Fallout: Equestria- Burdens

Chapter 2- Extraction

"There is something out there. Something of great importance..."

I wasted no time flying around the corridors to cut the time in half, possibly upsetting some officers that were carrying folders of who-knows-what. Even more embarrassing when I had to stop and ask for directions since my conversation with Diamond Dust just threw my memory down the can.

Five minutes later, I found my way back to the Hangar bay. Looking at it more clearly since I arrived it was a slow sight. Our few remaining Sky Tanks and Vertibucks were sitting in their spots gathering dusts. They were getting some care from Technicians to the best of their abilities, unfortunately it looked like we’d be running out of spare parts soon. That’s where neglect gets tech these days. Whatever armor we couldn’t fit in the hangars for training space were on the top landing platforms. The flat head of the anvil. Mainly just more Vertibucks, Sky Tanks, bomber chariots and the lot. Heard we used to have Raptors and now we don’t.

I scanned from the entrance and found my squad gathered by Aviatrix's designated Versatile Deploy and Air Support - or VDAS, Vertibuck. This Vertibuck, in particular, was affectionately named ‘Singularity’ by Aviatrix.

A rather impressive Pre-war Vertibuck- something that’s served its time through and through, according to the some officers. This Vertibuck in particular is now considered a Hybrid Model at this point. That’s mainly due to scrapping out-of-commision vehicles to keep the good ones in check. We can’t make more, so desperate times came with desperate measures- and a whole lot of trial and error. It’s got the six-bladed rotors and cargo space of a Transport Vertibuck, but an armored hull and canopy of a Combat Vertibuck. At least they settled for consistency when they replaced the rotors. Doesn’t look half bad.

"Ward!"

My eyes blinked and I looked to the source of Typhoon’s call. I flicked my head slightly at him as I glided towards them, making a firm halt mid-air I gracefully landed next to them as they took some steps back to give me some room. They could tell that there was a bad feeling around me.

Fallstreak tried to ask for a reason behind my brooding expression, trying to pat me with a hoof. "You ok, Ward?"

I sharply swatted his hoof away, so hard I didn't realize that I ended up having Fallstreak bite down on his tongue to hold back a yelp. I didn't mean to hit him so hard.

"I'm fine." I said with clenched teeth. Clearly, things were not ok. Alright, get a grip. I’m tired, let myself get the shit kicked out of me, looked like a burden and had my room trashed, had a pointless talk… I’m frustrated.

Typhoon nodded with consideration as he knew the chat I had with Diamond Dust wasn't a good one. He cleared his throat and stomped his left forehoof lightly on the steel floor to get our attention. "Well. We have our mission, and unfortunately, it's to protect these assholes while they are trusted with package retrieval."

I still couldn’t believe that the fucking Wonderbolts got to do the important shit and we just sit by idly watching the big vast emptiness that is this Wasteland. It's just a big waste of time, but priority is a priority I will give it that; still, I would be much happier if it wasn't that son of a whore's, asshat Ace over there. If he dies out there, I wouldn't care; now that I think about it, nopony would care. It's Ace we are talking about after all.

"Right, the first thing we need to do is designate our roles while we’re outside," Typhoon said, bringing our attention to him as he began plotting out our roles in the squad. "Aviatrix is obviously our pilot. No need to get into any more details with that…” He looked at me. "Ward, you, Fallstreak, and I will be standard rifle ponies; Loaded Gun will be the guard of the Vertibuck once we land."

"Why am I not on the Vertibuck?" Fallstreak whined. I had a feeling he would ask that.

"You know why, Fallstreak." I commented firmly without making eye contact. He still doesn't have control over his hypersexuality. We can't have him sniffing in tight places, especially when he is alone with Aviatrix.

"You might like mares, but this mare ain't givin' you any." Aviatrix quipped, bringing out the silent chuckles from all of us. Myself included.

My laughter was short lived when I thought about something. Something pertaining to Aviatrix and the Vertibuck. I looked to her, “ Avie. Are you sure you’ll be alright?” She looked at me confused until I looked at the Vertibuck. “ You alright with...you know?”

“I’ll be fine, Ward.” she said with a small confident smile, thumping her chest. “Don’t worry about me.” Then I noticed her smile turn coy. “You know, you saying that still makes me curious.”

I almost felt myself blush and I turned away to hide it. Then I heard them laugh like at the Mess. Why is she bringing that up? Is it a sudden coping mechanism? Sometimes I wonder: if a mare can tell why a stallion acts the way they do (or something like that), why can’t she see why?

The mood died when a pegasus in a standard-issue flight suit came our way. Their face was obscured with goggles, a flight cap, and a scarf of some sorts. The only form of identification on them were two sewn badges on each of the shoulders; one resembling the symbol of The Enclave, and the other displaying an Aviation Battalion badge similar to Aviatrixes.

They didn’t say anything. Just stood there, their chest rhythmically inflating and deflating with each breath. We just stood there and stared, expecting words.

“Um, hello?” Typhoon said in a manner of confusion.

“Are you Sergeant Typhoon?” The pegasus asked (judging from the pitch, it was definitely a mare).

“Yeah, that’s me.” Typhoon answered stepping forward from the group towards the newcomer. He tilted his head slightly, “Who’s asking?”

“I was assigned to aid the Stormtroopers in their mission?” She answered, her words coming to an inflection. “Something about, needing an extra pilot?”

“Were those...questions?” Typhoon asked the pegasus. My thoughts exactly. Either she’s genuinely confused with what she’s saying or that’s a quirk in her speech. Or both.

“No. No.” The pegasus corrected her tone. Thank whoever that she’s not one of those types. “Some uncertainty came about the whole thing. Sorry.”

“No worries,” Typhoon said. “But my previous questions still stand: Who’s asking?” The pegasus didn’t answer and Typhoon reiterated, “What I mean is: Who are you?”

The pegasus pulled the scarf down from her face and lifted the goggles from her eyes. Pale purple and gold, respectively. Her hat was off now, revealing a slate blue crew cut. Next thing you know she saluted. “I forgot, Sir. Drift. Reporting for duty, Sir.”

Well I guess it’s safe to say she’s new- maybe a little too new, as a matter of fact. Who am I kidding, I think we’re all still green considering we’ve never seen real action. Let’s just differentiate by calling the two types ‘old green’ and ‘new green’.

“And you’re here because why?” Typhoon asked.

“I was ordered by Major General Virga to assist you all in piloting the Vertibuck. Sir!” She answered fluidly yet firmly, and still holding that salute.

