Fallout Equestria: Mothership Eta

“Is that… music?”

Dew came to a halt ahead of me on the staircase, her head cocked to one side. I hadn’t heard anything while we were still climbing the stairs, but now that we both had stopped, I could just barely make out a rhythmic clanging over the background hum of the lights above us.

“Yeah. Sounds like… bells? What do you think is going on up there? Do they have a musician faction?”

“Rusty, weren’t you paying any attention earlier?” Dew challenged me. I stared vacantly back at her. She shook her head defeatedly. “This is the Robotics section. We should be hearing beeps, not bells!”

“I don’t know, maybe they put bells on their robots? I’ve seen some pretty stupid robot designs back in the wasteland, the robots might be just as dumb up here!”

Dew turned her head up the stairs again. “No, that’s definitely music,” she said after listening for a bit longer. “Could still be robots playing it, but I don't think the source matters one way or the other. In any case, this is supposed to be one of the friendlier factions. Cheery music just confirms it!”

I wasn’t sure how she could determine how cheery the music was from this distance, but as we drew closer to the floor 43 entrance, I started to pick out more and more of what was being played. Dew was right, it was definitely cheery. Strange though; after all the other messed-up humans we’d discovered, cheery was the last word I’d expected to use in regards to a faction.

Dew reached the top of the stairs first and opened the door, revealing a wide hallway. The music became immediately clearer. It sounded like dozens of ponies were belting out a harmony in unison.

“What do you think, Dew? Should we try to find them?”

“Might as well,” she responded. “Robronies are supposed to be one of the factions that’ll be helping out the Engineers. Let’s see what they’re all about!”

We trotted side-by-side down the corridor, following the muffled singing, until we came to an oddly small wooden door. “This must be the place,” Dew said, looking over at me. “You ready?” I nodded in reply, and her magic reached out and turned the bright brass knob. The door swung open, away from us, to reveal…

“Okay, definitely wasn’t expecting this.”

I had to agree with Dew’s assessment. We were standing at the entrance to a massive room. A red carpet extended in front of us. On the left and right walls, spiral columns rose up to the ceiling, far above. Behind the columns, gigantic vertical screens displayed what looked to be a light snowfall taking place in a dimly lit exterior. Most of the room was lit with a subdued glow, except for a raised stage directly in front of us. The stage had several spotlights trained on it, illuminating six costumed ponies and what looked to be an undersized dragon. I could make out rows upon rows of ponies, griffons, zebras, a couple of those weird bug things; all facing away from us, taking up the entirety of the uncarpeted floor, and singing in unison the lyrics I was finally able to understand:

The fire of friendship lives in our hearts

As long as it burns, we cannot drift apart

Though quarrels arise, their numbers are few

Laughter and singing will see us through

We are a circle of pony friends

A circle of friends we'll be to the very end!

The song ended with a thunderous cheer and stamping of hooves from all the creatures in attendance. Dew and I stood completely still, jaws hanging open, still not quite processing what was before us. Cheery music was one thing, but we certainly didn’t expect a live performance in what looked to be a pre-war concert hall!

“They sure don’t look like robots,” Dew whispered to me as the cheering died down.

“Yeah,” I whispered back. “And where are all the humans? This isn't a pony-only faction, right?”

“Can’t be. Will and Ruby would have told us otherwise… right?”

Any reply I would have given was interrupted by an amplified voice coming from the stage. “Thank you all so very much! Safe travels to you all, and Happy Hearth’s Warming -- wait…” One of the figures appeared to be peering outward, its forehoof shading its eyes against the glare. “Who is that?” It almost seemed like it was looking at… us… Uh-oh.

“I got it!” shouted another. The figure on the far right shot into the air and took a direct path towards us!

“Dew, get down!” I yelled. We both dropped to the ground as the incoming figure spun, flipped, and landed with a solid clunk between us and the door.

“Hey Twi!” the figure called over us. “It’s a couple OC’s!”

