Fallout Equestria: Mothership Eta

I wasn't sure how to describe what I was feeling at the moment. "Confused" was far too tame a word to describe the levels of what-the-fuckery I had just experienced. But there was also the indignation of being the subject of an experiment. And the satisfaction of guessing right about being experimented upon. Add to that my lingering relief and determination: from seeing Dewdrop alive, and from resolving to find out what the physicists were up to. It was amazing that I could condense all these disparate emotions into one simple word.

"Guh?"

Dew was more verbose in her reaction. “I’m sorry, did you say horror? Aren’t you supposed to be physicists?”

Alan actually laughed at that. “Wow, they’re still saying we’re physicists? We’ve been correcting them for years! Decades, even! Although I guess that’s to be expected, Cloppers always have had their heads up their own asses. ‘Saving ponies is far more important than whatever nonsense you other factions have cooked up!’ You know, ninety percent of them can’t even be bothered to learn Ponish! Such a joke.”

“Okay, you’re not physicists. Then what are you, and how does horror tie into... whatever that was?” It was a good thing Dew was feeling up to leading the conversation, I was still trying to process the events of the last few minutes.

Alan beckoned to us. “Walk and talk. Come on, Rusty, pick your jaw off the floor. I promise it’ll make sense.”

I still couldn’t respond. Dew had to prod me into retrieving my pistol and following Alan as he led us further into the physicists’... wait, no… horror block territory. I suppose it was aptly named. The decor was a far cry from anything I had seen previously on this ship. Instead of sterile white, or even the deep maroons of the Clopper turf, everything here was just dark. The floor consisted of black tile and the deepest brown wood I had ever seen. The wood continued to parts of the walls, broken up by more blacks, browns, and intense reds. The only light came from candles -- fake candles; flames must not have been allowed for some reason -- attached to the walls and suspended from the ceilings. They were reflected by polished brass ornaments decorating the walls. It was a somber environment, but a huge step up from the decayed, blood-stained room I had left only a few minutes prior.

And, I noticed, it was pretty hard to make out Alan’s form. His dark skin and curly, pitch-black mane blended perfectly with the background. If he hadn’t been moving, I would have no idea he was there!

“Back when our faction was formed,” Alan told us, “we were indeed physicists. But we discovered that our ancestors already had a complete understanding of the subject. Once we dug up their pre-rending records, there wasn’t much left for us to do!”

“Rending?”Dew interrupted. “You’ll have to explain that one to us.”

My mind had recovered to the point where I was able to join the conversation. “Actually, Dew, I got the story of that earlier.”

“Really?” Alan turned around, fixing me with his bright eyes, the most visible part of him. “I’d be interested in hearing your version. From the Cloppers, I assume?” When I nodded in reply, he continued. “This ought to be good. I can’t wait to hear how they messed up our history!”

“You seem awfully fascinated with the Cloppers,” Dew stated bluntly.

“Hey, we’re researchers! Learning is what we do! Plus, there’s the added bonus of getting to see exactly how stupid our rivals are!”

It was funny, I didn’t remember any of the factions back in the wasteland being this… petty, I suppose. Different merc groups always had a grudging respect for each other. They didn’t just dismiss their rivals out of hoof. It must be a human thing.

“All right, but keep in mind, I wasn’t paying too close attention when I heard this." I caught a glimpse of Dew rolling her eyes at that statement; I guess she had picked up on my tendency to ignore shit I didn't care about. At least Alan looked invested in my story. "The rending is what caused all the human factions to form. Before, you humans were all one big happy family, and after, you all hated each other. There was some garbage about fighting over territory, and eventually everyhuman agreed to stay out of each other’s way. Oh yeah, and everything before the rending is a big mystery.”

"Hmm…" Alan looked thoughtful. "Accurate enough, but unsurprisingly incomplete. Are you saying they really don’t know anything pre-rending?"

I had to think for a bit. “She did say something about recordings of ponies from before, but that was about it. Didn’t sound like there was any of their own history that survived.”

"Ha! I knew it!" Alan's already wide grin spread even further. "They have no clue what humans are even doing here! Man, I bet they think this ship has always been here! That’s such a Clopper thing to say: ‘We’re all that exists of our species, we must protect our own future, just like we protect the poor ponies!’ Thanks, Rusty, that was exactly what I needed to hear."

“Getting back on track,” Dew cut in, “weren’t you telling us what you are, not laughing at other humans?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Alan replied, with a grin still spread across his face. “It’s just so entertaining to hear how ignorant the other factions are.

“Like I was saying, we found out that studying physics was pointless, since we already had all the answers. But there was something else that we could study: magic! For reference, only a very small number of humans -- Empathetics -- possess magic. And that magic only lets them sense emotions, nothing else. But in Equestria, every single intelligent being has access to magic that completely outshines anything a human can do! We’ve been studying the magic of Equestria for as long as our records show! And there’s still so much to learn! It’s certainly a step up from studying physics, I’ll tell you that.”