Typhoon looked back at Aviatrix and I looked at her. She shrugged. “At least they knew. I was going to mention that I needed another to help me get her off the ground.”

“Hmm.” Typhoon hummed. He turned his head back to Drift who was still holding the salute up. He raised a hoof and sort of tapped the air. “You can drop the salute now.”

Drift did just that, “Sorry, Sir.”

“Anyways,” Typhoon said before turning to Aviatrix. “So she’s your Co-pilot. Wanna show her the ropes? Get to know the Vertibuck?”

Aviatrix nodded with a smile before approaching Drift. She greeted our acquaintance before literally taking her under her white wing and over to the Vertibuck. “This is the bird we’re flying. Her name is Singularity. Ain’t she pretty?”

Aviatrix. Approachable and friendly. Still wouldn’t mean you’d want to see her mad.

"Ward, let's suit up." Typhoon derailed my thoughts with a bump of my shoulder. I blinked my eyes twice and looked over to him. When my mind echoed the words, I nodded. The four of us made our way to those damned suits while the mares got acquainted and prepped.

* * * * * *

The armor and munitions storage. How convenient that we found it next to this particular hangar. This spacious room had an immense stockpile of M.E.W.s. Racks and shelves of energy rifles, pistols, and their respective ammunition were neatly organized within the room. You had your lasers with lasers, plasma with plasma, and novasurge with your novasurge. They were never mixed and kept together in their respective categories.

Despite the plethora of powered off marvels of Arcane Science, they were only the bonus in our case. On the complete opposite side of where we entered, suspended seperate storage station compartments were pairs of slick, insectoid-esque suits of Power Armor. They just floated there with those bright orange lenses. They were enough to strike fear into anypony who looked at them.

The blue barrier of telekinetic shield energy reflected off the distinctive two-toned, storm gray and black armor. From where I was standing, the armor looked relatively ‘new’. It wasn’t ‘fresh-from-the-production-line’ new, but it was as new looking as it could get. Kept together with near perfect maintenance using spare parts from the other inoperable suits and a good hoof with a welder.

Still, sometimes one can wonder how different things would be if we could actually make more of these things. A shame I can’t keep looking at it without my heart wanting to stop. Almost wanted to collapse from staring at it for too long. Those memories...the pain, are at the floodgates. Pathetic.

"Ward!" Typhoon's voice called to me. My senses came back and my eyes focused on him. I saw that my squadmates were already suited up and Typhoon was looking at me like he was expecting something to happen. "You ok?"

I nodded my head, confirming I was alright. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was actually doubting myself. I disabled the spell field around the suit in front of me and it gently landed. The container opened and extended the suit out to me on a platform, allowing me to fiddle with it outside that claustrophobic container.

Ok. Ok. First things first. I opened the suit with a hard press of a square plate on its back. It hummed and popped open, immediately welcoming me to step into its shady frame.

I couldn't move for a moment. The hum froze me in place, and I could feel my heart racing. My sides felt like they were collapsing on themselves with slow yet powerful phantom force. I almost fell over from the pressure building up in me if Typhoon hadn’t saw it coming.

"Ward! Hey!" Typhoon's voice echoed in my head. Through my sporadic breathing and heartbeat, I could hear Typhoon order Fallstreak to hold me up, and then his face came into my view.

He went on to slap me softly on my right cheek with his power armored hoof, along with a wave of a hoof over my vision. "Ward! Hey, focus on me! Just breathe!"

"What's wrong with him, Sarge?" I heard Fallstreak as he prompted me up.

" A training accident," Typhoon's voice echoed for a bit. "He's been afraid of the damned things since."

"Training accident?" Fallstreak asked.

"We’ll talk later. Right now we just need to get him back up."

Hearing them talk about me like this was enough for me to fight through my fear momentarily. I had to. It doesn’t look good for me. With effort, more agitation, and willpower, I shook them off, shaking off the pins and needles from all my limbs.

"Ward, I can talk to Diamond Dust," Typhoon mentioned. "If you're not ready then I think you coul-"

"I'm fine Typhoon!"

"But Ward, It's my job to look after all of you. I don't think that you ar-"

"I said: I'm fine! Just give me a moment."

Typhoon sighed, then nodded. He beckoned Fallstreak to get into his suit. I know he means well, but it's embarrassing to see them help me like this- especially if Diamond Dust gets involved. I've already mentioned it before, but I don't want to have my friends worry about me so much. I don’t.

Taking deep breaths to control my heart rate, I looked at the open frame as it waited for me to step in.

Breathe in...Hold...Exhale…

Breathe in...Hold...Exhale...

Once the suit felt my weight on all fours it closed, the frame tightening itself around my neck, legs, torso, wings, and tail. My heart rate began to accelerate again, and I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, expecting the worst case scenario. Once I felt my tail get tightly wrapped and sealed into the suit, my heart wanted to stop.

When the helmet was about to seal itself, I panicked and yanked it off before it could seal. I waited in dread for something terrible to happen after the sudden movements.

After what felt like an eternity, I opened my eyes to see that I was fine. I looked down to see myself encased in the sleek black armor. I still wasn’t letting my guard down, however. My tail was now tightly wrapped in a flexible metal that was fashioned with a curved blade at the tip, giving it an almost radscorpion-like appearance. Sharp, deadly, and gives goosebumps the longer you stare at it.

I extended my wings (rather cautiously) to make sure everything was in order and not set for dislocation. My wings were now reinforced with thin, aerodynamic sheath-like metal behind each primary and secondary feather, outlining them with dark gray. Folding them back up the metal feathers brushed up against each other, making a clean scraping sound that made the hairs on my neck crawl.

It was my turn for a Novasurge rifle to be placed into the suits built-in battlesaddle. Typhoon seemed way ahead of me and got one for me from one of the many metallic weapon racks on the opposite side of the room. Soon after the rifle was firmly placed at my side ready to be used. With a click, the Novasurge linked to the suit's system and was firmly connected to my right side. Normally you could do it yourself, but I kind of jumped the gun and put on the armor first before installing the rifle. Damn it.

"Glad to see you’re getting over it, buddy." Typhoon commented with a smile as I donned the suit.

I silently thanked Typhoon for his support. The thought of my fear for this damn thing still hovered in the back of my mind though. As supportive as he was, I’m still not over it. You can’t cure phobias that easy. I turned my head and looked down at my helmet on the floor. Sooner or later I will have to put that thing on. It can wait. For now I’ll just carry it with me till the mission starts.

