for a moment before he slid open the center drawer, and I was drawn to the shiny pistol he pulled out. “Who the hell keeps a polished sidearm these days?” “No clue.” Gramps dropped the magazine out and slid it back in as he started looking over the texture on the grip. “This is an officer’s pistol. Works fine, but it was never used…” “Alright, let’s back up.” I insisted. “We’ve got an untouched building outside a major metropolitan center. Now you find an untouched and unused military sidearm in the front desk? Gramps, I got a news flash for you. Nothing here makes sense!” The old stallion nodded in agreement and put the pistol back in the desk. “We need to see if there’s any records here that are still readable.” “I’ll check out back.” ‘Out back’, as it turns out, used to be a garage if the roll-up door is any giveaway. But instead of carriages or shelves loaded with tools there were crates and filing cabinets spread among five neat rows. I tried opening one of the cabinets, but the drawer held fast. I kept moving down the middle row trying the latches as I went and found similar luck. I finally made it to the crate at the end. I flipped up the handle and tried to pick it up only to rip the handle off instead. “What the hell?” I got down on my knees and ran my finger on the underside of the lid, feeling around for some sort of release. Instead I ran my fingers across a smooth section of what felt like glass. I heard a beep, then a latch unlock and the top of the case popped up. I opened it expecting to find papers… But found a large red breaker that came through the bottom of the case. I glanced over at the lid and saw the glass that I had felt. It covered a small black casing fitted in where the latch should’ve been located. A bundle of wires ran out of it, along the side of the lid, down the back of the case and into the floor next to the breaker. “It’s a fingerprint scanner…” I muttered. “So then what does this go to?” I yanked the breaker up and threw it across it’s travel lock. It took a few seconds, but the file cabinets that wouldn't budge began to slide into the floor one after another until they formed a staircase leading down to a heavy bank vault door. As I stared into the room below Gramps stuck his head out from next to one of the ‘steps’. “Did you do that?” “No, it was my evil twin.” I replied. Gramps rolled his eyes and waved me on down as he made his way over to the vault door. “I know I’m getting old and all, but I think we’re well in the realm of weird.” As I studied the door I saw another fingerprint scanner, but instead of being hidden it was built into a panel on the wall. “Watch this.” “Watch what?” Gramps asked. I started with my thumb, but the scanner flashed red. I could almost feel the stare burrowing into my skull as I pushed my index finger onto the scanner. It flashed red twice before changing to a solid green, followed immediately by the whirring of tumblers as the vault locks came undone. “That.” “Well… You can open a secret vault with your fingerprint.” Gramps muttered. “I’m not liking this at all.” The door the vault finally swung open and revealed a rusty elevator door. “You and me both.” While the door was rusty, the elevator car most certainly wasn’t. Sure there were some papers in the far corner, but the pale blue-navy blue paint combo was as spotless as the day it was first rolled on. I stepped in behind Gramps, and watched him hit the down arrow before… Well, nothing. You’d figure the doors would at least close. “So how about that weather?” I asked, sounding as innocent as possible. Gramps shrugged and hit the button again, and stayed silent as the door slid shut. Split by the doors was a logo of an anchor sitting in a snow pile. “I’d say it’s good enough to break out the sandals.” At least he’s still got a sense of humor… “Lets be serious for a minute.” I interjected. “What do you think the logo means?” “The anchor is the navy logo.” Gramps pointed out. “I just don’t know about the snow... Could be a cold storage facility and someone got a bit artsy.” “Then who gets creative in the navy?” “...Alright, good point. Our navy is full of a bunch of stiffs.” I heard a ding and the door slid back. The lights started flickering before they finally lit up a foyer in a pale white light. The walls weren’t painted in the same navy colors; there were polished steel girders and cleaned concrete that made up the walls of the room. While clean, the foyer was completely empty. No desks, chairs, cabinets, or decorations. But there was a windowed bulkhead in the far wall and some dripping pipes hanging from the ceiling. “Who puts a window in a bulkhead?” I thought aloud. “No clue.” Gramps replied. thunk thunk thunk “You hear something?” Gramps nodded. “Damn right I did.” thunk thunk thunk I swung the shotgun off my back and clicked on the tactical light. “Want to place a bet?” “Will someone just get me out of here?” “Oh shit…” I muttered. “There’s someone down here.” Gramps looked around the room before his gaze settled on the bulkhead. “Something tells me that ain’t a door.” As we got closer to the door I took some notice of the window. At first glance it appeared to be frosted glass, but I noticed the crystal pattern that came along with ice. “Son of a bitch… Is that what I think it is?” Gramps went right to work on the glass and had it cleared in a matter of seconds. “Porter?” “Of course it’s a cryo-” Wait, he didn’t answer my question. “Who the fuck is Porter?” “Dusk, Meteor? You’re both still alive?” “How does he know who I am?” I asked. “Porter, just sit tight. I’m gonna get you out.” Gramps said, trying to sound reassuring. “Dusk, you’ve got more experience with cryo pods. Would there be a manual release?” “How would I know?” “Right…” Gramps muttered. “Cover your eyes Porter!” Now I know Gramps is a strong stallion. But to watch him start blasting a bulkhead with magic and then peeling it back like it was a sardine can is high on my list of shit that I don’t expect to ever see. “Dusk, watch out!” Gramps yelled. He flung the door back and made a crater in the wall with it. While I was distracted he reached in and hauled out a stallion wearing a black wetsuit-looking thing that clashed against his canary-colored fur and red mane. “How do you know this guy?” The stallion looked up at me with a weird look stuck on his muzzle. “Dusk, did you hit your head or something?” “Look, Porter… We got a lot to talk about.” Gramps said, trying to pull a reassurance act. “If you say so boss.” “Wait, boss?” Now that I think of it I called Gramps that when I was little… “It couldn’t be.” “Dusk? Look, I know how things seem-” “How they seem?” I retorted. “There’s not ‘seem’ to deal with here.” “Dusk, please-” “No, fuck you!” I yelled. “I’m the only one who ever called you ‘boss’.” “Well I got it from you Dusk.” Porter added. “I just don’t see what the problem is.” “Of course you don’t see the problem.” I spat. “Gramps you bastard, you fucking replaced me!” Author's Note See, that's the truth that hurts. Getting replaced by a family member who you at one point idolized. That's Dusk's problem right now. Sure he's conflicted but he'd have never thought Gramps would've replaced him. So next chapter the good General will have some explaining to do. From there we'll see more of our "cold storage" facility, find out who Porter is and why he's been on ice for so long, and start our trip to the frozen north. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Cold Hard Facts (Arc II)Secret Navy Installation, Nuts and Bolts Salvage Yard “Since when was I a replacement?” Porter asked. “No your not.” Gramps spat. “You and I can talk later. I need to deal with the loudmouth.” “Excuse-” CRACK! It’s obvious I’ve forgotten a few things about Gramps. Sure he’s a smooth-talker at time and can convince you to do just about anything, but he’s still quick in his old age and he can throw a punch. “Ow…” I groaned as I rubbed my jaw. “That fucking hurt!” “It’s supposed to hurt!” Gramps yelled. “If you hate my guts why do you even care about the misconception that I replaced you?” “Because fuck you, that’s why!” “Did Osman shove a stick up your ass during those experiments? Because you’re acting like one’s there!” “Hey, cut the crap!” Gramps and I both stopped our growing argument on a dime and turned to Porter, the only probable voice of reason in the room with us. “We’ve got far more important problems to deal with than you two acting like an old married couple.” “Like what?” I asked. “Like the platoon of soldiers still in cryo on the lower levels.” “Did I just hear him right?” “You did.” Gramps replied. “There’s whole platoon down here?” “Well it’s not a full platoon.” Said Porter. “We were one short when we went under.” “But a platoon of what? Homicidal clowns?” “Marines. Specifically a Fast Reaction Force.” Gramps replied. “You’re right on Commander.” Porter replied. "Gramps, care to elaborate a bit?" I asked. “Long story short when I was in the academy my final project was a thought experiment centered around the establishment of a fully trained naval-based commando unit meant for crisis response.” “You seriously came up with that?” “Damn right I did.” He retorted. “After you got kidnapped I took the concept and incorporated aspects of it into the Ranger Corps as an official proof of concept. The Princess gave me the green light to develop the force right after we won at Dodge City, and our Porter was going to head up the unit.” “What do you mean by ‘was’? I’m already in charge.” “Not now Porter.” Gramps spat. “The day before you got back the Porter I knew was killed by Enclave saboteurs who were trying to destroy our communications equipment. Inevitably through Porter’s sacrifice we were able catch them and boot them out of the city.” “...You said official proof.” I muttered. “What was the unofficial proof?” Gramps offered a simple sigh and he seemed to force himself to relax. “You were. All that training I gave you came right out of that paper I wrote.” “Which means you replaced me with some schmuck off the street anyway!” “I did not.” “Did too!” I spat. “You even just said he was the ‘official proof’ you jackass!” “Am I missing something?” Porter asked. “Quite a lot.” Gramps said. “Now shut the fuck up and let the adults speak.” I said without bothering to give a glimmer of focus to Porter. “Dusk, Porter was an orphan.” Gramps added. “I’d been keeping tabs on him since before the Changelings grabbed me because I was planning on taking him in. Once I got free there was so much stuff going on I couldn’t find the time to go grab him.” “And what were you doing that was so important?” “Remember that De Witt guy? You know, the one Steeljack did a piss-poor job of killing?” “What do you mean a piss-poor job?” I asked. “Ya, the fucker is alive.” Gramps said. “Trust me, even after Steeljack took off a chunk of his face I was still dealing with him. And then when Steeljack triggered the beacon spell I left on my pocket watch I came back and for most part ignored De Witt… I didn’t have the time to go deal with him once I was reactivated and promoted.” “Well fuck, now we’ll have to deal with him too!” I groaned. “I’m still lost over here.” Porter added. “And you’ll stay lost!” I yelled. “Gramps, how did you get him under your command?” “I gave him a job after he washed out of the academy.” He replied. “He was with us at Las Pegasus where he planned out and managed the perimeter around the part of the city that the Enclave irradiated. It wasn’t hard to promote the kid and bring him onto my senior staff after that.” I could keep arguing… But I still don’t know half of what happened while I got used as a pincushion. “Alright, if you say so.” “Oh, I get it. Multiverse!” Gramps and I both exchanged concerned looks and turned to face Porter. “What did you just say?” Gramps asked. “Multiverse. You two are Dusk and Meteor Shower, but alternate versions of the ones I know… Or is it knew at this point?” “Probably knew.” I answered. “But where would you get that idea? Don’t get me wrong, you’re right on the money-” “Did you read a bunch of science fiction books as kid?” “I never stopped reading them.” Porter replied. “There you go.” Said Gramps. “Our version of Porter wasn’t much different. Whenever we weren’t doing anything or getting shot at I’d catch him with a book.” “Alright, that’s great and all but we do have some other things to discuss.” “What do you mean Porter?” I asked. Porter walked over to a small computer panel built into the wall and typed away at some keys. “We need to worry about the others.” “Right… You said there was a platoon down here.” Gramps muttered. One last key clicked on the panel and the wall itself slowly slid up to reveal a large dark room. One after another a series of fluorescent lights began to click on. The first level was lined with shelves full of guns, ammo and combat armor. The level below that slowly illuminated to reveal hundreds of sets of power armor in various states of repair. And finally, the bottom of the chamber was full of rows upon rows of cryopods, just barely visible in the fog that clouded the floor below. “Wow.” That’s the only thing I could bring myself to say as I walked out onto the balcony that overlooked the chamber. “There’s enough equipment in here to arm a platoon of five hundred.” Porter said as he took a spot next to me. “We knew we weren’t going to need everything, so the rest was supposed to be either for spare parts or distribution to friendly factions.” “What do you mean by friendly factions?” I asked. “We all went into cryo about a month after the bombs dropped.” Porter explained. “We had minimal radiation fallout here initially, and we were hoping to make contact with the command structure. But there was nothing until an airship put down about two weeks into our watch… It was a navy recon picket that had been out at sea when the bombs fell. After about a week they took the civilian personnel and headed to a research base somewhere in the tundra. And with them they took the other activation key to keep it safe.” “Activation key?” “There’s two keys. I have one, but the other went with the airship commander. The plan was for us to go into cryo until such a time where they could return, thaw us all out, and bring us to the research base. Before we could go though they needed to establish that the base was safe and operational, hence the need for us to get in the pods.” “You didn’t know when they were coming back for you.” Gramps added. “We didn’t. But those pods were the best way for us to stay alive until the recon picket returned. Mine was wired up to the print scanner topside. If someone with proper clearance triggered the locks, it would wake me up so I could be ready for whoever came down to get us… Although I didn’t count on the locking mechanism sticking” “And you probably didn’t count on being in a freezer for two centuries either.” I pointed out. “Ugh…” “What’s wrong Dusk?” “We can’t leave those guys on ice.” I groaned. “We need soldiers and we’ve got a whole company staring us right in the face.” “But we can’t thaw them out without the second key.” Gramps muttered. “You want to go looking for the patrol ship.” “No, I want to go find the research base.” I said pointedly. “Who’d have the time to shoot down an airship right after the apocalypse anyway? I’d wager that at the very least they made it to that base.” “We don’t even know where the base is.” Gramps is right… We don’t know where the base is. But we do have access to records that could tell us. “Stay here.” I said as I started heading back for the elevator. “And just where do you think you’re going?” Gramps asked as I stepped into the elevator car. “I need to go make a call.” I replied as I hit the up button. As the door finally closed and the car shuddered to the start of its upward journey I let out a breath I had been holding since Gramps socked me. And in light of what I’m about to push for it might have been wise to hold it… Three Hours Later I tried to stay out of the way of the soldiers that were milling about the bunker’s atrium. But my efforts to keep my eye on Kovac, Jericho and Juno as they got the run-down of the bunker from Porter kept me in the way of eavesdropping on the conversation. The best I got was watching a bunch of nodding as Porter kept talking. “You hear anything interesting?” Gramps asked. “I wish.” I muttered. “Why the hell would Porter tell us to stay out of their meeting?” “Kovac can give us resources to try and find the missing key.” Gramps pointed out. “I’d bet that Porter is pleading his case to him in the hope of getting some sort of assistance.” “Or there’s something he doesn’t want to tell us.” I replied. After a few more minutes in silence Porter and Kovac made the short walk to join us in the foyer. “We’ve come to an agreement.” Said Kovac. “What kind of agreement?” Gramps asked. “A simple one.” Kovac retorted. “If we pick up on the return ping from the naval airship’s homing beacon I’ll allow the three of you to go and attempt to locate the missing key. If not we’ll try to devise a bypass so we can get the other soldiers out of cryostasis.” “You’re making it sound simple.” I pointed out. “What’s the catch?” “The catch is actually picking up the beacon’s signal.” Porter replied. “Dusk, the Northern Wastes is a snow ridden hellhole.” Said Kovac. “We’ve sent patrols into the tundra before. Radio communications up there are spotty even with properly functioning equipment. With that in mind our best chance of picking up the signal is an old base camp we established in the border region.” “Old base camp?” I asked. “How old are we talking?” “No one has been there in twenty years.” Jericho added as he joined the conversation. “We abandoned it and the communications equipment after an attack by a bunch of locals.” “You moved out when some locals attacked?” Gramps asked. “You haven’t seen ponies like these.” Jericho muttered. “They look emaciated, so you’d think they’re harmless… But I watched two of my subordinates get cut to pieces by those fuckers before we managed to lock down the camp. From there until extraction they were taunting us. The leader cut off one of their faces and wore it like a mask!” “So we have to fight off crazy locals while we try to ping the beacon? Sounds like a catch to me.” I pointed out. “We’ll have to make due.” Gramps said. “Kovac, can you spare a lift?” “There’s a vertibuck already waiting for you topside General.” “Well ain’t that helpful.” I muttered. “I would hope it is.” Kovac replied. “Just promise me something.” “You’re not gonna ask us to do something stupid, are you?” Gramps asked. “No, not at all.” “Then spit it out, what do you want?” I asked. Kovac offered but a soft grin at my demand. “Just come back in one piece.” *** Four Hours Later… “You’d figure that the heat would work in this thing…” I muttered as I pulled on a bomber jacket over my armor. “Its two hundred years old, what did you expect?” Jericho asked. “Do you really want to know?” I retorted. “Eh, probably not…” “Good.” The cabin went silent aside from the hum of the rotors and the wind whipping past the windows as we flew on through the cold air of the Northern Wastes. “So what’s the plan?” Porter asked a few minutes later. “Well if we manage to ping the tracker on the airship we’ll radio Kovac and let him know that we have a location.” Jericho replied. “Specter and I will hold the outpost and keep the comms running while the rest of you head for the ship. Assuming it’s still flyable we’ll just fly it out. If it isn’t we raid it for anything of value that we can fit into the Vertibuck, hope the key is somewhere on board, mark the location for future reference and get the hell out of this nightmare.” “Sounds easy enough.” Porter muttered. “Keep in mind that all of this only happens if we pick up the beacon.” Jericho added. “If we don’t, we head home and find a way to bypass the cryo lockout.” “But what about the locals?” I asked. “Will you and Specter be able to keep them out of the outpost?” Jericho chuckled. “With all of us there it shouldn’t be a problem.” “So you don’t think we’ll find the airship?” “Hell no.” He retorted. “Even if one airship survived up here for two centuries untouched we’ve had issues with communication up here for years. It’s something to do with the clouds and snow, assuming you could still call them that. They carry particles fallout and dust that screws with radio signals.” “What the hell was up here to justify that much firepower getting spent on the region?” I wondered aloud. “No one knows for sure. Hell, we don’t even have copies of records relating to some of the sites in the northern wastes simply because they were Ministry projects.” “Why would that matter?” Gramps called from the cockpit. “Most projects that the ministries ran had entirely separate security clearance from that of the Guard. We only got to see stuff if it was strictly military or if Dusk was involved in the project. It was compartmentalization on a completely different level than any of us are used to.” “And since the whole world went to hell there’s no way to tell what the Ministries were up to. Ain’t that just peachy?” “Look, let’s just skip the ancient history.” Gramps yelled from up front. “You said these locals were dangerous. Tell me more about what we’re flying into here.” “For starters, not all the locals are bloodthirsty killers.” Said Jericho. “The sane ones call them snow furies. They’re the region’s closest analog to raiders, but that’s probably a bit generous.” “What makes you say that?” I asked. “For starters they look sickly as all hell.” Jericho explained. “Most sane people would think that they’ve been imprisoned somewhere. They look like they’ve never eaten, they’ve got splotches of fur falling off and every single one I’ve ever seen has fur that's some shade of white. And to top it all off they can move.” “So they look like death but don’t act like it?” Porter wondered aloud. “Damn straight. Beyond those few simple facts we don’t have much else on these furies. To our knowledge no one has ever managed to catch a live one and question him or her on the nuances of this loose band of psychos.” I kept my mouth shut for a few moments as I tried to digest some of this information. From the sounds of it these Furies aren’t normal ponies at all. And of greater concern is their ability to function. If they’re emaciated as Jericho says, then how are they not dropping dead from severe malnutrition? How are they not freezing to death up here? I couldn’t come up with a rational answer to my own question based off of the information that I was trying to sort through. But one single thought kept finding it’s way to the front of my consciousness, one that was admittedly concerning. We’re fucked. Author's Note Finally, about damn time. We're on the way into the frozen wastes of the north in search of our missing key. Will we learn something about this bunch of uglies? Hell if I know! But we're on our way and we'll know for sure by the end of this arc. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
The North (Arc II)The Northern Wasteland, Border Region The Vertibuck shuddered as it touched down, shortly followed by the slowly dying drone of the engines. Jericho made his way to the left side of the cabin and peered out the porthole. “Alright, the outpost is still standing.” He said. I hit the release for the door and pulled it back along its run. The air immediately changed from slightly chilly to downright cold. Across my face I felt my fur begin to tingle as wind began whipping snow and ice around the Vertibuck’s cabin. “Is it always this cold up here?” “It’s usually colder if my memory is correct.” Jericho noted. “Good to know…” I muttered as I made my way across the clearing to the building. Judging by the ruins of houses surrounding it I could only assume that we were in the heart of what was once a bustling town before the Balefire ripped across the land. The one standing building, likely a government building in it’s past life, had clearly seen better days. Paint had long since peeled away and fluttered off as chips in the harsh northern winds. “What was this place?” I heard Gramps ask. “We never figured that out.” Jericho replied, followed by the slam of the sliding door on the Vertibuck against the hull as he closed it. “The building was stripped bare by the time we first found it. It could’ve been a guard post, someone’s house…” I ignored the rest of the conversation and looked around the ‘clearing’. As my glare settled on a dead bush, I thought I saw something rustle. I blinked and for a brief second it looked like there was a set of sickly red bloodshot eyes looking back at me. “I think we’re being watched.” I shouted. If anyone was in the brush, I wanted them to know I saw them. “I’m not picking up anything on EFS…” Jericho mumbled. “You sure?” “Are the Snow Furies know for red eyes?” “... Fuck. We’ve got to get inside.” As Jericho marched off towards the barred entrance to the building I shouldered my shotgun and started slowly backpedaling towards him. At least twice I thought I saw two more pairs of red eyes staring at us from the underbrush. “Can you get that door open any quicker?” I asked. “I’m working on it.” Jericho insisted. After a few tense moments the door swung open and our small group piled in before slamming the door shut. Gramps blasted the door with a bolt of electricity and managed to make a rudimentary weld securing the door to it’s frame. “Hopefully that holds…” He muttered. The two of us walked deeper into the empty building, finally finding Jericho, Specter and Porter hovering over a large computer console. “Is that the communications system?” I asked. "No, it’s the espresso machine.” Jericho droned as he typed away. “Oh… In that case I’ll take a decaf mocha swirl.” I retorted. “Very funny Dusk…” Jericho muttered. “Now how secure is that outer door? “I welded it shut.” Gramps answered. “I don’t think we’ll have anyone coming in through there anytime soon.” "I sure hope so. Those furies are tougher than they look.” After a few minutes of fiddling with the controls the console lit up with a map of the region on it’s screen. “Alright, tracking program is loaded. Porter, you have the signal?” Porter fished out a holotape and loaded it into one of the console’s drives. “Got a copy right here.” “Excellent!” As a text box appeared on the screen I could only watch as Jericho typed away at the keyboard. On the map a thin bar began slowly rotating about. “Alright, so how’s this work?” “This bar here represents the direction that the signal is being aimed in. If a return ping is received then the direction of the signal will reverse until it gets another ping, and on and on until the system gives us an approximate location of the airship.” “How long is this going to take?” I asked. Porter offered a shrug. “Probably an hour or so, and that’s assuming a whole hell of a lot.” “We’re running on an awful lot of assumptions right now…” Specter muttered. “Specter’s right. We are assuming that quite a bit is working in our favor, and we’re potentially surrounded by hostile locals.” Gramps pointed out. “Simply sitting around isn’t going to work for us right now.” “So we do a better job of securing our position.” Jericho retorted. “You could always sweep the building General, I’m not stopping you.” “It’s probably not a bad idea…” I said. “Is there anything in specific that we should check?” “Not that I can think-” HA HA HA HA! “What the hell was that?” Specter asked. I clicked on the light on the side of my shotgun and moved the beam across the far side of the room. “I don’t know.” TINK TINK TINK TINK TINK I swung my gun up towards a ventilation duct just in time to see it stop shaking as something passed through it. “I think we’ve got company.” I heard the hammers of two revolvers click in agreement, followed by two more lights that illuminated the room. “Has that scanner picked up on anything yet?” Gramps asked. “I don’t… Wait, I’ve got one!” Jericho shouted. I felt a bit at ease at hearing those three simple words. “So the ship is out there. Good. Lets hope-” UMPH!!! I felt someone slam into my side, and in the split second it took me to realize that fact I had dropped my shotgun and had slammed into a wall about ten feet away. In the time it took for me to clear my head and back to reality the ponies around me had completely changed. Out of everyone in the room, only Gramps didn't look like he was panicking. The steely gaze that he wore when I was young had made a return in the face of whatever had just hit me. But what had hit me? After realizing that the entire group was looking at someone I turned my attention in that direction. Standing in the far side of the room was a snow-white pony. It was clear that there were patches of fur missing across it’s face, but where the skin underneath that fur was the same shade of white it made it difficult to tell where fur ended and skin began. But even with the ragged dull colored clothing, what really stood out were its eyes. They were yellow and heavily bloodshot, with the tissue around its eyes clearly bloodstained And why do I continue to call this pony ‘it’? Well… I can’t tell if this thing is a mare or a stallion. This thing, this husk of ponykind, was so far gone that I couldn't even tell what side of the fence it fell on. There was no yelling, no screeching, no noise at all. That monstrosity simply set it’s demented gaze on the oldest member of the group and charged. If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought that Gramps would’ve at least looked more concerned, but his gaze remained stone-cold as the fury finally got within arms reach. As it went for his throat Gramps snapped, grabbing the creature’s outstretched hands and using the momentum of the fury to swing it right around as he pivoted around on his heels and tossed the fury across the floor. I scrambled to my feet and spotted my shotgun. With a tug of energy from my horn it came skittering across the floor before leaping into my hands. With no other clear options I aimed the weapon at the fury, now back on its feet and limping towards Gramps, and clicked the safety off. “Back off!” In the blink of an eye the fury had rushed forward and was nearly on top of me. Everything around me seemed to slow to a crawl, including the fury’s charge. I moved to get out of the way and to my shock I was moving at normal speed, and by the time I had gotten clear everything began moving normally again, and I could only watch as the fury smashed into the concrete wall