“All right, you study magic.” Dew definitely didn’t share Alan’s enthusiasm for the subject. “What’s the deal with the horror?”

“Right, the horror. It’s something that grew out of our studies. It turns out that measuring magic is a lot easier in dim light. Something about bright light being picked up by our instruments, we’re still not sure of the exact reason. And if the labs are dark, it makes sense to keep the rest of the place dark too. Easier on the eyes. I guess someone a while ago decided if we were going to be in the dark all the time, we might as well make it spooky. It must have taken off, the entire Tragician sector is decorated like this!”

“I’m sorry, did you say Tragician?” Dew looked skeptical. I had to agree, it was one of the dumbest names I had ever heard.

“A portmanteau of tragic and magician. Trust me, it works," he added after noticing our incredulous expressions. "Anyway," he continued, barely pausing for breath, "there’s also a theory that the horror comes from ancient human history, when a ton of our scary stories involved magic in some way. I don’t really believe that one, the light sensitivity makes so much more sense. Oh wait, hold on.” Alan came to a stop in front of an archway, motioning that we should do the same.

“Brian!” he yelled. “You better not have the screaming skull turned back on!”

From the darkness ahead came a muffled voice in response. “Come on, Alan, you know jumpscares are my thing!”

“They’re lazy, that’s what they are! Turn it off, I’ve got a couple new guests with me!”

“Only for you, Alan. You newbies are lucky he’s with you!”

“Okay, we’re clear,” Alan told us as he stepped through the arch. “There’s a few Tragicians that think jumpscares are the epitome of horror. They’re so low-effort. Existential dread is where the fun really is!”

“AAAIIIEEE!!” A massive glowing equine skull appeared right in front of us just as the hallway was plunged into darkness!

“AAAIIIEEE!” I jumped backwards, screaming as I scrambled to keep my hooves under me.

“AAAIIIEEE!” Dew's reaction was presumably the same as mine.

“Dammit, Brian!” Alan sounded unimpressed.

“They’re my thing, Alan!”

“So low-effort.” Alan shook his head as the lights came back on.

“Is this something we’ll have to deal with whenever we want to go somewhere?” Dew asked.

“Yeah… you get used to it after a while. Sorry, I forgot Brian had dibs on this hallway.”

"Ugh," Dew sighed in exasperation. "Rusty, I’m starting to think every single human is insane!”

No kidding.

“I'm sure you're wondering what exactly happened to you back at the entrance,” Alan said as he led us into a room filled with monitors and terminals. "This is my favorite part of orientation: showing off our magic! You won’t believe some of the tricks we've got!"

Alan’s flippant attitude toward our earlier ordeal was irritating, but it wasn’t pissing me off nearly as much as I would have expected. I guess I had finally gotten over the shock of Dew’s apparent death and subsequent resurrection. Or his enthusiasm was just that infectious. Whatever the cause, I was willing to go along with his spiel. Dew’s assumption of species-wide insanity certainly seemed valid, but annoying horror-obsessed aliens were a huge improvement over the gore- and rape-obsessed factions we had encountered previously. I’d choose annoyed over assaulted any day.

"I'm particularly proud of the anti-magic field." Alan had continued his speech while I was having my internal monologue. I seriously doubted I had missed anything important. "You see, right here," he said, indicating one of the glowing screens, "we were able to cast a dampening spell tailored specifically to you, Dew. And this was after only a few seconds observing your light spell. Up until a few months ago, it would have taken minutes! Huge breakthrough, we had a massive Creepy Crêpe party to celebrate!"

I noticed Dew's eyes had glazed over as Alan turned his attention to me. "Now, Rusty, there was a lot more going on for you. Everything you experienced after Dew lost her magic? Great big illusion spell. Dew's body, the blood room, the endless darkness? None of it was real. Except the recording, that was from our first post-megaspell partner."

"I'm glad you're so entertained by my ordeal," I responded flippantly. As I scanned the screens in front of me, I was able to make out several showing an outline of an earth pony: carefully stepping over nothing, shooting nothing, all while indecipherable script flowed over everything. I checked my hoof terminal. It must have given up trying to translate the massive amounts of text before me. I honestly couldn't blame it.

"Hey, it's important to enjoy what you do. And it's honestly amazing what we're able to accomplish as a species with no natural magic. Real-time feedback and correction each time you fired your pistol? And let's not even get started on simulating a pistol we'd never seen before! I'm getting chills just thinking about it!"

"Hold on," Dew cut in. "What do you mean you've never seen these pistols before? We bucking got them from you!"