"Ready, Ward?" Typhoon asked as I finished moving in place. I turned my head to his direction and saw him at the door console with Loaded Gun and Fallstreak leaving the room. Their power armor suits were making hard, metallic clops against the equally metallic floor in their stride. He was staring at me through his orange visors as he waited on the other end of the door.

"Yeah." I answered firmly after cautiously picking up the helmet under my right foreleg. He himself turned tail, following Loaded Gun and Fallstreak's direction and I tried to keep up with my hobbling.

Back at the Hangar, we boarded the Vertibuck that waited for us. Ace, now sporting his own distinctive suit of Wonderbolt Power Armor, was waiting arrogantly at the ramp. All we did was walk past him, keeping eye contact away from him.

"Let's go, Pilots!" He commanded impatiently after we were all inside. Listening to him made me feel on edge, he is supposed to be professional but doesn't act like one.

Immediately after, the ramp slowly closed as the Vertibucks rotors hummed from the outside. Soon as the hum reached its peak, we all stumbled a bit with some of us almost falling over completely and losing my helmet. I almost lost my balance and fell on a Wonderbolt. Fuck me if I did.

“Don’t fucking crash yet, Pilot!” Ace’s voice thundered as he walked towards the cockpit. He then angrily banged the door. “Learn to fly, bitch!”

I want to give him a hoof sandwich. Right there. Right now. Unfortunately, Typhoon was there to prevent me from doing so, and told me to sit down next to him. I sighed with annoyance, and plopped my haunch down next to him, and positioned my helmet on the free seat to my right.

“Just relax, Avie!” I shouted towards the door. “Nothing to worry about! Just take it slow!”

Seemed like she might have heard me when the Vertibuck tilted forward, and it felt like we were now moving out. From here it was a long waiting game.

* * * * * *

It had been nearly an hour or so sitting in the faint lit passenger bay of the small aerial vehicle, and we still hadn’t arrived at our destination. The humming of the Vertibuck's blades stuck into our heads the longer our asses grew sore from sitting in the armor.

The Wonderbolts were sitting opposite to us, watching us like we were suspects of some type of crime. I recognized Ace as being the shortest of the four, his familiar brick-red coat clashing with the deep blue and gold lightning filigree of his Power Armor. His mouth twisted into a whimsical grin as his visors were fixed on me.

"You look so pathetic." He jeered idly. His posse seemed to chuckle at the thought of his remark. That brought back the fire building up in my chest, fueled by the urge to leave them for dead out here. It wouldn't seem like a bad idea; hell I think I would be doing the Enclave a favor by removing this cancerous filth before he makes a mockery of his comrades.

"Fuck off and die!" I chided, opening up a portion of my bottled emotions. Ace was unfazed, and before long his comrades began speaking up for him.

"Shut your trap." A calm, gruff voice came from the biggest Wonderbolt. Whether he was trying to make himself sound tough or that is how he actually sounds like, I'm not the slightest intimidated.

"The old 'sound-tougher' trick.” Why do some ponies have to act bigger than they actually are, "Can’t you do anything better?"

The large pony slammed his hoof into the side of the Vertibuck right by my head and almost hitting Typhoon. He leaned in till we were muzzle to muzzle. My eyes and his visor were near touching, and the clear respirator touched my bare muzzle as I heard his heavy breathing up close.

"You have some fucking nerve to be running your mouth to talk to The Prodigy like that." Oh, Ace really does have a title. I didn't expect anything less from him. I jammed a hoof right in between our muzzles and shoved him off.

"The Pre-War era use to have something called ‘breath mints.’ " I stated with cold sarcasm. " It smells like you really need them because your breath just eats right through that respirator."

The brute really didn't like my response and was very close to hoofing me square in the face until a sharp whistle stopped him. That sharp whistle came from Ace himself as both the brute and I looked over to him as he held a hoof up at head level. He beckoned the brute back to his seat, which like a pet the brute listened and made his way back. He sat down and let out a deep breath. Ace turned his attention back to me after checking on his pet...I mean friend.

"Don't waste your strength on the low-life, Doldrum." I overheard Ace console his friend. "He'll get his."

What the fuck is that suppose to mean? Thinking about it for a while had me convinced that he expects me to die out here. I could say the feeling is mutual; because of that, I am much more relaxed about the idea of him dying out there. I even doubt that his comrades would be able to save him if we came across a Hellhound out there, or better yet an Alicorn- or both. Any one of them sounds like a good idea; I am more than sure that Ace is thinking the same things now about me right now.

I felt the Vertibuck come to a subtle halt mid-flight. My stomach grew a pit; a fair warning of what comes next. I looked back down at my helmet, which eerily stared up at me from it’s angle.

I picked it up between my two hooves, engaged a small staring contest, before turning the eyes away from me and slowly slid it over my head. When it clicked, my heart stopped. I waited for those big red letters to come on. And I’m stuck in the world’s worst place for a calibration error to kill me now.

The helmets integrated HUD system flickered and lit up the darker areas of my vision. Compass was working, Ammo counter was alright, and no calibration error. Ok. I think I can relax for now.

The Power Armor's ear pieces powered up and caught me by surprise. All outside noises were drowned out by the sound of brief static. The sounds of wind and rubbing from other connected comms when the static cleared quickly told me that some had their end on high sensitivity.

"This is as far as we can get." Aviatrix's choppy voice informed us through the comm. " We’ll be waiting for you here. Just hail us for extraction if things get dicey."

"Thanks for the note, Avie," I replied for the group. I looked over to Typhoon who was ordering L.G. to stand guard for the pilots. I noticed Fallstreak tapping the metallic floor. His posture and nervous body language suggested anxiety. Looked- and oddly felt- like an itch you can't scratch. He's going through another cycle, hope this will take his mind off of the mares; at least I hope so.

"Move it!" Ace commanded us as his group left the Vertibuck into the haze. Spoke too soon.

"You heard him," Typhoon said as he walked ahead of Fallstreak and I. "Let's fly."

I nodded firmly as he turned his head forward and ran outside the Vertibuck. I kept up with him, keeping a fair distance between us as we jumped into the fray. A hard blast of rushing wind hit us as soon as we were out. Fucking sandstorm- can’t see a damn thing. Trying to get into the air was harder than expected, our wings caught the bursts and briefly sent us flying backward and practically tumbling before catching ourselves mid air. With enough effort, we pushed off and managed to catch up with Ace and his group. The comm began beeping again.

