Fallout Equestria: Mothership Eta

The recording cut out into static as the yak had presumably stomped “metal thing” into oblivion. I was suddenly glad I had never met a yak during my time as a scavver. They sounded dumb as shit.

Naturally, Dewdrop had gained something different from that recording. “Rusty, did you hear what I just heard?”

“It was a yak, Dew,” I told her sarcastically. “They exist. I’ve never met one, but they’re not extinct or anything.”

“Not that part!” She was speaking quietly, but her voice held as much excitement as I’d ever heard. “The part about Pinkie Pie!”

That name did sound familiar, somehow. “...Continue…”

“The mare of the Ministry of Morale?” Right, the one with the oddly-intact posters all over the wasteland. And the one staring down from the poster opposite me. Huh. Wonder if there was a connection.

“And that’s a poster of her, right over there!” Dew continued. “There has to be a connection!”

“I suppose you might be on to something, hon.”

“But that’s not the important part. That yak said she had met Pinkie Pie, so unless yaks live for centuries…” Technically possible, though she hadn’t sounded like a ghoul. She just had the brainpower of a feral. “...that means she was yaknapped at least a hundred ninety years ago! These aliens have been around at least that long! There must be so much history stored here!”

History. Who the fuck would care about that while they were still in the middle of hostile territory? “You know what else is stored here, Dew? Aliens that want nothing more than to toss us back in a cage until the end of time. You go ahead and geek out about history if you want, I’m going to work on the problem at hoof.” I turned back to the terminal.

“Right, sorry, I just got a little excited. You said you’re looking for a map?”

“I found it. I can’t copy it to my hoof-thingy, but I can do the next best thing.” I tapped a few keys on the terminal. “I’ll pull it up on the screen and we can at least figure out some directions.”

It was awkward having to split my attention between the terminal screen and my hoof screen, but I eventually managed to find what I thought was our correct location. Well, there appeared to be one way to find out.

“Dew, can you open and close the door there, really quick?” As she did so, I kept my attention on the map region I thought we were in. Sure enough, the off-color connection on the screen between the room and the hallway flashed red, then back to dark green. Real-time map updates. Fancy. Would definitely make things harder for us if we were ever detected.

...Or maybe not. I paused to think for a bit. Our escape must have been noticed by now, and if the real-time mapping extended to hatches as well, the aliens must have some idea of where we are. But there didn’t seem to be any coordinated recapture effort. Or uncoordinated, for that matter. Far be it from me to understand how aliens thought, but the two we had heard in the hallway seemed completely unconcerned.

“Rusty?” Dew’s voice broke my concentration. “Is everything okay?”

“Just thinking. The aliens really don’t seem to be trying hard to find us. I would have expected an alarm of some kind, but there's nothing. There's not even a mention of us on this terminal, and the thing gets continual updates!" I waved my hoof in the direction of the screen in bewilderment. "I don't get it."

"That is strange. I wonder if they wanted us to escape?"

I stared at her in shock. That was an option I hadn't considered. It took me a few moments to respond.

"That certainly would explain a few things, but I doubt that's what really happened. Or at least, it's not the full story. They lost two of their own when we got out, and I don't think they would throw their own lives away just to let us escape. But who knows? They might be just an extra-stupid breed of alien."

That got a chuckle out of her. "We're getting sidetracked. We still need to figure out where to go next. It looks like this map has a search function." I regarded my hoof screen. "I guess I get to find out how useful this thing really is."

Stupidly useful, it turned out. I hadn't used the hoof device's controls yet because terminal keys were so much easier to press, but all I had to do was enter a word on the device in Ponish and the corresponding alien script would appear on the terminal. The word "cargo" brought up several results, the closest of which was three levels up from our current location. I knew the translation worked. Now I had to figure out what to do with it.

"Dew, it's brainstorming time. If we're going to get off this ship, where would we go to do it?"

"Ooh!" she responded excitedly. "I know exactly! Pom Cornet, Space Cadet #4: Lost Race of Pliohippians! Pom needs to get out of the abandoned colony ship orbiting planet Lucerne, so she finds the last functioning escape pod and reaches the Pliohippian capital city!"

There she goes again, spouting more words that made no sense. Hold on... "Are you quoting a comic book?"