"Really? Let me take a look," Alan said, grabbing my pistol from its holster before I could react. "You're right, it definitely looks like one of the Guros', except for the missing trigger guard. Your work, I assume?" he asked, looking over at me, and ignoring the icy glare I was shooting back at him. Oblivious motherfucker... Well, might as well play along. I nodded, and he continued, "But the internals are way different! Let me pull up the model." His fingers -- one of the bits of human anatomy Ema had identified for me -- danced over the controls. “Yeah, the concentrator unit is completely different. Looks way more efficient. And… are those superconducting wires? With no coolant? How the fuck did they thermally stabilize them? Your pistol is unbelievable!”

His attention focused elsewhere, I took the opportunity to pull the pistol out of his pocket and store it back in my barding. "That’s right," I responded to his questioning look, "my pistol."

“Oh, right. Sorry, Rusty. I got a little excited.” At least he looked slightly sheepish about it. “I should get back to the explanation; we’re almost at the best part!

"Now, if you take a look over here," he said as he pointed to another seemingly identical screen, "this is where we activated the time spell. Super complicated, takes a ton of energy, but totally worth it! We try to use it any time there's more than one subject going through the test. The reactions are amazing: 'Am I right? Are you right? Is anything even real? Am I real?' Existential horror is the best!

“But that’s only half of it. Sure, making it seem like your companion somehow lost an hour or two is plenty spooky on its own, but to really sell it, we mess with spatial reasoning too. And that’s where the teleport spell comes in! You see, we just…”

“Wait just a damn minute!” Dew’s irritated voice interrupted whatever Alan was trying to say. “You can teleport? Why didn’t that show up when we did the bucking map search?”

That was what Dew was pissed about? That the map was wrong?

“Oh, it wouldn’t appear on the map,” Alan replied. “All our magic is cast from a general-purpose chamber. We don’t have a specific ‘hall of teleportation’ or anything like that.”

“You’re telling me we could have teleported off this ship all this time?!”

Ah. Okay, now I see why she was mad.

The fact that Alan was chuckling at her question certainly wasn’t helping matters. “Not off the ship, heavens no! If we could do that, we would have left ages ago! No, the power requirements are far more than what we’re allowed. With the squares of the distance and mass… We’d need to run four ships’ worth of output through the chamber to even get a single one of us to Mount Everhoof!”

“Mass squared…” Dew looked suddenly contemplative. “Then how much power would you need to get a pony to, say, the cloud layer?”

“...Teleport… a pony? Less mass, less volume…” Alan’s eyes shot open wider than I thought was humanly possible. “You two stay here! I need to run this past the Estro!” He shot out of the room, leaving Dew and me blinking at his sudden departure.

Dew spoke first. “Huh. I guess that means there’s a chance.”

I sprang to Dew’s side and wrapped her in a hug. “I love smart ponies! I can’t believe it, I -- we -- might be able to get back home!”

“A little too intense there, Rusty.” Oops. I backed off. “And I’m curious, why are you so excited to go back to the wasteland? I’ll be happy to see the Enclave again, but everything you told me about where you lived was terrible! I’d think you’d want to stay here!”

“That’s a fair point, Dew, but you’re forgetting one thing. Wealth is everything in the wasteland. Just one of these batteries I’m carrying, I could probably sell it for a lifetime’s worth of caps! With the weapons, I could buy my way into Tenpony Tower! And once I’m there, I’m set for life! No raiders, no slavers, just luxury. You bet your ass I’m itching to go back!”

“Fair enough, I guess. I was going to offer to bring you to the Enclave, but everypony there is convinced that mud pony equals cannibal. And I don’t think they’d be as willing to give you a chance as I was. You’d have to hide, but spending the rest of your life tucked away in a barn wouldn’t be much fun either.”

“Nope. But speaking of fun…” I pulled the cable out of my hoof device and connected it to the access port of the nearest terminal.

“Really, Rusty?" Dew sounded more disappointed than anything. "I’d rather not antagonize the Tragicians if they’re the only ones who can get us out of here.”

“Hey, like that human said, this is my thing!”

Pretty average password, nothing too exciting on the first few pages. It looked like this terminal contained mostly technical reports. I related as much to Dew.

"As long as you’re in there," she responded, "see if you can get it to show just recordings. See if the ancient history the Cloppers were talking about is down here too."

Not a bad idea. “Looks like I can,” I said, as I concentrated on my hoof. As the translation scrolled onto my screen, I heard Dew gasp. “Dew, what’s going on?” I looked over to her; she appeared transfixed on the screen above.

“Rusty… look at the monitor…” she whispered.

I turned to see what had her so captivated, only to let out a gasp of my own. Nestled above all the cryptic symbols, the top entry was written in plain Ponish: For Rusty and Dewdrop: PLAY THIS FIRST!

“What the fuck?”

“My thoughts exactly, Rusty.”

My hoof hovered over the key that would activate the message, but I wasn't ready to press it, not yet. We were still trying to figure out just what the fuck was going on.

“I don’t know, Dew. I’m morbidly curious, but they had to know this was here, right? What are the chances they’d bring us to this room, and then leave us alone with a terminal that just happens to contain a message to us?”

