Fallout Equestria: Fireflies and Ire

I behold the broken world
A storm rides the sky
Pale explosions illuminates the time
The age of violence is upon us

• Pale Explosions, The Moth Gatherer

Amber turned onto the block of Bunny & Crown, a pair of sandwiches poking out of her little Ministry of Wartime Technology saddle-pack. It was sized appropriately to fit her new gun and a case of ammunition, but it wasn’t large enough to accommodate her lunch as well, so the two sandwiches poked out of the bag like the ends of baguettes.

The mocha-colored mare had resigned herself to not telling Bunny about her new pistol. She had never a gun nut, and just as much had never even fired a weapon before, but something told her it was going to be too hard to explain why she had a gun. She herself didn’t really know why she had gotten it, but with the way Bunny had been patronizing her lately whenever she started talking about stressful things, she didn’t want to sit thought any insinuations about what she might do with a gun.

“If she asks, I’ll just say it was a free promotion,” Amber huffed, moving down the hill at a half-trot while she rationalized to herself.

“They were handing out free saddle-packs and I grabbed one to hold my tools” That certainly would explain the existence of the bag. “But what if she sees the outline of it?”

Amber twisted her body around, trying to put different types of strain on the bag. She lifted her back hoof, arched her back, and stuck her torso out, leading with the saddle-pack, trying to see if the iconic shape of a pistol would dare to emboss itself from inside the bag. Fortunately for her, the pack was made with premium-enough leather that it did not show the shape of her gun or the complimentary box of ammo she had received from one of the vending machines. Another Ministry of Wartime Technology promotion, a free box of ammo for every new inductee. Amber didn’t even have to leave the grocery store either, the MWT vending machine was right next to the Sparkle-Cola machine next to the cart-corral right before the exit.

“But what if she sees the emblem? She’ll know I have a gun then!”

Somewhere in then back of Amber’s head, in the the sanest part of subconscious, something kept asking why she was feeling so guilty about having a gun anyway. It was her right as an Equestrian citizen after all, not that it mattered, and she had gotten it for free after all, why was she feeling so insecure about it? Amber couldn’t answer herself, not because she was out of reasons to justify the purchase to herself or her imagined accuser, but because a vehicle that was parked in front of her shop had stolen her attention.

It was a hulking mass of grey steel, as tall as the first story of her shop and as wide as the entire sidewalk. It had two large domed headlights, a little higher than the wheelbase, and a large metal grill that made the front of the vehicle look like an angry dragonfly. Higher up, set a little further into the vehicle, was a large picture-window of a windshield that wrapped around both sides. The body stretched far enough back that a third axel had to be installed either for overall stability, or more reasonably, to support the top-mounted tank barrel that sat on a swivel at the very top of the vehicle.

The letters EAF APC were painted on the side in bold white letters.

She knew by virtue of the light blue star painted below the letters that it was a vehicle belonging to the Equestrian Armed Forces, but she didn’t know what APC meant. Another unanswered question, because as she stepped in front of her shop’s windows, she saw two ponies in mechanical armor and full helmets talking to Bunny in the back of the storefront. Bunny had a look of consternation on her face and pointed towards the front of the shop at Amber, and both armored ponies turned to look at her.

“They’re here for you” Bunny answered the questioning look on Amber’s face as she stepped into the store. “Something about the vaults, but they won’t tell me anything else!”

“We’re soldiers from the Equestrian Armed Forces, Ma’am.” Came the muffled electronic voice of a stallion coming from a speaker somewhere on the soldier’s helmet. His gruff stallion voice sounded slightly far away, like the radio announcer on the old mare’s radio that was still playing softly on her workbench. Either Bunny had turned it down, or the output transformer was dying. “We’ve received orders to take you to Vault 54, immediately.”

Amber looked between both, not being able to see their eyes behind their visitors so she looked into the fish-eyed reflection of herself in each of their helmets, feeling a heat forming on the back of her neck.

“Immediately” the second soldier repeated with a mare’s voice, seeing the look of fear that was spreading across Amber’s Face.

“W-why do you have to take m-me to the vault?” Amber stammered softly.

“Time is a factor.” The mare amended sternly as they both started ushering Amber towards the front of the shop, the chocolate-mare dug her hooves into the floor.

“Wait… Stop!” Amber’s voice worked up into a worried shout as she tried in vain to resist being pushed, but she was simply too weak for the pneumatic power of the mechanical suits, and the soldiers pushed her effortlessly towards the door as if she were a shopping cart. “What’s going on?”

The radio answered for her.

“Followed by... yes, followed by flashes. Blinding green flashes. Sounds of explosions... We're trying to get confirmation, but we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations in Cloudsdale and Canterlot... W-We do have... We do have coming in… confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of Balefire detonation in Manhattan.”