"Well, yes... But doesn't it make sense that a spaceship would have an escape pod?"

She had a point. "Okay, spacemare, we'll look for escape pods." I typed the term into my hoof screen.

Nothing.

"Try looking for just 'escape,' Rusty."

I typed in "escape." Nothing.

"Pods?"

Several results appeared, all having to do with cargo.

"Okay, what about Issue #7, Betrayal in Space? Pom tries to use a teleporter to board a renegade ship, but it turns out Captain Steppenhoof is working for…" She caught my look. "...sorry. Try 'teleport.'"

I did. Nothing.

"This makes no sense!" Dew exclaimed. "How in the nine moons do they get off the ship?"

"How many moons?" For fuck's sake. What was wrong with this mare?

"Sorry, still in comic book mode. Hmm, no teleporter, no escape pods. Shuttles?”

“Nope.”

“Fighters?”

“Nope.”

“Bays?”

“It’s showing us the swimming pool.” For as advanced as this translator must have been, there were obviously still some terms it struggled with.

“All right, what about docking bay?”

One result. “Found something, Dew. It’s… eight levels up.” Dammit. “Which means the tunnels are out, unless we find some way to climb up the shafts. And that’s dangerous by itself. If a cart comes while we’re climbing, we’re dead. Hate to say it, but I think we need to brave the hallways.”

“The hallways? Are you sure?”

Let’s see. Checking the map again… “It shouldn’t be too bad. There are stairs back the way we came from, not too far of a trot. And once we get to the level we want, we’ll be able to take the tunnels again. We just need to climb up eight flights and keep our eyes open for trouble.”

“Eyes peeled, got it.”

I cringed involuntarily. “Dew, remember when I told you about raiders? I don’t ever want to hear you use that expression ever again.”

“What do you mean? Eyes peel… oh. OH!”

Despite my planning, I had forgotten all the implications of architecture designed for aliens so much larger than ponies. The eight flights here would be closer to twenty in a pony building. Dew and I were both panting by the time we reached the top. Even with the short rests we took at each floor to scan the landing for threats, the climb was still exhausting. I would have to consider using an elevator for future vertical travel. Higher risk of discovery when the doors opened, but it would be a fair trade to avoid repeating this slog.

We stuck our heads up high enough to view our target. There was another freight tunnel a five-second gallop away from the stairwell. We took a full minute to get there, crawling with our bellies pressed to the floor. No need to tempt fate. I kept watch as Dewdrop magicked the hatch open. It was odd, I thought as I scanned the hallway: it looked like there was a flickering light around the corner. It was regular; doubtful that it came from an alien, but I kept a close eye on it regardless.

"Rusty, I’m through!" Dew called to me at last. "Get in here!"

I stepped in front of her as she let the hatch swing shut behind me. As we headed towards the first junction, I noticed there was significantly more grime in these tunnels. They must not be used as often as the ones on lower decks. *bzzz* □□□□ Processing. What were those squares? I looked at the sign it was attempting to translate. The script was garbled -- more than usual -- and a section seemed to be missing altogether. Missing words and filthy corridors? Navigating this level was going to be an absolute joy.

Progress was slow. Intersections would be marked partially or not at all, leading us to simply guess at the correct path. At the very least, we knew our goal was on this level, so tracks that disappeared into the ceiling or floor could be safely ignored. But the number of times we had to backtrack due to wrong turns and dead ends was infuriating. The few intact signs we found finally led us to a section where the tunnel appeared to have collapsed. Our path was blocked by a mass of girders and panels stretching from floor to ceiling.

That was it. "Dew, I've had enough of this," I told her. "These tunnels are worse than the ones back in the wasteland! I'm taking my chances in the hallways."

She stared at me, a distressed look plastered on her face. "But what about the aliens?"

"If these tunnels are any indication, the hallways should be abandoned too." I gestured with my hoof. "Look around, there hasn't been a cart through this place in years! No carts means no supplies, and no supplies means no aliens. You follow?”

She seemed unconvinced. “Dew, let me put it this way. I’m going to take the hallways. Whether I do it with you or not is completely up to you.” I turned and started backtracking towards the nearest hatch.

A brief moment of panic flashed across her face. This mare was honestly like a little lost pet. Weren’t farmers supposed to be self-reliant? Whatever; she was obviously going to keep following me, and having an extra gun never hurt.