“But if that’s true, that means they’d be expecting you to hack in and find the message, right?”

“Not necessarily, Alan could have been planning to show it to us when he was done explaining all that other crap.”

“But something this big? You saw how excited he was about existential horror! There’s no way he’d risk missing out on our reaction here!”

“...That’s actually a really good point. Let me think… If he knew it was here, he’d have to be watching remotely, and if he’s watching remotely, he’s already seen me hacking, which means we’d be in trouble regardless.”

“You’d be in trouble. I’m just an innocent bystander!” Her grin let me know she was joking, but if she was serious about shoving all the blame onto me… well, I’d probably deserve it, wouldn’t I.

“All right, Dew. I say we hit play and damn the consequences. You with me?” She gave an eager nod. “Okay, let’s do it!”

An eager, high-pitched voice filled the room immediately after I depressed the key.

Hi Dusty! Hi Raindrop! I’m glad I finally get to talk to you, it was soooooo boring waiting for you to press play! You don’t need to worry, Alan won’t be back until we’re done!

I hit the key again. “What the fuck? This is a recording, how would she know what we were just doing?”

“Seems pretty obvious to me, Rusty. It’s not a recording.”

“Really? Then why isn’t she talking now that I paused it?” I shouted to the walls: “Hello? Pony? Are you there?”

“Because it’s a mute button, not a pause button?”

"...You’ve got a point." Had I mentioned how much I love smart ponies? "Let’s see here…" I could think of one way to check: I tapped the button as fast as my hoof would allow.

He… ee… ee… ey… St… oo… oo… op… pp…

“Sure sounds like a pause button to me.” I hit it again.

pausing! It’s really messing with my Pinkie Sense!

“Pinkie Sense?” Dew and I shouted simultaneously.

I guess technically it’s not my Pinkie Sense, it’s original Pinkie’s Pinkie Sense. But since I’m her duplicate, I guess it’s my Pinkie Sense now too!

“Wait,” Dew said, her voice and face both exuding massive amounts of confusion. “Did you just respond to us? Through a recording?”

Of course, sillies! That’s how Pinkie Sense works! Well, super-duper-looper-Mint-al-enhanced Pinkie Sense, at least!

“Ignoring how absolutely insane this all is,” I interjected, “who are you and what do you want with us?”

Who am I? I’m Pinkie Pie!

“The ministry mare? Isn’t she dead?” Dew’s confusion was now approaching weapons-grade levels.

Come on, Rainy, aren’t you paying attention? Original Pinkie’s dead, not me! Or she will be dead by the time you hear this, right now she’s still got a few years left. Anyway, I’m duplicate number thirty-seven! Or seventy-three, I can never keep it straight. And what do I want with you? Who wouldn’t want to talk to the two most important ponies ever brought to the Eta?

“Important? Eta? What the fuck are you talking about?” I had a bad feeling this recording, or conversation, whatever it was, was about to make my life a lot more complicated.

Musty! Watch your language, you’re being a bad influence on Mistdrop! Eta, that’s the name of the ship you’re on! And important, well, you know!

Dew responded before I could: “We know what, exactly?”

You… you don’t know? Ohmygosh Ohmygosh Ohmygosh! Does that mean… twitchy eye, fluttery ear, tingly nose… I need to tell you where to go! It’s super urgently serious you get there! Oh, but hold on, Abby’s almost there. Talk to you in a bit!

Dew and I stood, stunned, staring at the audio file’s progress bar still ticking up despite the complete silence coming from Pinkie’s end.

The spell was broken by the sound of footsteps from the hallway. The door to our room slid open, revealing the form of a female human. “Dewdrop? Rusty? Hi, I’m Abby. Alan sent me to let you know he’ll be busy with the Estro for a while longer, but he’d like you to keep waiting for him here. Is that okay with you?”

I managed to find my voice before Dew did. "That’s fine," I coughed out. "Thanks for letting us know."

Abby nodded in response. The door slid closed again as the sound of her footsteps faded away.

All right, she’s gone.

“Okay, what the fuck was that?!” ...And it sounded like Dew’s confusion had reached megaspell stage.

*GASP* Dewdrip! Bad unicorn! You know better than to use that kind of language! And as for you, Rusty Rigatoni Ribbit, shame on you for teaching her those naughty words! I’ve got half a mind to tell her your deep dark secret. And I totally would, except it’ll be so much better for her when you tell her! Oooh, it’s going to be such a great moment between you! I wish I could be there, but that would ruin the narrative. I’m so jealous!

What? How the fuck would she know about that? There was no chance in Tartarus I’d be sharing that secret, not even if Dew’s life was at stake! ...All right, maybe in that case.

No, you really need to tell her, Nutsy! It’ll make things so much more stupenderiffically easier for you two!

Wait. Was she reading my fucking mind?

Of course I’m not reading your mind, that’s silly! I’m just predicting your responses based on the superluminal vectors of your brain’s beta waves! Huh. Maybe I am reading your mind! Neat!