"The Engineering Division updated the map in the armor." I heard Ace's voice come through. "The location of the crash site should be within 3 clicks of our current location."

Speculating the fact, I toggled the map system onto my HUD, which brought up a map of the local region. Most of it just looked like a squarish display an encircling mountain range, and what appears to be the appearance of a vast amount of dunes. The 7 dots representing us, myself included, were approaching the marked location.

* * * * * *

The sand storm began to clear up along with our view. We were a decent height off the ground, and looking down I could see nothing but sand, sand, and more sand; followed with ruins...covered in sand. Everything is sand out here, but like most things, I'm not surprised. I guess when shit hit the fan it hit pretty damn hard to leave not even a rotting stump sticking out of the ground; that or the sand covered that too. I'm going with the latter.

"Captain...bzzzt... right…bzzzt... top of the signal." Typhoon notified Ace through the comm link, carefully tapping my helmet to till the signal cleared up. I hoped by my rushing hearts there was no calibration error. Last thing I want is to be crushed to death in my own suit out here.

Speaking of out here, a wave of uneasiness hit me out of the dark blue. I couldn't explain it, but the air felt heavy with almost like a dread, and just...wrong.

I beat my chest to fight the squeezing feeling and looked ahead of my flight path. Ace giving the signal to descend. We followed the new trajectory towards the surface- gliding instead of diving.

To the right of our slow descent was a faint pillar of smoke visible against the dark sky and surface, it was rising upward as a small steady stream, calmly collecting itself in the atmosphere. The trail itself was coming from the downed Vertibuck Diamond Dust mentioned from the briefing. Shit.

We touched the gritty sand and folded our wings, making haste to investigate the wreckage in search of any possible survivors. It was just over the large dune ahead of us.

“Hold up!” Ace commanded through the comms, bringing all of us to a halt. He turned around to all of us. “Somepony will scout it out from here.” His helmet focused on me, and I could see through his transparent respirator that he was grinning. “Trade, go scope it out.”

Fucking knew it. I mean, who else would he pick to possibly dive nose first into a trap just to save his own hide from an assailant? Wait...something was wrong. Going back at his words I realized he didn’t mention any other pegasus.

“Just me? By myself?” I asked flatly, then my tone went to simmer. “Are you sure the suit isn’t too tight around that already thick skull of yours, Ace?”

“Oh, so you think you got a better idea!?” He asked with sarcasm and hostility. His words were enough to start swaying my jaw. “Should I have Sky Breaker ready the brand for insubordination.” He stepped closer and closer until his helmet’s forehead aggressively met my own. His tone rose. “Be a good subordinate, and don’t question the Wonderbolt!”

Nothing in my view but orange lens’, the world's worst case of bad breath, and a hotheaded asshole behind a helmet. What can I really do? If I fight him, I get another talk from Diamond Dust; that’s if I don’t get left to die out here. Even if that doesn’t happen, then what? The logic is that I don’t want to know where all the branded ones go.

I headbutted him away and pushed past him. Good thing he had that helmet on, or I would’ve given him more than just a nosebleed. If this weren’t a scenario where I wouldn’t be in any real danger, his goons wouldn’t have just let me walk by them just now. Fuck them, too.

I flew up the dune and as close to it as possible. Reaching the top and over I touched the flat-most surface at the dunes base. Then there it was. Oh shit, what a mess.

The Vertibuck in front of me had its nose buried in the sand. Couldn’t see the canopy window for shit. The smoke we saw earlier came from the left rotor engine- the only rotor to still be attached to the damn thing as a matter of fact. It didn’t even look like a rotor. It was disfigured to the core. Talk about a bad landing.

I walked around the wreckage to take a look at the backside. A trail of wreckage led to the opened ramp behind it. The tail that snapped off divided the entrance into two, and bent the ramp far past its limit. The blackened sand told me it skid across the surface for a while until built up sand brought it to a halt. Cargo boxes, most opened and smashed, littered the sand like crumbs to the Vertibuck.

Insomnia came back like a wave. I could feel my cognitive thought dampen and my eyes threaten to close. Legs feeling numb. Fuck me if I fall asleep in this walking coffin.

Wait...something’s missing. Something important. What was I supposed t-

“Ward!”

My helmet comm squealed and shot me awake, shamefully sprained my neck from the involuntary reflex. “Ward, what’s going on over there?”

That was Typhoon’s voice hailing me. Or at least I think it is if the damn squealing wasn’t making my ears ring. I exclaimed in dissatisfaction as the thing tried to get his signal. Few sharp taps to the helmet cleared it up.

“You damn near deafened me!” I exclaimed angrily.

“What’s your status?”

I don’t know? Tired. Irritated. Chafing. What else!?...wait… My mind’s gears worked again. “Nothing here but scrap and a broken Vertibuck. Come on over.”

I bolted to my left and back the way I came. Wasn’t in any danger and just thought the burst of energy could at least help me make it through the rest of this mission. I stopped right by the busted rotar and watched the group descend from the dune with Ace leading. Soon as they touched down, Ace approached me.

“Report.” He demanded. A part of me wanted to jab at him by making him say please.

“Broken Vertibuck.”

“And the package?”

“There’s scrap metal and smashed boxes, everywhere. How am I supposed to know what it looks like!?” I snapped.

“If you had half a brain, you’d know what we’re here for. Idiot!” He quipped angrily. What? He turned to the group. “You all search for the package! Now!”

They saluted and got to work. Except for Typhoon and Fallstreak who came to me, and Ace who was now beside me.

“Any survivors, Ward?” Typhoon asked from beside Ace. That’s what I was missing. I tried jogging my memory from just moments ago. Scrap metal...blackened sand....cargo boxes…

“No.” I answered. “Now that I can think about it, I didn’t see any bodies when I checked this place.”

“So, the Storm-shitter can think.” Ace quipped with sarcasm. My hooves shifted in anger, about to charge. I saw him grin widely and Typhoon next to him shaking his head subtly.

“Sir!”

The firm cry broke my train of thought. It was one of the Wonderbolts. “No sign of the package or bodies.”

Ace just stood still while we all looked at him. He calmly walked over to the hull of the downed Vertibuck, and slammed the metal with frustration. “Damn it!” he angrily yelled.

Yeah any louder would be fine, Ace. It’s only our funeral.

Started wondering if Ace was going to throw a tantrum. Like everything in the world to him was in that package. We watched him as his head craned while his hoof is still planted into the hull.