Dew and I simultaneously craned our necks around to look at the creature standing behind us. The lighting in the chamber was increasing, allowing me to make out progressively more of our unexpected guest’s form. Her coat was a light blue, her mane a mess of all different colors, her eyes a reddish-purple. And… glowing? Wait, that’s not fur at all! It’s metal!

“I think we found the robots,” I muttered to Dew.

We both aimed our heads forward again at the sound of further metallic thuds coming down the central carpet. Approaching us were the rest of the creatures from the stage. A miniature purple dragon jogged on the left edge of the carpet -- hey, I guess my perception wasn’t that bad after all! Trotting next to it, a yellow-maned orange earth pony. A yellow pegasus with pink mane hovered just off the ground, unmoving wings sticking straight out from the sides. Two unicorns, one colored in shades of purple, the other white with purple mane. And on the far right… Pinkie Pie. Of course. What ridiculous situation would be complete without her showing up? Each of the figures scrutinizing us had the same glowing eyes and metallic body as the rainbow-coated one to our rear. And as I took in the bizarre situation before me, I realized the crowd was displaying a proportion of glowing eyes as well!

“...the ministry mares…” Dew gasped.

“Oh my,” the yellow one said in a voice barely above a whisper. Her hover cut out and her wings retracted into her body. She thumped to the floor and scrambled to hide behind the orange one. “Do you think they’re friendly?” she asked, her head barely peeking out.

“Ah don’t rightly know, sugarcube,” Orange spoke up, in an accent I would have never expected to hear coming from a machine. “Ah see they got weapons of some sort…” Yellow squeaked and hid her head completely, “...but that don’t mean they ain’t friendly.”

“I must concur,” said White. “Though their outfits are suggestive of the basest of ruffians, I believe their demeanor indicates puzzlement, not hostility!”

“Girls!” Purple cut in. “There’s no need to speak about somepony as if they’re not there! Don’t forget our friendship lessons!”

“You said it, Twi,” Blue added, leaping in an arc over us and hovering next to the others. “C’mon, that's what we were literally just singing about!”

Purple stepped forward, extending a metal-clad hoof. “I’m sorry for the rude introduction; we weren’t expecting anypony else at the concert. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and these are my friends,” she said, indicating the robots on either side of her. “What are your names?”

“This is Rusty Rivet, and I’m Dewdrop,” Dew replied as she got to her hooves. Her earlier shock of seeing the “ministry mares” must have worn off. And she was apparently confident enough to drop her guard around unknown robots. Not me. I’d seen far too many psychotic robots in my time. I double-checked that my pistol was in easy reach in case one of them decided to go crazy.

Purple beckoned, and the rest of the robots advanced. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you, Dewdrop! Rusty, I promise you, there’s no need to…”

"Hold on just a second," Pinkie-bot interrupted. Speaking of psychotic robots... “There's a subroutine that started running as soon as I got within arm's length of these two, we should see what it is!”

"Pinkie!” Purple whirled on her, sounding pissed off. “For the last time, it's not a subroutine, it's your Pinkie sense!"

The fucking Pinkie sense… Of course, why wouldn’t that make another appearance?

"I've told you, Twilight,” the pink robot shouted back, “Pinkie would be self-aware enough to know it's a subroutine!"

"That's not the canon we're going with!” Orange shouted, foregoing her earlier accent. “Your self-aware bit was last week!”

I noticed the dragon robot bringing his foreclaw to his face as the group of robots devolved into heated bickering.

“Both of you stop! You’re ruining the immersion!”

“I don’t know, I kind of liked the Mecha-Pinkie idea…”

“There’s no point in doing this if we’re going to ignore canon!”

“What’s canon about robots?!”

“Just let her do it! It’s not that big a deal!”

“Is nopony going to mention how she said ‘arm’s length?’”

“EXCUSE ME!” a shrill voice called out. The robotic argument halted as a new figure approached. All eyes turned to focus on the voice’s source: a female earth pony, red, with faded blue mane and non-glowing blue eyes. A real pony? She certainly didn’t look like a robot, not with that exasperated expression on her face.

“Miss Mayor? What is it?” asked Purple.