I reached out to stop the recording. Mind-reading duplicates was where I drew the line!

No, please please please don't do that yet, Gushy! Quivery hip means there's still more I need to tell you!

Dew grabbed my hoof before I could close the file. "I know, Rusty, this doesn't make any sense to me either. But I still think we should hear her out," she answered my unspoken question.

"Fine." I lowered my hoof. "Just make it quick. What else do you need to tell us?"

Oh. Darn. What do I need to tell you? Hold on, let me think...

This bitch... I was secretly hoping Alan would reappear and relieve us from this insanity, and damn the consequences if he was pissed at my hacking!

Alan... talking to the Estro... about your teleport! That's what I have to tell you about! See, this is why you shouldn’t distract me! Now, it’s very vitally important you have the Tragicians send you to level forty-four! And it’s not just because that number’s easy to remember! You’ll see when you get there. And don’t let them have your pistols either, they’ll still let you teleport without them. Okie dokie lokie, see you soon! Or, soon for you, it’ll be longer for me. How much longer… carry the seven… OHMYGOSH! That’s so much time! It’ll be soooooo boring! But it’ll be totally worth it! Remember, level forty-four! And keep the pistols! All right, buh-bye!

The file closed, the screen returned to the list of recordings, and Dew turned her head to me.

"Well."

"Yep."

"Did that really just happen?"

"Sure seems that way."

"And we're sure it was a recording?"

"Let me check." I pushed the button yet again.

Hi Dusty! Hi Raindrop! I’m glad I finally get to talk to you, it was soooooo boring waiting for you to press play!

"Definitely a recording."

"Yep."

"So what should we do about it?"

I had to think for a moment. "I guess we play it by ear. We don't even know if we'll be able to teleport! If we're able to teleport, then we can see about getting to level forty-four. Pinkie Pie did seem to know what was going on, more than we do at least. And if she's right about seeing us soon, we might be able to pry some more information out of her."

"You really think we should leave the Tragicians?"

"I'm not looking forward to living with jumpscares and Celestia knows what else they've created. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"But what if the next group is even worse?”

She had a point. “Then I guess we’ll have to make our way back here. We’ve got weapons, and they’re stronger than whatever the humans have. So we’ll have the advantage of strength and surprise, and if that’s not enough, we can just hop back in the freight tunnels. I’d say our odds are pretty good.”

“I guess. What do we do in the meantime?”

“Listen to more recordings?”

“Sure.”

Alan’s arrival caught us by surprise. We only noticed his approach when the door hissed open. "Dew? Rusty? Sorry it took so long."

The terminal was in the middle of a monologue from Jackknife, a raider who was recounting in gory detail every victim she'd gotten her hooves on. My hoof mashed at the pause button, but it was too late; there's no way Alan hadn't heard. Pleading innocence was clearly out of the question. I braced for the consequences.

"Hey, I see you got into the audio archives! Was that Jackknife? What a nasty one she was. We ended up leaving her inside an illusion spell. I voted for the 'Last Living Pony' simulation, but 'Eaten Alive' won out. Not a bad way to go, considering what she did to Rose Leaf. Speaking of going, you ready to head out?"

"Wait," Dew interjected, "you aren't ticked about us hacking?" Dammit, Dew, you don't bring up your crimes after they've forgotten about them!

Fortunately for me, Alan was dismissive, even amused. "Hacking? 'Course not! What else were you going to do in a computer room? If anyone was going to get in trouble it'd be me for leaving you alone here! Now come on, the Estro's waiting for us!"

Bullet: dodged. I disconnected my hoof device and fell into step beside Alan. "So what exactly is an Estro?"

"Right, I guess I never explained that. Estro Vivian is our boss. Estro is just a holdover term from the language we humans all spoke before we decided to replace it with Ponish. It's kind of like how your princess was called Luna, despite the original language not being used for millennia. Folks just got used to it."

"I'm sorry, 'Luna' is another language? Since when?"

"Since you switched to Ponish. No idea what your old language was called, but 'Luna' is a word from it that just stuck around."

“Weird. You ever hear anything about this, Dew?"

No response. I looked back to see her trailing behind us. She seemed distracted. "Hey, Dew!" I shouted back to her. Her head snapped up. "You awake back there?"

"Sorry, I guess I zoned out. Did you need something?"

"I was just asking if you had heard of 'Luna' being a word from another language."

She shook her head. "No, sorry, doesn't sound familiar."

Huh. "Okay. Thanks, Dew. That was it." And there she went, back into her own little world.

The three of us proceeded in silence for a while. I kept sneaking looks back at Dew. Her demeanor wasn’t improving; if anything, it looked like she was becoming more withdrawn. This behavior was oddly familiar to me. It reminded me of myself right after… the secret. Fuck, not this again...