“There are no bodies,” he said aloud. Wait, he does care about others? He dropped his hoof from the Vertibuck and took a deep breath. “Then that means somepony’s still out there with our package.” Spoke too soon.

I turned to look at the rest of us, wondering what they were all thinking behind their helmets. Next thing I know, one of the Wonderbolts pulls a hoof to their helmet. I started hearing something in my helmet. Why was the comm building static? It shrieked, and this time was enough for all of us to emit a pained shout.

“What’s going on!?” Ace yelled through the static and shrieks as it died down.

“What the hell was that!?” Fallstreak asked out loud. “Fuck, there’s a buzzing in my ear from that!”

There was a buzzing in my ear. It was itchy, but at least the damn static is over. Fuck this damn buzzing, it’s getting on my nerves.

“Helmet’s picked something up.” one of the Wonderbolts said suddenly. “ The signal’s clearing now...”

He was right. We began hearing something. It was a series of beeps and boops that looped, and was occasionally interrupted by some garbled gibberish:

Beepbeepbeep...boop boop boop...beepbeepbeep… boop boop boop...beepbeepbee- wrblzwrlz….hlpsrizrig…

“What’s that, Sarge?” Fallstreak asked.

“A distress signal,” Typhoon answered his question. His explanation seemed to catch Ace off guard.

“That’s impossible.” Ace objected. “We’re on a secure channel. No other knows it-”

“Survivors.” Typhoon said, cutting his disbelief. “ You said it yourself. If no other ponies knows about The Enclave’s channel, it’s the only answer.”

Ace stood there for a moment, his jaw visibly shifting side to side. “Huh. Good thinking, Storm-shitter.” Ace finally spoke. A compliment? That’s a first in a blue moon. Bitter-sweet, though. “Can we trace the signal?” He asked one of his own.

“I think so.” The same Wonderbolt from before responded. They held a hoof to one side of their now tilting head. “I think I got it. Northeast; some clicks that way.”

Ace looked to Typhoon, “You all stay here. Guard the wreckage while we chase the signal. The package’s got to be there if it means survivors.”

Guard this hunk of busted metal? I began building a feeling that something wasn’t making sense. Either that or it’s my dull senses waning on me. Can’t tell. “Don’t you think it’s better to stay together?” I asked with a yawn.

“He’s right,” Typhoon agreed. “Ace, if you think about it, your not only splitting numbers but everypony’s chance of survival.”

“Alright,” Ace gave in. Really? That easy? Ace turned to the big Wonderbolt that nearly took my head off on the way here. “Doldrum, you stay with them.” Ace turned his head our way.

“There. Survival problem solved.” Spoke too soon...again.

* * * * * *

Already nearly thirty minutes since the Wonderbolts left for the signal and still no sign of them. Odds are that they’re taking their sweet ass time out there with whatever precious cargo this Vertibuck was bringing. Either that or they’re in trouble. Would it be bad to think that it doesn’t sound too bad? I mean, it would mean one or more less assholes in the world and in Sanctuary.

“Hey Ward. You awake?”

There was the wake up call. I just realized I was nodding off, and damn me if I did while in this death trap of a suit.

“Still nothing.” I said with a yawn slurring my words. “Just a little drowsy. That’s all.”

Speaking of how long we’ve been out here, I’m genuinely surprised no hostile ponies are anywhere in sight. Not even on my Eyes Forward Sparkle (E.F.S.). Now that I think about it, the pillar of smoke should’ve been a beacon for any Raider gang out here. This is odd; not that it’s bad. Just odd.

“Just come on in, Ward.” Typhoon’s voice beckoned me from behind. “ Doldrum’s got it covered. Sit down. Take off your helmet, and eat something.”

Well, I guess something to bite wouldn’t hurt. Wait., back that last set of Typhoon’s word up...eat? As in, there’s food? Still not believing what I’m hearing I turned away from the dune’s horizon and into the wreck, passing by the Wonderbolt who gave a disgruntled mumble.

I half-jumped, half-glided over the broken ramp and into the small, angled, cargo bay. Crates of all shapes and sizes were disorderly piled up at the cockpit entrance, sand flooding what once was the entrance to it. I saw apples. Fresh apples inside one of the crates being snacked on by Fallstreak and Typhoon and illuminated by a lone helmet’s light sitting on another, near adjacent crate. They were outside their armor, the hollow bodies standing firmly to one side of the interior. Fallstreak happened to notice me and offered a small red apple as a welcome token.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

Fallstreak looked down at the apples angled on the flat surface of the crates and back up at me. “Apples.” He chuckled in disbelief. “What else would they be?”

“No, I mean- what?” I forgot how to process my thoughts for a moment. I know they were apples. I mentioned that they were apples. It’s just... “Eeh-how...are there apples here?”

Fallstreak stopped mid-munch and slowly looked down at the crate they were eating from. He looked back at me and shrugged. “A stockpile?”

I shook my head. “No. Look at them.” I took the apple. “Fresh apples.” I pointed a wing to the outside. “Out there? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Abandoned Stable,” Typhoon answered with a mouth full of apple. “probably lucky the Stable’s trees still had fresh apples. You know- garden systems.”

You know, that probably sounds right. Started to wonder if I’m really one to be saying yes to everything he says? No. I’m just tired. Don’t want to think. The apple does look good. A thought did come up and halt me from removing my helmet to eat the shining red beauty. “You don’t suppose we’re allowed to eat these.”

I saw Typhoon shrug, “Sanctuary won’t miss them. We’re only here for the package. Plus, the sandstorms might just bury these things. Waste not, want not and such.” He tapped his hoof beside him, “So come on. Take off your armor and relax a bit.”

I felt my brows arch under the helmet. Then I looked down at my apple and let the saliva pool under and around my tongue. I guess one wouldn’t hurt, it’s one excuse to get out of this deathtrap. I (fearfully) got out of my suit, leaving it next to theirs and the helmet beside it, then joined Fallstreak and Typhoon.

Red apples. Why are the green ones always the hardest ones to get? I prefer those over the common red ones. I took huge chunks out of the small red apple in my hoof. Juicy. Very, very juicy! I almost ate the whole thing, core and all. Realizing the meat on this one wasn’t enough, I tossed it aside and went for another.

Just as I picked out a moderately sized one from the diminishing crate pile, a loud thud caught us by surprise. I jumped and lost grip of the apple I picked out, Typhoon coughed, and Fallstreak exclaimed in fright. We jumped out of our seats and primed our energy weapons. For what we knew, it could’ve been a threat. It wasn’t. Just a brute with loud steps.