Amber went limp. The radio began playing an evacuation notice as she was pushed outside by the female soldier and into the vehicle after twisting the handle on a side-panel door, and she was guided into the cargo compartment of the vehicle. The mare left Amber in the cargo-area and galloped up a three-stepped staircase into the open cockpit and began a complicated series of flipping dials and switches. the fusion engines underneath the cockpit whined as the vehicle started up and the stallion soldier entered the vehicle and closed the door. Amber caught the slightest glimpse of Bunny exiting the shop and frantically galloping to the left before the door fully closed.

The Stallion ascended the staircase and took his seat beside the mare and the vehicle lurched forward. Amber was thrown to off balance and fell backwards as the vehicle began acceleration at what felt to be incredible speeds. Amber got to her hooves, climbed the staircase, and grabbed onto the back of one of their seats to avoid falling back into the cargo space, and as she got eye-level with the windshields she could see the skyscrapers of Downtown Fillydelphia rapidly approaching.

“What happened in Manehattan?!” Amber shouted above the whine of the fusion engines that were now directly beneath her. The vibrations at her hooves exacerbated the growing adrenaline in the pit of her stomach. Her chest and hooves started to feel twitchy. She had started to sweat, and there was a tightness in her throat. The soldiers ignored her, sitting stolidly in their seats as the mare took a sharp turn into the city. She asked a second time, then a third time, and finally a fourth time before the mare politely asked her to stop so she could focus on her driving, And then the mare swore, slamming on the brakes, and throwing amber forward into a control panel that stood between the driver and passenger seats.

“Fuckin ponies are already in the street!” The mare shouted as she hooked the vehicle onto the sidewalk, jolting the vehicle again. As amber got back to her hooves, she indeed saw a crowd of ponies and the beginning signs of a mass-panic through the windshield.

Pedestrian ponies galloped into the street with no regard for oncoming traffic, others ran from the streets onto the sidewalks in aimless panic and the mare swore every time she swerved to avoid hitting one. Amber saw ponies abandon their taxis and vehicles, even saw a mother mare abandon a clearly occupied stroller, and they ran into buildings or disappeared into alleys as the tank sped past. Flits of green and yellow crowded the navigation bar in Amber’s vision as the chaos was slowly starting to ripple through the city like a hive response.

Amber wanted to say something, maybe dumbly ask about Manhattan again, but she couldn’t find her voice. Her throat was too dry. Instead, she watched a stallion shove an elderly pony as he ran into a crosswalk. Saw a group of three mares struggling to all squeeze through the single door of a Hooficure Spa at the same time. She also saw ponies standing still, staring blankly, like her, at the unfolding chaos. Numb. Unable to react.

A flash of green stole amber’s eye as the vehicle turned and she looked up at the visor of switches above the mare soldier.

New Location discovered: Fillydelphia North Suburbs

The vehicle flew past rows and rows of equally proportioned houses and a thankfully empty street. The only ponies they passed were a dotting of frightened residents running from their grassy yards into their houses, presumably into their basement shelters. The suburban street they were on was one of the flattest in the north suburbs so the APC covered a surprising amount of ground as it screamed down the road, and before the previous notice could even have a chance to disappear, another popped up right underneath it.

New Location discovered: Vault 54

Amber’s stomach sank. She couldn’t believe it. She was being taken to her vault. That is what they told her they were doing after all, but that was less than five minutes ago, and with all honesty Amber’s brain was still trying to process what APC meant. As the tank started up a small hill Amber tried hopelessly to ask one more time what happened to Manehattan, but she saw for herself as the vehicle crested the top and line of green flames and a large green and black cloud of smoke came into view from across the bay. The Manehattan skyline was in flames.

“No” amber said softly, imperceptible above the straining whine of the fusion engines and vibration of the mare’s off-road driving as they hopped over a sidewalk curb and through the open hoardings of a construction site set into an exceptionally large hill. They drove past scattered machinery and variously related construction equipment and parked in front of what looked to be the entrance to a mineshaft, and the stallion got up and guided Amber outside.

“Shit.” The stallion swore through his helmet as he did a quick scan of his head. “We must be the first ones to show up. The staff vehicles aren’t even here yet.” The stallion looked up at his partner who was looking back down at him, Their faces remained invisible, but she was surely looking at him with impatience.

“We have other residents we need to assemble, Ms. Crown.” He dashed back to the open door of the APC. He motioned to the mine-entrance behind her. “Go through that door” he instructed. “Step inside the big gear-door and wait for the staff to arrive. They should be here any minute.” And the mare hooked the tank into reverse before the stallion could close the door and sped down the hill back towards the suburbs.

Wh.. wh.. what the fuck!” Amber shouted.