I tried to shift my thinking to another subject, but Pinkie Pie’s words kept rattling around in my mind. If she predicted what we were doing, what I was thinking, would she also be right about things that hadn’t yet happened for us? Was I really ready to share, after all these years? Would it truly make things easier for me and Dew? I glanced back again. She looked like the spitting image of myself, all that time ago. Was I willing to let her continue like this, when I had the means to help?

No. No, I wasn’t. Dammit. Pinkie Pie was going to have to answer for a lot of shit when we finally met up.

“Hey, Alan?”

“What’s up, Rusty?”

“I need to speak with Dew. Privately. Is there somewhere just the two of us can go where we won’t be disturbed?”

“Sure thing, Rusty! We’ve actually got a study area just around the corner. There’s always one or two private rooms available in there. I can drop you two off and let Vivian know there’ll be a delay. Would fifteen minutes be enough?”

“I hope so. Your boss won’t mind waiting for us?”

“Vivian? Nah, she’ll be fine. Take as much time as you need, and when you’re done you can come out to the main area. I’ll wait for you there.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Alan.”

We rounded the corner and stepped through an open door into the study area. I immediately noticed the increased brightness. Made sense; as much as the Tragicians loved their darkness, trying to study with minimal light would be more trouble than it was worth. Dew only caught up with us after Alan had pointed out a few of the chamber’s features, including which quiet room we could use.

“Oh. Are we here already?” she asked as she took in our surroundings.

“Not quite, Dew. We’re making a quick stop first.” I turned my attention to Alan. “See you when we’re done.”

“Gotcha. Bye!”

Dew looked to me, puzzled. “Rusty? What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute, hon. Follow me.”

I led her to the side room Alan had shown me. Just as he had indicated, it was isolated in terms of both sight and sound. Perfect.

I closed the door behind us. “Dew, how are you holding up?”

“I’m doing fine, Rusty.”

“Are you sure? This room is completely isolated, nopony outside can hear you. Whatever you say in here, stays in here. You’re positive you’re fine?”

“Yes, I’m fine. You don’t need to press it.”

I thought that might be the case. “I hate to say it, but I do need to press it. You’re not fine. I can tell. You went through the biggest trauma in your entire life only a few hours ago, and you’re still recovering from it. Your posture, your tone of voice, every signal you’re giving off tells me you’ve stopped trying. You’re giving up on the world because it gave up on you, right?”

"I don’t know why you would think this. I dealt with it. I’m fine." She turned towards the door. "Can we keep going?"

I moved in front of her and looked her right in the eyes. “I don’t just think this, I know this. And I have personal experience with it. Looking at you back in the hallway was like looking at myself after my own biggest trauma. And I’m not talking about the story with my mom I already told you. There’s something else, something that lets me know exactly how you feel, because I went through the same thing.”

Wariness crept across Dew’s expression. “This is about what the Pinkie Pie recording said, isn’t it?”

I smiled sadly at her. “It is, but it isn’t. She promised that it would make things better for you. I wouldn’t even have thought of bringing you here without her prompting, but the reason I’m actually going through with it is you. I want to get you through this, Dew. You’re my friend, and I’m going to help you, even if it means reliving the worst experience of my life. You deserve it."

“Rusty? What are you getting at?”

“Sit down, Dew. This is going to be tough.

“This story takes place about a year after we escaped the Appleloosa slavers. My mom and I were still a team, collecting and selling salvage wherever we could. Things were back to normal; my mom was always resilient, and she recovered from the slaver incident after a week or so. But all of a sudden, she just started acting strange.

“She was nervous -- moreso than usual. A healthy amount of caution in the wasteland is essential, but it looked like she was genuinely scared by ordinary things. She was jumping in fright from stuff like the creak of a building settling, or even my own hoofsteps! She had trouble sleeping, and strangest of all, she didn’t want to drink water. We had survived my entire life drinking from streams and old cartons of water, but now she refused to drink anything except Sparkle-Cola and alcohol. She said we couldn’t trust the water, only bottled stuff. I wasn’t arguing; she never let me have beer before, and now I could have one whenever I wanted!

“It all came to a head one night when we were camping out in an old library. She was still having trouble sleeping, and it had gotten to the point where she was starting to see things that weren’t there. I had been a little too enthusiastic with the beer after we arrived, so I was able to pass out almost immediately after dark.”

A voice in my head cut in: Okay, Rusty, this is your last chance to back out. There’s no going back after this. Are you sure you want to keep going? I told that voice to fuck off. Dew needed this.

“I don’t know how long it was before I woke up. All I can say is it was still dark out. I was lying on my back, and the first thing I noticed was my mom. She was on top of me. Straddling me. She was muttering about somepony named Copper Mallet. And I noticed that I was fully erect beneath her. Waking up in that state wasn't too surprising; I was a horny little pony at that age. But what was surprising was that she suddenly slid me inside her.