“I believe it would be best,” the newcomer stated, “if you let me and Spike handle our visitors. You have your own friendship assignments already, correct? With the rest of the Hearth’s Warming celebrations?”

I didn’t think it was possible for robots to look sheepish, but the six facing us did a reasonable approximation of it. “We’re sorry, Mayor Flower,” said Purple, apparently the leader of the group. “Come on, girls, we have a celebration to direct!” The pony robots broke away from us and galloped towards the chamber’s sides. The rest of the congregation apparently took that as a signal to leave as well, and the mass of creatures began to converge on two exit doors that had appeared on the side walls, halfway to the stage. I took it as my own signal that the threat was gone, and rose to my hooves. No sense in staying prone now that the crazy robots had disappeared.

“Oh, Miss Mayor?” Wait, Pinkie-bot was still here? She apparently wasn’t willing to leave us alone just yet. Of fucking course.

“Yes, Pinkie?”

“I wasn’t roleplaying earlier; there really was a subroutine that popped up.”

“Does it involve anything urgent?” the mayor asked, obviously irritated.

“No…”

“Then forward it to my terminal and I’ll look at it later.”

“Okay… Sorry, Miss Mayor!” Pinkie finally, finally, galloped away, leaving Dew and me to face Mayor Flower and the dragon robot in the empty chamber.

“Fucking finally.” The mayor broke the silence first. “Spike, how much longer is that batch going to be playing the Mane Six?”

“Another three weeks, Flower,” the dragon robot -- Spike -- answered.

“Fuck me…” The mayor turned her attention to us. “As for you two, I assume you’re the agitators heading up to the Tragician levels?” Wait, what? Nopony outside Engineering was supposed to know about that! “Sorry, ‘repairponies,’” she added after taking in our shocked expressions. “Don’t worry, Will sent me a message explaining who you are and what you’re doing. Your cover hasn’t been blown yet.”

“I guess that’s a relief,” Dew said.

“Yep,” I agreed. “But speaking of the plan, we should probably get going. We’ve got a lot of floors to cover before we get back to the Tragicians.”

“Really? Already?” Spike asked. The robotic voice did a decent job conveying concern, even if the face wasn’t able to match. “You don’t want to let the Engineers prepare some more?”

That was certainly an odd question. “I’d assume they’d have plenty of time to prepare while we’re climbing up thirty-odd levels,” I responded.

“Thirty-odd… you’re not going to have nearly… You have no idea what your role here is, do you?” Mayor Flower sputtered.

“We’re… bringing a message up to the Tragicians?”

“Rusty,” Flower facehooved, “did it never occur to you why you’re being referred to as agitators?”

I had to admit, worrying about specific labels was pretty low on my list of priorities. And by pretty low I of course meant I had no fucking interest at all. “Obviously not. I suppose you’re going to enlighten me?”

She sighed. “Might as well. But not just now. There’s always a chance the panicked masses could decide to run back here.”

“Panicked masses?” Dew blurted. “Just what the buck is going on?”

“You’ll see. Come with me, we can talk more in Town Hall.”

Oh, come on! “You do realize we’re on a spaceship, right?” The mayor, who had begun a quick trot towards the nearest of the side doors, stopped and glared back at me as I continued, “Just call it an office or something! You don’t need to puff up your ego and call it a town hall!”

“I think I understand why they selected you to be an agitator,” the mayor spat back at me. “Rusty? Shut the fuck up.” She continued her march to the door as the rest of us followed behind her. Wow. Sensitive much?

“Ugh,” I heard her mutter. “Spike, do I have a sign that reads ‘I love dipshits’ stuck to my back?”

Even considering my previous experiences with various types of human strangeness, the sight that greeted me when I stepped outside the chamber was something I had never expected. I had grown used to the sterile hallways, isolated rooms and occasional grand expanses of the human ship, but this was a completely new level of extravagance.