Doldrum stood there and stared at us like a statue. What was his deal? Then I saw there was something on his back that slumped like a rolled up bed sheet. He leaned to one side and whatever he was carrying hit the steel floor like a bag of rocks. I saw four legs pop out of the overcasted shadow. Then a pair of wings when one of us managed to get some light on it...him. Oh my fuck! A body.

“This one was outside.” Doldrum’s brutish voice projected. “From over the dunes.”

“A survivor?” Typhoon asked the brute.

He didn’t respond, and instead effortlessly shifted the body to us. With the light, we saw him wearing mustard Enclave light combat armor- what's left of it that is. This pony had it bad.

“Get him up.” Doldrum ordered us. “Bastard’s still breathing.”

“We’re soldiers. Not medics.” I told him. All he did was growl before walking away. “Good to know that you care enough about this bastard to not stick around. Huh?” I quipped, passive-aggressively. Earning a metallic, but hard, bump on the shoulder from Typhoon.

Right...

Typhoon brought his helmet closer to the downed stallion. His yellow fur and feathers are bruised up and dirty- probably from the crash. His armor was equally dirty and missing some pieces of itself- particularly his shoulder armor and a piece of his lower right chest. He was bleeding from a vertical gash wound (and dried blood in his cinnamon crew cut) from his forehead to the back of his head and a torn ear glistening red. There was something else on his person though. Some kind of odd glowing stains within the hard fabrics of his reinforced kevlar chest piece. Light plasma leakage, maybe?

“Great leaders, Shit!” Fallstreak exclaimed. “What the hell happened to him?”

I could feel the fear radiating off of him. I felt the same way, but kept my cool the best I could. One of us had to check if he was still alive. Out of all of us, Typhoon was the one to step up to the body. He got down on his knees after angling his helmet again and checked for a heartbeat. He pulled the body till he was on his back. He brought his ear close to his chest. The bodies two forelegs suddenly clamped Typhoon’s head.

Typhoon screamed and the body shot upright and screamed back at him. Their voices overlapped and would’ve gone on hadn’t I gotten over to help Typhoon.

Fallstreak started screaming too. “WhatthefuckwhatthefuckWHATTHEFUCK!” He babbled like a foal and bolted a few feet away from us.

“It wasn’t worth it! It wasn’t worth it! IT WASN’T FUCKING WORTH IT!” The stallion started yelling. Typhoon started to cry in pain. I think the hooves were starting to dig into Typhoon’s head.

“It will come for us! It will come for all of us! We’re doomed, you here! DO-”

I shut him up with a crack to the head. His eyes rolled back and he fell back with a bloody and broken nose. Typhoon let out a pained sigh and pulled his head off the stallion.

“Agh. The bastard broke the skin!” Typhoon painfully told me as I helped him up. He wasn’t kidding. Both sides of his forehead had an arched cut slowly letting down a veil of crimson against his blue. He tried to touch a cheek, but winced when he barely touched. “When was there ever a grip like that !? Fuck this coming headache, he almost broke something else!”

The pegasus must’ve eaten something fierce. He was talking crazy. That look in his eyes. He had to be on some kind of drug. I looked over to Fallstreak who was facing away from us, huddled next to the armors. Incoherent babbling seemed to fill the silence. He was talking to himself. Sniffling.

I walked over to talk to him. “Fallstreak,” I beckoned him. He didn’t answer. I stretched a hoof out to him. “Fallstreak. Talk to m-”

He swatted me hard, swept around and up; wings flared out in the small space he was in. “Don’t tell me to calm down!” He shouted in fear. “That pony was dead! Next thing you know he’s saying we’re doomed while he tries to pop Sarge’s head like a pimple!”

I raised a hoof in caution. “Fallstreak. Calm down.” I told him slowly. “ He wasn't dead. We already confirmed that. He’s...was in shock, or something. Take a breath, ok.”

He was sweating and breathing heavily, giving me a stressed look. Calm down, Fallstreak. After listening to me, he took a couple of deep breaths. “O-o-ok. You’re right, sir.” He took two more deep breaths. “I need some air.”

I gave him some room and made his exit, still breathing heavily. I also noticed Doldrum standing outside the ramp. Guess the scream attracted him.

“He...was awake!” I had to give him an explanation. “We managed to calm him down.” I looked back at the crazed Pegasus. He was breathing, but then I eyed his off center nose. Calmed him down. That’s one way of putting it.

The Wonderbolt left as soon as Fallstreak stepped outside. With them gone, I focused on Typhoon’s situation. He was still bleeding. I looked around at all the crates that were still unopened.

“If they were at a Stable...” I got to looking through each crate I could get open. Strange tech. Spare parts. Crystals. Food. Emergency water rations… “Where the fuck are the damn meds!?”

My luck turned when I found some hope. A small heavy duty briefcase with three pink butterflies. “Finally.” I sighed with relief before trying to get it open. When the two hinges clicked, I opened it to find...nothing. It’s empty.

“Fuck my life!”

I slammed the case shut and shoved it out of sight. What a way to get my hopes up and then crush them. You got me life. You’re so funny...and I use the term loosely.

My eyes shifted around my perimeter, then doubled back at something welded to the wall. I deserve a slap to the forehead for my obliviousness. The Emergency Survival Kit. Bound to have something to help Typhoon out. And maybe that nosebleeding psycho.

Getting up and angrily kicking away empty boxes. I reached out to open the kit. Then I sat down after touching it and pouted at the mound of sand next me. “Locked. Should’ve known.”

Wasn’t my fault they decided to lock these things. Who’s fault it really should be is the pegasus who thought it’d be fun to shoot up Med-x like it was a holiday. And to make matters worse, three of his friends overdosed. Fuck.

I knew I wouldn’t find a key in this mess, and I lack the patience to even try and find it. My brain hatched a solution to the issue. It started with me getting up, getting my armor on, priming my Novasurge and narrowing my eyes for a shot on the lock. Fire.

The crackling bolts of orange energy consecutively hit the lock; first dead on, then around it. Then they bounced off the small metal door and around the room with scorch marks pinpointing where they last hit. I kept my head down to avoid the flying discharge of death. My hairs kept standing up the louder I heard it zoom over me and making me wish I still had my helmet on.

“The hell!” Typhoon cursed from behind me. “Ward, what the fuck are you doing over there!?”