She raced to catch up to me. "Rusty," she said as she pulled even with me, "it’s just… I’m just nervous. It’s funny, back home I had no problem with open spaces, but now I don’t feel safe anywhere but these tunnels? What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know, but you better figure it out soon. You can’t be having a panic attack if fighting starts. If you do, I’m leaving you where you are. You’ll be too big a liability for me to take along.” That was probably the wrong thing to tell her if I wanted her to loosen up, but I didn’t really care. There was no way I was going to act as anypony’s foalsitter.

The hallways were in much better shape than the tunnels. They still looked abandoned, but they were intact. No exposed girders, just a general dinginess present from floor to ceiling. Undisturbed dust lay on the ground, illuminated by yellow-tinted lights shining through hazy glass coverings. It honestly reminded me of some of the better-preserved wasteland facilities I had scoured for loot. The ones where it looked like everypony had simply vanished without shutting anything down. I had heard other scavvers describe them as "creepy." I suppose they had a point, but I always looked at those places as cap bonanzas. With my hacking abilities, more intact systems always meant more things to interact with, and more shit to swipe.

I glanced back to check on Dewdrop. She definitely looked frightened, but at least she wasn't complaining about it. She had her pistol out, held in her magic, and was sweeping it across the corridor as we trotted. Points for preparedness I guess, but there really was no need for it. It was weeks at the absolute minimum since any living thing had walked down these halls.

I quickened my pace. There was no need for stealth anymore; the nearest enemies were at least a floor away. Separated from us by layers of conduit and wiring, if the collapsed tunnels were anything to go by. I heard a sharp intake of breath from behind me, and then a panicked whisper: "Rusty! What are you doing?"

I felt no need to match her lack of volume. "Speeding up, Dew. The faster I get to this docking bay, the sooner I can get out of here."

"You're going to get us caught!"

I could have looked back and explained the reasons I knew we were alone on this floor. Instead, I kept up my pace. If she still wanted to take it slow, she could do so on her own. Good luck finding the bay without me.

"Uggggh!" she exclaimed as she galloped to catch up with me. "Why are you in such a hurry to get out?"

"Aren't you?"

"I want to leave, but it doesn't have to be right this second!

"Hon, I want to get this whole experience over with. As soon as I'm back home, I'm going to do my best to forget any of it ever happened."

A short pause as she pondered the implications of that statement. "Including me?" she asked, obviously dismayed.

"Yep."

"... Oh."

We arrived. The hallway dead-ended at a massive metal door, larger than any I had seen on the ship before. There didn’t appear to be a handle or lever to activate it, but there was a lone screen glowing beside it. My specialty. Dewdrop stared up at the door as I began my attempts to access the terminal.

The password was a long one. Good, longer generally meant easier to crack without triggering a lockout; it just took more time. As I worked, a question came to mind. “Dew, what exactly are we expecting to find in here?”

“What do you mean?” She tore her gaze from the door and looked over at me quizzically.

“I mean, we came here to escape, right? What sort of escape are we looking for?”

“Well, keep in mind this is just guessing from all the outer space stories I’ve read…”

“That’s fine, go on.” Guessing. Well, it was better than what I had.

“So. Since this is the only docking bay, we know everything that’s on board this ship had to come through here. With the possible exception of us, maybe they have a pony-sucking tube of some kind. And it all had to be transported to the ship somehow. So, they may have transport vessels that they kept here after they were done loading everything. Even if they don't, they must use some smaller craft to do things the main ship is too big for. So there has to be some sort of little spaceship in there that we can take to get back home! And with your hoof terminal thing, flying it should be a breeze!”

A breeze? Must be some pegasus expression. Speaking of, this could be my opportunity to get a little payback of my own. If this spaceship I was going to steal had weapons, I could roast a few birdies on my way back down. Show them what it’s like to be shit on from up high.

“Sounds logical enough.” And right then and there, I made it to the main menu. “Stand back a bit, Dew, we don’t know what’s on the other side.”

“Roger that, captain!” Was she quoting her fucking comic books again? This mare…

I activated the controls. An ear-piercing shriek emanated from the door as it split down the middle and the two halves retracted into the walls. If any noise was going to reach another level, this would be the one. Whatever; I’d be out of here soon enough.