I was standing in a room; that much was certain. Its height and width were similar to the Analysts’ chamber, but the decoration couldn’t be more different. Where the Analysts’ chamber was dim, this was bright. Where the Analysts’ floor was cluttered with stasis pods, here prewar Equestrian buildings broke up the view. The black walls and ceiling from before were now bright blue, with a brilliant yellow orb directly above us!

I had only ever seen a single example of what life in Old Equestria was supposed to be like, in a scale model created by an eccentric old unicorn. She had been one of my most reliable customers of scavenged knickknacks, and she would occasionally grant me glimpses of the model town she was building. I remembered it as the most brightly lit and colorfully painted object I had ever encountered. It stood out in my memory as a bleak reminder of all that Equinity had lost. And it looked like her model had been scaled up to life size and plopped down right in front of me!

“Rusty? Dewdrop? Welcome to New Ponyville.”

It took me a few moments to realize that Spike was addressing us. Dew, of course, was alert enough to pick up on the greeting and respond for both of us as we followed the mayor down a narrow cobblestone street.

“Amazing… It looks just like a prewar village!”

“That’s what we’re going for. There are differences of course; not as many native plants as we’d like, and the building materials aren’t authentic. But even with those limitations, I’d say we’ve done a bang-up job of recreating Ponyville!”

“Ponyville…” Dew looked contemplative. “Does that mean there’s a connection to the Ministry Mares?”

“You picked up on that, did you?” the mayor called back. “Yes, the ‘Ministry Mares’ need a perfect replica if they want to ‘save the day.’” Her voice was dripping with obvious disdain. “Speaking of which, I was expecting the monster of the day to have shown up by now. Spike?”

“Don’t look at me,” he shrugged. “This batch doesn’t see a reason to break immersion and keep me in the loop.”

Immediately after he finished his sentence, an earsplitting roar emanated from the ceiling! My gaze shot up to the source, only to see a gigantic robot emerge from a dark hole! I immediately dove into cover behind a building as the hole rapidly irised shut, trapping the robot in the room with us! From my hiding spot, I could only make out a few details of the robot. It looked like the bastard offspring of a stingwing and yao guai, but many times larger than either parent! My teeth quickly found my pistol’s mouthgrip, and I had just about removed it from its holster when I felt Spike’s claw halt my progress. “No need for that,” he stated, pushing my pistol back where it came from. “Let the mares have their fun.”

I was about to point out that the two mares in front of us didn’t seem to be doing anything resembling “having their fun.” Before I could speak, though, I noticed beams of blue and purple magic lighting up the sky around the bug-bear-bot, and two pony-shaped robots flying in circles around the target, thrusters glowing under their wings. “Wait, you mean those mares?” I asked him.

“They’re the ones... Don’t worry, nopony ever gets hurt during these stunts.” He removed his claw and hurried to join our other companions, who were nonchalantly trotting down the street, as if oblivious to the battle taking place above us.

“Hold on!” I yelled, as I raced to catch up. “Are you telling me they’re just pretending to fight?”

“Yeah… didn’t you two get a briefing on what the factions were about? I thought the Engineers would’ve let you know what was up!”

“We got general information, mainly what sort of role the factions filled,” Dew answered for me as we rejoined her and the mayor. “Like with your group. We know you’re robotics, and we heard something about using robots to simulate life on the surface.” Well, she at least had heard that. Guess I should have actually paid attention to Will and Ruby’s lecture. “But I had no idea you were running battles!” she went on. “And speaking of factions, where are all the humans? They’re not just watching us remotely, are they?”

“I wish,” sighed Flower. “That would be a lot better than the ridiculous self-inserts they insist on doing.”

“Self-inserts?!” Dew stumbled a bit as she tried to process what had just been revealed to us. “You mean, the Ministry Mares…”

“...Are actually robots being piloted by humans,” Flower finished Dew’s thought. “Yes, it’s as stupid as it sounds. They hop into robotic bodies and pretend to be our noble saviors. At least in this town; over in New Canterlot you’ll see the humans themselves pretending to be part of Equestria.”

Wow. That was one of the most foalish things I had ever heard of. Hold on a second… “Does that mean every robot here is actually a human?” I challenged.