face first. “How the hell did you do that? Porter exclaimed. I looked at the fury, busy rubbing it’s obviously broken nose, before turning my attention to Porter and offering a confused look. “I have no idea.” “Did you drop into SATS?” He asked I looked down at my pipbuck and saw that the standby timer for SATS was still full. “I don’t think I did.” “Figure it out later.” Gramps barked. As the fury had gotten its bearings, he must’ve decided that letting the thing keep running around would be a bad idea. So in mere moments he had the creature by the collar of the rags it was wearing, and put it face first into the concrete floor with a sweep of his legs. “Toys aren’t supposed to fight back.” The fury groaned from its place under Gramp’s boot. “Get over it.” Gramps retorted as he stepped off the fury. “Now how many of your friends are outside?” “Enough.” “Enough doesn’t cut it with me. I want a number.” Gramps rolled his eyes as the grip he had on his revolver tightened. “ CRACK! Behind me a wood covered window splintered and two bloodied white hands started tearing at the broken boards from the outside. “Oh shit!” Specter yelled. He went for his rifle but Jericho held it down. “What the hell are you doing?” “Bullet holes don’t do much to keep those barricades intact.” The frantic stallion retorted as he pulled out a knife. Once he reached the window he grabbed the first hand that came into arms length, pulled it in and stabbed the knife three times down into the exposed length of arm that it was attached to before shoving the hand back out through the hole in the barricade. He didn’t get a chance to grab the second, as the hand’s owner retreated from the danger that couldn’t see behind the barricade. With one window empty, two more hand managed to get between the gaps in the barricade farther down the wall and started clawing at the barricade. One after another this started until all six of the barricaded windows had arms and hands trying to rip the barricades away to allow their demented owner's entry. The fury got up and backed away from us towards the far wall and the shadows that offered the creature company. With a wry grin and a chuckle the fury disappeared into the shadows, leaving us with one single statement; “I told you there were enough of us.” As the furies outside slowly made progress at the barred windows I realized that everyone in the room was rather quiet. Maybe fear was kept the room still, or maybe it was there simply out of shock. But that was broken when the terminal in the room made a loud ding. “Holy shit, we’ve got the airship’s location.” I whipped around and saw the dot blinking on the screen, easily a few inches from what was represented as our present location on the map, but with no scale I couldn’t wager a guess as to how far we’d have to walk. And that right there presents another issue. If we’re surrounded by these snow furies, how do we get to the airship ALIVE while we’re getting dogged by these things? To top that all off there’s likely other obstacles in our way between the airship and our enclave. But as the cord from my pipbuck retracted I realized that Jericho had deployed it while I was distracted by my thoughts. As I looked down at the screen I saw the map had opened up with a new destination marker highlighted on it easily a few hours of hiking away. “So I guess we start walking?” I asked. Jericho got up from the terminal and hit the power to it. “Not even close. We’ll take the Vertibuck and bypass the furies.” “Did you notice what’s outside Jericho?” Specter asked. “Because just getting to that rust bucket will take a miracle.” “Then start shooting once we get out that door.” Jericho spat. “That goes for everyone. If you something move and it isn’t one of us, then shoot it.” “Wouldn’t it be a better idea to stand and fight? We’ve got a reasonably secure position that we can use to our advantage.” Gramps pointed out. Jericho shook his head. “That won’t matter once the furies break the barricades. Just… Look, just trust me. These things aren’t something to easily fight off.” “We only need to hold them long enough to get the vertibuck airborne.” Gramps countered. “Can we do that?” “Probably.” Jericho admitted. “But it isn’t going to be easy.” A quick check of the slot cut at the back of the tube magazine of my shotgun and saw that there were two shells visible. The tube held it six rounds ready to go with a seventh round already in the chamber. Would those shots be enough to help us get back to the vetibuck, or am I going to have to get primitive and fight like a pony who has yet to discover fire or pointed sticks? “As I see it we’ll be fighting those furies eventually. We might as do it now.” Jericho nodded and shouldered his rifle“Well then… Who wants to get the door?” “We don’t need a door.” Gramps replied. He quickly wound up and blasted the largest window with a bolt of white magic, obliterating the barricade and splattering parts of the window frame with the blood of the fury that was on the opposite side. The fragments of wood had only just settled into their new homes in the drifts along the side if the building once I cleared the sill and landed in snow that went up to my knees. As I struggled to sprint out of the drift I felt something latch onto my leg and trip me up. As my face landed in the thinner layer of snow away from the building I felt someone’s hands trying to pull at my boot. I managed to get onto my back and sit up to see Porter hop out the window and plant his boot into the back of what was apparently a snow fury. He stomped onto it’s arm and hauled it out of the bank. Gramps was the last one out of the building with his revolver already in hand. “That’s a mistake!” He yelled as he cocked the hammer and aimed the barrel at the pile of snow that was likely the fury’s head. BANG! The snow changing color from white to red was met immediately by the fury’s grip on my boot releasing. “Come on!” Porter yelled as he hooked my shoulder guard and dragged me to my feet. “We need to keep moving!” Jericho and Specter had already made it to the vertibuck, something that became abundantly clear as I half ran, half stumbled over to the aircraft. Both of them were sweeping the clearing with their rifles but weren’t firing. As I turned around I realized the decided lack of the snow furies that had been trying to force their way into the outpost. “Where the hell are the furies?” I asked. “No clue.” Jericho replied as he struggled with the nearly frozen lock on the vertibuck’s external door. He kept trying to chip away at the ice that was locking up the mechanism with the key franticly. “Come on… This shouldn't have frozen already.” THUNK! Before our eyes the handle on the outside of the door turned upward and the door was thrown back along it’s rail. Inside was clearly a snow fury, but it was wearing an off-colored white fur mask. Wait… That’s not fur. As the fury leap out and slammed a hook down into Jericho’s shoulder I saw the small patches of fur that had fallen off. Underneath was dried and cracked skin. There were clear bruises suspended in the petrified flesh, and dried blood around a hole in the top of the mask where a horn would’ve been. I wasn’t just staring the face of another fury. I was staring at the dismembered face of a pony I had abandoned. That thing was wearing Spark’s face. As the fury unhooked Jericho and tossed him to the side he saw me and kicked a bunch of snow into my face. I was quick to wipe the snow out of my eyes and backpedal away from the fury. It had instead grabbed Specter and tossed him on top of Jericho. When the fury turned to Porter he slammed him into the side of the vertibuck, shaking the whole craft with the impact. That’s when I noticed he dropped something in the snow. It was small and round with a square protrusion sticking out from the top. While I couldn’t tell much more in the dim light of the wastes, it didn’t take much to realize that it was a grenade. And what was best is that the fury was too busy trying to pummel Porter. Remembering the trick I used inside to get my shotgun, I pulled the explosive towards me and checked the fury hard enough to knock it into the veribuck’s cabin. “Get back!” I yelled as I pulled the pin on the grenade. As I rolled it across the floor the fury had already gotten to its feet and was scrambling towards me. I slammed the door shut and managed to turn around before I heard a thud. After that all I could hear was ringing, followed by a wave of heat that washed over me before I felt my feet leave the ground. I know I was tumbling head over heels, but how far I went was beyond me. As I tumbled through the underbrush and came to a stop on my back. I wanted to try and find Gramps and Porter, maybe make sure they were alright but the weight that crashed into me as I tried to sit up kept me on the ground. To put it simply I was exhausted. I opened my eyes and noticed something odd; a cloaked figure standing over me. In the pale light I could make out a grey beard but not much else. Maybe I was staring at the grim reaper? But as the figure walked away I saw a red flare shoot up into the sky directly over me. As the flare kept flickering I felt the exhaustion start weighing on my eyelids as they finally shut. But off in the distance, over the dim whistling of the wind through the trees I heard someone yelling “Dusk!”. But for everything that had happened I just couldn’t bring myself to care or even speak up; all I could do was let my neck go limp and slowly drift away into unconsciousness. Author's Note And there, after much work (both on the story and otherwise), is our introduction to "The North". I think that I did a decent job with the snow furies after my tweaks on the first pass. Instead of the repertoire between the fury that snuck into the building and Meteor Shower, we've got an actual fight. But of course we've got questions... Like why was the fury that hid in the vertibuck wearing Spark's face? For those who don't remember Spark was the engineer who martyred himself in the last arc when he blew the boilers on the Chicacolt. While there's no clear explanation now there will be in the fourth arc. And finally we've been introduced to two more plotpoints to consider; Dusk's seemly rapid onset of exhaustion and the bearded figure that he saw before passing out from said exhaustion. Anyone who read the codex (or the first part of Broken Mirror, which is still up in all it's flawed glory) knows that Dusk spent a bit of time with ONI and received augmentations meant for human Spartan candidates. Dusk at this point in the Broken Mirror timeline has yet to fully understand what the augmentations have done to him, and those same augmentations are definitely feeding into his "energy" issue. That'll crop up in the upcoming Arc III where it'll get a "band-aid" solution. As for our bearded "friend", he'll be cropping up from here on our. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Relics (Arc II)The Northern Wasteland, Exact Location Unknown I wouldn’t call myself a heavy sleeper. My whole life I’ve been as close to sleeping with one eye open as any pony has. But for whatever reason I found the cold ground I was lying on to be something of a relief. I had definitely woken up, but I couldn’t find the strength to open my eyes. Then I remembered the furies. We still don’t know where most of them went. At that last thought my eyes snapped open to show me the dull grey ceiling suspended above me. As I sat up and looked around I realized two things. Right off the bat was the different environment. The other was my pipbuck, or lack thereof. When I looked down it wasn’t anywhere in the room, meaning someone removed it while I was passed out. As I got to my feet I realized another point; I’m starving. The last time I felt this hungry was after two days of throwing up when I was really young… But I couldn’t have been out that long, could I? The bulkhead to the hallway was easily opened to let me out of the room. As I stepped out into the hall I saw the the Mark of the Royal Sisters plastered on the wall with an anchor in the middle. Other than the lack of drawn on ‘ice’ the logo on the wall was a dead ringer for the one back at the cryo facility. We must’ve made it to the airship and I got dragged along while I was out. I hung a right and wandered down the hallway. The lights were all on and giving off that soft hum that one associates with fluorescent lighting. So even after two centuries under the snow the ship was still functional to some extent. As the hall opened up into the bridge I could see why no one was with me; both sides of the ship had monitor banks showing camera feeds from inside and outside the ship. The one off to the left was manned by Porter, who seemed rather distracted by some sort of book. “So we found the airship.” I observed aloud. Porter snapped out of his stupor and realized that he wasn’t alone. “Hey, you’re up!” “Yes I’m up.” I spat. “Now do you have a protein bar or something, because I feel like I’ve been-” I shut up when Porter fished out the familiar packaging of a chocolate bar and stuffed it in my hands. “Thanks.” I didn’t wait to eat the candy, tearing the package open with a flick of my wrist and dumping the broken pieces of chocolate straight into my open mouth. The chunks melted on contact with my tongue, going from a brittle solid to a smooth and gooey liquid that I was easily able to wash down with some water out of the canteen that Porter handed me. “You sure that you’re alright?” Porter asked. “Other than still feeling a bit hungry? Ya, I’d say I’m fine.” “OK then…” He muttered. “Is this where you tell me how long I was out?” I asked. Porter nodded. “You’ve been out cold for eighteen hours. Six of those were spent on the back of some hull plates we salvaged from the vertibuck’s wreckage.” “Makeshift sled… Sounds like I missed a lot of fun.” I mused. “Not really. Just a bunch of snow blowing around.” I nodded and looked around the bridge. All of the consoles were on and controls were lit. “I’m liking what I’m seeing.” I said as I started strolling from station to station. “So everything is working?” “Everything should be.” Porter answered. “Meteor was just up top trying to get the ice off the communications antenna.” I nodded as I found the captain’s chair and sat down. “What about Specter and Jericho? Where are they?” Porter looked a bit dejected at that question. “Porter?” “Missing, presumed dead.” He whispered. “They were gone after the vertibuck blew up and we haven’t seen a trace of them since.” “And we have no reason to believe we’ll find them.” I turned around in the chair and saw Gramps, covered in ice and snow, coming down from an access ladder through the top of the hull. “Jericho was already injured by one of the furies and we know that others were out there. Considering how those monsters behaved I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them were chewtoys by now.” I’d offer a more substantive retort, but on Gramp’s right arm was a rather familiar piece of technology. “You're the ass who took my pipbuck!” Gramps rolled his eyes. “Good to see you too.” “What would you have us do?” Porter asked “The location for the ship was on the only pipbuck between the three of us, and someone had to drag you around on a sled.” Well, Porter does have a point. I can’t do a good job of navigating when I was in a veritable coma. “Right… So the antenna?” “It should be up and running now.” Gramps replied as he plugged the pipbuck into one of the consoles flanking the captain’s chair. The screens flickered from black to green before staying on. The display listed a radio frequency with the word “broadcast” flashing in the bottom left corner. “Go ahead Dusk.” I flicked the switch on the armrest that said “mic” and cleared my throat. “This is Dusk calling Neighfair, please respond.” zzzztttt…. “I say again, this is Dusk calling Neighfair. Please respond.” “Neighfair here and reading you Dusk. Go ahead.” Well at least the radio is working… That's a plus. “We’ve located the picket ship. From what I can tell everything is working so we should be able to fly it back.” “Dusk, Kovac here. That’s excellent. Did you manage to locate the key for the cryo pods?” “Uh…” I shut the transmitter off and looked over at my two compatriots. “Porter, did you find it?” I asked. The stallion nodded and pulled the chained key out from under the collar of his armor. “Found it on the captain’s corpse.” “...And where is the captain?” “We buried him while you were out.” Gramps replied. I nodded and turned the receiver back on. “Confirmed, we’ve got the key. However we’re coming back less two.” “Why, what happened?” “We were attacked by snow furies. Jericho and Specter are missing, and I’m assuming they’re dead.” “Well I wouldn’t get your hopes up. How far are you from their last known position?” “I don’t know, a couple miles at least. Why?” “Because I have a way to at least track Specter. Stand by…” I shut off the receiver and frowned. From what I know about Specter the Division apparently thought he was dead years ago. But now I’m hearing they can track the kid? “Something doesn’t add up…” “What doesn’t?” Porter asked. “I see where you’re going with this.” Gramps muttered. “Specter was outside of Manehattan at that old Division bunker. So if they could track him why assume he was dead?” “Are you still there Dusk?” Kovac called out over the scratchy sounding speakers. With a deft flick of the switch the receiver lit back up once more. “I’m here.” “Alright, that airship should have a doppler program in the computers for tracking adverse weather patterns while out over open ocean. What you’ll need to do is change the scanning beam’s frequency from the standard setting to 40 kilohertz. There’s a crystal fragment under the skin in his arm that will react with the signal and give you a return so you locate him. We used that to find him whenever he went wandering around the valley outside the base when he was a child and got lost. But where our equipment had a seriously limited range because it was a cobbled together assortment of parts, you’ve got purpose built equipment at your disposal. If Specter is out there you’ll be able to find him.” Gramps was already over at one of the bridge consoles typing away as a map of the area appeared on one of the main bridge displays. “Alright, I’ve got the new frequency plugged into the emitter. We just need to get above the treetops so it can do its job.” “Thanks Kovac, we’ll see what we can do. Dusk out.” As the comms array shut down at the push of a button I began assessing what I knew about the Division. They have a full military bunker with tons of stored resources and equipment to maintain a small army. Yet they needed to cobble together a tracking system for when a kid got past their impressive array of defenses and got lost in the foothills that I presume are regularly patrolled. It doesn’t make any sense. With the shuddering of the deck and the rising hum of the fans outside I realized that Porter had hopped into the pilot's seat and was ripping the picket out of the icy plot of ground it had occupied for the better part of two hundred years. “Alright, so far so good.” He called out. “Engines, power core, enviromental systems… Everything is green across the board.” I glaced down at the small readout built into the captain’s chair. The elevation was just ticking past sixty feet as the picket started bobbing lightly from left to right. “Are you sure that everything is fine Porter?” “Absolutely. The stabilizers are just keeping us on the level in the wind.” Porter explained. “And what about the doppler?” I asked, directing the question to Gramps working at one of the consoles behind me. “Well I’ve already got something.” He said as a red blinking dot appeared on the map about five miles to the east of us. “According to some of the pre-war maps I’ve been looking at it looks like there was an unincorporated village that grew up around an intersection with some minor highway. I just can’t find a name for it…” “If that village had a name it's likely pointless now.” I retorted. “What makes you say that?” Porter asked, never turning away from his controls. “A name is something that gets applied to a location or a pony that has some sort of meaning to someone.” I said, thinking back to some lessons I learned when I was a colt. “I have yet to meet a pony who describes a bag of bones by the name of the pony who they once were.” Porter was quiet for a moment before he sighed. “I don’t get it.” “Think of the wasteland like a skeleton.” Gramps said as he walked up next to me. “What we see down there is the remains of the world that was wiped away by the bombs. The ponies that gave that land worth are all dead after their generation helped destroy it. Hence its worthless.” Porter seemed to be deep in thought before he flicked a switch and turned around to face the two of us. “So let me get this straight. Because the ponies that called it home are dead, any name that these old towns and villages once went by are pointless simply because the ponies that lived there are dead?” “I think that about sums it up.” I said. Porter didn’t say a word, instead opting to turn back to the helm. Gramps must have been staring at me because I started feeling a bit uneasy. “Is something wrong?” “Not at all.” Gramps said. “I’m just glad you still remember some of those ethics and philosophy lessons I gave you.” “Well there were those talks and you teaching me how to swing a sword without cutting my own head off.” I retorted. “Beyond that I don’t think your homeschooling included much else.” “Well there was the occasional bit on classical literature-” I cocked an eyebrow at that, thinking back to those lessons in particular. “I didn’t think that the books on military strategy you dug out of your closet from your time in the academy counted as ‘classical literature’.” I retorted, making a fair bit of a point with my decision to include air quotes. “Well… Alright, I see what you mean.” Gramps admitted. “But do you at least realize why I taught you those things?” Well that’s a rather stupid question… “Because you wanted a worthwhile way to continue serving your country?” “Exactly, and I wanted my family to be there with me.” “Then why didn’t you come back for me?” I asked. “I thought you were dead after that shitshow in the Badlands. If the Changelings were holding you Mom and Dad hostage, why not come back to make sure I’m OK after you got away?” Gramps knelt down next to me, obviously coming to the realization that standing over me wasn’t helping anything. “There were two reasons for that. The first was to make sure I didn’t lead any Changelings back to the factory in Manehattan and put you in danger. Ponies don’t just escape Changelings without repercussions, and you parents and I were dogged by drones up until Steeljack triggered the beacon spell I had in my pocket watch.” Well that’s fair enough… “You said there were two reasons.” “The other was De Witt.” Gramps admitted. “You know, the psycho that I told you earlier that you guys did a crappy job of killing?” My memories turned back to the villa just over the border with the Griffon Kingdom where we first found Dart and the other captive servants that were held there. “In our defense most living creatures don’t survive a bullet to the head.” “I know that, but De Witt isn’t most Griffons." Gramps said. "Hell, up until the Midlothian Ridge incident I considered him a friend.” Midlothian Ridge? I haven’t heard that one in a while. “You mean where the Griffon commander snapped your horn off?” Gramps nodded. “As a matter of fact he was that very commander who nearly killed me.” So let's review for a moment, shall we? In just under a minute I’ve found out that the Griffon that originally took off my Grandfather’s horn was at one point his friend. Almost six years ago now Steeljack and I ran into that very same Griffon who apparently survived getting shot in the head, and the family whom I thought had all died horrific deaths at the time were actively trying to deal with said Griffon while apparently being aware of my own activities to some extent. “Lets just stop right there with the new information for now, alright?” “I take it your head is spinning?” Gramps asked. “And yours wouldn’t be?” I snapped right back. Gramps shrugged. “No, I’d be in similar straights myself.” Well at least I don’t have to worry about more stuff getting dropped into my lap at an inopportune time… But I’ve got one glaring issue that needs to be addressed. “Can I at least ask you a question?” “Sure.” “How’d you know that it was me and Steeljack had tried to deal with De Witt?” Gramps chuckled. “Remember how Blueblood came to you, what was it, five years ago now? He offered you a blank check in return for acting as the strong arm of Royal Intelligence? Well believe me, I’ve known the colt a long time… All it took was a letter to Celestia and a dinner meeting between the three of us to make it happen. Not only that but I could ensure that you’d be safe at a time when I wouldn’t have been able to guarantee you that safety.” “That explains a lot…” I muttered. “Are you two done yet?” Porter called from the helm. I looked up at the map and realized we had quickly covered the few miles between the ship’s original resting place and Specter’s supposed location on the map. Assuming that the center of the map represented the location of the airship, we were already hovering right above Specter. “Well then… What’s down there?” Porter shrugged. “No idea.” So I’m potentially dropping down into a crowd of ravenous snow furies. That sounds like fun. “Can you at least cover me?” I asked. “Um…” Porter got up and hopped into the weapons control station off to his left. After fiddling with a joystick and flicking a few toggles he turned around and nodded. “The ventral machine gun is showing green and the turret camera is working. If I see anything down there I should be able to hit it.” “Dusk, aren’t you forgetting something?” Gramps asked. Am I? “Shit, we need to get down there…” “What about the cargo bay?” Porter asked. “There’s a crane in there for lifting loaded pallets into the hold. You could drop the line and rappel down, then I could pull you guys back up with it when you’re done.” “It’ll have to do.” Gramps said. “Dusk, you up for it?” It's almost like Gramps was presenting me with a choice, but I know him well enough to not expect to get that choice. Below us was a certain fight, but for what I still don’t know. Will we be trying to save our companions, or will we simply be fighting over scraps that were once ponies in an attempt to bring some closure to this excursion. “Dusk?” I finally decided I needed to answer the old stallion. “Damn right I’m up for it.” Now let's wrap this trip up and go home. Author's Note We're only one chapter away from wrapping this arc up and heading back to warmer climates south of the border. And in the mean time we've introduced some more facets to Dusk's rather cool relationship with his Grandfather. Assuming that people reading this took a glance at the first part of Broken Mirror, Meteor's return was met with Dusk snapping his arm in a fit of rage. While he now is in a position to ask some important questions as to why he was abandoned for so long that doesn't mean he'll immediately forgive his family. For the moment he'll have to put those hurt feelings aside to ensure that the efforts in the Wasteland don't go to waste. There's also that point about Kovac having an ability to track Specter. That there is the first bit of information that actually bugs Dusk. As we know from the epilogue to Part I and the prologue to Part II Kovac is no friend and has a sizable force of synths at his disposal. But in the context of the time where the Wasteland missions occurred, Dusk didn't realize that. This point on tracking Specter planted that initial seed of doubt and led Dusk and those around him (eventually including Specter, Jericho and a number of other Division members) to question Kovac's allegiances before discovering the truth at the eleventh hour during the final battle against the Enclave. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Define "All Right" (Interlude II)Archer Location Unknown As I began to realize that I was no longer seeing through Dusk’s eyes back at Neighfair, I started to feel more like… Well, me. I wasn’t stuck in the body of some other pony anymore, but I was back sitting on the stool in the mist-filled room. I looked around and noticed that I was alone with Dusk nowhere to be seen. “Hello?” In a flash of light Dusk reappeared with a new garb. Instead of the human-supplied armor he had worn he had gone down to cargo pants and a sleeveless top that looked like it was made of the same material as his armor’s undersuit. “Sorry, had to go take care of some errands.” He said. Well that’s an interesting point. “What sort of errands?” I asked. “You’re a ghost that’s in my head.” Dusk simply shrugged. “Oh you know, messing with reality and hiding away some tools. Oh and if anyone asks you where the new magnum and armor came from, don’t tell them shit.” “Wait, what armor?” With a snap of his fingers a black suit of some rather unusual looking armor formed out of the mist along with a silver pistol. “You’ll find a case under your bed back at the hotel. In it you’ll find this suit of combat armor and this pistol. The armor itself is a spare set of Marine combat armor that’s been in the store room for years. It’s form fitting, water resistant, and I made some tweaks to the helmet so it has a heads up display. If you take it apart you’ll find that the guts of a pipbuck are making it work.” I nodded and grabbed the floating pistol. “And what about this?” “That is a gunfighter variant of the Human-designed M6H. The smart-link module has been removed, leaving just the iron sights. That slide is a lot lighter now so you’ll find that the fire rate has picked up over the stock model. And without the hand guard there’s nothing for the armor’s gloves to snag on. With it you’ll find four loaded magazines with twelve rounds each, which should be enough for now.” I nodded and sighted the pistol like how I’d been shown by Dad countless times before. We had a few of the magnum pistols like this that I’d been taught to shoot with and even in this dream-like environment I could definitely tell that the pistol would be far lighter. “It’s a nifty little thing…” “It’s also the only pistol I’d carry if I were you.” Dusk advised. “That armor weighs just about ninety pounds, so anything else will just be dead weight.” As the armor and pistol dissolved back into the mist that they had been formed from I could only nod. “So no dragging around a rocket launcher… Got it.” Dusk smiled and proceeded to ruffle my mane. “That’a girl!” I grabbed Dusk’s arm and pushed him away from my now distressed hair. “What happens now?” I asked. “Well…” Dusk droned. “I think current me and your Dad are trying to get that hundred-pound barbell off you.” I didn’t even realize that the setting changed until I blinked the crust out of my eyes. I was staring up at a white panel ceiling as someone off to my right struggled to lift a heavy weight off me. “Come on, come on!” I heard my father mutter. “Move you piece of shit!” Dusk finally stepped into view, still wearing the undersuit that came with his human-designed armor. “Hey there Archer, what’cha doing?” I could only roll my eyes as my arms were pinned under the bar. “Oh the usual round of stupid shit.” I managed to turn my head off to the right and realized that my father was frantically getting nowhere as he struggled to get a grip on the weight itself. With a heave I managed to get the weight to roll down my chest and free my arms. With nothing else holding me down I managed to slide out from under the weight and get back to my feet… ...Only to immediately get caught in a choking bear hug by my frantic father. “Thank the Godess you’re alright!” By the time I realized that my feet were off the ground Dusk had decided to get involved and separated me from my father. “Cosmo, weren’t we talking about something earlier?” Almost immediately my father’s face changed from an expression of relief to a visage of absolute concern. “Right, we were.” “Mind telling me what’s so concerning?” I asked. My father and Dusk exchanged glances only for Dusk to sigh. “I think that the exposure to the memory orb has done something to you.” Well this will be a fun discussion… How do I tell them that a ghostly copy of Dusk came back from a future grave to help me stay sane as I still processed the orb’s memories? “Like what?” I asked, trying to look as confused as possible. “I don’t know.” Dusk replied. “But just in the few hours since you’ve been up I’ve already seen some changes. For instance you’ve stopped fidgeting when you’re standing around doing nothing.” A lack of fidgeting? That’s the big concern? “Alright… That’s it?” Dusk shook his head. “You’ve also developed the same smile that I’ve used when I know that something is up but want to make it look like nothing is going on.” “Which this genius keeps calling creepy.” My father added. “Dart, I’m worried about you. Are you sure that you’re all right?” I just shrugged, mostly in an effort to deflect any further questions. “I think so…” Dusk and my father exchanged looks once more before my father decided to make a move. “Maybe I should take her home. It’s already been a crazy night-” “But what about the synths?” I asked. “We’ve still got to do something about them.” Dusk furrowed his brow at that. “You may be right Archer, and I have no issues with you helping us. But you’ve had the definition of a wild night. Maybe some rest will do you some good.” Well I can’t argue with that… Tonight started with a simple party so Dusk could get engaged, but instead turned into a massive clusterfuck. “Well all my stuff is back at the hotel…” “I’ll have one of the troopers give you a ride.” Dusk replied as his expression softened. “Does that work for you Cosmo?” Cosmo nodded. “As long as I can tag along with my girl.” “What?” I asked, the confusion now setting in. “You’re a target now Archer.” Dad pointed out. “I wouldn’t be doing my job as a parent if I didn’t make sure that you were safe.” *** Half an Hour Later, Canterlot Royale Hotel I didn’t wait for Dad as I flung the door to my hotel room open. Hell, I knew that he was behind me but I didn’t really care. At this point I need to prove to him that I’m equipped to protect myself, and I know just the tool to use. Dad shut the door behind the two of us as we walked into my suite and I could tell just from the tense atmosphere that he was thinking about something. “You weren’t entirely honest with us back there.” He said. Well I could probably attribute this to his uncanny ‘dad-sense’. “You’re right.” I said as I got down under the bed. Right before my eyes was a large black hardcase, I pulled it out and tossed it onto the bed. Dusk certainly wasn’t kidding, that armor is definitely heavy. “Uh, what’s that?” Dad asked. He was standing next to me as I undid the latches and swung the case open. Sitting on top was the gold-visored helmet that capped off the armor, four loaded magazines and the pistol that the Ghost-Dusk had promised. “It’s a full set of Marine combat armor and a gunfighter magnum.” I replied as I picked up the pistol. Yup, still just as shiney as in the dreamscape. “And just where did you get this stuff?” Dad asked. I turned around and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll tell you on one condition.” Dad pulled up the chair that was next to my nightstand and plopped himself down. “Name it.” I took a deep breath and steeled myself for a potential backlash. “What I tell you stays between you and me, no one else.” But there was no argument. Dad simply nodded. “If it means I figure out what I can do to help you, then you’ve got a deal.” Alright… That was easy. “I’m still going though the memories that I picked up from that orb. I’ve already gone through Neighfair and the Northern Wastes salvage mission. The only reason I’m still sane is because there’s a little Ghost-Dusk from the future that’s throttling everything back so I don’t get overwhelmed, and he can apparently manipulate reality because while I was out after that barbell dropped on me he said that this case of equipment would be here. And to top it all off you probably think that I’m absolutely insane and I’ll end up like the orb’s test dummy!” Wow… That was a lot. But instead of the abject horror that I’d expect Dad to be exhibiting he instead looked worried. “Dad?” “And I thought that I’ve seen some crazy shit in my day…” He muttered. “So where did this ‘Ghost-Dusk’ come from?” “He said something about getting blown up between universes.” I said. At that Dad started to look more worried. “Is there something I should know?” “Kovac wanted Dusk to escort him to Canterlot with a live Havoc nuke…” Dad muttered. “This ghost, did it say anything about the Nexus?” “Nexus?” I asked, the word not ringing any bells. “I’ll take that as a no then.” Dad sat back and seemed to put something together in his mind. “He must want to do something with the Nexus… And eventually did something. That’s the only thing that could tie everything together.” “But what’s the Nexus?” I asked. “The Nexus is a concentration of energy situated beneath Canterlot Castle.” Dad explained. “Other than having amazing healing properties it’s a bridge between different universes. As Celestia put it, the Nexus only exists because it's a point of intersection between universes. If a future Dusk passed through that portal and something happened in that void… Who knows what could happen, but from what I can see that’s a distinct possible explanation as to that extra voice in the back of your head.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t work that way dad.” “Oh really?” “Really.” I insisted. “I have to either be sleeping or unconscious to be able to interact with him.” “Hmm… So it’s a dream state.” Dad muttered. “I’ve got an idea.” I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. “Mind telling me what you’re planning?” As Dad’s horn lit up he simply smirked. “I’m thinking that some dream walking is in order.” *** Location Unknown… Well now I’m back in that mist-filled room. But I’m not alone this time. Standing next to me, in the old Desert Ranger outfit that is in his armory display case, was Dad. “Since when did you learn dream magic?” I asked. “Luna taught me and your mother the tricks as our wedding gift.” Dad explained. “She was concerned with your constant nightmares at the time and thought that the parental touch might produce better results.” “Did they?” Dad nodded. “Although I’ve got to admit, your nightmares were all sorts of messed up.” “Hey, what the hell?” The ‘Ghost-Dusk’ exclaimed as he materialized. “How the hell did you bring a passenger?” “Dreamwalking.” That was all that Dad had to say to get Dusk to deadpan. “Right… Luna’s wedding gift. I take it that Archer told you what was going on and you thought that she was crazy?” Dad shook his head. “I never thought for a moment that Archer was crazy. But I needed to confirm something.” His horn flashed, but nothing happened. “Well that confirms it… You’re the real deal.” “A dream check?” Dusk muttered. “Alright I’ll hand it to you, that’s a clever way to make sure I’m real.” “I’m glad you thought so.” Dad admitted. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, what’s on the docket for tonight?” “Huh?” “What?” Dusk and I must have been wearing the same looks because Dad was simply wearing a shit-eating grin. “Well you’ve covered Neighfair and the salvage mission. What happened after that? You’re showing Archer all this stuff for a reason, so why quit if I’m here?” Well Dad has a point. “What did happen after you found the picket?” I asked. “The Enclave launched a counterattack against Chicacolt.” Dusk immediately rattled off. “But you both can tell there was more to it…” “That goes without saying.” Dad pointed out. “So how does this whole thing work?” “Well you’ll be a spectator to the memories, while Dart will see everything from my perspective.” Ghost-Dusk explained. “After they run their course we’ll end up back here.” Dad offered a curt nod. “Sounds simple enough.” Dusk offered a simple grin as my vision began to fade to black. “Believe me Cosmo, what you’ll see is far from simple.” Author's Note And there goes the second Interlude gents!. For now I'm off to the editing role and working on E-201. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Chaos (Arc III)Neighfair Three Days after Northern Wasteland debriefing Since our meeting with Kovac I’ve otherwise avoided the stallion. I’m not entirely sure what to think at this point, but after a day I brought Gramps up to speed on what as discussed, as he was otherwise occupied when the debriefing took place. While he agreed with what we decided, he did stress that we can’t jump to further conclusions until Kovac gives us more reason to doubt him. Simply put we sit back and observe. And when not working with Porter’s Marines, that's exactly what I did. I watched, I listened, and I assessed. It was textbook covert recon. But that couldn't have been kept up forever, as Kovac decided to pay us a visit this morning. Apparently he had made an agreement to assign patrols to aide the ponies at Theater secure their territory for the duration of our stay in the Chicacolt area a payment for their aid in taking Filly’s Pier. And as he saw things everyone should contribute, himself being included with the first patrol that was sent during my absence. And now my team is walking into the same settlement that we first started out from a number of days ago on our march to Neighfair. But this time we were far better equipped. We had a handle on the territory and there had been no reports of Enclave or raider activity since Neighfair had been brought under our sphere of influence. I did get some looks from locals as we walked through the front doors. With my leather armor otherwise unrepairable I had procured one of the spare sets of combat armor that the Marines had brought with them from their bunker… And it was that unusual shape that was likely getting me most of the confused stares. I ignored them, continuing our march to Patch’s office. When I took a look through the open door her chair was turned away from us. “Come in.” Patch called out. The six of us walked in, and Patch spun around to face us. “So you’re this week’s contribution to the patrols?” I nodded. “From what I’m told they got going while I was gone.” “They did.” The green mare replied. “But do you know why I asked for them?” “Extra security, considering we haven’t done much for the power balance around here.” I offered. Patch nodded. “Glad we’re on the same-” At that moment Patch’s radio chirped. She picked it up and clicked it on. “Go ahead Lilith.” “Has that patrol showed up yet?” Patch simply tossed me the radio. “We’re here now.” I replied. “Good.” Lilith replied. “Meet me out front, we’ve got something to go check out. I’ll tell you more when you get here.” “Then we’ll see you in a few.” I said, handing the radio back to Patch. Walking past the same locals, the looks were still there but they seemed to fade once they noticed that we were leaving the building. Once we walked back out into the Wasteland sun, we found Lilith sitting on a chunk of concrete in the middle of what was once a street. “Glad you all decided to join me.” “Just tell me what we’re doing out here.” I said, rolling my eyes. Watching as Lilith fished out something from a pouch on her combat armor, she handed me a black piece of metal. “What do you think that is?” I rolled around the chunk in my hands and shrugged. “Broken piece of some sort of armor, I think.” “You’re right on.” Lilith replied. “But who wears black armor?” An image of an enclave soldier wearing a hulking suit of power armor flashed across my mind. “West Wind’s soldiers are in Chicacolt?” Lilith nodded. “There have been some hits on our outposts in the city over the last few days. We only managed to get a good look at the attackers early this morning.” “Then where’d you get the piece of armor?” Steeljack asked, having taken a seat on the steps. “Just how do you think I figured out that it’s the Enclave we’re dealing with?” Lilith retorted. “Fair point…” Steeljack replied. I handed the chunk of armor back to Lilith. “Where’d you find them?” “About an hour walk that way.” Lilith said, pointing off down the street that led deeper into the ruined city. “I did run them off though, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to catch up.” “So they ran?” That right there doesn’t sound like an expected Enclave move. “Did you have a small army with you or something?” “No, not at all.” Lilith replied. At that point I heard something hit the ground and bounce off my boot. I looked down and saw a drab green ball with a rectangular protrusion out of the side of it. “Oh shit.” I felt my magic flare as I blew everyone off their feets and away from the device, before inverting a shield around the object. BANG! I felt the shield I made shatter and I was knocked back onto the stairs by the blast of what was clearly a grenade. I shook off the cobwebs and smacked my ears, the ringing dying down with each hit.”Is everyone alright?” “We’re not dead.” I heard Dart groan as she hauled herself to her feet. “Did anyone see who threw that?” I got to my feet, pulling Steeljack up with me. “Can’t say that I did.” Comet and Strike were already on their feet with weapons raised. “ Movement. Storefront across the street, second floor.” Comet called out. “I see it.” Strike replied. The two stallions pulled the triggers on their submachine guns, and nine millimeter rounds started flying out and smacking against concrete and broken bricks that clad the outer walls of the ruin across from us. At that point I saw some sort of glint through a broken window. It took another moment, but I realized what was looking at us. “Sni-” BANG! I felt a splatter against the side of my face, followed by Steeljack steadying himself against me. I looked over, and saw a red gash running down the side of his head, blood pouring from the wound. “Oh shit…” I managed to catch Steeljack in time to keep him from hitting his wounded head on the stairs. I ran my fingers and felt a sigh of relief pass my lips as I realized that Steeljack had only suffered a grazing wound. “I need some bandages!” Steeljack pulled a rag out and pressed it hard against the gash. “Did anyone catch that license plate?” He muttered. I tore the rag from Steejack’s hands, tearing it into two strips which I tied tight around his head. “Nope, looks like a hit and run.” I replied as the white rag began to turn a wet and light red. Three ponies rushed out the door of the settlement, two of whom started shooting immediately. Patch was the third, kneeling down next to Steeljack immediately once she realized what had happened. “Shit… What happened?” “Near miss from a sniper round.” I said. BANG! “Agh!” I heard someone shout. I whipped my head around just in time to watch my grandfather crash to the broken pavement in an undignified heap a few feet from the base of Theater’s steps. “Gramps!” Dart slid along side the old stallion and hoisted him up on her shoulder. “Everyone inside!” She yelled as she dragged the General up the stairs and into the building.Patch dragged Steeljack to his feet and followed the other green mare’s lead. I looked around the battlefield as I got to my feet. I hoisted my shotgun to my shoulder before lowering the weapon. Buckshot won’t do me any good at this range. “Comet, Strike. Fall back!” I yelled. “Got it boss!” Strike yelled as he backpedalled past me up the stairs, firing the whole way. I turned around and ran up the stairs and back inside. Comet passed me while Lilith stopped at a handle at the far side of the interior. “Someone give me a hand with the shutters!” She yelled. Dart ran forward, getting the handle on the right of the entrance and started pulling, revealing the dented and rusty armored shutter to daylight. As she and Lilith were just about to close the shutter completely there was some sort of flash that blinded me. By the time that the effect had worn off the shutter had been completely closed… But I could make out the distinct smell of burnt fur and flesh. As two medics rushed forward I saw Dart lying on the floor… Her face blackened and smoldering. That's when it hit me. That flash wasn't a bright light, it was a fireball. And Dart was on the receiving end. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to move from where I stood. I was too entranced by the scene playing out before me. There was only one logical explanation as to my hesitation, and it became even clearer as Dart was rolled onto a stretcher. For the first time in a long time I felt pure unadulterated fear. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. *** One Hour Later… “They’ll recover.” The Doctor’s words ran though my head since he said them to me half an hour ago.Out of all of our wounded Steeljack was the luckiest, as his gash was tied closed with a number of stitches. Gramps had suffered a bullet wound to his left thigh, the sniper round having cut right through his armor. They would likely be out of the infirmary within the next day or so. Dart wasn’t so lucky… Her face had suffered significant damage from what apparently was a thermobaric rocket that hit the shutter just as it closed. Her hair and fur had been torched off instantly, and the outer layer of her skin had suffered extensive third degree burns. The doctors had applied a burn cream before wrapping her entire head with gauze. Even with that Dart had to be sedated due to the immense injuries that she had suffered. It was either keep her unconscious or let her agonize from her wounds. While he assured me that Dart would live, I couldn’t rightly believe him as I sat over the mare. “Dusk?” I turned around in my chair and saw Patch standing in the doorway to Dart’s room. “Can I borrow you for a few?” I glanced down at Dart, before getting up and trudging out to deal with Theater’s leader. I quietly closed the door and sighed. “What do you want Patch?” “To help me deal with Comet.” She said, motioning for me to follow as she walked off down the hall. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Just what did he do now?” “He’s been questioning the security staff.” Patch explained. “Specifically the crew that was on duty when Lilith ran into the Enclave this morning.” “Sounds like he’s trying to understand what happened to Lilith before we showed up.” I observed. “What’s the problem with that?” As we rounded the corner into the lobby, I saw Patch shake her head. “He’s been interrogating them. The stallion that was on the comms already had his nose broken. I’ll give you three guesses as to who threw the punch.” Now that’s a problem, and a bit out of character for what I remember of Comet. “You said he was interrogating the crew that was working this morning. Has he said anything to Lilith yet?” “It’s just a matter of time until he does.” Patch replied. As we reached the door labeled security, she pushed it open and led me inside. Compared to the rest of the settlement, the security office was clean and orderly, a clear sign that the staff took care of what they had. In the center of the room was a conference table. Lilith was seated at one end, while Comet was at the other. Strike was pacing around behind Comet, likely concerned that he would do something else rash. Yet for a stallion that had apparently decked one of Theater’s guards Comet looked cold and impassive as he read something on the clipboard that he was holding. “You and your ponies are pathetic. Did you know that Lilith?” Comet said as he placed the clipboard down on the table. Lilith looked offended. “You want to run that by-” “Shut up!” Comet roared, his expression turning to pure fury before returning to that same cold expression that he was wearing when we walked in the door. “Lets run down the evidence, shall we? You used unsecured communications channels this morning after encountering the Enclave force. You then received information as to Blaze Squad’s imminent arrival over that same frequency. And who attacked us shortly after arrival? The Enclave, likely the same team that you claim to have ‘run off’. Do you see what I’m getting at?” Lilith shook her head. “How about you enlighten me?” Comet cracked what looked like a smirk as he leaned forward. “The Enclave picked up your transmission. In essence your communications confirmed to their leaders that we had pursued them here. In response that team was dispatched to either cripple or eliminate our team, and you lead them right to us. And judging by their equipment and tactics it is clear to me that we’re dealing with a Pathfinder unit. So congratulations Lilith, you may have helped doom this mission to failure.” “Well I’m sorry, but fuck you!” Lilith yelled. “I was responding to a threat as I saw-” “And your response lead to us getting fucked over.” Comet snapped as he rocketed up out of his chair. “So what are you going to do about it?” I may be a bit naive, but now might be a good time to step in and prevent a fist fight. “We’ll do what we always do Strike.” I said as I stepped over to the side of the table. “We’ll improvise, we’ll adapt, and we’ll survive.” Strike seemed to calm down, but shook his head. “Dusk, these are Pathfinders were talking about. I’m sorry but we just can’t handle them at reduced strength. And if they’re here, I suspect that an Enclave battle group isn’t far behind them.” “Enclave battle group?” Patch asked. “So you think that we’re staring down an assault?” “I know we’re staring down an assault.” Comet retorted. “We were pursued by a Pathfinder team in Hoofington years ago, right after we sent Cosmo and Sky through the portal to our world. They kept us off balance, and a battle group showed up a few days later. They sent a small army after myself and Strike, just for the purpose of capturing us. If they did that then why wouldn't they make a stronger response knowing that the special forces team that has fought them at every turn of our war was not only present in the area, but is clearly assembling an army? I’m sorry Miss Patch, but the Enclave are going to come down on this city like a hammer on a nail.” “He’s probably onto something…” I admitted. “We need to get word to Neighfair, tell Kovac what we’ve run into. If the Enclave really is coming, we need to be ready.” “I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting him.” Comet said. “Vertibucks are deploying teams to surviving highrises across the city. With luck we’ll see them coming.” Suddenly the stallion’s radio chirped. “Looks like our ride is here…” “What ride?” Patch asked. Comet and Strike both ignored the green mare and walked out into the lobby. “I should follow them.” I observed, turning and following my old friends out into the lobby. I managed to get out in time to see them pass through the narrow gap in the armored shutters, held open by security officers. As I got closer I could hear a distinct and familiar hum, and it only got louder the closer I got to the exit. “They better not have done what I think they just did…” But my concerns were only validated as I stepped outside into the shadow of the hulking grey airship that had come low enough to use the makeshift elevator that had aided our escape from the snow furies only a few days prior. And both Comet and Strike were standing on that platform staring at me. “Are you coming or what?” Strike yelled over the din of the turbines. While I’ve got a bad feeling about this, why bother asking when you know what the answer will be? *** As the makeshift elevator came to a stop in the cargo bay I got the first real look at the changes that had been made since I was last aboard. For starters, all of the clutter had been removed and the walls had been painted a soft blue. Light bulbs had been replaced, fully illuminating all corners of the old airship. And the cargo bay had found a new purpose as a passenger compartment, with makeshift benches taking up the space once occupied by crates. Porter’s marines had definitely made good use of the past few days if appearances were to be a judge. As I followed Comet and Strike down the hall and onto the bridge, more changes were revealed. For starters the Captain’s chair had been jacked up on a pedestal to give whoever sat in it the ability to see everything happening on the bridge simply by turning his or her head. The floor had been scrubbed down, and slick shine of silver plates once more graced the interior. But most impressive of all was the windows that lined the front of the craft. No longer were they crusty and clouded with caked on dust, but they were as crystal clear as the day that they had been made. And considering the environment, that’s an accomplishment to be commended. “Welcome aboard E-201!” Porter said as he walked onto the bridge behind us. “What do you all think?” Comet glanced at Strike before turning to face the marine commander. “It’s adequate for my purposes.” “What purposes?” I asked. “Going down in flames against a Raptor?” Porter looked perplexed. “Do you even know why we’re here?” “He doesn’t.” Comet replied, strolling over and hopping up into the Captain’s chair. “Helm, bring us up to 100 feet elevation and set heading to 185.” “185…” I muttered. If I remember my naval doctrine correctly, that’s going to point us south out of the city. “Comet, now would be a good time to bring me up to speed. What are you planning?” As the airship shuddered upwards, Strike turned to face the outside world. “Strike and I did more than simply recruit Cosmo and his associate. We made some friends during our travels, and they all owe me a few favors. We’re simply going to go collect on them.” Author's Note That was a quick way to kick off the ark, wasn't it? And now we're setting up the change in Dart's hairstyle... Which we'll see more of soon. Like in this piece that Pabloracer did for me; But now we journey south to the Badlands to gather some reinforcements. The next chapter will be short but will introduce our cavalry and the plan that Comet is cooking up. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Favors (Arc III)Five Hours Later… While I still don’t know why we were over the Badlands, I took notice once I heard the engines start to spool down and felt the picket shudder as it slowly descended to the earth below. For most of the trip I had secluded myself in the Captain’s cabin, using the time to organize my thoughts. A short walk out onto the bridge and I saw that we were landing just outside of some sort of farm. “Where are we?” I asked. “A few miles south of what used to be Las Pegasus.” Comet replied as he got up from the Captain’s chair. “Remember that Cosmo used to be a member of the Desert Rangers?” I nodded. “Ya, he left when he was young and headed north with Sky.” As a wry grin developed on Comet’s face, he nodded for no apparent reason. “Well as it happens Strike and I just so happen to be friends with them.” I followed Comet down the hall to the cargo bay, where a ramp had dropped on either side leading to solid ground below us. “So these Desert Rangers, they’re the ones who owe you the favor?” Comet nodded. “To be honest Dusk, Strike and I didn’t spend a full two years in Enclave captivity. We managed to escape after about a week and took shelter with these Rangers.” Strike joined us once Comet and I reached solid ground. “Then how were you two aboard that Raptor?” I asked. “Did you think the two of us wouldn’t jump at the chance to try and get back home?” Comet asked. “When we caught wind of the Enclave’s operation… Look, long story short Strike and I boarded the ship and allowed ourselves to be captured. You found us about a day later.” As I mulled over Comet’s words, two ponies stepped out of the farmhouse ahead of us. Both wore gear that was identical to both Comet and Strike. As we got closer I noticed that the pair were definitely older, looking to be middle-aged. “Is that you Comet?” The stallion called out. Even off to the side I could tell that Comet’s expression had turned to one of pure glee. Every time I’ve been around him since I came back he still wore that same neutral expression… “Damn right it is Rune!” Comet replied as he walked up and wrapped the stallion, clearly a pegasus, in a bear hug. “We did it Rune, we actually got home.” Even Strike looked happy, reaching out and shaking the mare’s hand. “A pleasure as always Miss Sunny.” The older mare smiled in return. “Still as charming as ever Strike…” The mare stopped when she saw me and nudged the stallion next to her. “Rune, is that who I think it is?” ‘Rune’ finally noticed me, but retained that same grin as he let go of Comet and stepped forward. “You must be Dusk.” I nodded. “I am… And you two are friends of Comet and Strike?” “What Ranger wouldn’t call them friends?” Rune asked. “These two helped solve our food supply problem. Without them we all would’ve starved!" Comet tapped Rune on the shoulder, his smile slowly fading back to his regular expression. “Exactly… Which is why I’m here.” Rune and Sunny must’ve realized what Comet meant as both their smiles turned to something far more serious. “So then you managed to keep up your end of the bargain?” Rune asked. Comet nodded and fished a photograph out of his jacket, handing it to the other stallion. “I thought she was dead for a while, but lucky for me your daughter doesn’t know how to be discrete.” Daughter? What daughter? That question swirled through my mind as we walked inside and took a seat at a dilapidated kitchen table. Sunny was the last to join us, having gone to a radio on the counter and sent out a message to all corners of the desert. “So where is Sky now?” Sunny asked as she sat down. I finally put the pieces together. We originally recruited two former Rangers, Cosmo and Sky. But Sky was buried outside of Vanhoover… At least so I thought. “Sky’s alive?” I asked. Comet looked confused for a moment before he realized that I really didn’t know what he was talking about. “Yes, she is.” He replied. “King Sombra found her bouncing around from club to club about four years ago. I only figured out who she really was after I ran into her during the attack on Baltimare about two years ago.” “King Sombra?” Rune asked. “You mean the same one from the history books?” Comet nodded. “Yes, the same king. I guess he was under some sort of influence that Princess Celestia managed to help break.” “Can we back up for a minute?” I asked. Comet nodded. “Sure, what’s wrong?” “You said that Sky has been tagging along with Sombra for four years… What has she been doing?” “Body guard duty if the intelligence reports are anything to go off of.” Comet said. “But up until Baltimare, every known sighting of her with Sombra indicated that she was in full gear. Hell, the intel wing thought that it was Cosmo running around with him at first.” I sat back and nodded. “Then what made them realize that it was someone different that they were dealing with?” “Because one of the analysts realized that Cosmo had been in a completely different part of the country when one of the reports came in.” Comet explained. “After that the ponies tailing Sombra kept trying to identify his ‘ranger’ with little success.” “You said that you found out it was Sky in Baltimare…” I muttered. “How’d you figure it out?” “One of the Enclave raiders got the jump on her. I picked up on the distress beacon that she triggered and showed up in time to see her helmet get knocked off her head. Long story short Strike and I tag-teamed the raider, then Sombra showed up to save Sky’s ass. She did ask about Cosmo, but all I could tell her is that he was still out there… I guess she had been trying to find him in her spare time, but Cosmo just was too good at covering his tracks.” Rune got up and grabbed a silver flask off the shelf from behind him. “That’s all I needed to know.” He said as he sat back down and uncapped the flask. He took a quick swig and passed it to Comet. “You kept up your end of the deal, so we’ll keep up ours. Even if the others hang back, Sunny and I will help you deal with the Enclave.” “Thank you Rune.” Comet said before taking a swig from the flask. “So while I was gone were any of you able to dig up more on the Pathfinder project, or did that info get handed off to Applejack's Rangers as you intended?” “Last I checked our power-armored friends were investigating, but we haven’t had time to go north and see what sort of progress they’ve made.” Rune replied. “We’ve been otherwise occupied with another project.” “You mean that Raptor?” Strike asked. “What are you doing, stripping it for parts?” “On the contrary, the others just finished repairing the drive systems yesterday.” Sunny added. “It was a pain in the flank scrounging some of those wrecks for parts, but we did it.” Suddenly my radio chirped to life. “Porter to Dusk, we’ve got a contact coming in from the southeast. It’s a raptor!” “Tell your pilot that he can calm down.” Rune ordered. “That would be our associates coming to join us.” I flicked the radio and sighed. “Take it easy Porter. I’m being told that they’re friendly.” As a shadow cast outside and the hum of turbines finally made themselves known, followed by the sounds of metal groaning under immense weight I couldn’t help but sigh. “I really hope this’ll be worth it…” I muttered. *** Where E-201 was clean and tidy after Porter’s crew had worked their magic, this old raptor was easily the polar opposite. It was dirty, light fixtures were broken and the walls were marred with patches of rust. As Rune explained, the Desert Rangers had discovered group of crashed Raptors some time after his daughter and Cosmo journeyed north. Only after Comet and Strike had allowed their recapture had the loose group of ponies decided to get the lead Raptor back in working condition, as it was still relatively intact. Salvaging parts from the hulks of the two others from the long-abandoned squadron, the Desert Rangers have in three years taken an abandoned relic of the past and managed to turn it into a working airship, although one could readily admit that the old craft had certainly seen better days. Yet as we stood on the bridge with Porter, Rune and the rest of the Desert Rangers I got the impression that most of the ponies gathered didn’t care about that final detail. They actually seemed jubilant, having conquered time and decay itself and managing to restore the cloud cell that allowed the Raptor to fly. Both feats were certainly admirable, and were rendered as even more impressive when the limited technical expertise of these ponies was considered as a factor. But of all the Raptors that I had been aboard, this one was different. Being a squadron leader, this one ship had an advanced holographic mapping system. While I couldn’t tell how it worked, it definitely worked as it was designed. “Strike, are you almost ready?” Comet asked. The flightless pegasus crawled out from under the map table and flashed a thumbs-up. “Whenever you’re ready Comet.” The earth pony nodded and punched up the map of Chicacolt. “Fillies and Gentlecolts, you all know why I’ve returned.” He said. “The Enclave… In my world we managed to drive them back, but they’re still a threat. My friend Dusk here has been helping gather allies to combat them, which is why I stand before you all once more. As I speak an Enclave battlegroup is headed for the ruins of Chicacolt to launch a counterattack.” He punched a few keys and the map zoomed out, showing a group of seven red dots slowly moving towards the city from the west of the city. “As I speak a battlegroup centered around one of the last remaining Thunderheads is en-route to the city and will be there inside of a day.” “So you know this for a fact?” I asked. Comet nodded. “This old Raptor still has working access codes to the Enclave network. According to the dispatches they’ve assembled a group around the Victorious. If that ship reaches Vanhoover we won’t stand a chance.” “So what are you thinking?” One of the Rangers asked. “We eliminate Victorious from the equation.” Comet explained. “Using E-201 we’ll deploy a boarding party to the Victorious. We have two objectives, the primary one being to eliminate that ship. To do that we’ll blow the main reactor with demolition charges. But while we’re doing that, the second team will storm the auxiliary command center and take control of Victorious’ weapons array. Until that reactor is ready to go, the second team will turn the guns against the Raptors and do as much damage as they can. Once the reactor is ready to go we’ll extract via E-201 and break off the engagement.” I’ll admit, it’s a simple plan that if properly executed will go a long ways to dealing with the Enclave threat. “But how are we going to survive getting close enough to that Thunderhead?” I asked. That’s when Strike smirked. “We’ve got a present that’ll fix that.” He fished out two golden metal disks from his jacket pocket and placed them on the table. “I found these when I was going through the cargo containers that we pulled off of E-201.” I looked at the disks and noticed a purple sigel of a shield carved into the center of both. “Strike… Would you care to share with the rest of the class?” I chided. The pegasus nodded and handed one of the disks to Rune. “These are shield talismans. According to the Captain’s old logbook, they discovered these in a destroyed MAS lab outside of Manehattan. They just never had a use for them so they were never installed.” “It could work…” Rune admitted. “How long will it take to get them installed on both ships?” Strike shrugged. “At least four hours to get both installed and tied into the control consoles. It’ll take us the better part of a day to get back to Chicacolt, so we could probably install and test them while en route.” Rune nodded. “Well I know where I stand…” He turned to face the rest of the Rangers and shrugged. “Who else is in?” At first I thought that the other Rangers thought that this idea was too crazy to work… But one by one ponies stepped forward and found open bridge stations to go to work at. There was finally one younger stallion left who just shook his head. “Unless I’m mistaken there isn’t any more chairs.” He said. “Does that mean that you’re out?” Rune asked. “Hell no!” The stallion replied. “Just show me where to stand Rune, if everyone else is going I’m sure as hell not going to sit on my ass.” As Rune walked towards the helm with the stallion I noticed an expression on Comet’s face. It wasn’t neutrality or anger… No, this was something I hadn’t seen since we were kids. Comet didn’t look like that same reserved stallion that I had flown down here with. This was Comet, proud and ready to take on the world with a gusto I hadn’t seen in a long time. And you know what? That actually makes me feel a hell of a lot better. Author's Note Well that was simple and straight forward... And set up another side story for whenever I get around to it. I've put some thought into what Comet and Strike did before the events of Part I, and I think this could make a good segway for whenever I eventually write that story. Next time, Blaze Squad the Rangers take the Victorious! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Victorious? (Arc III)Chicacolt Outskirts, aboard E-201 Five Hours Later… The sun was already setting below the horizon by the time we could see the monolithic ruins of Chicacolt once more. In the orange glow of the evening sun I couldn’t help but think for a moment that the city was burning… “Sir, we’ve got contacts due northwest.” The helm officer called out. “One large cloudship and six escorts.” “That would be our battlegroup.” Comet replied as he flicked the comms switch on the arm of his chair. “Rune, we’re coming up on those Enclave ships. Is your crew ready?” “Ready as we’ll ever be.” Rune’s voice crackled out over the radio. “At least we’re on the same page…” I heard Porter mutter from the weapons control station. Comet pressed a few buttons on his armrest and sat back. “Second Division, this is E-201. We’re coming back on station, what’s your status?” We didn’t get a response, not even static over the radio. “Second Division, please respond.” zzztttt… “E-201, this is Radiant Star. No one has been able to raise the Second Division or the Marines for the better part of the last hour and there’s Enclave soldiers advancing on Theater, and I'm cut off in the north end of the city.” “Shit…” I heard Comet groan. “Rune, change of plans for now. We’re diverting to the settlement of Theater to assist the locals.” “But what about that Thunderhead?” Rune asked. “It can wait until we get the situation at Theater under control.” Comet replied. “Now follow us in and keep us covered!” I saw Comet get out of the chair and wave to both Strike and myself. As we walked back to the cargo bay I could tell that Comet seemed frustrated. “You’re doing the right thing.” I said, trying to reassure my friend. “I know we are Dusk.” Comet replied. “But this is a diversion. The longer we spend at Theater the more time the Enclave has to deploy their resources. All this does is make it exponentially harder to get the Enclave out of Chicacolt.” As we stepped onto the ‘elevator’ a thought crossed my mind. “What if it was exponentially harder for the Enclave to take Theater?” The platform shuddered and slowly began to descend out of the belly of the picket. “And just how do you propose we do that? Find a friendly drag-” Comet stopped once he said those fateful words and saw the smile on my face. “We can call Spike.” “Great minds must think alike, eh?” I said, nudging my companion’s arm. Comet nodded. “It could work… What do we need to do?” “When we met I did give him one of our radios.” I admitted. “If we can send him a message on our frequency, he might hear it.” “That’s assuming we can send a signal far enough for him to pick it up.” Strike added. “We’re almost a hundred miles from his cave, and I seriously doubt that your Pipbuck has the needed broadcast range.” The elevator shuddered to stop as the platform touched down in the street outside of Theater. “Lucky for us our friends do.” I retorted. Comet tapped Strike’s shoulder and pointed at the front door. “Go see what you can do.” Strike nodded and marched off, while Comet and I turned and started walking down the street. “What can you tell me about these Pathfinders?” I asked. “They’re a type of commando unit” Comet replied. “They’re trained to be self-sufficient while in the field. They mainly act as scouts for Enclave assault groups, identifying strategic targets and eliminating individuals who may prove to be a threat.” “So they’re hit squads by another name.” I muttered in response. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Comet nod curtly. “If they’re in Chicacolt I can safely argue that the Enclave is playing for keeps. At bare minimum they’re aiming to eliminate the threat that we pose to their operations just by being here.” “Bare minimum?” I asked, sticking the content of Comet’s statement. “Do you think they’re here to do something else?” “Honestly? Probably kill as many locals as possible.” Comet said with a shrug. “This is essentially a power move… The best way to scare others from messing with you is by leaving a massive body count behind.” I grabbed Comet’s shoulder and forced him to stop. “Do you honestly believe that?” Comet shrugged in response. “Dusk, we’re talking about a militaristic power in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. The only thing here that ponies respond to is strength. You and I may not agree with it, but hundreds of dead bodies sends a message to anyone who understands the concept of strength.” Off in the distance I could hear the pops of rifle fire echo off the ruins. While I tried to focus on the noise and started walking again, my mind kept drifting back to strength. Strength can be interpreted in many different ways, and it's definitely clear to me that leaving a massive number of casualties in your wake can be interpreted as a show of that same strength. But what’s the point to it? Killing innocent ponies isn’t going to scare the lot of us off. If anything we’re sick of the Enclave making victims of innocents, which I’d argue is why we’re here. If anything an attempt at some form of genocide is going to piss off at least me, and likely the rest of my team. If the apparent Enclave plan is to remove us from the field, then why give us another reason to go after them? I felt Comet grab and yank on my collar, pulling me behind a pile of crumbled brickwork and glass. “What was that for?” I snapped as I swatted Comet’s hand away. He pointed around the pile of rubble. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m sure that the ponies in power armor would just love to meet you.” A quick glance out from behind cover proved Comet right. “Shit, what do we do?” I asked as I ducked back behind the pile. “There’s six of them and two of us.” Comet replied. “We need to sit tight and see what they’re doing. Once we have an idea we can go from there.” “Alright, move it!” One of the soldiers yelled. “He’s not talking to us, is he?” I asked Comet. He shook his head. “No. I think they’ve got prisoners.” The two of us peered around the rubble just in time to watch two familiar faces get forced down onto their knees. “What, no dinner and a movie?” Gramps joked. “What about Steeljack? Are you finding this just as annoying as I do?” “Shut up!” The soldier yelled as he smacked Gramps across the face. “Now where’s the rest of your squad?” Gramps shrugged. “Dead, hospitalized, disinterested… Honestly I’ve got no clue where everyone else is.” I grabbed Comet and pulled him back behind the rubble. “We need a plan.” Comet pulled out his radio and depressed a red button on the top of it. “Distress beacon is running. If we’re lucky Porter will pick it up and come with help.” “So we’re supposed to wait?” I asked. “Need I remind you that we’re outnumbered?” Comet retorted. I rolled my eyes and switched the safety off on my shotgun. “Just stay here. I’ll take care of these bozos.” As I stepped out from behind the rubble and shouldered my shotgun, two of the other soldiers saw me and pointed their weapons at me. “Drop your weapon!” I shrugged and turned my attention to the armored soldier standing over Gramps and Steeljack. “Are you the one in charge here?” I asked. The soldier nodded. “You must be Commander Dusk Light… I’ve got to admit, your file made you out to be shorter.” “You and I should know that you can’t always trust intel when it comes to small details.” I chided. “Now how about you let my friends here go. I’ve got a lot to do tonight and I do need their help.” The soldier shook his helmeted head. “I’m sorry Commander, but I have my orders.” I nodded. “And what would those be?” “To eliminate the leadership of the alliance that’s forming against our interests.” The soldier replied, pointing his pistol at me. “I’m sorry sir, but I have orders to remove you from the equation.” “You just said that you needed to eliminate the leadership of this ‘alliance’.” I replied with a wry smirk. “Hate to break it to ya, but I’m not the brains of this operation.” I saw the barrel on the soldier’s gun droop down slightly. While I couldn’t see his face, it's obvious that my words might have distracted him for a moment. At least to the point that he isn’t fully focused on his firearm. But judging by the stance of the other five of his compatriots, only the leader seems to have stopped to think. But as soon as it came the soldier tightened his grip on his pistol and I saw the barrel float back upwards to its level position with the ground. “And why should I believe that? You’ve already made direct threats against the General in that radio message last week, so you must be up to something.” The leader asked. “You said you’ve read my file.” I replied. “So you should know I’ve been back in the field for what, a bit over a week? That isn’t enough time to put together an army.” “You’re also known to be a charismatic individual. What’s to say that you didn’t turn the charm on with those Division punks?” The leader asked in return. Off somewhere behind me I could hear a hum, just barely becoming louder and louder. “You’re forgetting something there my good stallion.” “And just what would that be?” The roar of turbines went from a dull barely-audible hum to a low roar as the old picket passed over the ruins and came to a stop directly above the group of ponies. “You forgot the Marines.” While the Enclave soldiers were distracted Gramps seized on the opportunity. He sprung up from his kneeling position and knocked the leader in the center of his chest, knocking the distracted pegasus to the ground. By the time the other soldiers realized what was happening he was already in the middle of disarming his second opponent. As the soldier’s partner tried to sight his rifle on Gramps, Steeljack rushed forward and checked the armored stallion. Without the direct threat of an armed soldier ready to shoot, Gramps managed to use the opportunity to wrench the plasma rifle out of his opponents hands and wheeled around to face the stunned pegasus that Steeljack had knocked back. But in the grand scheme of things it looks like these soldiers aren’t going to be bothering us for a while. The leader was already back on his feet and was already airborne, heading away from us and the supporting airship hovering above the street. As the last of the Enclave soldiers took off after their leader, Gramps started waving his captured weapon at them. “Thats right, you better run!” He yelled. Comet finally took the opportunity to come out from behind the pile of rubble that he was using as cover. “Well that’s not something I’d expect…” He said, sounding slightly concerned. “What’s the problem?” I asked. “We just ran off a squad of soldiers that were far better armed than we were.” “The problem here is that Pathfinder teams don’t turn tail and run.” Comet replied. “Something’s up, that much I can guarantee you.” “Comet is definitely onto something.” Porter’s voice chimed over our radios. “We’re picking up radio chatter from across the city. It sounds like the Enclave’s ground troops are pulling back.” “That can’t be good.” Steeljack observed. “You’re right Steeljack.” Porter replied. “We just confirmed it with Rune… Our radar has just picked up a second Thunderhead moving on the city.” “Then they don’t need ground troops.” Gramps observed. “They’ve got enough firepower where they can level what's left of Chicacolt.” “Then we need a plan, and we need one badly.” Steeljack added. “Anyone with an idea, feel free to speak up.” “We were going to board the Victorious…” I said. “But I get the feeling that we won’t be able to get close enough with the picket so we can get on, at least not now that there’s another Thunderhead to worry about.” Through the brief conversation Comet remained silent. “Porter, where is that second Thunderhead?” “It’s coming in from the south. From what we can tell it looks like the thing is all on it’s own.” Comet seemed to stop and think. “Comet, do you want to share with the rest of the class?” He finally nodded. “Porter, patch me through to Rune.” His radio flashed a green light and his expression seemed to smooth back to it’s neutral standard. “Rune, head to the south side of the city and try to jam the Enclave communications.” “Copy that.” Rune said. “We’re diverting now.” “Good…” Comet muttered. “Dusk, you and Strike are going to be our boarding party. While we turn everything we can towards keeping the Enclave ships divided you two will storm the bridge and take control of the helm. Then you’re going to stuff that one right down the Victorious’ throat.” I couldn’t help but be taken aback at Comet’s sheer brazenness. While I remember moments of both bold idealism and brilliance when we were younger, what he just suggested is borderline suicidal. “Comet, are you all there?” I asked. To my own internal horror Comet nodded. “Earlier I told you that ponies around here respond to strength. Believe me, the Enclave isn’t any different.” At that point Comet started looking… Well, darker, as his neutral expression turned to a scowl. “So when they see those two Thunderheads dying in a fireball over the ruins, they’ll learn very quickly that we aren’t to be messed with.” Author's Note Another shorter chapter, but the next one will be far longer. We'll learn why the Pathfinders were established, and the first Wasteland encounter of Blaze Squad and the Enclave will come to a fiery conclusion. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Fireball (Arc III)Somewhere over Southern Chicacolt Half an Hour Later The deck under my feet shuddered and the picket shook slightly from side to side. In the back of my head I kept running through scenarios for how storming the unidentified Thunderhead would play out. “Ten seconds to drop!” Comet called out over the radio. The hatch in the side of the picket slid open and wind began whipping around the vestibule. “You ready Dusk?” Strike asked. As I looked out the open hatch and down at the top of the Thunderhead I nodded curtly. “Let's do it.” The picket slowed to a stop a few feet off the top of the ship and shuddered as explosions from flak shells rocked the vessel. “Boarding party, the light is green!” The drop down to the upper hull of the Thunderhead was only about ten feet, but it felt farther once I realized just how high up the cloudship was. My boots hit the hull with a thud and the wind kept whipping around and dulling the reports of the cloudship’s anti-aircraft weapons. I felt Strike tap my shoulder, and I turned around to see him pointing at a hatch in the hull. Luckily for the two of us the hatch opened with little struggle and we were able to drop into the interior of the dimly lit Thunderhead. So far there were no signs of any crew, and it didn’t look like our entry had set off any alarms. “Dusk, you good?” Strike whispered. I nodded and started creeping down the hallway after the pegasus. The dull thuds of the AA guns came in sync with the rocking of the deck plates, likely a sign that they were the source of the motion. “So how do you think it’s going out there?” I asked. Strike shrugged as we kept creeping along. “It’s probably anywhere from great to absolutely horrible. There’s no way to tell from where we are.” As the two of us rounded a corner the corridor opened up into a large room lit by sunlight. Strike stuck his head out around the corner before rapidly withdrawing and clicking the safety off on his submachine gun. “Looks like the bridge…” He muttered. “Only three officers, all unarmored.” I swung my shotgun off my back and nodded. “We can take them.” Strike nodded and ducked around the corner. “All of you, show me your hands!” To my surprise the three officers did just that. Their hands shot up like rockets at Strike’s order, and they all stayed pointing skyward. As I made my way up to the closest one I recognized an important fact. “Strike… These colts aren’t pegasi.” As Strike circled the trio he came to the same realization and nodded at me. “So what are you three doing on a cloudship?” “Wrong place at the wrong time?” One of them offered. “Well no shit.” Strike spat as he steadied the stock of his gun against his shoulder. “Do any of you have some other bright-sounding answer?” All three of the stallions shook their heads and I offered a sigh on instinct. “As much as I would love a good answer, I don’t think we’re getting one.” “Then you do your thing, and I’ll keep Moe, Larry and Curley here off your back.” Strike said, and he immediately began shepherding the officers towards the corner of the room with the barrel of his gun. As Strike did his thing I stepped over to the helm station. Glancing down at the compass I could tell that the cloudship was locked into a straight course that would likely parallel the other one that it was operating alongside, and the craft was moving ahead at a dismal fifteen miles per hour. “Doesn’t look like these guys are planning on getting anywhere quickly.” I observed aloud. “Hey, we were just told to maintain the speed and heading that we were given.” One of Strike’s prisoners insisted from across the room. “Then who’s controlling the weapons?” Strike asked as he shouldered his weapon again. “Well there’s a pathfinder team that’s been hanging out down in the engineering section.” The same stallion offered. “Chances are they’re the ones doing all the shooting.” “Strike, we can’t just leave.” I pointed out. “We need to get those pathfinders to come to us, otherwise this little raid won’t go anywhere.” “Then do you have any ideas?” Strike asked in return. I started pacing around the deck in a small circle. “Just give me a minute…” As I kept pacing my imaginary circle on the deck I caught sight of the controls. They were still set to maintain the slow and straight course over Chicacolt. “We need to mess with the flight controls!” “Ya… Take the ship off course and those pathfinders will have to come up here to investigate.” Strike said as he realized where I was going with my plan. I turned back to the control sticks and wrenched the left one as far back as I could get it to go, and the deck started to shift as the entire cloudship began to bank and take us towards the other one that the Enclave had operating over Chicacolt. “Bridge, what the hell are you doing up there?” “Oh, nothing important.” I said after hitting the intercom button on the control panel. “Wait, who the hell is this?” “You’re worst nightmare!” Strike yelled from across the bridge. BANG! The intercom panel exploded in a display of sparks, set off by a bullet from Strike’s own weapon. “Was that necessary?” I asked. “Well they’ll certainly come to us now!” Strike yelled, and as much as I loathe to admit it he’s right. We’re about to get very busy… *** Ten Minutes Later… “They’ll come to us now he said…” I sarcastically grumbled as Strike and I ducked behind one of the bridge consoles. As plasma bolts petered out as the hit the other side of the console I heard Strike sigh. “Would you rather that these guys be shooting at us or Chicacolt?” “I’d rather they not shoot anyone at all!” I spat. Somewhere on the other side of the bridge I heard the shuffling of feet, likely the bridge crew escaping. “And I’d rather we not lose prisoners.” “Well I’m sorry, but isn’t this circle of greatness a bit more important than a harmless bridge crew?” Strike asked, motioning at his face. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “If you say so…” For a moment I tried to catch a look over the top of the console, but a shower of sparks from a plasma bolt forced me back down behind my cover. “Now how do we take care of these Pathfinders?” “I was hoping that you had some ideas.” Strike countered. “Do you have any grenades?” I asked, only for Strike to shake his head. “Any explosives at all?” “Dude, we’re traveling light. Explosives didn’t top my list of things to bring with me.” Strike replied. As a series of boots smacked against the deck, it was safe to assume that the Pathfinders were now on the bridge. “Alright, come out with your hands up!” One of the Pathfinders yelled. I recognized the voice as the officer that we had faced earlier. “Well can you answer a question first?” I called out. “What are you doing?” Strike whispered. “I’m buying us some time.” I whispered back. After a few moments I heard the leader clear his throat. “What’s your question?” “What’s the deal with you Pathfinders?” I called out. “Until today I haven’t seen Enclave soldiers act quite like your team.” For another few moments there was silence, before the leader finally decided to speak once again. “You’re to thank Commander Dusk. If you never found a way to our world, we would’ve never have thought to go to yours.” “Wait, so I’m the reason that you Pathfinders exist? Better yet how’d you find out about our first trip?” “It was kind of hard for our spies to miss your escapades out in the wilderness. Not everyone digs up a corpse to steal its brain after all.” The leader replied. “Once you left it didn’t take us long to find the portal that was in the labyrinth under Tenpony Tower.” “You had the one on our end destroyed after Cosmo arrived, didn’t you?” Strike whispered. “I did.” I whispered back. “But we didn’t trash the one on this end… Which means that the Enclave must have reverse-engineered it.” “So is that it?” The leader called out. “That’s all you wanted to know before we kill you?” “Well why come to our world?” I yelled back. “You’ve seen what we’re living with, why wouldn’t we go for your world?” The leader retorted. “Our entire society is dying, and your appearance gave us hope that we could actually survive. We don’t need to muck around in this hell anymore!” “So that’s what all of this is about, survival?” Strike called out. “You could’ve always just asked for some help!” “Sorry, but that isn’t how the world works.” The leader replied. “The strong survive while the weak perish. We’re simply the strongest, hence our continued survival.” “Well so far we’re still alive. How’s that bode for your so-called strength?” I retorted. “I don’t know about you but I think that means we’re the strongest!” But as two of the armored Enclave soldiers rounded the console with their plasma rifles trained on both myself and Strike, that momentary confidence started to wane. “Or maybe it’s just dumb luck?” “Maybe it is…” One of the soldiers muttered. “What are your orders boss?” “Isn’t it obvious?” The leader asked as he peered down at Strike and I over the top of the console. “We can’t leave these loose ends unattended.” “You’re right, we can’t!” Someone shouted, before a set of hands grabbed the leader and tossed him from view. The other two turned to face… Whoever it was that just tossed their boss around like a ragdoll, but didn’t do anything. They didn’t get the opportunity as they were grabbed by a white-colored field of magic and got ripped across the bridge, making dull-sounding thuds when they hit the wall. “What just happened?” Strike muttered. With silence came a distinct lack of answers, so I got to my knees and peered over the top of the console. “Uh… Strike?” Off to my right I heard my pegasi companion offer a low whistle. “Well you don’t see that every day…” The ‘that’ was a pony wearing a tattered black cloak standing over a now headless Pathfinder. The other two were out cold in the opposite corners of the bridge, showing no outward signs of life. In the hand of this pony was the helmeted head of the lead Pathfinder, while the other held a bloody glowing blade. “You two can come out now.” The pony said, his voice sounding old and scratchy. As Strike and I stepped out from behind the console the deck began to tilt under our feet. “And just who are you?” “Who I am is unimportant Commander.” The old pony replied. “What is important is your mission, and it can’t be completed so long as these two war machines bear down on your friends.” After a few seconds of studying the old bearded pony I finally came to a realization. “You’re the one who saved me back in the Northern Wastes.” “Glad to see that you recognized me.” The pony replied. “Now I believe that you were planning to teleport off this craft to the safety of one of the nearby rooftops.” “How’d you-” “It doesn’t matter how I know. Get going, I’ll make sure that this cloudship keeps its appointment.” The pony stepped forward, grabbed the helm controls and began manipulating them. As he worked the sticks the deck began to rock and bob about. “Now what are you waiting for, an invitation?” “But what you’re planning-” Strike didn’t get to finish his protest as I grabbed the collar of his jacket and forced a quick change of scenery. As our boots hit broken concrete, a shadow that was hanging over the cityscape disappeared as the hum of turbines slowly faded off into the distance. As Strike turned around I heard him mutter something unintelligible. “What did you say?” I asked. I turned and saw the two Thunderheads on a collision course. “I said what you’ve planning is suicide.” “You’re not kidding…” I muttered as the two Thunderheads closed on each other. As the one we had just departed from smacked into the side of it’s companion, the distant sounds of crunching metal could be heard echoing about the city. “Have you ever run into anyone that looked like him?” “You mean our Cratwellian buddy? Can’t say I have.” Strike replied. He was silent for about a minute while the two Thunderheads slowly crashed into the lake that bordered the northern part of the city. “You said something about him saving your ass?” I nodded. “In the Northern Wastes, I got my ass beat. I was about to pass out when I saw him standing over me, firing off a flare gun. That’s how Gramps and Porter found me… But I thought I had hallucinated that pony.” “There was obviously more to it.” Strike pointed out. “You could say that…” I replied, cutting my comment short as the wash of turbines knocked about some of the loose bits of concrete and debris. “But we’ll talk about that more later. Right now I get the feeling that we’ve got places to be.” *** Neighfair, Two Hours Later… Since being brought back to Neighfair, Kovac had Comet, Strike and myself secluded with Jericho in the infirmary. Within thirty minutes the rest of my team was herded into the cramped room and we all stayed there for the ensuing hour and a half. Suffice to say there was some discussion regarding the pony that Strike and I had encountered on the bridge of the Cloudship. It took a few minutes but both Jericho and Specter recognized the description of our mystery pony. Over the span of the last two hundred years there had been a number of encounters with an individual that the Second Division called the Mountaineer. All of the descriptions going back to just after the unit established itself in their mountain fortress of this individual were identical. That begs a simple question; who is the Mountaineer? He certainly doesn’t look like a ghoul, but I also doubt that we’re dealing with a single individual. More likely we’re talking about a progression of ponies that style themselves after a predecessor. As Jericho finally finished his explanation of this ‘Mountaineer’ character, the door swung open and Kovac finally joined us. “I’ve got some good news.” He said as he shut the door. “Don’t keep us in suspense.” Jericho chided. “Well our scouts managed to recover some Enclave communications hardware.” Kovac explained. “They had a lot riding on those two Thunderheads, and losing both eliminated a significant tactical advantage that they had. That’s why West Wind has ordered all of his forces back to Canterlot.” “They’re retreating?” Gramps asked. “That's what it sounds like.” Kovac admitted. “But we can’t let them take the opportunity to dig in and regroup. If they do, defeating them will become significantly more difficult… Tomorrow morning, we go to war.” Author's Note So that's it for this third story arc! Was it short? Yes, but that'll change for the next arc. We'll focus on the attack on the Canterlot ruins, a period that puts some more focus on Dusk and Steeljack. The working title for that arc is "The Initiative", and we'll finally see Kovac become the villain that he's been established as. In the intervening time I've pumped out a grand total of eight complete chapters with a ninth in progress for the successor to Broken Mirror, Reflections. But before we get to that we've got another interlude chapter coming up! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Greater Purpose (Interlude III)Dusk, Present Day The Grotto “And you’re sure that we’ve got nothing?” I asked, directing the question at the technician that was managing the large displays at the head of the control room. “I’m sure Commander. Thermal imagery isn’t showing anything, and our ground teams are reporting that the factory is empty. Kovac and his synths are gone.” “That sounds like a bit of a problem…” Dart muttered. “That might be an understatement.” I observed. “If we don’t know where Kovac is, then we can’t take him out… And who knows what he could be doing.” While I made my point I saw the door to the command center open out of the corner of my eye, and two familiar figures entered the room. “Did you two sleep well?” “As well as you could expect given the circumstances.” Cosmo said. “Now whats going on?” “We just lost track of a homicidal maniac.” Dart chortled. “You know, kid stuff?” “Kovac disappeared?” Cosmo said. “That's a bit of a problem, don’t you think?” “Well no shit.” I countered. “So he pulled a trick out of the Mountaineer’s book… What’s the big deal? He’ll show up eventually.” Archer pointed out. “Well you’re-” I stopped dead once I fully processed what Archer had said. She brought up the Mountaineer, the pony that had saved my ass on two separate occasions during the Wasteland mission… And I never said a thing about him to Archer. “You’re not wrong.” I said, finishing the thought that I started a moment before. “But we still need to worry about Kovac. If he’s out there and we can’t find him… Everything is gonna go straight to hell.” “Alright, I’ll put some agents on it. If we’re lucky they’ll find something.” Cosmo said as he turned and led Archer down the hallway. Dart stepped out of the command center as both Cosmo and his adopted daughter walked out of sight around the corner. “Is something wrong?” She asked. “How could Archer know about the Mountaineer?” I muttered. “We never got that far, and I haven’t said anything else to her about the Wasteland since this business with Kovac started.” “What about the memory orb? Wasn’t that part of what you programed it with?” Dart asked. “Shit, you’re right…” I muttered. “She must be retaining what was in that memory orb. Dart, this could be a major problem. If Archer snaps like the last colt who used that thing-” “She needs to be quarantined until we know what’s going on with her.” Dart pointed out. I nodded in agreement. “Alright, I’ll handle Archer. You keep tabs on the Kovac situation.” As I started walking off after Archer, Dart grabbed my shoulder and stopped me. “Just be careful.” She whispered. I flashed a cocky grin almost on reflex. “You got it babe.” *** Ten Minutes Later… Actually tracking down Archer and Cosmo proved rather difficult, something that should have been rather easy considering that I know the Grotto like the back of my hand. But after about ten minutes of wandering I managed to find Cosmo and Archer in armory, where Cosmo was running through field-stripping drills with his daughter. As they worked I just remained silent, and there wasn’t any indication that they knew I was there. As Archer clicked the slide back into place on what looked like some sort of magnum, Cosmo nodded in approval. “Forty five seconds… Not bad.” He said as he took the pistol from his daughter and examined it. He pulled the slid back to run through it’s cycle and it didn’t make a sound. “Not bad at all. If I didn’t see it myself I would’ve thought that someone else put this together.” “Since when has Archer ever handled a gun?” I asked, drawing the attention of the other two ponies in the armory. “And better yet what the hell is that?” Cosmo shrugged. “Gunfighter variant of the standard human Magnum. I’ve had one in my armory for a while and I thought it would be a good thing to teach Archer with.” Just thinking back to the many times that I had been in Cosmo’s armory, I don’t ever remember seeing a pistol quite like what he had in his hands. Every gun he owned was out in plain view, so I’m certain I would’ve seen this one before today. “When did you get this?” “What, about a year ago?” Cosmo said. “It was right after you came to check out Phalanx’s pet project.” Pet project… Right, Phalanx has finally managed to finish Storm Cloud’s training. “Is it good, or does it work as weird as it looks?” “It handles like a normal magnum, but it's just a whole lot lighter.” Archer added. Other than the fact that Archer already knows the differences between this modified pistol and it’s standard design, I found her statement rather innocuous. It was a simple comment that any soldier would make, but Archer was no soldier. Furthermore I don’t think that she’s ever picked up a gun before the last two days. But I had picked up magnums hundreds of times… Add that to the fact that she’s already mentioned the Mountaineer and that simple comment became far more concerning. “How are you feeling Archer?” “Fine… Why?” She asked. I offered a shrug. “Oh, no reason…” With a sudden flare of magic along my horn I blasted Archer with a bolt of pure energy, knocking her onto the ground and forcing her into unconsciousness Cosmo was on me right away and had me by the collar of my armor. “What was that for?!” He yelled. “There’s something going on here.” I said as I brushed Cosmo off. “I think Archer might still be processing what she got out of the memory orb.” “So you knocked her out?!” “Well I can’t get in her head while she’s conscious.” I retorted as I charged up another spell. As I cast it my surroundings changed. No longer was I standing in the armory, but in a smoke filled ‘chamber’. But I wasn’t alone. A few feet away was Archer, who was standing with the spitting image… Of, well, myself. “Get moving kiddo.” The mirror image of me said, right as Archer disappeared. “What the hell is this?” I asked. “What the hell are you?” “I’m you, assuming that you didn’t already figure that out.” The duplicate replied. “But how do you even exist? I didn’t create a personality construct to go with the memory orb.” I retorted. “I guess you could call me an afterthought.” Said the duplicate. “Without me, Archer would’ve gone crazy with the sudden exposure to all of the stuff you had in that orb. I’ve been controlling that so she has time to adjust to the changes.” “You still didn’t answer my question.” I pointed out. “Do you really want to know?” The duplicate asked, and the fog shifted to the spitting image of a cavern beneath Canterlot Castle that I was very familiar with. “What does the Nexus have to do with this?” “Look around Dusk. What do you see?” I couldn’t help but do exactly what the duplicate asked. As I looked around I noticed some rather important differences to the Nexus chamber that I was familiar with. The walls lined with crystal were broken and scorched, the pool of neon-green liquid that headed the chamber was entirely empty… And at the foot of that pool was a spot on the floor that was scorched blacker than anything I had ever seen, with a distinct area directly next to it that was far lighter. “Is that what I think it is?” “A nuclear shadow, left as you stood next to the exploding havoc that Kovac set off.” The duplicate explained. “Lucky for the city your shield spell contained most of the blast. Just a few broken windows and light fixtures.” “You mean I die in Canterlot?” “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it that…” The duplicate said. “But you certainly did something rather important.” “Like what?” I spat. “Like fulfilling the Broken Mirror paradox.” Broken Mirror paradox? That rings a bell or two… “You mean the thing that Amore has been researching? The thing she thought that I was going to carry out?” “Well you do carry it out, just not on purpose.” The duplicate said. “Obviously I can’t go into more detail than that, but she’s been right for a long time.” “I don’t know what to say…” I muttered. “It sounds like you’re telling me that I’m in for a world of hurt.” “Again, I don’t know if I’d call it that.” The duplicate replied. “But if I were you I’d go make some preparations.” Suddenly I was back in the armory, on my knee while Cosmo was trying to shake me. “Dusk, are you alright?” As I looked over at the unconscious form of Archer, I couldn’t help but realize that I wasn’t alright. In fact I’d say I’m far from alright. But I didn’t need to say anything as I got up and walked out of the armory… Well, at least not to Cosmo. *** Another Ten Minutes Later, Dusk’s Office “Dusk, what can I do for you?” That individual I had to say something to was an old friend/antagonist. “Serin… Sorry for calling on such short notice but I need something.” The Admiral nodded. “So what do you need? Equipment? Some new arms?” “Actually I need some personal favors.” I said. “I need you to prepare augmentation procedures for Archer, three sets of Mjoinir armor each optimized for one of the Equine subspecies… And then I need you to come here.” “Archer… You mean Cosmo’s daughter?” “Yup.” “Alright… Then why do you need me to come to Equis?” “Because I’m going to die, and I need you so I can dictate my will.” For a moment Osman seemed shocked. “You’re going to die?” “Kovac returned, and I’ve seen where I end up Serin. Which is why I need you to come here so I can dictate my will.” “But why me? We’ve got some rather mixed history.” “But you also know how to keep a secret.” I countered. “Which is why I want you here Serin. You’re the only person or pony I trust enough to go to with this. Please Serin… Help me out here.” Serin simply nodded. “I’ll be there in a few hours. Serin out.” Author's Note And there's another Interlude down, and we're onto the final arc in Broken Mirror! But in case some of you are wondering what the change is for, it comes down to what I was planning with Reflections. Because both Arcs were meant to wrap up the two parts of the story, the coming arc meant to end the wasteland adventure and the final arc was meant to wrap up what Kovac was doing in the present day, I felt that it would be a good idea to take that final arc and re-purpose it for the prologue of Reflections. It'll also make for a far better setup to the sequel. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Canterlot Ruins, Part I (Arc IV)Aboard E-201, somewhere over Equis Dusk “Alright, we’re ten minutes out from the Canterlot Ruins.” Porter called out from the helm. “Meteor, you ready on those comms?” “Ready!” Gramps called out. Above us on one of the large old screens appeared Kovac’s face, backed by rock cliffs. “Kovac, you’re on!” “Good, my infiltration team is coming up the cliffs on the far side of the ruins. We should be in position within half an hour. What’s the status on the armored column?” “They’re gotten to a point about a half mile outside of what was the city limits, but they can’t go any farther.” Gramps said. “The terrain is far too damaged, likely a byproduct of the last time the Enclave was in town, so they’ll provide fire support as we send infantry in.” “What about you Dusk?” Kovac asked. “Steeljack and I are ready to go.” I said. “What about the dragon? Have you heard anything from Spike?” “Actually we haven’t, so Comet and Strike are going to pay him a visit with the Rangers. If we’re lucky it’s just an issue with the comms.” I replied. “As for our other friends back in Chicacolt, Radiant is gathering her merry band of misfits. The Rangers will pick them up before they join us.” “Well then, we all know the plan. Good luck everyone, Kovac out.” Even though we had discussed the planned assault on the Canterlot Ruins in great detail, more and more I felt something was off whenever I spoke with Kovac. Almost like my gut was telling me that there was something that he wasn’t saying. “Something bugging you too Dusk?” Gramps asked from across the bridge. “So you and I both have the same bad gut feeling?” I wondered aloud as I walked off the bridge. “Now I’m even more scared!” The cargo bay was but a short stroll down the corridor, and I found Steeljack sorting through his equipment when I walked in. “Are we there yet?” Steeljack asked as he finished putting a belt-fed light machine gun together. “We’ll be there in ten minutes.” I said as I picked up my shotgun off the top of a container that was being used as a table. “Did Gramps bring you up to speed?” “He said you and I were going to go find and kill West Wind.” Steeljack replied as he attached a sling to his weapon. “Although I’ve got to admit, being tagged as a hitstallion is new.” “I know that it's not idea, but he’s the snake. Cut the head off and the rest dies.” I said as I slung the shotgun onto my back. “I under that Dusk. Hell, and I can live with the crazy shit I’ve seen. But I’ve never been told to go off someone on purpose.” Steeljack said. “Even if that pony has certainly earned it…” “Alright, you’ve got a point.” I admitted. “This is definitely outside of what we’d consider normal. Now is there something bothering you?” “Just the same rather broad ethical question I ask before every mission.” Steeljack replied. “Want to read me in on it then?” I asked. Steeljack nodded. “I always ask myself whether we’re doing the right thing or not… Well, I haven’t always wondered that. It all started after that visit to the plantation.” “Plantation… You’re talking about De Witt, aren’t you?” I asked as I turned around. Steeljack nodded again and turned to face me. “Granted that one worked out for the best, but it still got me to think about what I’ve been doing. Although I’ve been asking myself that question more and more over the last few years.” “Was it really that stressful?” “At times it was.” Steeljack said. “Las Pegasus, the mission to the Pioneer, Canterlot, the Badlands… Pretty much all of the big missions I got roped into were.” “Sounds like it was fun.” I offered. “Remember that it was Dart that was in charge the whole time.” Steeljack pointed out. “Believe me when I say she probably had it far worse than I did.” That point brought me back to my marefriend that we had left in Theater so she could properly be cared for. “Do you think she’ll be OK?” Steeljack could only shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen her hurt that badly before. At least she’s in good hands...” “I guess that’s a consolation prize.” I said. “And probably the best one you’re getting given the circumstances. So focus on the here and now. You can control what happens down there, not what’s happening with Dart back at Theater.” Said Steeljack. I nodded. “Another fair point, I guess.” “Dusk, we’re five minutes out.” Porter called out over the intercom. “Sounds like it’s game time.” Steeljack said as he clipped the magazine box onto his weapon. Schick-schick “Damn straight it is.” *** “Dusk, Steeljack. You’re good to go!” “Copy that!” I yelled as I hit the cargo bay’s door release. The hatch in the floor immediately slid open, letting the air course about the bay. “Steeljack, you ready?” “Do you even have to ask?” The stallion called out. “Well it never hurts to be sure!” I said as I stepped up to the edge of the hatch. “See you on the other side!” Judging by the look of shock I doubt that Steeljack expected me to simply drop out of the bottom of the picket especially when the ground was a good twenty feet away. I hit the broken rock and dirt rather quickly, having fallen like a rather dignified stone. But I made it down in one piece and that’s all that mattered. THUD! “Well that’s one way down...” Steeljack groaned as he rolled his right shoulder. Steeljack wasn’t wrong, that certainly was one way down from the picket. As E-201 pulled away, the drone of its turbines was replaced by the pops of distant rifle-fire. “Who the hell’s shooting?” I muttered. Steeljack turned and motioned with his weapon. “Sounds like it’s coming from farther down the mountain. Maybe some of the Enclave soldiers got the jump on Porter and the Marines.” “Well what about the armor?” I asked, looking down to the ridge that the tanks were reported to be parked on. “They were supposed to be providing fire support.” Steeljack didn’t wait to fish out his radio. “Meteor, this is Steeljack. Come in.” But as his radio didn’t even emit static, he instinctively tapped it against his weapon and hit the transmitter again. “Meteor, can you hear me?” But Steeljack’s radio still remained silent. “Could the Enclave be jamming us?” I asked. “If they were we’d be getting a whole lot more than nothing.” Steeljack countered. “And here’s another question… Porter’s Marines took over the armor so the Division’s infantry could advance under their cover. They’re not here either. Just what the hell is going on?” Logic would dictate that we should be in the middle of a massive firefight right now, but instead we’ve got an empty battlefield. “I don’t know, and I doubt it matters. We’ve still got a job to do.” It didn’t take much more to convince Steeljack that it was time to get moving. “So we have no working radio, no fire support and no backup. How are we going to make that work?” “Lets just take it one step at a time.” I replied. “First thing’s first, we need to assess the situation.” As we made our way past what was at one point a building’s foundation, only identifiable by the bricks laid out in the ground in a rectangular shape, filled with piles of broken masonry and other destroyed building materials. “So much for a city… Steeljack, what happened here?” “They called it Operation Cauterize.” Steeljack replied. “Back when the Enclave was at it’s peak they were launching massive assaults on populated areas. Canterlot was one, although it was filled with supercharged ghouls. It was their first target, and they managed to knock the whole city down in one pass.” “Sounds like they had some serious firepower at their disposal.” I observed as we came upon another filled-in foundation, this one with some bones scattered across the rubble pile. “Back then they did, but they’ve understandably taken a serious beating since then.” Said Steeljack. As I turned my attention forward I saw a wall that was still standing, easily a good three feet taller than myself. I waved from Steeljack to the right corner of the wall. “Stack up.” I whispered. I slid up alongside the wall and with a barely audible thud I could tell that Steeljack was right behind me. “Ready.” He whispered. I gave it a three-count before I whipped around the corner with my shotgun shouldered, but that didn’t prepare me for what was waiting for the two of us. While there was a fully-armored Enclave soldier standing on the other side of the wall, there was a Second Division soldier also standing there with him, and both were aiming their weapons at me. “Kill him!” The Division soldier yelled. I cursed under my breath as I smacked the Division soldier’s weapon away, while Steeljack went at the Enclave soldier. “Aren’t we on the same side?” I asked as I ducked a swing from my opponent. The Division soldier didn’t say anything as he shouldered his rifle again and took aim. “I guess not!” BANG! Schick-schick Before the Division soldier got to his trigger I let loose a twelve-gauge shell, catching my opponent square in the chest and sending him to the ground in a crumpled mess. Steeljack’s Enclave opponent joined the turncoat immediately, collapsing to help form a tangled mess of limbs. “Alright, that was too easy.” Steeljack observed. Steeljack did reach down, offering me a hand in getting to my feet. But I ignored the gesture, instead sliding over to the Division soldier’s dead body. Looking at his face I could see where one of the pieces of the shot slammed into his face mask, tearing right through it like a hot knife through butter. But there was something important missing. There was no blood. Even as I looked down towards the soldier’s chest I didn’t see any of the red bodily fluid. “Steeljack, do you see something missing here?” Steeljack took a moment to study the crumpled mess of limbs before he too came to the same realization that I had already reached. “Where’s the blood?” “Glad I’m not the only one who picked up on that.” I said as I started undoing the Division soldier’s mask. As the last clasp was undone the mask flapped away from the soldier’s face, and I quickly tossed it away. Immediately it became clear why there wasn’t any blood. “Steeljack… Does that look like metal to you?” “Hot damn…” Steeljack muttered. With the mask removed both of us could clearly make out the broken shape of a synth. “I thought so.” I said as I clambered to my feet. “Have you ever heard of a synth that disguises itself?” Steeljack shook his head. “Can’t say that I have, but this could explain a lot. The lack of support, the rifle fire we heard when we got here…” “Then we need to get the lead out.” I replied. “We need to find some sort of command post.” As we started walking deeper into the ruins I heard Steeljack cough. “What if they don’t have one up and running?” I took a moment to glance over at Steeljack “What are you getting at?” “What if this is all just one big trap? What then?” Now that’s an uncomfortable point… But that would mean that the Division was planning on stabbing us in the back from the get-go. That would mean that we were meant to find Specter in Manehattan, and that everything else we went for was a calculated maneuver against us. “I don’t want to think about it.” Steeljack took the opportunity to get in my way, and judging by the look on his face he wasn’t all that happy. “Are you serious?” “Yes, I am.” I said as I pushed past the imposing stallion. “Do you realize where that line of thinking is going?” “Yes, I do. We really need to think about how we got here… Even more so now that there’s a possibility that Division soldiers are actually synths.” Steeljack countered. “And you’re certainly right Steeljack.” I replied. “And I’ll gladly entertain that line of thinking once we deal with the task at hand.” Suddenly Steeljack grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back a step. “What was that for?” “Take a look.” Steeljack said as he pointed at a large gaping hole that I nearly fell into. “Huh… Would you look at that?” I muttered. “Now doesn’t that look familiar to you?” Steeljack asked. It took a moment, but as I looked at the surrounding ground I realized that we weren’t standing on dirt any more, but a cracked marble slab. “This must have been where the castle stood.” “Which would make that wall part of the castle too.” Steeljack added as he looked around. “Want to make a guess where that leads?” “The Nexus…” I slowly said as the realization dawned on me. “This would’ve been the passage down to it.” “And it’s probably where West Wind is hiding.” Steeljack added. After a few more moments to myself I finally decided on a course of action. “Steeljack, you stay up here. I’ll go down and see what’s there.” As I started slowly walking down the broken stairs Steeljack grabbed my arm again. “Be careful Dusk.” He said before letting me go. I didn’t say anything to my old friend. I simply nodded before starting down into the dark passage. Author's Note And there we go, the start to the final story arc of Broken Mirror! WOO!!! I can actually see the light of day again! Now I'll be honest, I don't know how long this final arc will end up. But It'll at bare minimum tie off the Broken Mirror story so I can move onto Reflections. Oh, and by the way, it's at eleven chapters as of today... Dear god, this is what happens when I get an idea. Regardless, keep an eye on the blog posts for more on Reflections and more multiverse shenanigans! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Canterlot Ruins, Part II (Arc IV)Somewhere Under the Ruins of Canterlot Dark. Cold. Stale. Those three words easily described the old passage way that I was trudging through under the ground that was once Canterlot. Otherwise this old passage was identical to it’s counterpart in my own universe. That similarity nagged at the back of my mind. What if there was a Nexus in the cavern at the bottom of the passage? Even if West Wind isn’t down here such power can’t simply be left alone, at least not in this world. But that logically assumes that a Nexus even exists in this universe. Obviously the cavern must exist, as the way down is identical, but will that confluence of the universe exist here as well? You know what? I should stop with the ‘what if’ questions. They aren’t helping me focus on the task at hand. As my boots hit the bottom of the long staircase I finally noticed that the Nexus chamber was lit up with some portable construction lights. “Looks like someone’s home…” I muttered as I quickly checked my shotgun. As I stepped into the chamber proper I realized that someone was, in fact, home. There was only one pony in the cavern, standing with his back and wings to me. “Why Dusk, thank you for coming.” West Wind said as he turned to face me. As our eyes locked I noticed the first major problem; West Wind’s eyes were glowing a blood red. “What’s with the fancy light trick?” “It’s no trick Commander.” West Wind replied, a certain electronic quality evident in his voice. “It’s simply a sign of my superiority over you.” “You make it sound like you’re a god.” I retorted. “Like I said, I'm simply superior!” West Wind spat as he spread his stance out. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Gee, where have I heard that before?” As West Wind lunged forward I ducked past the first punch that he threw. “If memory serves, I said something similar to you when you were on the operating table a few years ago.” “Really? I don’t recall.” I retorted as I threw my own punch, one that West Wind deftly avoided. “And how would you?” West Wind countered as he failed another attempt at landing a blow. “You were under anesthesia and looked like a fillet!” “Ah, those were the days!” I chided as I stepped back out of range of another of West Wind’s swings. “If my memory is correct, I did a good job pissing you off when I was awake!” But at that point my luck ran out, and I felt West Wind’s fist slam into the center of my gut. As I fell to my knees West Wind grabbed my hair and yanked back on my head, pointing my muzzle up to face his glowing red eyes. “Oh you did… And now you’ll pay the price.” “No he won’t!” As soon as Steeljack’s voice rang out West Wind turned to face the out-of-sight stallion, only for something to slam into the side of his head that managed to stagger the pegasus. I finally caught sight of the grey stallion as he hauled me up to my feet. “I thought you were covering our way out?” I asked as I brushed some dust off my gear. \ “Ya…” Steeljack muttered as he glanced away from me. “About that…” Almost as if it was a reflex I rolled my eyes. “Alright, just how screwed are we?” “I don’t think it’s so much that we’re screwed, but that there probably isn’t enough ammo on this mountain for the two of us to shoot our way out.” Steeljack countered. Sadly I didn’t get a chance to retort as West Wind grabbed the back of my armor and tossed me to the ground. “Just because you have the numbers doesn’t mean that you still have the advantage!” The pegasus shouted. As I scrambled back to my feet I saw Steeljack grapple onto West Wind’s back and try to wrench him to the ground. “You sure about that?” Steeljack asked as he struggled with the well-built pegasus. I finally managed to get in close enough and landed a glancing blow across the metal platework that encompassed half of West Wind’s head. “I don’t think he is. Odds are that part of ole’ Westy’s head is missing!” When I went to land my second hit West Wind managed to break free of Steeljack’s grasp, lunged out of the way before smashing us together head-first. As the two of us were caught in the moment he drove his clenched fists down onto both of us, and the last thing I remember seeing before passing out was Steeljack’s jaw smacking into the stone floor of the cavern. *** An Undetermined Amount of Time Later… “Ugh…” I heard Steeljack groan as consciousness finally returned to me after some time apart. “Anyone catch that license plate?” After a few more moments I finally realize that I was bound by the wrists to a metal pole behind me. I opened my eyes and saw West Wind standing in front of me, his back turned as he studied the large empty pool that was once the beating heart of this chamber. “Nope, I got a feeling that we’ve got a hit and run on our hands.” I replied. “If only you were that lucky” West Wind said as he turned around to face the two of us. “Sadly Dusk, I have to inform you that your luck has just run out.” “And why’s that? Because you decided to open a strip club down here?” I said as I wiggled against the pole that I was tied to. “Really Westy, it’s all about the location and amenities. And believe me, one really scarred stallion in a dank cave in the middle of nowhere is not enough to support whatever your business model is.” Off to the side I heard Steeljack chuckle, but West Wind’s expression didn’t change. “Well I’m sorry Dusk, but you’re inflated sense of self-worth isn’t doing you any favors.” “From the sounds of it you’re rather annoyed by my self-worth.” “And he isn’t the only one.” Came a voice from behind us. After a few seconds I could see that pony out of the corner of my eye. The first thing I noticed was the bone white fur over a black set of what looked like combat armor. “Oh no…” I muttered. “What, what is it?” Steeljack asked. “It’s Dusk realizing that he probably should’ve trusted his instincts.” By now the other pony in the room had decided to stroll into view and stood with West Wind, starring both myself and Steeljack down. “Kovac…” I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. “I’m really hoping that you’ve got a good explanation for this.” Kovac simply shrugged as a wry smirk crossed his face. “Well I do Dusk. This is about power. The power to create, the power to destroy… And how you have always kept me away from that.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “I’m older than I look Commander.” Kovac countered. “In fact, it’s in this very chamber that a version of you denied me my last chance at unbridled power… Goddess, it’s hard to believe that it’s really been almost two hundred years already.” “Two hundred years? How the hell are you that old?” Steeljack exclaimed. Kovac shrugged, maintaining that same smug smirk he had been wearing since we first laid our eyes on him. “Well a complete blood transfusion from an individual who is a quarter alicorn tends to have its benefits.” “Quarter alicorn?” “You didn’t know?” Kovac said, feigning shock and surprise. “Why Steeljack, our mutual friend here is the grandson of Celestia herself!” Once I heard that from Kovac, I could swear that I could hear a pin drop with how quiet the cavern became. “What?” Steeljack exclaimed. “He’s not wrong.” I said, shaking my head. “I just found out a few weeks ago… But that means that Kovac would’ve had to have figured that out about this reality’s version of me.” “You did raise me.” Kovac retorted. “Well… Your counterpart did, and he was rather honest about his heritage." "That still doesn't tell me why you're so pissed at me." "I was orphaned after the bombs fell. My father, Spark, was aboard the airship E-201 when it went missing in the Northern Wastes. And you hid that from me until you were on death’s door in this very cavern. Do you know what that did to me Dusk?” “I can take a wild guess, considering I’ve been in a similar boat.” I said, still struggling against my binds. “But Spark was an earth pony. Where’d you get the horn?” For a few seconds Kovac’s horn sparked, before changing color. It went from the same white as his fur to the deep shade of purple that made up a clear night sky. “Why, I took it from you!” “Goddess… You’re insane!” I heard Steeljack yell. But Kovac obviously disagreed if his physical response was any indicator. “I’d say I’m more of a visionary Steeljack. Why, I another source of power sitting right next to you… And I’m also sure that I’ll find a use for your enhanced genetics as part of my Synth program.” “Well that assumes that you even get the chance!” I immediately recognized the voice, but couldn’t see where it had come from. “Dart?” “The one and only.” My marefriend’s seemingly disembodied voice replied. “Hate to break it to you Kovac, but I’m going to be taking my friends out of here.” “Well even if you could, you’d still have to get past the army of my Synths up on the surface.” Kovac retorted. As soon as he said that a green mare flashed into place behind both Kovac and West Wind. “Already did!” Dart yelled as she bashed West Wind with the butt of her rifle, while turning and ducking under a sudden wide swing from Kovac. While my marefriend took to the proverbial dancefloor with Kovac and his Pegasus lackey, I felt something cut the bindings that had been holding me to the pole. “Hope we’re not too late.” Jericho muttered. “You’re just in time.” I said as I rubbed at my wrists, which were feeling decidedly sore after struggling against the ropes that they had been tied up with. “Now have you seen-” Instead of finishing my sentence I grabbed the shotgun that was unceremoniously stuffed in my face. “Just shut it!” Jericho sharply replied. “Dart, it’s time to go!” “Got it!” The mare yelled as she swept around Kovac’s back before kicking him straight into the empty Nexus pit. It’s as we ran out of the cavern and up the stone staircase that I noticed something different about Dart. I only caught it for a brief second, but her mane color was off. After a minute of plodding up the stairs I could see what it was. Gone was the short grey mane that she had topping her head for years, replaced with a long green and white style. “What the hell happened to your hair?” I said as we finally set foot above ground. “It got burnt off last I checked.” Dart retorted as she turned to face me. “This was the best that Star could pull off on short notice.” “Well… It looks good!” I exclaimed, forgetting where we were for a brief moment so I could attempt to appreciate the change. But I came back to reality as a large shadow cast itself over the ruins of Canterlot Castle. “Oh fuck…” I heard Steeljack whisper. As I turned I could see why he suddenly was starting to panic. “Spike! Glad you could make it! I take it that you got Strike’s message?” The dragon nodded as he settled on the ground. “Sorry it took me so long. I got tied up with an unexpected guest.” “Worry about it later!” I yelled as a series of bullets crashed into the ground by my feet. “Spike, we need to go!” “Are you serious? You want me to fly off with a dragon?!” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Obviously Steeljack’s underlying terror of dragons might prove to be a bit of a problem… “Don’t worry, I’ve got him covered.” Dart said as she walked up to the distracted grey stallion. As Dart reeled back with her submachine gun, Steeljack suddenly seemed to realize what she was planning. “Dart, wai-” CRACK! “Was that necessary?” I asked as my marefriend hoisted Steeljack’s limp body over her shoulder. “Do you want him to be kicking and screaming the whole way back to the command post?” Dart retorted as we were scooped up by our dragon rescuer. Once we were in the air and I could see the small horde of Division and Enclave soldiers that were rushing towards where we had been standing. “No… Can’t say I’d be for it.” *** Two miles outside of the Canterlot Ruins Twenty Minutes Later Seven. That number is how many Division soldiers are still on our side… At least that are alive. Right after we spoke to Kovac on the picket, before Steeljack and I were dropped in the ruins the situation went south HARD. About half of the five hundred Division soldiers mixed in with the Marines turned and started firing on them. In response the Marines did the only sensible thing and started shooting, targeting any pony in Division armor in sight. Of those out on the field that were caught in the shootout, medics confirmed that approximately four hundred of the Division soldiers were really Synths. The rest… The rest of them probably didn’t know what was happening. The only survivors, Jericho, Specter, a mare named Juno and a few others, only survived because they weren’t on the field. That isn’t to say there wasn’t a fair bit of tension as a result of the sudden betrayal, but Gramps kept everyone from going at each other's throats until the medics confirmed that the few Division agents left were in fact pony. “So let me get this straight-” Gramps said, pulling me back to the present. “-Kovac is really an earth pony that went and pulled a frankenstein, is well over two hundred years old, is working with West Wind and is apparently responsible for creating an army of synths in secret?” “That about sums it up.” Spike said, his towering stature taking up a sizable amount of the open space in the tent that Gramps had set up for his command post. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get this information to you sooner, like I said to Dusk I had an unexpected guest.” “It’s fine son, we’ll learn to cope.” Gramps said with a sigh. “So let's run down our situation. We’ve got an army of Enclave at the summit of the mountain, and our rear guard was entirely composed of Synths. In short, we’re surrounded.” “We still have the picket, the armor and the Desert Rangers are on their way from Chicacolt. We could try and make a breakout through the rear once they get here.” Dart suggested. “We could… But I’m still not clear on how you got your hair and face back.” I countered, finally adding something to the conversation. “Dusk, that’s not important right now.” “What? I can’t help but be curious…” “Then put the curiosity aside for now.” Gramps retorted. “I need your head in the game Dusk, otherwise I don’t see how we’ll come up with a workable plan.” Before we could get into the details of what such a plan would look like, an armored pony stepped into the command tent. The armor was incredibly old, and looked like a beat up set of royal guard armor that has long since lost its golden luster. “I’m not too late, am I Spike?” The stallion asked, his voice sounding coarse and aged under his helmet. “No, you’re just in time Commander.” The dragon replied. As the armored pony nodded the gears in my head started turning. “Commander?” I muttered to myself. “Well it’s good to see you all again… Suffice to say it’s been a long time since I've last seen some of you.” The mystery pony said as he started undoing the clasps holding his helmet in place. “You’re kidding me…” I said as I turned my attention to the stallion. As his helmet came off I could make out the night sky coloration of his fur, the snow white hair and a distinct area of pink scar tissue where a horn had once been. “I’m not kidding you Commander.” My older doppelganger said as he curled his helmet up under his arm. “Now then, I believe that we have some business to attend to.” Author's Note Now how about that? Kovac's the closest thing to an ancient evil that we've got, Dusk's alicorn genetics finally get reintroduced as a plot point, and apparently his Wasteland Doppleganger is still running around after Kovac claims to have killed him... Just another day at the office, right? Anyway, the next chapter of E-201 will set the stage for Commander Dusk raising Kovac at Spark's request. In the mean time, break the popcorn out, because the end of Broken Mirror is slowly approaching... In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Master and Commander (Arc IV)A Few Miles South of the Canterlot Ruins… “Well this is awkward.” I observed as I studied my doppleganger, all while starting to feel slightly dizzy. Commander Dusk nodded. “You could say that again. It’s not every day I run into a double of myself… Especially one that clearly isn’t feeling too good.” “What do mean?” Gramps asked from his side of the tent. The Commander simply pointed at my feet. “He’s struggling to stand up straight.” “Shit, he’s right.” Gramps said as he took a place next to me, giving me a good and sturdy backing to lean against. “Dusk, are you feeling OK?” “Other than a bit dizzy? I’m alright.” “No… No you’re not.” The Commander said as he started waving his now-glowing hand over me. “Something is draining your magic. It’s not fast enough to prevent you from replenishing your reserves, but it’s constant… When is the first time you felt like this?” I thought about it for a moment before I finally realized where this little problem started. “Probably about a week ago when we went up north. I ended up passing out after a fight, and once I woke back up I was starving.” “Then what the hell… Wait, you’ve got some sort of implant in your chest attached to the back of one of your ribs. I’m seeing some serious concentrations of energy around it.” “That must’ve been put in when I got the augmentations…” I muttered “And I was on ice for so long no one probably noticed what it was doing.” “Back up a minute, what augmentations?” The Commander questioned, looking more confused than anything.” “Oh, the usual when you get prodded at by aliens. Unbreakable bones, vastly improved reflexes, and the unfortunate inability to get drunk.” I retorted. “Right…” The Commander droned. “Anyway, let me fix this real quick.” “Wait, what are you-” BZZT! On reflex I shuddered. It felt like hundreds of pinpricks of static stabbed into me in various parts of my body. As the tingling feeling subsided I certainly felt far more awake and focus, but one other thing just happened to come to mind and needed to be said. “Ow!” “Quit acting like a foal.” The Commander chided as he stepped back. “That magic transfusion should keep you going for at least the next couple days, assuming that you don’t actually use any magic.” “Well thanks…” I muttered in return. “But does anyone have an idea on how we’ll get through the next hour alive? I Dart just suggested a break-” “There’s no need for a breakout when we’re not encircled.” The Commander said, cutting me off rather promptly. “What he turned on the rear-guard was an elaborate illusion spell.” “Illusion spell… Wait a minute, where exactly did he learn it?” Gramps questioned, suddenly perking up at the Commander’s explanation. “From your notebooks.” The Commander retorted. “Um… Can someone elaborate?” Strike asked from his seat on the far side of the tent. “I certainly can.” Gramps replied. “My first assignment in the Guard came when the Minotaur Kingdom launched a surprise invasion of the northeast part of Equestria. I used that spell to make it appear that our battalion was in fact a full brigade. While the illusion made it look like our front lines were intact, the rest of my battalion launched a flanking action. We wouldn’t have been able to successfully drive them back into their territory if I hadn’t done it.” “Then what’s Kovac trying to do?” Comet asked, finally injecting himself into the conversation. “You obviously know quite a lot about him…” “Well let’s see… What do we have pointed right at his forces?” We were all silent for a moment before what the Commander was trying to say hit me. “He wants our armor out of the way.” The Commander responded with a smile and a snap of his finger. “Exactly! When the armor is out of the way he’ll be free to sweep in and tear us apart.” “So the only two things we have going for us is an airship and a bunched up group of armor…” Slowly but surely a smile developed on Gramp’s face. “Gentlecolts, I believe I have a plan.” *** Twenty Minutes Later… As both the picket and the newly-arrived Raptor hovered over the outskirts of what was Canterlot, I began to think. Kovac has to know by now that we aren’t going to turn our backs and expose ourselves… Which means that he’ll do the most logical thing and dig in to whatever is left of the old capital. Granted all that’s left are some chunks of wall and massive mounds of rubble that act as sizable barricades. They’re also excellent shields to hide behind, and I’ll be that Kovac’s forces are mustered behind the mound waiting for us. “You all ready?” The Commander called out from his perch on the back of the lead Valentine. From my spot on the ground next to the tank, I checked my shotgun one last time. The tube was still full. “Ready as we’ll ever be!” “Alright, move it up!” The Commander shouted as he banged the top of the turret with a clenched fist. The tanks shuddered and in what looked like a well choreographed scene the ten tanks that had come with us to Canterlot started trundling forward. We only brought the Valentines because of their small size compared to the Mark VI that we had been galavanting around with after leaving Manehattan. While they were cramped, they were half the length and carried the same gun. It was as they slowly trundled over the rubble that I could see the length come in handy. The Mark VI would have easily gotten stuck because of it’s obscene length, while the Valentines simply crawled up and over the obstacles. “Dusk?” Steeljack asked as he came up to join me. “Does something feel off to you?” “We’re marching into a firefight with two airships hanging over our heads and enough armor to blast most fortresses to rubble. Of course something feels off!” Knowing Steeljack he was probably rolling his eyes. “What about other than the obvious?” As we came up on the crest of one of the larger mounds of crushed debris I looked around. Other than Porter’s marines and the small legion of tanks, there was nothing. No sounds of rifle fire, no soldiers screaming for medics. I stopped and turned around, looking back down Canterlot Mountain from where we had come. “Son of a bitch…” I muttered. “What is it?” Steeljack asked. “What the hell? Where is everyone?” I heard the Commander hollar from his mechanized perch. Suddenly it hit me. “It’s a trap!” I screamed. At that moment all hell started to break loose. One of the tanks on the far side of the formation exploded in a fireball, it’s turret toppling blown off into a roll down the mountain. And the shadows above us changed, disappearing briefly in pinpricks of orange as another Raptor appeared out of thin air above us. All while that was going on rifle reports started echoing out behind us, and the head of one of the marines next to me exploded in a chunky red mist. TAKE COVER! Enclave stormtroopers hit the ground on the far side of the rise, while down the mountain I could now see the red flashes of laser rifles, likely carried by synths that were slamming into the rear of our formation. “We’ve gotta get out of here!” Steeljack shouted over the pops of his rifle. Suddenly one of the stormtroopers got the bright idea to target me. As he slammed into the ground next to me I ducked down to my knees in an instant, just in time for a slashing knife to cut through the air where my face was only seconds prior. “Well would you like to find us a way out of here?” I chided as I planted my boot into the trooper’s groin and sent him tumbling down to the bottom of the mound. “I wish I could!” Steeljack retorted as he knocked down his own opponent. As the two of us ended up back to back, the Commander hit the ground behind us with a thud. “Well gents, it appears that we’ve got company.” “Of course we’ve got-” As I turned around I saw what the Commander was actually talking about. West Wind and his partner in crime Kovac had finally reappeared. “Well then… Round two anyone?” While Steeljack’s knuckles cracked the Commander offered a curt nod. “Kovac is mine.” In the blink of an eye he dashed forward towards the franken-unicorn, faster than I would think possible of most ponies of his apparent age. That left both Steeljack and myself to contend with West Wind and hopefully chalk one up for us on the scoreboard. “So what’s our plan?” I offered a shrug at Steeljack’s question. “I say we wing it…” As if on cue the two of us charged our pegasi opponent. My fist sailed over West Wind’s head as he ducked down, but Steeljack caught him with a knee to his jaw. West Wind didn’t let the hit go unpunished as he grabbed Steeljack’s leg and pulled him to the ground. “Is that the best you can do?!” He yelled as he slammed the sole of his boot down into Steeljack’s chest. With my opponent distracted I took to opportunity to clamber onto West Wind’s back and wrench him away from Steeljack. “Oh I can do a hell of a lot better!” As the pegasi thrashed under me I felt my shotgun get knocked off my back as I wrapped an arm around his throat. “And just what is this supposed to do, you worthless worm?!” “Well Westy-” CRRRAACK! With his head now cocked at an odd angle, I felt West Wind suddenly go limp and slid down against my chest. I did the smart thing and let him go, allowing his twitching body to land face up at my feet. As I stared down at the pegasi I saw his eyes darting around seemingly at random, probably in a panic as the life drained away from his mind. “It’s supposed to do that.” I whispered as I prodded the dying body with my boot. The sounds of war suddenly faded, and I wasn’t standing in the midst of the hell that was the Wasteland anymore. I was standing in a dark lab, where in the center was an operating table. A younger Dusk was strapped to it as West Wind stood over him. “Well now, what do we have here…” The pegasi muttered. “Piss off West!” The younger ‘me’ yelled. West Wind simply rolled his eyes. “You really don’t know how much trouble you’re in, do you?” As a masked surgeon entered the room I could see my younger self shaking his head. “All I know is that no matter what, I am going to-” “Dusk, take cover!” I heard Steeljack shout as I was jarred back to the present. As I whirled around I was faced with an immediate explosion that sent me tumbling down the rubble pile. “Damn it…” I groaned as I felt a distinct throbbing in my left shoulder. Off to my left was a chunk of armor plate from the turret of the tank I had been standing near. Likely it had something to do with the sudden onset of pain. Getting up on my knees, I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye. As if a part of me was suddenly ripped out of my chest, I turned my attention just in time to watch Kovac spear Commander Dusk with a long officer’s sword. The Commander immediately collapsed, with Kovac hovering over him. Off to my right was the only option that I could tap at this point; my shotgun. It’s buttstock had been sheared off, likely by the impact of debris from the exploding tank, but other than that it was still a viable solution. I grabbed it and found that I was having trouble steadying myself, likely because I was still dazed after getting smacked by a chunk of armor plate. As I wavered I realized that I couldn’t use my left arm. It simply wouldn’t move. “Fuck it…” “Dusk, what are you doing?!” Steeljack shouted from his spot up on the rubble pile. That got Kovac’s attention, and from his distance I saw the flash of a pistol, followed by a dim scream from Steeljack as the lead round struck home. But by this point I was pushing everything else out. All that mattered was my weapon and Kovac… BANG! And the round struck home, hitting Kovac clear in the side of his face. As he fell I realized that he was standing on the edge of the cliff that marked the edge of the solid parts of Canterlot’s foundation. I didn’t even process the scream of pain that faded away into oblivion as the stallion fell out of sight. I felt someone tap my shoulder, but I ignored as I scrambled forward, not even actually managing to stand as I made my way over to the old stallion that Kovac had knocked down. By the time I was at his side the sounds of war were clear once again, although not as heavy as they had been previously. “Damn…” The Commander groaned. “He got me good, didn’t he?” He said as he clutched at the dark red hole that was punched through his dull chestplate. “You could say that…” I said as I examined the wound. For a moment, I turned my attention back towards where I had last seen friendly soldiers. “MEDIC!” But my attention was once more retaken by my doppleganger as he grabbed my collar and formed me down towards him. “There’s nothing you can do.” He sputtered, flecks of his blood landing on my face. “Oh come on! So I’m just supposed to let myself die?” I exclaimed. “You’re your own stallion, Commander.” My doppleganger replied, now slightly wheezing. “I’ve lived a long and painful life… And it’s about time that my story ends.” “But-” “No, no but. You’re young, and you’ve got a long road ahead of you. However today ends, you keep going. You understand?” The Commander managed to sputter out. I couldn’t help but nod, knowing where this was going. “I understand.” I whispered. The old stallion smiled, and seemed to relax at that. “Good…” “Commander?” I asked. “Long… Live… Equestria…” And with that, two centuries of pain and experience left us. It wasn’t dignified, or even clean. But it was probably the best ending that my double could have hoped for given the hell he had lived through. Before I got to my feet I took care to slide his eyelids shut, a final gesture of respect to the departed stallion. “Dusk, Steeljack. Where the hell are you two?” Gramps called over the radio. “West edge of the ruins.” Steeljack said into his radio as he joined me. “Why, what’s going on?” “You need to get out of there, that’s what!” Gramps yelled. “That Raptor is coming down, and it’s going to take you two with it if you don’t move!” Looking up I realized that Gramps was spot on. Now with a gaping hole in it’s side, the Raptor that West Wind’s forces had brought with them was slowly picking up speed as it descended towards us. “Steeljack, you have any ideas?” “Just run!” He yelled as the two of us began backtracking through the battlefield. But as the two of us clambered over rubble and blown out hulks of machinery, the raptor above us began accelerating downward. “We’re not gonna make it!” “We’ll make it!” “We’re not gonna-” POP! “-make it?” The sudden flash of light faded, and instead of being surrounded by death and destruction, Steeljack and I were surrounded by ponies sitting at consoles as the floor under our feet banked to the left. “Helm, get us clear!” Turning around I saw Porter standing behind Gramps, seated firmly in the captain’s chair that centered E-201’s bridge. “Talk about good timing.” He observed. Outside were the sounds of crashing metal and rapturous explosions. But listening to Gramps, and putting together the fact that Steeljack and I were now standing on the bridge of the picket, I couldn’t help but feel confused. “Uh… So then who saved our asses?” Author's Note Well what do we have here, another chapter? Yes, as a matter of fact it is another chapter! Nifty, right? So Commander Dusk is dead, as anyone who saw the preview knows... If you only just found out and are going "Striker, what the hell man? He didn't even stick around for two full chapters!" Just know that the bad guys don't stay dead... Take that as you will. In the mean time I'm on to the final chapter! WOO! It's almost over!!! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Out of the Fire (Arc IV)Ten Hours Post-Canterlot Battle Neighfair It’s finally over… West Wind is dead. Kovac is dead. The war is effectively over and we can all work on finding a way home. But while those of us that survived through the failed trap at the Canterlot Ruins are celebrating, burying our dead and securing all of the equipment that was left behind here at Neighfair, I’ve been sitting in the now-empty control room on my own for hours. Darkness had long since fallen, leaving orange-tinged lights partially illuminating the control room from their place on the outer walls of the fortress. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” “Steeljack…” I muttered, keeping my focus on the central courtyard of the fortress where festivities were continuing well into the night. “Alright, something’s up.” He said as he leaned against the table next to me. “We won and you’re up here moping like an abandoned puppy.” “Did we really win?” Looking over at Steeljack I could tell that he was confused. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” “Ya, kinda.” “Alright, well look at it like this. We thought we killed De Witt, that Griffon we took on a few years ago. Yet while I thought that my parents and Gramps were dead they were off tangling with him. We thought that West Wind was killed a few weeks ago, yet he shows up with a giant space gun and tries to destroy Vanhoover. Right now we’re two for two on bad guys coming back from the great beyond Steeljack, so I really don’t feel too good about our odds. That, and we still don’t know who teleported us out of Canterlot before that Raptor crushed the two of us…” “Fair enough.” Steeljack admitted. “And you still need a way home…” I thought about what Steeljack just said for a moment, and it hit me like a sack of bricks. “You’re staying behind?” Steeljack nodded. “That’s what I’m planning to do. I have an opportunity to be with my family, and I’d be stupid to pass it up.” “I can respect that.” I said as I started turning over my shotgun in my hands. “It won’t be the same without you, you know that? You were family to me when I thought I didn’t have one, and you stood with me when death was knocking at our door… I’ll miss you.” “Well at least I know I did something right…” Steeljack admitted. “So what are you going to tell Don about his shotgun?” I swung the weapon off my back and looked at the sheared off stock long and hard. “I honestly don’t… What the hell?” My eyes finally fell on the ejector port of the weapon, with a translucent white casing jammed in it. Steeljack saw what I was looking at and deftly plucked the obstruction out of the weapon. “This is a shell from a bean bag round…” “Well who loaded them?” I spat. “I got those things in Manehattan because they were cheap, but I only grabbed a tube’s worth.” Steeljack handed me the shell and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? We haven’t seen a body left over from Kovac…” “He’s gotta be out there somewhere.” I said, getting up and walking over to the window. “Damnit… Steeljack, we’re not ready for another fight. Not by a long shot.” “So what do you suggest?” “When we find a portal home, you need to destroy it behind us. That’ll buy us some time to get ready for Kovac.” “And just what are we supposed to do? Just sit around and hope he doesn’t come after the lot of us here?” Steeljack questioned. “I mean come on, we’re talking about a stallion who can make an army of robotic pony duplicates and we still don’t know how he made them or where they were really hiding.” “Damn Steeljack, I just don’t have any answers… But maybe that’s a good thing.” Looking at Steeljack I could tell that he was confused. “You mind bringing me up to speed on the how?” “Well lets assume that Kovac nabs one of us and somehow figures out what sort of preparations we’ve made for his return-” “Assuming he thinks along those lines.” “Right. But if I don’t know you’re plan, and you don’t know mine, then neither of us can rat out the other.” I explained, feeling slightly more at ease given the rather concerning trend that stands to be followed. “Only you could find a silver lining in a shitty situation…” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well one of us needs to be positive.” Suddenly Steeljack’s radio crackled to life. “Steeljack, where are you?” “Command center, why? What’s up?” “Well find Dusk and get down to the armory. We’ve found something.” *** “Son of a bitch…” That’s all I could bring myself to say as Steeljack and I strolled into the now emptied armory. No more artillery pieces or vehicles, the lot of them having been rolled out into the courtyard… But there was a giant section of wall that was missing that revealed a large and familiar shape. “That looks just like the mirror we found in the Badlands.” “And it gets better.” Comet said as he led the two of us over to a control station. “Everything is unlocked. We’ve got full access to the system.” The three of us were silent for a few moments. We had unknowingly been using Neighfair as our temporary home, and it came with a direct route away from this hellhole of a destination. “Well I guess this explains the synth now, doesn’t it?” Steeljack pointed out. Thinking back to that robotic monstrosity that we’d run into when we arrived, I’d have to admit that Steeljack was right on target. West Wind, and by extension Kovac, were probably using this fort as an embarkment point before we arrived. When we made contact they obviously thought that it would be a good idea to cover up their prior presence within these old stone walls. “Just how’d they hide this thing?” I asked. “An incredibly powerful illusion, likely of Kovac’s design.” Comet replied. “With him not around anymore to maintain it, it probably just ran out of juice.” I bit my tongue and nodded. “So can you power it up?” Comet nodded. “It’s already running through it’s boot-up cycle. We should be ready to go in another minute or so.” “Well I guess this is it then…” Steeljack muttered. “Gents, it’s been an honor.” “Likewise Steeljack… I take it you still remember our plan though?” The grey stallion nodded. “There should be enough ordinance left over to blow this popsicle stand, assuming of course you guys leave something for the rest of us.” “Right on… Porter! Front and center!” I yelled. On cue the yellow marine came running into the armory. “Yes sir?” “Tell your men we’re pulling out. Leave a few crates of high explosive artillery shells but take everything else. If it isn’t bolted down it’s coming with us.” “Uh… Where are we going?” I just pointed at the quantum mirror, now starting to light up as it finished it’s sequence and rolled my eyes. “Do I REALLY need to explain?” Porter just looked at me, over at the mirror, then back to me before saluting and running out into the courtyard to rally his men. “Damn… I guess something good did come out of this whole trip after all.” “And just what was that?” I just smirked and offered a slight shrug. “A lackey who doesn’t talk back.” As the mirror finally powered on, it’s silver glow lit up the armory like a high-output LED. “Alright, I’ll go through and let them know that we’re coming. Steeljack, wait five minutes and then send the first group through.” “I’m all over it.” Steeljack replied as I marched away. Standing at the foot of the mirror, I could almost make out the translucent image of the empty chamber on the other side. Come to think of it this is the first time I’ve really studied these portals in detail… I know how to use them, how to fix them and, most importantly, how to break them. But I’ve never taken in the details. Oh well, there’s a time and a place for everything. I stepped through and while the glow of the portal remained, above me was a massive hole, revealing the early morning Equestrian sky. “Well that’s something…” I muttered. Someone had also built a rather sturdy ramp up to the surface, likely our ponies who wanted to cart out anything of value that was down here. “Alpha One, this is Sierra-104. Do you copy?” I unclipped my radio and started walking up the ramp. “Alpha One here Spartan, mission successful. West Wind and his forces have been eliminated. We’re coming back with significant amounts of material and personnel, and we’ll need airlift support.” “I’ll see what I can arrange… But we’ve got other problems. You and General Meteor Shower are needed back in Canterlot.” Down below Porter’s soldiers were already starting to file through. “Hey, one of you go back through and tell the General to get up here! On the double!” Turning back to my radio I continued walking out into the open courtyard of the destroyed Enclave fortress. “He’s on his way Spartan, just tell me where you plan to pick us up.” *** Canterlot Castle Two Hours Later… “Welcome back General.” “Thank you son.” “Sir!” “Good to be home, son.” This new and annoying trait of the Guards dropping what they were doing to address Gramps was already annoying after the first two out in the garden. But we’ve since gone past ten more of these poor sods and they just won’t shut the hell up. It’s fricking annoying! But as our Spartan escort, a gent named Fred, led us into the Castle’s command center the greetings stopped. Officers were surrounding a large holotable, lit up blue with a map of some island. But they were actually ignoring the three of us. “Well this is nice…” I muttered. “Alright, who does that naggy wife of mine want me to fight now?!” Gramps yelled, drawing the attention and confused looks of all the officers present in the war room. And I was among those with confused looks. “Uh… What?” “Well don’t you know you’re ancient Equestrian history? Anyone who-” “Meteor!” As the old Stallion was interrupted by the sudden arrival of the solar princess herself, he stopped his verbose line of thought on a dime, only to obviously pick up on another one that was just as confusing and annoying. “Honey, I’m home!” Celestia of course ignored Gramp’s sudden shift to the annoying, walked over, grabbed his ear and dragged him over to the holotable with Fred and I in tow. “Do you recognize this island?” Gramps shook Celestia off him and turned to study that translucent blue map of light. “That’s Carniola…” “And it’s also your next assignment.” Celestia said as she tapped some keys on the side of the table. Whatever she did marked off a large swath of beach in red. “Twelve hours ago Captain Baxter initiated Operation North Star in cooperation with the Griffon government. The goal was simple, while our military retook the island the Northern Guard would eliminate the Griffion commander.” “De Witt… He finally took full control of the island, didn’t he?” Gramps asked. Celestia nodded. “Sadly he was fully prepared for our landings. The Northern Guard has been badly beaten, and our marines are barely dug in on our beachhead after being bombed out of their positions in the city of Emona.” “Let me guess, rocket artillery?” Celestia nodded once more. “We didn’t expect him to actually have any…” “So you ignored all of my reports and intel. That’s just wonderful!” Gramps snapped. “How many injured? How many ponies did we waste?” “So far there’s only been one casualty, a mare with the Northern Guard… But… Damn it. Meteor, De Witt brutalized her. It’s Cloud Runner all over again.” The pegasi’s name rung a bell right off the bat. “Woah, back up. Cloud Runner? What’s he got to do with this?” “I’ll tell you on the flight out.” Gramps replied. “So when do we leave?” “Immediately.” Celestia replied. “I’ve already been briefed on the material and soldiers you’ve brought back with you… HMS Redoubtable is picking them for redeployment as we speak.” “Alright, I can deal with that.” Gramps said as he wheeled away from the table. “Wait, we only just got back. Can we at least catch some sleep or something?” I asked. That got Gramps’ attention. “Dusk, we don’t get the luxury of sleep until the blood stops running. So come on… We’re going to war.” Author's Note See, there we go. The final chapter of Broken Mirror! WOO! A quick and clean ending, and a segway into Blaze Squad's introduction into the Carniola Theater (along with a few easter eggs relating to The Long Road). And this sets up an eventual Meteor Shower prequel story, which I'll probably start working on over this winter. Next up will be the first few proper prologue chapter to Reflections. My buddy Marik is already working the cover art, and so far the sketches are LIT! Stay tuned! In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Sins of our ForefathersPonyville Outskirts Cloud Runner Rolling around in bed half asleep made me realize something. I’m all alone. “Sky?” I groaned. “You up?” I sat up in bed and looked around the moonlit room, realizing I was the only one present, accompanied by a note on my bedstand. Swinging over to sit on the edge I grabbed the note and read it over. “Cosmo had an emergency?” I wondered aloud before I put the note back where I found it. How long ago did she- KNOCK! KNOCK! And another good question. Who’s trying to bash my door in at this time of night? A quick walk to the front door revealed my annoyance of the evening, as Sombra had broken out his key to let him and my father in. “Do you two know how late it is?” I asked. “Not the time.” Sombra brushed past me and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels with the remote. “You need to see this.” Finally the news came on to the video of a burning factory. “-and we still have no word on where the aircraft came from.”The camera panned away from the burning building and to a reporter standing on an abandon rail line. “Whatever the case-” An explosion erupted behind the reporter that threw her and the camerapony to the ground before the feed cut out. “What the hell was that?” I asked. “Something attacked Manehattan within the last hour, and your sister and brother-in-law are missing.” Dad answered. “I… I don’t know what to do.” “Just watch Storm.” I said as I pulled out my cell phone and dialed up Sky. “Come on, pick up…” I muttered as the phone buzzed away. “Hey, this is Sky. Leave a message” BEEP “Sky it’s me. Call me, alright?” I flipped the phone closed and tossed it down on the coffee table. “Come on Cloud, you’re retired.” Sombra insisted. “Semi-retired.” I reminded him as I marched off to my office. I strolled in and slid open the door to the walk-in closet by my desk. As the door hit the end of the track it triggered the lights, and my power armor appeared to glow under the soft white light. The back was open just like I had left it. “Cloud, come on.” Dad tried to plead as I stepped into the armor, followed by the clinking and hissing as it sealed itself shut. “You haven’t gone out for years. Why now?” “Sky isn’t answering her phone and someone is bombing Manehattan.” I retorted as the armor powered up and I stepped forward. “What am I supposed to do? Just sit here?” “You’re supposed to use your head!” Dad groaned. “What about Dust?” “What about me?” Finally, Dad realized the elephant in the room and whipped around to face my son, Dust Storm. “Grandpa, Dad… Did I miss something?” “Dust…” Dad muttered as he wrapped his grandson in a hug. I stood over the two and patted my son’s bedhead down. “Dad’s gotta go save the world kiddo.” My son nodded up at me. Dust never did have a problem with me and Sky running off to do Goddess knows what. Let’s be honest. It’s damn good bragging rights to say that you’re parents are veritable superheroes. “So Grandpa’s staying here?” He asked. “For now.” I said. “I’ll see you later kiddo.” Right off my office is a sliding glass door. Having done the same motions countless times before it wasn’t long before I was rocketing away from my house and headed skyward. With a flick of my wrist a map appeared on my helmet’s heads up display with a blinking red dot. “Just sit tight Sky… I’m coming.” *** The Grotto Dusk I just shook my head. “Say again Blue Leader?” “You heard me boss. Looks like a squad snuck out.” “Just fucking great…” I muttered. “Eagle, do you have eyes on?” “Negative Commander. Thermals can’t see anything through that smoke.” “Understood. Eagle, remain on station. Blue Flight return to base.” “Acknowledged sir.” Turning my attention to the video feeds of the old wire factory my heart sank. I know that Kovac is a threat… But I’m destroying what was my home. The news feeds didn’t make me feel much better as they showed the burning façade of the old brick building. “What are you up to Kovac?” “So you don’t know?” I whipped around as a tired-looking Cosmo strolled into the command center. “Kinda hard to wager a guess. Probably revenge for shooting him in the face?” I suggested, turning back to the displays once more. “Hell, maybe he’s out for resources? If he’s been building synths like he was he was before he might be running the reserves dry. I just don’t know enough right now Cosmo.” “Then tell me this.” He said. “Back in Carniola, you were calling these guys the Second Division. After that the unit was disbanded and the members when goddess knows where. What happened? And better yet how’s Specter still alive? I was there when he got shot.” “Well… Have a seat then.” I insisted. “At the very least I owe you some-” “Red Alert!" Came Dart's voice over the loudspeakers. "All hands to action stations!" “Answers later?” I asked. Cosmo nodded and swung open the door out in the hall, only to face down to equine-shaped beings armored in cream-colored plating. “The fuck is this?” He muttered. Immediately the leader whipped around and kicked him in the gut, knocking him back into the room. I looked from Cosmo to the equines out in the hall before I rolled behind one of the consoles with my pistol ready as one of the attackers ran after me and latched onto the collar of my armor. “Big mistake fucko!” I jumped back to my feet with the attacker still clinging to me and backpedaled him into the wall. Cosmo had already gotten up and was going blow for blow with the other, ducking wide swings before one slammed into the wall and shattered a section of concrete down to rebar. I wheeled around just as Cosmo leapt over the computer and slugged the attacker clear of my shoulders. “Well that was something!” I yelled as I caught the next swing from Cosmo's dance partner and slammed him down into one of the consoles. “You think?!” Cosmo yelled back as he struggled to keep a knife away from his shoulder. “Exactly!” I said as I drew out my pistol. Dropping into SATS slowed down the world around me and highlighted the attacker in a pale green glow. I cued up three shots and watched as they slammed home and showered Cosmo in sparks. “Goddess...” Muttered Cosmo as he shoved the dead body off him. “What the hell are these things?” A quick glance at the exposed circuitry proved my suspicions. “These would be synths.” “No shit?” He pulled out his revolver and put a round square in the busted android's chest. “That's from me you shithead!” “Angry much?” I asked. Cosmo glared at me before pointing at the crater in the wall. “I nearly got pulverized. Fill in the blanks Dusk.” “Dusk?” I turned to face the synth that I had smashed into the console and saw the android staring at me through it's shattered visor. “My my, you've been busy. You've even figured out how to be in two places at once!” “Kovac...” I growled. “Where are you?” “Why visiting with your double of course. But be honest with me, did you get lazy when it came to the colors?” Wait a minute, colors? “You leave my daughter out of this you piece of shit!” Cosmo yelled. “Oh, a new player!” Kovac's voice exclaimed. “So here's the game Dusk. I'll be taking minime back to Manehattan. To get her back you simply need to come there, disarm the havoc beneath the building and escort me to Canterlot with it. Simple enough?” “I'd say so.” I simply slammed my armored fist against the side of the synth's head, silencing it. “Dart, you read me?” “Heard everything. Jammer is up and running so Kovac can’t call for backup. Trust me, he's not taking Archer without a fight.” “Oh I believe it.” I muttered. “What about the fighters?" “I diverted them to the Griffon airfield just over the border near Vanhoover. Galland will have them rearamed and refueled, then send them back with some of theirs.” “Good. Keep me in the loop.” I clicked the radio off and looked over at Cosmo. “So are we gonna go save your daughter or what?” *** Location Unknown Archer What’s my name? Something to do with a bow and arrow… Archer, right. Wait, why did I have a problem remembering? “Because you grabbed a mind-altering magical artifact, you dolt!” It took me a minute to realize that yes, someone had indeed yelled at me and was standing right in front of me. “Now that I have your attention Archer, what about personality changing didn’t you understand?” I just cocked an eyebrow before finally remembering who was standing in front of me… Assuming you can call this fog cover a floor. “Dusk? Uh, what happened?” I’m obviously missing something that he’s trying to get across, considering the poor stallion is just giving me a blank stare. “Right… Timestream…” “What are you blathering about?” Dusk rolled his eyes before pulling a stool out of… Wait, where’d he get a stool? “Alright Archer, here’s the deal. I’m dead… At least I think I am. Now I don’t want you to end up like Caliper after he used that orb, so I decided to invite myself on in and make a few changes to how the spell works.” “That’s fine and dandy Dusk, but I got one question.” For some reason I felt compelled to sit down and found that I now had my own stool out of… You know what? That really shouldn’t be the big question. “Who’s Caliper?” “Caliper was a prisoner.” Dusk said curtly. “He was in jail for pony traficking, most notably my fiance Dart.” He stopped and looked at the ground for a moment before turning his attention back to me. “Or is it ex-fiance? I’m not too sure-” “Focus!” I yelled. “Who is Caliper?” “Right…” Dusk muttered. “Now I’m going to gloss over a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo here, but he’s the first pony to use the memory orb after I created it. It’s through his testing that I discovered the mental aftereffects.” “Alright, how could it be?” I asked. “He went to Manehattan, stripped naked in the middle of Central Station, cut off one of his ears and stuffed it up his ass before blowing his brains out.” I just nodded while Dusk’s expression seemed to darken. “But that’s not our main issue. Kovac’s Synths are coming for you Archer.” “How do you know?” “Just trust me and follow your instincts kiddo. We’ll talk more later, now wake up.” Immediately everything faded to black and I realized that I was lying in a bed with my eyes shut… And it was quiet. Very quiet. My eyelids slid open and I instinctivly wiped away whatever crust had built during my now-apparent nap. But on the very edge of my vision something stirred, and I recognized the sky-blue figure almost immediately. “Mom!” I tried to swing out of the bed and get to her, but I stumbled against the tangled sheets before smacking into a cold body that took a place between me and her. “You will come with us.” It said in a gravely voice. I glanced between it’s armored face and my mother before I did the only thing that came to mind. I lept back against the side of the bed, using it as a lever so I could lift my legs up and plant them against my uninvited guest’s torso and kicked. The force sent ‘him’ tumbling back into the wall with a resounding CRACK. “You want to run that by me again?” Something about the two friends that ran into the room with some sort of guns leveled at me tells me that, yes, they do in fact want to run that by me again. As the leader of the pair quickly closed the gap between the two of us I waited, watching as he raised his rifle and started swinging the but of the rifle down towards me. But the rifle wasn’t even halfway through it’s downward arc before I stepped out of the way and wrapped my arm up around the rifle and twisted it out of the pony’s grasp and steaded the butt against my own shoulder and pulled the trigger. BFZT! As the first pony fell I swung the sights onto the second and pulled the trigger again. BFZT! The second shot did something I didn’t expect; the second pony lit up in a blue glow before… Disolving, falling to the ground in a neat smoldering pile of ash and pieces of body armor. Rifle still in hand I slid over to my mother’s body and stuck my ear to her chest. “Still breathing…” I muttered. But this just brings up more questions. Was Mom trying to protect me from whoever those ponies were? Better yet why is Kovac interested in me? ...Doesn’t matter, I can’t stay put. What’s to say that there aren’t more of those ponies crawling around down here? “Well hello. It’s Archer, right?” I wheeled around with the rifle up and found myself face to face with the one-eyed stallion that crashed the party earlier in the evening. “I got to admit, I wasn’t expecting Dusk to have a protoge.” I shrugged and felt a cocky grin begin to grow across my muzzle. “Sorry to disappoint.” Kovac simply offered a chuckle. “My dear, I’m not disappointed.” He slowly pulled a nighstick out from the back of his belt and twirled it around a bit. “I’m impressed.” That look on Kovac’s face made my blood run cold and alarms in the back of my head started screaming at me to do something. So I did the only sensable thing that came to mind; I blasted Kovac square in the face and shoved him away from the door, and with speed I didn’t think I was capable of I swept down, scooped up Mom and ran right out the door. *** The Grotto, Main Hangar Cloud Runner You know it’s really hard to miss giant gaping holes in the side of a mountain, especially when there’s a bunch of smoke pouring from the entrance and wreckage is littering the mountain face. But that’s not even my main question; where the hell did Dusk get the money for a secret underground lair? I know the colt’s rich and all, but a massive hangar with guns and ships and who knows what else is a bit over the top. It was relatively easy to glide in through the open hole and land in the hangar next to two smoldering wrecks, which looked eirily like some sort of plane. My attention was shortly diverted from the wrecks by the echos of gunfire that came from the far side of the hangar. “Bring it on you wankers!” Wait a minute, I recognize that accent. I tapped the side of my helmet and a small window popped up. “Call Felix.” I whispered. My suit’s VI did the rest and dialed up the fox from my contacts. The line didn’t ring long. “Cloud, now ain’t a good time!” Came a distressed voice over helmet speakers. “Well I was just calling to tell you get you head down.” I said as I clicked the safeties off on my gauntlet’s laser emitters. “Wait, get our heads down?” Felix was silent for a moment before the reality of what I was saying hit him. “Sky, hit the deck!” I leapt up over the flaming wreckage and saw Felix and Sky running across the hangar as three ponies, one of which was sparking out of the side of it’s head, chased after them. “Cloud, they’re robots!” Sky yelled as she slid around a crate with Felix. “So no moral consequences?” I yelled back. “Count me in!” I landed in front of the sparking leader and did the only sensible thing that came to mind; I stuck my gauntlet in his face and flicked my wrist. BAMF! The laser went off and blew a hole straight through the thing’s helmet and out the back of it’s head in a shower of red and yellow sparks and melted slag. I ducked under the robot on the left’s attempt at a pistol whip and went for the one on the right. “Too slow!” I wrenched the other’s rifle out of it’s hands and snapped it on my knee. “Now get out of my inlaw’s cave!” I stepped back enough where I had the room to grab the two robots by the sides of their heads and smashed them together in a shower of sparks and more slag. I smirked under my helmet as the two piles of scrap slumped to the ground. “I still got it.” The release on my helmet clicked before being tugged away. “Damn right you do.” Sky swung around my shoulders and planted a quick kiss on my lips. “Now please tell me you got someone to watch Dust.” “Dad and Sombra have it covered.” I assured. “Now what the hell is going on here?” “Honestly? Dusk has some serious trust issues.” Felix snapped. “I mean come on! Who the hell thinks he needs a private army to take on one old stallion with a bunch of robots?” “What are you talking about?” “Remember that party that Dusk invited us to that we decided to skip?” Sky asked. “Of course I do.” “And do you remember how he told us about that stallion from the Second Divison who tried to kill him on that Wasteland trip of his?” Ah, I remember that