I heard the bolts dissipate one by one, not having enough time to answer Typhoon’s question. A sudden push on my right shoulder and a burning sensation on my right ear. The last bolt audibly cut out to signal it was safe to check the damage. My ear felt like it’d been lightly seared, but it was still all there despite being sensitive to the touch. Then I looked down at my pauldron. A sizeable burnt dent had been made in the armor. It didn’t pierce through, but feeling it out told me it would’ve if another hit in the exact spot. Fuck.

“Ward! What the hell!?”

I looked back at Typhoon while I was still belly flat on the floor. He was currently covering the unconscious pony with his own body. I flicked my head to the box on the wall. “Thought some meds could help you.”

Typhoon sighed. I couldn’t tell if it was because of what happened, or if it was because of how rash I acted. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll live.”

I nodded before looking back down at the dent I made. It wasn’t smoking anymore like it did before, but the damage was there. I cautiously dangled the leg respective to the dent. No complications. Good so far.

My ears twitched to the faint sound of static and jarble. Typhoon and I looked around, trying to hone in on it. They ended at our helmets. They were both picking up a signal. We exchanged glances briefly, then he got into his armor quickly and slipped it on. It clicked and hissed.

“Ace?” Typhoon said after he put a hoof to his helmet. “Captain. Is that you? Comeback.”

I watched with concern as Typhoon listened into the warbling mess of words. He looked up at me with his orange lenses and pointed insistently to my helmet. I autonomically complied and fumbled my helmet on both cautiously and as fast as I could.

“...got the package. *Bzzzt*... more of us *Bzzzt*...have a situation! *Bzzzt*” The signal cleared to a voice drowning in fear,“We are out of range! Get the pilot on your line! Now!”

That was Ace’s voice practically screaming into our ears. There were also small sounds of novasurge discharge and rushing air. Then there was screaming followed by a crescendo of faint moans. Ghouls? Fuck.

“Copy that!” Typhoon responded in panic. Then Ace’s Com broke, followed by new faint static. “ Singularity come in! This is Sergeant Typhoon! Requesting immediate extraction on our location, over!”

There was a static-like chirp, followed by Aviatrix’s voice. “Confirmed. Preparing for immediate extraction. ETA 10 minutes. Hold out till we get there.”

While the exchange of order and confirmation went on, I bolted outside to see where the Wonderbolts were coming from. Soon as I passed the ramp up ahead, I notice Fallstreak hunched over on a crate with his helmet in the sand.

“Fallstreak!” I called out as I made my way to him. Was he still getting over the fucking survivor? Or is he actually asleep? Soon as I got close enough I called his name one more time and he sprung up with a scared twitch.

“Get your shit on, we’re gonna have company!”

“Company, sir?” He was scared and confused.

“Extraction is coming in 10 minutes!” I pointed out to the dunes and he turned into the direction of my pointing hoof. “Wonderbolts found something! And they’ve got company!” I dropped my hoof and took one step closer to him. “Be ready for a fight. Don’t lose it now.”

His eyes widened in shock and realization as to what I meant when Doldrum to my southeast started discharging his weapon into the air. He sprung, and flew into the crash.

“Got movement! Northwest, over there!” He yelled out to us. Looking into the direction of the flying bolts of concentrated orange energy I saw- oh fuck.

My hud’s E.F.S. bagan detecting something. First, I was red little nicks coming from the northwest. Almost immediately after more nicks began to crop up on the bar. Almost until the whole bar in my lower left vision was filled with red in that direction.

I looked back up into the sky and then I saw them. Shadows zooming across the sky were coming towards us. And they being pursued by a flying horde of something. Could it be Winged Ghouls? Bloodwings? Maybe something else all together? Whatever they were, they were giving the Wonderbolts a fly for their bits.

“We’ve got hostiles coming in!” Ace’s voice panted in panic over the coms. “Give us some covering fire down there! Now!”

I looked back to find Typhoon already behind us having rushed out once the orders were given by Ace. “Roger that!” He replied as he stepped next to me. Soon as Fallstreak came out of the wreck he positioned himself next to Typhoon. He looked skyward towards the horde and shouted, “ Light up the sky!”

Without question, we aimed our respective Novasurge towards the black tailing cloud. Fire. Bolts of the same orange energy dispersed into the air like a fireshow into the cloud-like horde. Soon we were able to punch holes into that dark blanket.

Just when we thought that this was it, the very thought almost seemed to conjure another stampede of them; this time coming from the dunes ahead of us.

“Over the Dunes!” I called out in alarm. I got to work on trying to take down that group. Doldrum, Typhoon and Fallstreak caught onto my spot and proceeded to help melt down a portion of the stampede, but we weren’t able to stop a small few from getting too close.

Four of those things jumped me before I could do anything. Next thing I knew I was swarmed by all of them at once and both Typhoon and Fallstreak seemed torn between helping me out and keeping the stampede at bay. Doldrum just kept firing at the oncoming stampede and ignored my predicament.

The assaulters shrieked a ghostly cry and then began stomping my suit in. They were strong. Too strong. My suit isn’t able to take such a strong beating- it’s integrity was decreasing in large percentages.

...75%...

...53%...

...35%...

I tried to lessen it if I kept the one on top of me away with an extended foreleg. I still couldn’t move because of the others, and they were beating down on my belly.

Before the number got any lower, the Ghoul I was holding up melted into an orange blob that splashed all over my suit. Looking over I noticed the bolt came from Typhoon. Thanks to that I was able to slip out of their grip more easily.

“Trade you alright?!” Typhoon called out to me before a shriek pulled him to the stampede.

“I got these ones!” I yelled before thrusting my hoof into one of the lunging bastards that was still alive. He didn’t stagger and I instead used my wings to put distance between me and them.

Typhoon and Fallstreak seem to be keeping the horde at bay and there were these three that got through. I can’t let them get to both of them or who know what’ll happen. I know what I got to do.

I open fired on the three when they lunged at me simultaneously. Burns riddled their lanky, patchy, growth infested hides and they dropped dead. Didn’t know what was scarier: the fact that they just kept getting back up, or the fact that the burns would disappear nearly as fast as they appeared. Some didn’t even look like they had scratches on them. What the fuck? Baffled, I reloaded with a rear kick and tried again: same results. Son of a bitch!

The first one lunged at me and I ducked. Once he passed overhead I turned my rifle to the pony and shot him a couple of times. They have to die. Somehow. The second one caught me off guard and pounced. The first didn’t die and lunged for me again, successfully clamping onto me like an annoying foal. The third, however, got distracted by Fallstreak and went for him.