“Not every robot,” Spike said. “The majority of pony-sized bots have human drivers, but there are a couple autonomous units around, like that bugbear over there.” He pointed in the direction of the muffled crashes occurring in the distance. “And I’m actually a rare breed myself: a pony who gets to drive a dragon around. It’s part of their narrative,” he continued, forestalling my obvious followup question. “There has to be a ‘number one assistant’ -- using this particular form -- who keeps things sane.” He fixed me with his glowing green eyes. “My real name’s Diamond Catcher, I’m a thirty-seven year old earth pony, and I lived in a little place called Starlight’s Blight before they brought me up here. Oh, and I’m a mare. Bet you’d never have guessed that from the voice, huh?”

“It’s hard to tell.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” he (she?) said.

“We’re almost there!” the mayor called out. “Better hurry, we don’t want to be separated if they start the stampede!”

I followed her voice around one final corner and saw her and Dew galloping ahead of me, already halfway across an open space oddly clear of buildings. Ah well. Better heed her warning; whatever this stampede was, I was sure I didn’t want to be caught in it. I took off in my own gallop, emerging from the alleyways and at the same time comprehending just how open this area was! For at least a hundred feet in front of me, the only features rising above the gravel floor were a solitary fountain and a few wooden poles supporting colorful banners, limply hanging. A few hundred feet away stood another collection of tightly-packed buildings. And in the center of the clearing, Dew and Flower were standing on the steps of…

Huh. I guess it really was a town hall.

Spike and I caught up to our companions at one of the multiple entrances to the building’s ground floor. Flower pushed open the decorative door, and we all accompanied her up the curved flight of stairs following the building’s outer wall. We reached the third floor after a trip halfway around the building’s perimeter, and the mayor led us to a carved wooden door at the far end of another circular room. “My office,” she stated icily, glaring at me as Spike opened the door for us.

“Yeah, I get it,” I growled back.

We filed into the office and Spike led me and Dew to a pair of chairs facing the mayor’s desk. “Anything I can get for you?” he asked the mayor, as she trotted to her own chair on the desk’s opposite side.

“Might as well grab some snacks and drinks. Thanks, Spike.” The dragon-bot sharply saluted and spun on his heels, heading straight for the exit.

“Okay, I’ll admit, this is a lot more than I was expecting when you mentioned a Town Hall,” I conceded. The elaborate carvings I had previously seen in the Tragician levels were duplicated along the support columns here, but using much less disturbing imagery. The trim along the ceiling and floor was gold-gilded wood: present in a ruined state in the fancier wasteland buildings I had explored, but in flawless condition up here! The carpet was thick; an intense dark red, the walls the deep brown of naturally-cut wood, the ceiling regular wooden panels, lit by ornate electric lanterns hanging from polished golden chains.

“So, Miss Mayor,” Dew asked, “can you tell us anything else about the humans here?”

“In a minute. As much as I hate to admit it, these ‘Pinkie Sense’ incidents are usually worth investigating.” I noticed a terminal screen had emerged from her desk, mirroring our interaction with Will in Engineering. She tapped on a keyboard and leaned forward to examine the screen. “Hm,” she said after a few moments. “Nothing too Equus-shattering. Here, take a look.” She used her hoof to pivot the screen so Dew and I could read it:

Message for Mayor Tato Flower:

These two ponies are Rusty Rivet and Dewdrop. Help them out any way you can. Every advantage you can give them will ultimately be useful. You can use your imagination to think of the best way to assist.

When they arrive in your office, feel free to offer them refreshments. It’ll be a great time! Like popcorn and punch! Liquor is always an option, but probably not the best idea given their mission.

Engage them. Not in an aggressive way, silly, but in a friendly way! Don’t forget, every second they’re still here is more time you and the Engineers have to prepare!

Eventually, you’ll have to let them continue upwards. Take them to the entrance near Pilot Station 3, that’ll be the best way for them to approach the Avatars. Afterwards, return to the office and you can finalize your preparations for the coming conflict!