The interior was dark, but slowly, one by one, ceiling lights far above us activated and gave us our first glimpse of the bay. It was enormous. At least four of the aliens’ levels high, and wider by far than even the cargo bay we had previously raided. More and more of the room was being exposed as we stepped through the door. Finally, it was bright enough to see what the bay contained.

Nothing.

“FUCK!” I put every ounce of anger I could into that one word. My hopes were gone. If the hallways outside hadn’t been used for years, this docking bay hadn’t seen activity for centuries. There was absolutely nothing I could use for escape. I saw a single active terminal on our side of the door, but everything else was in ruins. What might have once been shelving was now a misshapen mass of corroded metal lining the walls. I saw piles of rust corresponding to missing ceiling panels, and broken glass below lights that had shattered when I tried to activate them. A regular array of platforms leaning at insane angles, and charred parts of what might have been spacecraft at one time haphazardly strewn about.

But nothing that could bring me back to the wasteland.

Dewdrop appeared completely shocked. She was frantically looking around the room, tears beginning to build in her eyes. “I don’t get it! This isn’t right!”

“Dew.” She recoiled back from me, her expression turning to fear. I must have looked menacing. I felt menacing.

“Rusty, this is impossible! This is the only way off the ship! The only way! The aliens can’t leave from anywhere else, it has to be through here! They’d be just as stuck as we are!”

I advanced on her. “Rusty, what…?”

I hit her. My hoof cracked into the side of her jaw, sending her sprawling on the floor. “Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth!” I stood over her, hoof raised, ready to strike her again if she made a single move. “You fucked up! We wasted all this time coming up here, and there’s NOTHING! So now we’re going to do things my way. We are going to wherever the fuck there are more prisoners, we’re staging a massive jailbreak, and then we’re going to kill every single fucking alien we find and take this ship for ourselves. That’s how shit works back in the wasteland, and that’s what we should have been doing this entire fucking time!”

I turned away from her. “Get up. The only reason I’m keeping you around is so I can have an extra gun on my side. Otherwise you’d be fending for yourself. Now keep quiet. I need to get into this terminal so I can figure out where the prisoners are.”

I obviously wasn’t thinking too clearly. I was only considering the terminal I could see and not the one that I had already unlocked. And Dew was far too frightened to remind me otherwise.

Find password, enter it. Wait, what was this? It wasn’t letting me choose any options until I played a saved recording! Well, fuck it. I selected it: Subject G-37 Intake Recording.

Subject G-37

Race: Unicorn

Coat Color: Dk Purple

Mane Color: Gold

Eye Color: Blue

Magic Color: Blue

Cutie Mark: Scoll and Candle

Classification: Mystic, Equestria

Intake Recording Follows:

Yes, I understand; I shall speak as you direct.

Fair greetings to thou, I am Midnight Shower. I hail from the village of Brumbyshire, in which I have served twelve years as astrologer and chronicler. Indeed, my cutie mark, parchment illuminated by a single candle, indicates the pursuit of truth. I now find myself in the company of mysterious beings, vicious and unintelligible, whose dwelling-place appears to be among the stars. I know not how our fair Princess could allow such creatures to sully her domain, unless their magicks be far greater than hers and her sister’s together.

I confess I have spent an untold number of hours since my capture ruminating upon the nature of the world and Equinity’s position within. As astrologer, I predicted events set to befall our village and kingdom with unerring precision. Yet no star foretold the existence of these creatures. I am forced to ask myself whether our Princesses truly are all-powerful and fully benevolent, for what I have witnessed these past days refutes the teaching that they are both.

What shall become of me? I suspect I shall never be released; my captors certainly have no reason to reveal themselves by allowing knowledge of their presence to escape. And indeed, would I wish to share with ponykind that our most dearly-held beliefs are but lies? I thought it my duty to record and speak the truth no matter the subject or consequences, but such consequences! Is it nobler to fulfil my life’s purpose, or to disown it in the interest of preserving what ponies hath created? I have decided: even if given the opportunity, I shall not speak the truths that would see the foundations of our society crumble to dust.

Ah, the creatures appear to be indicating I have spoken enough. I, Midnight Shower of Brumbyshire, bid thee farewell.