“I didn’t know what to think. I wasn’t able to move. I must have been in shock, although the beers I had earlier certainly didn’t help matters. But all I was able to do was lie there, praying it was a dream, while my own mother raped me.”

And there it was. Secret’s out. Pinkie Pie better be right about this helping Dew.

“I know she never recognized me. Her eyes were unfocused, she kept glancing around, and the only name she mentioned was Copper Mallet. About how strong a stallion he was, how he made her feel like a real mare. And she rode me to completion. For both of us. After she slid off me and laid down on her own bedding, that was the first time I was able to move since it started.

“I managed to get to my hooves and slowly stepped over to her. I tapped her with my forehoof, and asked the only thing I could: ‘Mom, why did you do that?’

“All she said to me was, ‘Hey, Copper, ready for some more?’ She had no idea it was me. She had no idea what she had just done. I was hurt, devastated, abandoned, and the pony I had relied on my entire life was the culprit. And she didn't know, and apparently didn't care, what she had done.

“I must have noticed my revolver lying right beside her. The next thing I knew, I had the grip in my mouth and the barrel pointed between her eyes. Even then, I didn’t sense any recognition from her. I don’t think she even realized the gun was there. She just turned around and lifted her tail for me. That was the last straw. I tongued the trigger, emptied every single chamber into her, and killed my own mother.”

Dew was sitting in rapt attention, eyes wide, hooves covering her mouth. Okay, I got through the hard part. Wrap it up, then turn it into something that’ll help her.

“I didn’t get back to sleep that night. I lay on my bedding, crying, with my mom’s body not five feet away from me. I still couldn’t believe it had happened. It was only after dawn, when the clouds brightened enough for me to see her, that it really hit me.

“And I was furious. I still couldn’t bear to touch her, but I took every single one of her items and threw them at her body. When I ran out of her stuff, I threw books, tables, chairs, anything that wasn’t nailed down. Then, after she was completely covered, I set the whole pile on fire. That was the only way I could hurt her like she hurt me.

“I watched the fire burn itself out, then I gathered my things and galloped out of there. I was determined to take my rage out on the next living thing I came across. But before long, I found I just didn’t have the energy to go on. The only pony I ever cared about was dead, by my own hooves. I was alone, more alone than I had ever been in my life. I spent the next week basically sleeptrotting, doing the bare minimum to keep myself alive. And that entire time, I was thinking, 'What’s the point of anything? Why even bother? I should just lay down and die.'

"That's what my despair was like, Dew, and I'm positive you're going through exactly the same thing. Am I right?" She gave a tearful nod. "I could tell you it's going to get better, but we both know that's not going to change how you feel now. But here's what I can do to help you. I'm going to remind you that you've got one advantage I didn't have.

"You're not alone.”

I gently wrapped her in my forelegs, and despite her tears, I felt her return the embrace. Minutes passed by, her muffled sobs the only detectable sound, until I spoke again.

“Here’s the thing, Dew. I’m not going to leave you. When you first started tagging along, I couldn’t wait to get rid of you. I thought you were a naïve, emotional foal who would do nothing but hold me back. And I treated you that way. You were right back then. I was a savage. But you made me something more: a savage that wants to do better.

“We’re a team now, and no matter how you feel, you need to remember: I will always be there for you. That’s a Rusty Rivet Reassurance.”

I heard her stifle a giggle. “That’s the worst way to say ‘promise’ I’ve ever heard!”

“Give me a break, there’s not much I could do with a name starting in ‘R.’ Feeling better?”

“A bit. It’s funny, things never seem as hopeless when there’s somepony to share them with.”

“That’s the magic of friendship. Or so I assume. Come on, I bet Alan’s waiting for us.”

Alan was indeed waiting for us. He was seated at one of the long wooden tables at the center of the study room, paging through a substantial book. He looked up as we entered. “Rusty! Dewdrop! Excellent timing! I just finished my chapter, are you ready to continue?” I looked to Dew as she nodded in response. “Perfect! We’re actually going to be meeting Estro Vivian near the magic chamber. Couple floors down, not far. She’s really excited to meet you!”

A couple floors later, the three of us stood before the most ornate door I’d ever laid my eyes on. It was as dimly lit as the rest of the horror block, but I was still able to pick out the intricate gilding highlighting its grotesque carvings. Alan stepped up and knocked three times.

“ENTER.” a deep voice boomed out. The door swung back on its own, revealing yet another murky room. A robed human was illuminated near the center, facing the far wall. As we stepped over the threshold, the door slammed shut behind us. The figure spun around and raised its arms. Massive glowing snakes shot out of the sleeves, rapidly spiraling around themselves and closing in on us. Dew and I reflexively took a step back, but that was all.

“Odd,” the figure spoke. “That usually has more of an effect.”

“Yeah, Alan gave us the lowdown on the illusion spells,” I told the figure. “Sorry. Are you Vivian?”

“In the flesh!” She threw back her hood and, as she did so, the room brightened. “Alan, did you really have to tell them about the spells?”