Sincerely,

Pinkie Pie 18

Mayor Tato Flower, hmm? Made sense, she sure as Tartarus swore like a wastelander.

“That message was… oddly straightforward,” Dew remarked, apparently more interested in the content of the message than its recipient.

“You thought so too?” the mayor responded. “I’ll admit, it’s a relief not having to dig through layers of insanity to figure out what that dimwit is talking about. You’ve had your own interactions with her?”

“A few, though not with…”

Anything else Dew might have said was drowned out by the sudden sound of a massive riot! It was coming directly from the open window, whatever it was must be right outside! Dew and I both leaped out of our seats, but the mayor simply turned in her chair and glanced outside. She shook her head dismissively, then extended a hoof to slide the window shut.

“And there’s the stampede,” she said dryly.

“I take it we’re in no danger?” I asked, still unclear as to what exactly was happening.

“None at all. Even if you were outside, the stampedes are organized enough that nopony ever gets trampled. Worst that ever happens is ending up on the opposite side of town from where you want to be.”

“You seem so indifferent,” Dew remarked.

“It’s part of the daily routine. You know: wake up, eat, watch fake monster attack, stampede, wash mane. Just part of life here.”

“What? So not only are you captives here, but the humans force you to stampede whenever they feel like pretending to be heroes?!” Dew was yelling, obviously outraged. I hopped back into my seat and leaned back, ready to see what this exchange evolved into. Given the mayor’s name, I was pretty sure I knew both her origin and what her response would be. Might as well sit back and enjoy the show.

“If I was in your horseshoes, I’d never stand for this!” Dew shouted. “You call yourself mayor but you’re willing to let the townsponies be chased for the humans’ amusement? The buck is wrong with you?”

Mayor Tato Flower smiled wryly, which only served to antagonize Dew even more. Dew was nearly steaming with pent-up frustration, waiting for the mayor to respond.

And respond she did, with a question of her own. “Dew, how many times have you been scared for your life?”

“Ohhh no. Don’t make this about me, those are your ponies running scared down there!”

“This is absolutely about you. Tell me, have you ever been out of food with no idea where your next meal would come from?” Dew’s stance softened a little. “How about rad poisoning? Ever crawled into a village, bleeding from both ends, desperately trying to make it to the clinic before you died in your own filth?” Flower was leaning forward over her desk now.

“Ever seen your friends captured and flayed alive right in front of you while you hid in a cupboard, praying the raiders wouldn't find you? Ever make sure to save one bullet in your gun so you wouldn’t have to share their fate?” The tables had turned. Tato Flower was now the one shouting in righteous fury, while Dew had recoiled from the mayor’s accusing outstretched hoof.

“Have you ever cursed the day you were born into a life of endless suffering?!” She reached back to point out the window. “Every single pony in this village has lived through tortures you couldn’t imagine! You think we’re captives? We beg our ‘captors’ to bring our friends and families to this paradise where a harmless stampede is the worst part of our day!”

Dew was now shrinking in her chair as the mayor’s voice reached a climax. Dammit, where the fuck was Spike? I could really use some popcorn for this!

“I may complain about the Robronies and their foalish pastimes, but those annoyances pale in comparison to what it’s like outside these floors! Every creature in this village is eternally grateful to be where they are now and not with some other malicious faction!”

Tato Flower clambered on top of her desk and scowled down at Dew. “You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. I knew from the minute I saw you that you were a conceited little shit. You were on this noble mission to end any misdeeds you came across. Am I hitting close to home?” Dew nodded. “And it never occurred to you that ponies might not want your help?” She nodded again.

“I thought so,” the mayor growled. “You know that song you interrupted back in the chapel? All those words were earnest. Every. Single. One. And we will celebrate each and every pony added to our circle of friends. The Robronies are playing at being heroes now, but when they pilot their machines to liberate the actual captives on this ship, they will be heroes!

“That’s why we play along with the humans’ wishes. Because we know what it’s like to suffer, and what it means to be freed from that suffering.” She placed her forehooves on Dew’s chair and looked her straight in the eyes. “So get this through your thick skull: you don’t understand a fucking thing.”