The APC was swallowed up by a cloud of light-brown dust it had whipped up as it sped through the empty construction site. Amber looked around frantically. She watched as a trailing line of burning rocket fire sliced through the sunny cloudless sky over the bay and several pale explosions flashed along the burning Manehattan Skyline. The shockwave reached the vault quicker than Amber could react to it and the pressure waves knocked her backwards. She scrambled through the mineshaft entrance and into a machine-dug cave, her ears ringing from the blasts as she ran over boards placed over the rocky floor. She followed a line of work-lights, generators, ladders, and various work-equipment into an inner-chamber with a flat solid-steel wall and a reticulated gear-shaped opening in the center; the door of the vault wide open, waiting for her.

With little time to think Amber galloped, almost automatically, up the scaffolding, across a metal walkway hugging the wall, and up to the giant steel threshold of the gear-shaped door. She threw herself over the metal sill, ran across a metal catwalk, and into a large metal room. She had time to look around maybe once before she heard some kind loud rumbling coming from somewhere outside the cave, followed shortly by a huge explosion that shook the entire vault and sent a blast-back of dust into the chamber.

“Unusual seismic and radiological levels detected, emergency closure protocol activated,”

a robotic mare’s-voice called over an intercom system, immediately followed by the blaring of emergency sirens and the flash of strobing lights. A metal arm extended down from a depression in the ceiling and extended a large drill bit into the gear door. The contraption slid sideways, rotating the gear across a track on the ground and pushed the door into the matching gear-shaped depression. The entire room vibrated violently as the door slid closed, the spelling whine of metal-on-metal stinging Ambers ears.

Amber, unable to move her hooves as the violent tremor ripped its way through the vault, dove under a nearby maintenance table and threw her hooves over the back of her head, ducking and covering like she was so routinely programmed to do as a school-filly in preparation for this very event. She closed her eyes, grit her teeth, and prayed that the metal maintenance table above her would be study enough should the vault decide to collapse.

Seconds passed.

The mechanical arm retreated up to the ceiling. The vibrations all but ceased save for a few tiny aftershocks and the sirens stopped their blaring. Amber looked up, not knowing if it was safe or not yet; There wasn’t a teacher to tell the class when the drill was over this time. When the strobing lights finally stopped, Amber took that as her cue and crawled out from under the table. A tepid silence had filled the vault.

There air put a strange pressure on Amber’s face. Her body felt light and heavy at the same time. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. The vault groaned as the hill settled. She looked left and saw the windows of the maintenance hut. Looked right and saw the metal catwalk. Up, the mechanical drill on the ceiling. She was the only pony in the vault, and she simply stood there, dissociating.

Grey. The walls were grey. The ceiling was grey. The pipes and cables coming out of the floor were grey.

Amber was grey too.

Her body was grey, her horseshoes were grey. Her mind was grey.

She felt nothing and stared out at nothing, like a rabbit in a field. Only the hot grey buzz of her empty mind, her internal monologue gone silent.

She stood on all four hooves, swaying gently as her eyes registered that she was looking at the number on the vault door.

54

Her eyes traced the ridges in the number. The steel was darker inside. Set in a circle of yellow steel. Painted, and she could smell the paint. Not the paint on the door, the memory of paint. She blinked.

She looked at something else. A cube. With flanged sides. Resting on one side, was another cube, tossed aloft. She looked at the back wall, a line of rectangles. The floor was made of squares as well.

Power. the first word to come back into Amber’s mind.

Shattered stereoscope. Dream. Crushed dream. Too much power, alternate current right. Direct Current Wrong. Shining. Overturned. Explosion. Crown. Staring. Giggling.

Amber blinked again. She was looking at the computers in the maintenance hut.

Sewage. Leverage. Gasses. Oil pressure nominal. service parts. Message. Mainframes. Fuselage. Cannisters. Leaking containers. Storage reserves low.

Scraps of long forgotten terminal entries sprang forth in her mind.

She looked at a toolbox on a table. Saw the handle, the hinges, the screws in the steel. A tool bag lay across the table, and she could feel a familiar heaviness.

Her back felt heavy, like the elastic tension of the last ten years finally snapped. stretched too far.

She looked over her shoulder, instead of her tool bag there was black leather pouch hanging off her right flank.

Don’t tell Bunny.

If she asks… say it was a free promotion

Something about the vaults, but they won’t tell me anything else

Her neck twitched. Somewhere a fluorescent light was buzzing.

She looked back at the terminals in the maintenance hut and mental images began to flashback into her mind.

Bus seats. A Big Book of Science. South Fillydelphia boulevard. The East Equestrian Highway. The Gates of CIT. A box full of circuit boards. A table full of wires, sprockets, and flywheels. Schematics. Bottles of turpentine.

Seemingly random images from her past flashed through her mind, accompanied with seemingly un-associated words arising in tandem.

Hallways. Classrooms. Robots and half-built terminals.