feeling now. Deja vu. “So one of Dusk’s skeletons came back to try and enact his revenge because… Reasons?” “That’s about the size of it.” Felix retorted. “And trust me, there’s probably more of those cheeky bastards running around in here.” “Then what’s our plan?” I looked around the hangar, hoping to get an idea. “Better yet, where is everyone?” “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Yelled a golden and blue blur as she ran past. I turn my attention to the direction from where the blur came from and sighed. “Hey Felix?” I said as I checked over the emmitters on my gauntlets. “Ya?” He replied, sliding a fresh magazine into his pistol. “You’re a fucking jinx.” I said as I pulled my helmet from Sky’s grasp and slid it back on. Once the display kicked on it highlighted the five ponies walking towards us from the opposite side of the room, led by a one-eyed stallion in the front of the small crowd. “I’ll take the leader, you two take his cronies.” “What makes you think you’ve got him?” Sky asked. I just shrugged before dashing forward. Almost as if on que, everything around me seemed to slow down. An old teacher told me it was called ‘Spartan Time’, an ability fed by the increased perception my augmentations provided. But this stallion that I was rushing for was moving at what appeared to be normal speeds as he stepped off to the side and slammed his fists down into the back of my armor. “So you’re the famed Tempest?” He wondered aloud. “And here I thought you’d be a bit more challenging.” “I got my own surprises.” I growled, rolling away from the foot of this stallion and jumping up to my feet. “Anyone tell you that you’re fast?” I asked, tossing and missing a punch as the old warrior stepped back out of my reach. “So I’ve been told.” He retorted as he cocked the side of my helmet with the butt of a pistol. “Now are you-” BAMF! While the older stallion was distracted I managed to catch him in the chest with both of my gauntlets and knocked him backwards. “Told you I had some surprises of my own.” I chided as I charge forward and slammed into Kovac’s torso. I felt his hands bash against my back and armored wings, but I kept charging until the two of us crashed into the concrete wall that lined the back of the hangar. That impact got me to stop for just enough time for Kovac to push me off and blast me with some sort of kinetic spell, sending me tumbling head over heels across the hangar as the helmet display flashed system failure warning after failure warning. “Call Phalanx.” I managed to grunt as I felt someone grab the collar of my armor and toss me into a pile of crates. BRRING! BRRING! BRRING! “Come on, pick up…” I muttered as I managed to get back to my feet. “Cloud?” Phalanx groaned out over the line. “Do you know what time it is?” “Time for you to come save my-” I didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence as Kovac whacked the back of my helmet with some large tool that was lying on the ground. "You came out of retirement, didn’t you?" “Semi-retirement!” I snapped. “Now can you help or not?” “Give me two minutes.” I rolled my eyes as the line clicked dead. “Probably don’t have two minutes…” I muttered as I was hauled back to my feet and planted into a wall. I ignored Kovac as he kept throwing punches at my helmet and focused on the failure warnings. Booster failure, weapons misfire, navigation error, and other similar messages blinked in and out of the message window on my HUD. But one stood out; structural integrity comprimised. Goddess, what’s this fucker throwing at me? My anwser finally came when the lens of my helmet cracked and finally shattered as Kovac threw two final punches before ripping my helmet off and tossing it away. “Anything else you have to say?” Kovac asked as he put a knife to my throat. When I noticed the familiar pony that had snuck up behind him I just smirked. “Well ya, don’t turn around.” “What?” Kovac staggered before being tossed to the ground a few feet away. And the reason, that saviour that decided to show up early, was standing over Kovac. “I’ll handle this joker Cloud.” Phalanx called out as his eyes started to glow a faint emerald green. I’m in no mood to argue with that. I scooped up my helmet off the floor and dashed across the hangar to where Sky and Felix were just finishing up the last of the four robots they were taking on… And by finishing up did I mention that it involved Sky ripping the thing’s head from it’s shoulders? “We good?” I asked, stepping over the two other sets of dismatled remains. “We’re-” “Hit the deck!” Felix yelled, hauling the rest of us to our knees as a body flew overhead and slammed into the concrete. “Hey Cloud?” Phalanx groaned. “Yes Phalanx?” “Is there any specific reason you were able to surive fighting that bastard?” He grunted, clutching the lower part of his chest. “Just call me lucky.” I retorted as I turned away, staring down the stallion that was stalking his way towards us. “How long do you think that luck’s gonna last?” Sky asked. I just shrugged and took up a defensive stance. “We’re about to find out.” *** Dusk “I guess we missed most of the party.” I muttered as I hopped over the wreck of what was one of my fighters, nearly tripping over two ponies huddling behind the wrecked fusilage. “No, not really.” Archer said as she crawled out from behind her cover, as her mother poked her head up over the side. “Oh thank the Goddess!” Cosmo said with an air of relief as he wrapped his adopted daughter in a tight embrace. “Yup, don’t need to breathe or anything.” She groaned. Now this right here doesn’t look right. “How are you even awake?” I asked. “That orb should’ve had you out for at least another day.” Archer just offered a shrug and picked up her rifle off the ground. “No clue, but I’m not too picky.” “Where’d you get that?” Cosmo asked. “Ripped it away from a synth before Kovac came to visit.” Archer snorted. “Now can we please go take this guy down?” Right, Kovac is still in the building. Might want to- “Hit the deck!” Cosmo dove to the floor just as a grey stallion sailed over our heads and crashed to the ground behind us with a clatter of loose metal. “Fuck! He spat out, struggling to get off the ground. I looked over at the beaten form of Phalanx as a slow realization hit me like a sack of bricks. Here is one of the most powerful stallions that I have ever known, and he’s clearly been getting his ass handed to him. “Dusk, what’s your plan?” Cosmo asked, accompanied by the nearly silent sounds of brass sliding into their places in a stainless revolver cylinder. I finally turned to face the object of my problems for the evening. Off behind him I saw my future brother-in-law slumped against the wall by the main elevator. “I’ll keep him busy, you just rally the troops.” With a flick of my wrist the shield indicator on my HUD came to life, filling up and flashing a pale blue within seconds. “Here we go…” Once the dampers in the armor unlocked I charged forward, crossing the empty floor between myself and Kovac in a matter of moments. I swung out my right arm but caught nothing but air as Kovac simply disappeared. As some massive force slammed into my back I managed to wheel around and grind to a halt. Standing across from me was a glowing-eyed Kovac, who I could rightly assume was the reason my shields had simply dropped to zero. “Come on Dusk, do you really think that I wouldn’t see that one coming?” “Would’ve been nice.” I retorted, opting to rip the pistol from the strip it was sticking to on my thigh. BANG! BANG! BANG! Kovac ducked around the three bullets I managed to get off before he slammed right into me, sparking fist and all, and knocked me onto my back. “Well I did my job. Goodbye Dusk.” I managed to get to my knees just in time to watch Kovac and the few Synths left in the hangar teleport away. “Damn it!” “You alright?” Cosmo asked as he jogged over and tried hauling me to my feet. “Could be better.” I groaned. “Everyone still in one piece?” Cosmo nodded as Cloud and Sky joined us while Felix ran past to go check on Phalanx. “For the most part.” He replied. “Now when was someone going to bring in on this?” Cloud asked as he wiped some dirt off his face. “Honestly? I was hoping that this little hole in the wall would prove to be a waste.” “So was really Kovac?” Sky asked. I nodded and pulled off my helmet. “Certianly was him.” “Then I don’t think I need to point out that we’re outmatched.” She said. “You’re preaching to the quior Sky.” I retorted. “So you have a plan?” Cosmo asked. “I think I do.” I said. “Cosmo, go call your brain trust.” *** The Grotto Control Room Archer I think I sat in the corner of the control room for the better part of three hours before Dusk finally walked back into the room. He had ditched the armor he was wearing and swapped for a pair of jeans with a black shirt. “Alright, everyone here?” He yelled. Towards the front of the room Cosmo’s mother Constellation and my ‘Uncle’ Storm Cloud both got up. “Took you long enough.” The older mare chided. “Now how badly did you fuck up where I need to clean up after you?” “Mom, can you not do that now?” Dad asked as he came in behind Dusk, helping Phalanx hobble along. “Goddess…” She muttered and ran over to help Phalanx. “What the hell happened?” “Kovac.” Dad said. “That old ghost came crawling out of the woodwork.” “Dusk?” “Yes Consti?” “I though you said Kovac was dead.” Dusk just shrugged. “Well I was right to think that he wasn’t.” “And that’s why he built a secret base and raised a small force of mercenaries.” I added. “Or did I miss something?” Dusk shook his head and walked towards the holotable at the front of the room, waving for the others to follow. But I didn’t, or maybe I couldn’t. I started feeling a bit weak and slumped back in my chair as everything grew a bit darker and faded out of focus. “Well, welcome back kiddo.” I shot up in my chair and realized that I was still in the control room… Except it was empty. “You’re the ghost pony… Thing... Right?” “Absolutely.” The ghostly version of Dusk said. “We never did really cover the part on how I died, did we?” “Nope. You said you thought you were dead and told me to wake up.” “And you finally passed back out after the adrenaline wore off.” He retorted. “At least the synths are gone, so we’ve got time to work with.” “Wait, what are you talking about?” Dusk just sighed. “Dart, it’s complicated. Look, I’m going to die. Hell, I’m already dead.” “But I was just giving you a snarky remark not even a minute ago.” I pointed out. “Well that’s what happens when you blow yourself up when you’re in between universes.” Dusk spat. “Archer, look… You’re the best pony around to succeed me. I just need to get you ready.” “Ready for what?” I asked, most certianly with a puzzled look plastered across my face. “Dusk, what are you trying to tell me?” “I’m trying to tell you anything Archer.” Dusk assured me. “I’m trying to show you how this crapshoot got started.” “Alright… How are we doing this then?” “Just relax.” Dusk said as the world around me began to fade to white. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you.” Author's Note And there it is. After plenty of time writing, revising, and seeking inspiration (in addition to the regular fuckery), I've finally finished and published the prologue of Broken Mirror Part II. I'd like to extend some thanks to both Pia-Sama and Volrathxp. For now the focus will turn back to finishing The Long Road, which has two or three more chapters left before it's finally tied off. Anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
Dawn (Arc II)The Northern Wasteland, Village Ruins When Porter said there was a crane in the cargo hold he wasn’t kidding. I wasn’t just staring at some hoist, but an honest to goodness crane that looked more at home on some construction site than in the belly of an airship. Lucky for us it was already hooked up to a metal pallet, so we could in theory all hop on and come up from the wasteland below at one time. And with the bridge at the other end of the hallway I would be surprised if Porter couldn’t get to the controls in time to lift us away from whatever horrors awaited us below. As Gramps shoved the pallet out of the open sliding hatch in the floor I came to the realization that we weren’t all that high off the ground, that fact being reinforced by the audible thud I heard as the pallet hit the ground below the airship. “Are we even going to need rappel?” I asked. Gramps didn’t say anything, instead opting to pull a familiar shotgun off of his back and hand it to me. “From this height? Probably not. It would probably save time to just jump down and cushion the fall with a telekinetic spell.” “Uh… You can do that?” I asked. Gramps is far older than me and had significantly more training in the use of magic over the years than I did, so he would be the one to know if that's a possibility. “Well I can.” The old stallion replied as he grabbed my collar. “I just don’t do it all that often with two ponies.” “Wait, what?” I didn’t get an answer as Gramps dove down through the hatch dragging me out with him. All it took was three incredibly long seconds for me to realize that I had landed feet first in snow that barely reached my ankles. Off to my left Gramps had pulled out his revolver and had loaded three rounds into the cylinder before swinging it closed with a flick of the wrist. “Well I’d mark that off as a success.” “You call jumping out of the bottom of an airship a success?” I snapped. Gramps just rolled his eyes. “You didn’t break any bones. Did you?” “I don’t think I can.” I retorted. “Fine by-” Gramps stopped mid sentence and whirred around. “We’ve got incoming.” He said as he leveled his revolver. I shouldered my shotgun and pointed it towards the underbrush. “What makes you say that?” “EFS has two blips.” Gramps replied. EFS should be able to determine friend from foe… “Are those dots red or yellow?” I asked. Gramps must’ve cocked an eyebrow at what I had asked. “Does it make a difference?” As two ponies stumbled out of the brush and fell to the ground in a heap I nodded. “Damn right it does.” I ran over to the collapsed bodies and felt a wave of relief smack into me. Kovac was right on the money with his tracking trick, and both Specter and Jericho stumbled right back to us. Specter forced himself off Jericho and rolled onto his back to stare up at me. “Fancy seeing you here.” He groaned. I reached down and hauled the bruised stallion back to his feet. “I could say the same thing.” Specter stopped and motioned for my help as he knelt down to pick up a very weak Jericho. “How did you two get away from the furies?” As the two of us got up with Jericho hanging limply between us on his arms Specter shook his head. “I don’t think we actually got away. I think they’ve been tailing us since we escaped the outpost.” Well that’s a problem. “So then why haven’t they made a move?” I asked. To my surprise Jericho stretched his neck, proving to me that he wasn’t unconscious as he appeared to be. “They like to play with their food.” Jericho muttered. “Play with their food…” Oh shit. I fished out my radio and clicked it on. “Porter, are you on that gun?” “Roger that.” The stallion called out over the channel. “You might want to hurry it up down there though, I’m seeing some movement in the woods all around you.” Well that's just great. “Light em’ up Porter!” I yelled and started dragging Jericho towards the makeshift lift. Even over the wind I could hear the turret motors whine as it spun around in search of clear targets. “Alright, here we go!” Above us I heard distinct series of thuds followed by the sounds of bullets flying at nearly the speed of sound smacking into the trees. “What the hell?!” Specter exclaimed in shock. “Just go with it!” I yelled as I pushed the two stallions onto the metal slab. “Porter, I’ve got two ready to come up.” “Copy that Dusk, stand by.” Gramps pushed Specter down onto his rear and pointed at the cables that were anchored on each corner of the pallet. “You’re gonna want to hold on to one of those.” Specter didn’t argue as the cable went taught and pallet began ascending towards the unseen picked hovering over the clearing. *need howling noise* “Sounds like the furies are mad.” I observed. “Well we did just steal their chewtoys.” Gramps added as he swept the revolver around. “Other than that it’s just another day at the office.” As I saw the bushes begin to shake around as furies moved about through the brush I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Those are some famous last words.” I joked. Gramps nodded and smiled. “Phalanx said the same thing at Midlothian Ridge. But there’s one big difference in play here.” “And what would that be?” As the first fury charged out of the brush Gramps grabbed it and pulled it in close with his telekinesis. “These feather brains are outclassed.” With one fluid motion he swung the pistol barrel up under the chin of the Changeling and clicked off the safety. BANG! As the first fury’s brains sprayed out in all direction the rest of the furies must’ve gotten the memo as at least five of them charged out of the brush. The slide on my shotgun slid without any resistance and put the first round into the weapon’s chamber. “Here we go!” As the first fury got within arms reach I swung my left hand out and grabbed it by the throat. As it struggled to get closer I saw a second one come rushing in off to my right. “Big mistake buddy!” I yelled as I pointed the shotgun towards the rushing equine. BOOM! The gun kicked back hard with nothing to hold back against the recoil of the twelve gauge buckshot, but those little white hot balls of lead hit home, striking the second fury square in the chest. With that out of the way I tossed the first fury to the ground and chambered a new round. BOOM! The entire spread of shot blew a gaping hole in the fury’s back. There wasn’t any sign of movement so I wheeled around to help Gramps… Only he looked entirely fine. He had already dealt with his second attacker judging by the body on the ground with it’s head at an odd angle. His third opponent was being pelted by a barrage of fists that ended as Gramps swept his legs out and forced him onto the ground. “Sorry about this.” I heard him mutter as he aimed his revolver right at the fury’s chest. BANG! As the fury went limp in he snow another important thought came to mind. There were far more than four furies back at the outpost. To our luck though the pallet hit the ground empty at that very moment. “Come on you two!” Porter called out over the radio. Gramps and I both took places on either side of the pallet. Both of us grabbed the central cable just as it tightened under our weight and began to lift us away from the ground. As we were only a few feet off the ground a dozen furies came charging towards us from the brush. “Sorry kids, we’ve gotta go!” Gramps yelled as he aimed his revolver with his free hand. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! I only saw two furies fall to the last of the rounds in Gramp’s revolver but by the time they had reached where we were standing our method of escape was already too far out of their reach. As our ride finally arrived in the cargo hold of the picket another issue came to the fore; Jericho. In the brighter lights of the ship I could see that his jacket was no longer the same brown it had once been, but was instead a dark maroon. Specter was hanging over him trying to put more pressure on the stab wound he had sustained during our failed escape from the outpost. But then Gramps pushed the young stallion out of the way, scooped Jericho’s limp body up and marched out into the corridor. I was just as dumbfounded as Specter clearly was before following Gramps on instinct. I didn’t say a word as we entered the Captain’s cabin. Gramps had laid Jericho down on the bunk and had already pulled off his coat. But he was fighting with the body armor he wore underneath it. “Specter?” Gramps called out. “I need a hand here.” Specter pushed past me and joined Gramps at the bedside. The two began whispering inaudibly, so I decided it was a good time to take my leave. As I stepped onto the bridge I saw that Porter had moved to the helm. Clearly he had laid in a course as his attention had turned to an old black leather-bound book. “What are you reading?” I asked. Porter closed the book and turned around in his chair. “Steadfast’s log.” He said. “Steadfast…” I muttered. “You mean the Captain?” Porter nodded. “He was defintely busy after I saw him last.” I took a seat in the Captain’s chair and nodded. “Well his ship got up here somehow, didn’t it?” “Oh it did.” Porter replied. “But he took a few side trips before even heading north.” Sidetrips? In the postwar world? “Like what?” “Like saving the early Enclave from an attack by a Zebra-controlled Raptor, coming across the last surviving ministry mare…” Porter droned. “But they never went to the reseach base.” “There must’ve been a reason to abandon the original plan.” I pointed out. Porter nodded. “There was. They found survivors in Poneva City.” Poneva City… I can’t say I’m entirely familiar with the name. “So the crew went native then and moved in with the survivors?” “Not quite.” Porter explained. “They were trying to protect them, and from what I’m reading here him and Spark-” “Spark?” I asked. “He wouldn’t happen to be a white unicorn, woud he?” “He certainly was.” Porter replied. “And he was the first officer on this ship.” Now we need to cover something. I’ve met a white unicorn named Spark who proceeded to get himself blown up on the Chicacolt. Only hours ago I was face to face with a snow fury wearing his face as a mask, and now I’m hearing that the first officer assigned to this craft went by the same name and had a similar description. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that the universe is trying to tell me something. “Something wrong Dusk?” Porter asked. He must’ve seen that I was rather confused and was deep in thought after my last question. “It’s probably nothing.” I insisted. “Now you said they found something?” Porter nodded. “You’re gonna want to stay in that seat, because this is going to take a while.” *** Three Days Later, Neighfair The last few days have been a great success, that much I can say without question. Gramps was able to stabilize Jericho just at the last minute. The stallion had lost a lot of blood and his wound was starting to show signs of infection by the time we returned to Neighfair. And damn did we return. The moment we started walking down that ramp off the picket every single Division soldier that saw us arrive came running. By now they all knew what we had left for, and when Porter held up both of those activation keys over his head the entire crowd erupted in cheers. Those two keys were a symbol of our very first major victory in our campaign against WestWind. Jericho was immediately spirited away to an infirmary and Kovac made his way onto the ship. As he put it the Marines at the salvage yard have had enough of a rest. In a matter of hours we had the entire unit out of cryo and Porter was giving orders and directing operations to pack up every single piece of stored equipment. I stuck with him for the whole two day ordeal, getting plenty of surprised looks and greetings from marines who I didn’t even recognize. Porter of course tried to bring as many of his soldiers up to speed as he could, using the ten ferry flights from the facility to Neighfair as time to brief them. He even did a good job of clearing out the second deck’s mess hall, turning it into an excellent briefing amphitheater. By the end of the second day I was simply beat and finally saw myself in a mirror. The armor I was wearing was burnt clear through to the human-designed undersuit that I never got rid of. With that in mind I procured a Marine off-duty uniform and exchanged my destroyed armor for it temporarily. After that I found a bunk and slept until almost noon time today. And what’s happening today? “So explain this to me again.” Kovac said. “What did they find in Poneva?. It was time to debrief, and with Jericho still bedridden that briefing took place in the otherwise empty infirmary. And now we’ve come to the part about Steadfast’s logbook. Porter did explain everything, even letting Kovac read the book in the middle of the meeting. I took a moment to look around the room and noticed that in a cup in the center of the table that was brought in was a red and white candy cane. With nothing better to do I grabbed it and started twirling it around my fingers. “From what I can tell Steadfast didn’t know much more than the crew. But what he’s describing sounds almost like some sort of ghosts.” Kovac chuckled. “I’m sorry, but ghosts?” Porter nodded. “Those ghost were using some seriously messed up magic. And with the city’s proximity to the Crystal Empire he seemed to think that something from there had something to do with it.” At that word I stopped paying attention and let my mind wander. For whatever reason I kept thinking of two ponies, and it was rather clear. They were in the middle of a firefight of some sort. I couldn’t see who they were fighting but I could make out the details. The stallion of the pair was clad in a ramshackle Stable jumpsuit wearing nothing else but a scarf as he blasted away with a ten millimeter pistol. I couldn’t tell what the mare was shooting, but I took note of her candy red fur and a mane that was filled with white stripes. To be completely honest it reminded me of that very candy cane that I had picked up. Something about that image made me feel better about what I had learned about Poneva. Sure there’s something going on up there, but even if Steadfast’s crew had failed to solve the problem it was these two that for whatever reason I was picturing as having something to do with the solution. Suddenly a pair of yellow fingers snapped right in front of my face.“Equestria to Dusk!” “Right, sorry” I said as my attention returned to the meeting at hand. “You were saying something Kovac?” “I was wondering what you thought we should do about this.” The Division Commander asked. “You’ve had a lot longer to think about this development than I have.” I thought back to my daydream for a moment before putting the candy cane back in the cup. “I say we leave it.” Kovac raised an eyebrow at my rather simple opinion. “Alright… Why? We’ve potentially got some sort of supernatural force running rampant up there.” Again thinking back to my daydream I leaned back in my chair and smiled. “Because even if Steadfast’s crew failed I’ve got a good feeling that the problem is well at hand.” I stopped for a moment before leaning forward and resting in my elbows. “Furthermore we’ve got a far bigger problem at hand and we’ve seen no sign that this supposed dark influence has done anything south of Poneva. It’s just not worth our energy to pursue.” Kovac simply nodded. “Then we’ll consider it a dead issue.” He said as he got up from his chair. “In the meantime I’ll be in the command center. Feel free to come see me if you need anything.” As Kovac left the room I began to think back to the information about the tracking crystal imbedded under Specter’s skin. Said stallion was sitting silently next to Jericho’s bedside, the two of them having simply listened to our discussion. “Specter, can I ask you something?” He simply nodded. “Did you know that you had a tracking crystal planted on you?” Judging by both his and Jericho’s confused looks I’d say they didn’t know. “I’m sorry, but a tracking crystal?” “Yes.” I said. “Kovac gave us the frequency it worked. That's how we found the two of you.” “Did he say why he had one on him?” Jericho asked. I nodded as I thought back to our radio conversation. “He said that it was to find Specter if he got lost in the valley outside of the mountain base.” Jericho furrowed his brow, glanced up at Specter before turning his focus back to me. “Dusk, I raised Specter after his parents died. Believe me, the only time he left the base was when we attempted our Manehattan expedition a few years ago.” Now I have another reason to be concerned about Kovac’s revelation. Here I have the father figure of Specter’s life telling me the exact opposite that Kovac had. And where I was already questioning his explanation I think it's safe to say that I can’t trust everything I’m hearing out of Kovac’s mouth. “You three do realize that we can’t let this discussion leave this room, right?” “Can I just point out how crazy that sounds?” Porter stated. “Just as crazy as a makeshift tracking radar?” I said in return. “Wait, tracking radar?” Jericho said. “The mountain base doesn’t have anything to even build a radar with, let alone power and maintain the equipment. It wasn’t considered priority when building it.” I just had to look at Porter to get an affirmative nod out of him. “So it’s settled then. If anyone outside this room asks this conversation never happened.” But even with that decision in mind I can tell that everyone assembled is a bit worried. I can’t rightly blame them… Because it looks like we may need to watch out for more than just the Enclave in the days ahead. Author's Note And there, ladies and gentlemen, is the end of Arc II. We see Dusk starting to grow wary of Kovac in the wake of revelations regarding his "tracking crystal" information, as well as a nod to Rising Dawn with Dusk's daydream during the debrief at the very end of the chapter. At this point in time Dusk is still young and prone to a wandering mind when bored, something that hasn't really been seen until now. Rest assured we'll see that again eventually. Up next we'll see another Interlude to bring us back to the present day, where Archer will have some questions to answer as to whether she truly is "alright", followed by the Comet and Strike story arc "It Takes a Village". I'll probably hold off on publishing that one until I can get a cover made for it. In the mean time take a look at Fallout Equestria: E-201. Originally it was just going to be Steadfast's journal entries from immediately after the Last Day, but after deciding that the chapters are missing something I'm starting to add in stretches of dialogue to break up the journal entries and add some context to them. In the meantime, anyone got questions? Like what you're seeing so far? Hell, maybe have some gripes? There's a comment section and the Mirrorverse Codex. Read and comment away, because I want to hear from you fellow denizens of this corner of the internet. Until next time gang! -Striker