“Well,” I said, munching on my popcorn, “that was certainly enlightening.”

“Shut up, Rusty,” Dew sulked.

Mayor Flower had kicked us out of her office shortly after Spike returned with refreshments. At least I was able to snag a bag of popcorn before we had the door slammed shut in our faces. Spike was now leading us to our designated dropoff point two decks up. We had just reentered the streets of New Ponyville when I decided to start the discussion where we had left off.

“No, really,” I responded. “I’m curious what you think of what happened back there.”

“What happened? I was the recipient of the worst tongue-lashing I’ve seen since my cousin snuck down to the stratus layer!”

“I’ll admit, that was an impressive show.” Dew shot me the dirtiest glare I had ever seen her give. “But that’s not what I was asking. I want to know what you think about the message, not the delivery.”

“That message was as worthless as that mayor. I’m not going to listen to a word that conceited witch said,” Dew answered in a huff.

“That’s too bad,” Spike said, looking back and joining the conversation. “I thought she had a couple good points.”

“Really.” Dew’s ire found a new target in the dragon-bot. “You want to dump on me now too?”

“Not at all,” he chuckled. “I’m referring to the substance of her speech, not the style!”

“Not interested in that either. Why do you care, anyway? We’ll be out of your mane in a few minutes!”

“It’s my job.” Spike began walking backwards as he turned to face us directly. “Part of being a number one assistant means translating what ponies mean from what they say. Tato’s a passionate leader, but that can get in the way of getting her point across. I can express the same ideas in a more... tactful... way.”

“Hmph,” Dew snorted. “You can try.”

“Thank you, Dew. I’m eager to debate with an Enclave pony; we don’t see too many of you up here.”

“You can tell I’m from the Enclave?”

“It wasn’t too difficult, though the dossier we received from the Engineers certainly didn’t hurt matters. There’s a certain -- I wouldn’t call it arrogance, more like… dignity -- Enclavers possess.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to dump on me,” Dew frowned.

“I apologize, I meant no disrespect. In my eyes, Enclavers are entitled to their dignity. You’ve not only preserved the most venerated civilization Equus has ever seen, you’ve improved upon it. You took the loss of your eternal leader and created a new government: for the Equines, of the Equines. While the rest of the world devolved into chaos, you built a beacon of order. You should be proud.”

“I assume you learned this from your spy satellites?”

“And filtered through the Analysts, yes. The point is, the Enclave is a wonderful place to live. But it’s not perfect, is it?” Spike cocked his head to the side, an invitation for Dew to confirm or deny his claim. Amazing how he could translate body language to two legs like that!

“There’s always a few things that can be improved upon,” Dew nodded resentfully.

“Like the unequal distribution of resources, right?” Dew nodded again. “The eternal struggle...

"I have a thought exercise for you," Spike continued. "Let’s pretend I’ve just appeared in your hometown. I’ve got a shiny new spaceship with plenty of guns, and a plan: we go straight to the High Council and demand they share resources more equally. The rich settlements won’t miss the small amount it takes to bring the poor ones up to their standards, and the poor settlements have their lot immeasurably improved. Everypony’s happy, right?”

“Right. Where are you going with this?” Dew asked. I had to agree. Granted, the “problem” in question was something I would have loved to be my most pressing issue back on the surface. But with my limited experience, I couldn’t see any point to this little exercise.

“Patience, Dewdrop.” We had reached the edge of town and run up to a solid wall. Spike’s head swiveled forward, away from us, and a portal irised open before us. We all stepped through, into an industrial corridor, and Spike proceeded with his story.

“So we’ve solved a pressing problem, with no negative consequences for anypony involved. And with that success, ponies in your village see the opportunity to solve even more problems. Like the food shortage! All it would require is taking the lower cloud layer from the military and turning it into farms! There are plenty of other spaces in the sky for the military to hold their exercises, and the increased food production will benefit everypony. Now, what about transport? Instead of using skywagons to bring produce to market, every town could use a vertibuck! No need for the military to hog them all! ...No offense,” he added as an aside to a passing robotic radhog. The radhog snorted and grumpily stomped down a side hallway.