“Fallstreak, lookout!” I cried as the ones on top of me started to smash my helmet in. I couldn’t see it, but I heard Fallstreak scream and the sounds of struggle followed. “No!”

I couldn’t shake them off, and my tail’s blade wasn’t doing shit to them. Had to try something else. I reared up and fell on my back to use my armors suit to crush the one on my back and pin the other’s right foreleg under me. I heard the sickening pops and snaps of bones behind my head and back and rolled over on my right side to get up and crush the other.

Once back up I looked back on the damage to see them. They were still moving, but incapacitated with their limbs bent awkwardly and chests caved in. Fallstreaks cries for help caught my attention and I rushed over get the Ghouls off of him. I managed to get them off before one of them looked like they were about to bash his head in.

“ETA 5 minutes!” Aviatrix’s voice buzzed through my battered coms. Those words gave my some hope to rely on, but I knew we weren’t out of the woods yet.

“There’s too many, Sarge!” Fallstreak began to panic as he shot down another stampeder. “I’m running low on ammo!”

At this point, most of us already were. This was supposed to be an extraction mission and nothing more.

“We need to fly, Sarge!” Fallstreak yelled in a panic. “We’re dead meat on the ground!”

“Denied!” Typhoon yelled in objection, “We got a survivor back there and we won’t leave him to these things!”

Fallstreak is right. We’re much weaker on the ground. Pegasus combat utilizes wings for efficiency and we’re here battling like Earth Ponies. But I can’t leave Typhoon here if I were to take off. He’ll need me.

Looking up at the sky in between periods of refocusing and reloading I noticed the Wonderbolts doing whatever they could to keep themselves alive up there. Diving, looping, mid-air strafing. Everything they were doing was quick and efficient.

I was down to my last two cells. Adrenaline was shooting through me like a literal booster shot. My sleepiness was replaced by temporary alertness everytime they got too close. They were getting closer and closer to the point that those of us still on the ground began to do our own strafing runs. We didn’t start flying high, however; we had a survivor still in the downed Vertibuck. We can’t leave him to them.

Just when my last cell was loaded into my Novasurge, my ears picked up on the sound of chopper blades whipping the air from the south. Then there were some search lights coming from the sky, rushing towards us at high speeds.

Soon the sound of the whipping blades and searchlights were right on top of us now. The wind kicked up the sand around us as she suspended the Vertibuck mid-air. Then the Vertibuck’s weapons began to do some work from the front with a barrage of red streams firing in every angle it can. Did some work to incinerate all the hostiles it touched.

“We’ll make this a no landing extraction!” Aviatrix said over the coms. “Things are getting too hot!” Soon as she said that the flying ghouls started throwing themselves at the exterior of the hull. What the fuck?

Soon as it was said, I noticed a Wonderbolt charge into the wreck. I looked up at the light show and saw two pegasi idly waiting by the Vertibuck. They weren’t fighting, but just floating there. The muties didn’t even take time to notice them as they were busy trying to get Ace and Company.

“Then open the damn ramp, pilot!” Ace’s panting voice responded. “We’re not gonna last much longer out here!”

The Vertibuck swayed a moment then I saw the ramp slowly begin to lower.

“Let’s go! Now’s the time!” Typhoon yelled in a professional panic as he took to the sky. Fallstreak and I managed to escape the closing horde, and looking back to the wreck I noticed Doldrum tailing behind us with the survivor on his back.

The ramp was open and I could see Drift waiting for us. She was armed with an M.E.W. Model 7 Plasma Rifle and beckoning us.

“Come on!” I can hear her words blast through my helmet. She looked outward and started discharging her weapon, shooting slow moving green plasmid rounds into the air.

The Wonderbolts flew in, then those two ponies after they were being yelled at, then it was Typhoon; me following close behind; Fallstreak almost crashed in behind us; then the Wonderbolt and survivor with the help of suppressing fire. Everypony was in and the ramp was closing. Drift dropped her battle saddle and bolted for the cockpit.

“Punch it!” Ace yelled at the top of his lungs. Exhausted, weak, and out of ammo; all I wanted to do was lay where I fell in the Vertibuck and fall asleep. I needed it now.

We were safe. We made it. I couldn’t believe we made it. It felt good to get settled in, remove my helmet carelessly and feel the cool air greet my heating face.

I took a deep breath and looked to the Wonderbolt’s side of the Vertibuck. To the far left, two Wonderbolts were laying the survivor doldrum brought flat on the floor, and not too far from them I saw two pegasi in battered standard issue Power armor.

“Who are they?” I asked Typhoon on my right, flicking my head to them.

“More survivors.” Typhoon’s voice echoed. Is it normal for my vision to be tunneling after what just happened. “That’s what he meant by ‘more of us’ when his signal came through.”

“They sure are a lively bunch.” I remarked about the two. “I saw them just floating out there idly, not doing a simple thing. They could’ve helped.” I looked at one of them, “You could’ve helped us on the ground, couldn’t you?”

“Ever heard of Battle Fatigue?” One of the Wonderbolts asked me almost scornfully, “That’s what they had when we found them. We can’t blame them but at least they followed us. Should be lucky that those things didn’t go for them.”

Battle fatigue, huh? I guess that explains it. Battle fatigue...

I feel different now that things have settled. I feel numb. Everything that’s happened; the violence; the adrenaline; all of it left me feeling empty. I just stopped caring all of a sudden. The veterans usually say that the first mission is usually thrilling to an extent, and some enjoyed it; I, however, feel like I’m not those some. Felt like the part that makes you care was just gone in an instant. I can’t feel a damn thing. My eyes were heavy and my breathing steadied. I’m just gonna close my eyes. The sound around me is fading. I smile, knowing I’m finally getting my rest. What a nightmare. What a mission. Finally, a well-deserved nap.

Footnote: Level up!

Trait(s) added:

Stormtroop Impulse: Your Shock Trooper training plus your own recklessness is both a fearless and hazardous thing. Gain +10 Action Points during combat, but also suffer a 15% penalty to your overall Damage Threshold.

Chronic Insomniac: You’ve adjusted to your lack of sleep. Kind of. Gain +1 Luck for everyday you don’t sleep, but without a 2 hour nap you lose -1 to all other SPECIALs.

Perk added:

Adrenal Rush: The heat of battle pumps energy into your veins. You gain a 10% resistance to damage and +7 action points when in combat.