“Sorry, Viv, I just get so excited when I get to explain our research! I guess bringing them to the observation annex was a little premature, huh?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The Estro sounded like she meant it as well. Horror aside, this had to be the most laid-back group of humans on the ship! “Now, Dewdrop, you’ve caused quite a stir among us Tragicians. It’s hard to believe, but the idea of teleporting a pony outside our borders never occurred to us! The dangers of insular thinking, I suppose. But I’m sure you’re not interested in our new research opportunities; you’re looking for a way to get home!”

“It would be nice,” I told her.

“Then you’re in luck!” she grinned. “Sort of. We’ve run the math, and sending either of you is technically possible with the chamber's teleport function. But there’s a catch.”

Of fucking course. Why couldn’t things ever be easy? “You’d only be able to send one of us, right?” Well, after my little speech earlier, I suppose it would be poor form to not let Dew go instead of me. Dammit.

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous!” Vivian laughed. Oh, thank Celestia. “It’s not like there’s a limited amount of energy on the ship! No, the problem is with power, not energy!”

“...And you lost me.” Weren't those the same thing?

“I think I know what’s going on,” Dew said. “They’re able to send both of us back, but building up a big enough charge will take far too long.”

“That’s it exactly,” Alan chimed in. “Great work making it so succinct!” Dew flushed at the compliment. I patted her back; did I mention I loved smart ponies? Alan continued: “Even if we stored every bit of our excess energy, it would take years to get enough to send one pony to the surface. And sending you to the cloud layer wouldn’t be much easier.”

“That’s why we’ll need you to go on an errand for us.” Estro Vivian was looking at us expectantly. Uh-oh. “You’ll have to go to Engineering and convince them to boost our power supply. It’s about thirty levels down --” wait, how big was this ship anyway? “-- but we’ll be able to teleport you there, no problem. Getting back, though, that’ll be up to you.”

Great. Arrive in potentially hostile territory, find a way to negotiate for -- or steal -- more power, then climb back up thirty sets of human-sized stairs. This had to be the most inconvenient mission I’d ever considered taking, but there was only one possible response. I had promised.

“I’ll do it.”

“We’ll do it.”

My head shot over in Dew’s direction. Ow. Was not expecting to have to crane my neck that much. “Dew, it's all right. I'll take care of it. You don't need to go with me."

"Yeah, right. After that whole bit about friendship and being a team? You better believe I'm sticking with you!"

I had said that, hadn't I. "Right. We'll do it. Sorry, Dew, I guess I'm still thinking in solo mode."

Alan's overly cheery voice cut in. "Oooh, sounds like there's a story! Care to share?"

"Maybe when we come back." I turned back to the Estro. "Will that work? Both of us?"

"Definitely! Now, there's one other thing. We're doing you a favor letting you use the teleporter to skip travelling through thirty levels, so in exchange we'd like you to leave one of your pistols with us. Alan impressed on me how stupendously overpowered they are, and we want to figure out what's so special about them. Don't worry, we'll give it back to you good as new when you return!"

I didn't even need Pinkie's warning to know she was spouting a load of brahminshit. "Sounds more like we're doing you a favor in going on this quest for you. And you want us to bribe you so you'll make the quest easier? I don't fucking think so."

Vivian flashed me a wry smile. "It was worth a try. I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell us where you picked them up?"

That's better. "I think we'd be okay with that. Dew?" She gave me a quick nod. "They were in a cargo bay on the same level where we escaped. We found them in a box labelled 'grain noodles' or something."

Both our human companions looked at me skeptically. "I'm sorry," Alan said, "did you say you found guns in a food box?"

"I thought it was pretty weird too," I told him. "So you're saying humans don't normally store guns and food together?"

"No." Vivian's reply was curt. "Alan, I'll handle the teleport. I want you to contact anyone you can think of and figure out where the hell this advanced weaponry came from and why it's being smuggled with our food!" Alan rushed out of the room, and I heard her mutter to herself. "If some faction's planning another uprising…"

"Well," Dew cut in, "I'm ready to get moving. Is the teleport ready?"

"Right, give me a moment," Vivian replied as she stepped over to a control panel. "I'll send you straight to Engineering, level forty-six."

"Actually, could you send us to level forty-four instead?" Dew's question caused Vivian to turn and face her, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "It's, um, my lucky number?"

"You realize that'll put you two floors above Engineering, right?" When that generated no response, Vivian shrugged, then turned back to the controls. "Makes no difference to me. Level forty-four, coming up. Try not to move, you don't want to be missing limbs when you get there."

"Wait, wha-" Dew's shout of alarm was cut off as she disappeared in a red flash.

"I love that joke," Vivian said to herself. "Hey Rusty, let her know I wasn't serious when you see her. I just couldn't let you leave without getting some reaction out of you!"

I rolled my eyes as she moved to activate my own teleport. Dew was right. Humans were all insane.