“Sorry, Wilbur!” Spike called after him. “All right,” he continued, returned his attention to us. “What other problems are there to solve? How about representation? We insist that positions on the Council be open to everypony, regardless of military background!” We came to the base of a wide staircase and began our climb. “It’ll be perfect! Anypony can be elected to the Council… and have no power whatsoever.”

Dew’s steady canter missed a beat. “Come again?” she inquired.

“The Council will have no power. All the authority now comes from me and my little spaceship. I’ve fixed all the problems I was asked to… and in the process, I’ve destroyed your government. They'll have no ability to rule, not when everypony knows I can override them any time I want to. It’ll be a new system: for the Equines, of Spike.”

Dew looked thoughtful. “All right, that’s an extreme example of what can happen when a hero goes too far. But that’s not a reason to not try to improve things!” She was apparently unconvinced; I had a hard enough time following all this new Enclave jargon. Just as well; I could leave the heavy philosophy to those more inclined to care.

“You’re absolutely correct, Dew,” Spike continued. “The point of my story wasn’t to argue against improvement. It was to point out that actions have consequences. Even the best-intended act can lead to unforeseen setbacks. By aiming for better, you could easily end up ruining the good. You need to ask yourself whether the improvement is outweighed by the price paid if you fail.”

We climbed in silence for a few moments. Spike was letting his tale sink in, Dew was weighing its implications, and I was waiting for her to decide which way our shared moral compass should point. Finally, she spoke.

“That was an oddly specific story you gave us.”

Spike gave a grim chuckle. “Let’s just say, there’s a reason my hometown was called ‘Starlight’s Blight.’ Anyway, here’s your stop. Good luck, you two!” He turned away from us and proceeded back down, giving a final wave of his claw as he disappeared around the curve of the stairwell. And we were alone once again, ready to begin the final climb up to deck 40.

“That’s a pleasant surprise,” I confided to Dew. “I would’ve thought he’d stay and make sure we came to the right conclusion.”

“Not my role!” he called back, clearly still able to hear us. “You two get to make your own decisions. My job’s to give you the right perspective!”

Fair enough. I waited until he was definitely out of earshot to ask, “What do you think, Dew?”

“Sounded like a load of horseapples to me. Nothing like that could ever happen to our government. The Enclave treasures its democracy too much! How about you, think he was full of it too?”

“Dew, I was having a hard enough time keeping track of cloudwagons and whatever other terms he was throwing our way.” And she wasn’t helping, making up new words like democracy. “But that last bit, about improvements outweighing the risk? That’s something concrete I can wrap my head around.”

Dew gave me an exasperated sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re buying into that garbage.”

I shrugged. “Hon, that was something I had already bought into. Scavenging in the wasteland is entirely about risk. Like if you have to decide whether taking on a parasprite nest is worth the loot they’re guarding. If it’s a couple caps, no way. If it’s a wagon full of spark batteries, you better believe those bugs are going down!”

“Rusty, we’re talking about ponies’ lives here, not rubbish collecting!”

“It’s a similar principle. Everything we’re doing here is affecting ponies’ lives. The question is, do we want to spend our efforts making things on this level more comfortable, or do we want to finish the job we started on the Guro levels? Yeah, it sucks that these ponies get chased around once a day. But is that really worth fighting for when there’s ponies upstairs with their lungs wrapped around their ankles?”

Dew looked a little queasy at my reminder of the atrocities taking place on the ship. “Come on, Rusty, why’d you have to stir up that memory?” I responded with an innocent smile. “Yeah, I get it. There are plenty of horrors to take care of before we have to worry about the inconveniences.” She turned to continue up the stairs. “But I'm not planning on forgetting about these ponies either. Come on,” she beckoned, “we’ve got a lot more floors to cover!”

I followed in her wake. We marched forward with confidence, both blissfully unaware of the new horrors we’d encounter in such a short time…