Broken differentiator circuit

Gymnasium. Ponies. Lab-coats. Protectrons in various stages of assembly.

Ignition control unit missing.

Magnetic pickup assembly, improperly aligned

A large LED wall timer. Less than a half hour remains.

A familiar hot flash surfaced in Amber’s back.

Rushing. Skipping steps. Errors on the terminal. Other Protectrons already walking. Feeling trapped, claustrophobic. Breathing fast.

Mal-aligned gyroscopes.

Shorted electronic ignition system.

Un-calibrated Pulse modulators.

The memory fully crystallized out of the dark recesses of Amber’s subconscious. She saw her Protectron in the gymnasium of CIT, it’s back panel open and several wires running like wild snakes out of the back into a terminal on the table. Several errors were reported on the screen of her diagnostic program but as she looked up, she had less than five minutes left to activate the Protectron and complete her entrance exam. Other ponies had already finished and were sitting in the bleachers, watching her. She felt self-conscious and panicky. The administrators and exam proctors were looking at her, expectantly. She swallowed hard. She was out of time. She bit her lip, disconnected the robot from the cables and wires except for the ignition feed; and pressed enter on the terminal.

The bootloader on the terminal ran, reporting more errors than passed checks. She watched the robot take a few steps, her heart fluttered, but then the robot started walking diagonally. The gyroscopes weren’t aligned properly, and the robot was leaning heavily to one side. The robot collapsed, kicked around, started shining like the sun, and exploded. Raining debris and motel slag across the entire auditorium. A mare closest to the explosion’s lab coat was covered in blood. Amber was ushered out by security.

Amber blinked the memory back into her subconscious and looked around, her eyes landing on the vault control mechanism, and glided over to it like a ghost.

The vault door was closed. It was open when she came in with the rest of her class.

There was a flashing terminal screen on the door control panel.

“Emergency closure protocols activated” the screen blinked its message. “please attach Pipbuck to begin override sequence”

Amber looked down at the device on her hoof, another flood of crystalline memories rushed back to the front of her mind.

A radio being repaired. A pair of unicorn gloves. A mess of wires. Bunny in her workshop. Amber slapping her. Walking downtown. A wall of posters.

The memories came flooding back faster and faster as the parts of her brain that handles short-term memory re-activated.

The Ministry surplus store. A free gun and saddle-pack. Walking back along the Celestia Sea Boardwalk. Then she remembered turning on her block, seeing the APC, and the soldiers who abducted her. Bunny running away. Ponies in streets. A city burning. Explosions…

Something stirred inside Amber, but she couldn’t understand what it was. A yearning. Some kind of longing. An emptiness in her chest and an ache in her heart. A queasiness in her stomach. She stared hard at the blinking screen and struggled to parse her thoughts to understand what she was feeling, but a block of text appearing in her vision explained it for her:

Quest added: Find Bunny

She looked down at the device on her hoof, struggling to see it clearly through the tears that had suddenly formed and were streaming down her muzzle. She fumbled with the Pipbuck, not knowing how to even attach it to the door control panel, and in a fit of aggravation whacked it against the panel, chipping the Pipbuck’s glass and dislodged a plug on a wire that hung from the back of the gauntlet.

She plugged the Pipbuck into the panel and pulled the switch…

Nothing happened. She looked down at the screen

Attention! Unknown signal detected…

Decoding…

Signal decoded…

Pipbuck signature identified…

Hello User Undefined…

Connection established…

Initializing system. …

The screen showed a stable-tec logo which was soon replaced by another message:

high levels of radiation detected; anti-radiation suit required for door opening.

“Fuckin, come on!” she pleaded desperately with the machine. Looking around frantically, she saw through that haze of her own tears a row of lockers on a lower level. She hurried down a metal ladder and began digging through the personal affects of staff ponies who were never showing up. Fortunately for her, each locker had its own radiation suit. She found one in her size, stepped her hooves into the stiff yellow rubber. Fumbling with the belt on her saddle-pack attempting to reattach it once she had the suit on proper.

She stuck her head inside of the domed helmet and zipped up the suit. The material pulled at the hairs of her underbelly and felt clammy against her body. She inhaled, her breath filtering through canisters attached the back of her suit and snaking through black corrugated tubes into the sides of the helmet. She winced as the strong smells of rubber, chemical sealants, and carbon filled her nose, and she lumbered up the stairs. Trotting uncomfortably in the bulky stiff suit back over the door control panel.

Radiation suit detected, opening sequence authorized. Recommended exposure time: fourteen minutes.

Amber pulled the switch, wincing as the sirens began to scream again and the mechanical arm began to swing down to open the vault door.

Footnote:

Warning: Your Pipbuck had detected heightened levels of Cortisol and, prolonged exposures to stress hormones can lead to a psychotic break. Limited exposure to stressful situations is highly recommended.