Fallout Equestria: Mothership Eta

by Tunneling Carp

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Adventure, Violence, Crossover, Fallout, Human, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Original Character, Science Fiction
Length: 72250

A lone scavenger wakes up in a high-tech cell aboard an alien spacecraft. Stripped of everything but his barding, no idea where he is or who his captors are. Can he ever return to his life on the surface?

Rusty Rivet was a simple scavenger eking out an existence in the Equestrian wasteland. The amazing score he discovered? A trap. Now he's held captive by a race of monsters. He can't understand their language. He can't understand their motives. He has no idea where in Equestria he's been taken. All he knows is that he's imprisoned in a solitary cell with nopony looking for him. What's a resourceful scavver to do?

Published 2021-04-08 05:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-12-08 23:12:52 UTC

Chapter 1: Introductions

I opened my eyes and immediately shut them against the harsh white light. Not the most pleasant way to wake up, but compared to what could potentially befall a lone pony in the wasteland, I’d take it. I willed my eyes to crack open again. Finally, they were able to adjust enough that I could take in my surroundings.

I was unrestrained, and laying on what was, to my surprise, a rather comfortable padded cushion. Score one for the aliens, I suppose. I wasn’t in any pain, just a bit of discomfort in my fetlock, my flank, my… Oh. For fuck's sake, I thought the alien anal probe was just a trope! Of course, just a day ago I thought alien abductions were a trope too.

I fucking hate the wasteland sometimes.

At least the room itself was a step up from what I was used to. Surprisingly large, rooms this size were reserved for only the most powerful of ponies in any of the towns I had visited. It probably wasn’t too different in size from an apartment in Tenpony Tower, not that I had ever been able to see one for myself. Or would even have the opportunity to, now. Blinding lights ran around the tops of the walls. The walls themselves were completely undecorated. Same with the ceiling and floor. There was a doorway, but it was blocked by what appeared to be a clear, shimmering magical shield. A water trough opposite me, and what looked like a bowl sitting on a low shelf next to it. Another bowl on the ground: the aliens' version of an outhouse, judging by the faint stains inside.

So that was it. No hackable terminal, no lock to pick, no convenient ground-level vent that would grant me unfettered access anywhere in this ship. Just waiting for the freaky aliens to come back and do whatever it is they did with captured ponies. And… a voice?

"Hey! You awake yet? Say something!" Certainly didn’t sound like one of my captors.

"What?" I yelled back. "Is somepony there?"

"Oh, finally, you’re up! I knew you’d be up soon, they never use the heavy knockout juice on the newbies!"

I rubbed my head. This voice sounded much too excited given the circumstances.

"Newbies, hmm?” I replied. “I take it you’ve been here for a while?"

“Oh yes! I lost count of the days after they moved me from my first cell, but it was at least a couple hundred at that point. I think I was the first one in this wing. They didn’t like me talking to the others so much. They must be running out of room though, to put you next to me. Or they could be using it as a test, they really like doing those. Anypony’s guess, really. Oh, this is so exciting! My name’s Whispering Meadow, what’s yours?"

Whispering Meadow. Gotta love those ironic names. And of course I’d have to be stuck next to the chattiest pony in the wasteland.

Five days. Five days of his incessant blathering. Five days hearing his entire life story, and what had to be the life stories of everypony he'd ever met. The reason I'd struck out as a scavver was so I could have time away from social interactions, and now I was trapped next to a pony who seemingly couldn't exist without them. Even after the lights were dimmed for what I assume was supposed to be nighttime, the droning coming from the room next to me never. once. stopped.

I was able to at least pick up some useful details out of all the noise. The aliens spoke in some incomprehensible space-language, but there were a few words that almost sounded like they could have been Ponish. They had a rather large variety of creatures captured. Mostly ponies, but there were also griffons, zebras, donkeys, and a few even more exotic beings. What turned out to be the most important fact, though, came a couple hours after lights out on the third day.

"...Rose Leaf and Shadow had been going at it for an hour or so -- that's Shadow Heart the unicorn, not Shadowbeak the griffon -- and I guess Rose must've decided she'd finally had enough. I saw her step right up to Shadow and start beating the absolute hell out of her! Of course, she picked the absolute worst time to do it, there were four of the aliens in the hallway a few cells down. I had no idea they could run so fast on those two legs! They powered down the door and rushed in, and broke them up with those shocky stick things. Good thing too, since Rose had been saying she was going to snap her horn off if Shadow ever gave her a reason! Don't you think it's strange, they do whatever they want to us, but as soon as we do something to each other they fall all over themselves to break it up? Anyway, that was the last time I saw Rose in that wing. Now, Shadow -- the unicorn of course -- she…"

I stopped listening again as I realized something my obnoxious neighbor likely had never considered: there was a way to get the doors open!

The fifth day started out the same as the others. Wake to the cell lights piercing through my closed eyelids. Hear Meadow still talking at me through the wall. Get a drink from the trough and eat the tasteless gruel from the bowl that had been refilled overnight. Take a piss in the outhouse bowl. Sit through another day of ignoring my neighbor. But then… Another voice? Sounded angry. And Meadow actually shut up? What madness was this?

I angled my ears towards the door. I was finally able to pick up what the new voice was saying…

"Metu ŝi en tie, kun la bruna grundo ĉevaleto."

Gibberish. Must be the aliens. Wait, why was the shield over the door fading? I sprang to my hooves, only to see an unconscious blue unicorn mare unceremoniously shoved through the door. The aliens tossed a bundle of clothing in after her, and the shield activated again, all within a couple seconds.

Fuck. Well, I really shouldn't expect to get out the first time the door opens. Might as well check out my roommate.
Pretty young, probably just barely out of adolescence. Pale green mane and tail, rough coat on her forelegs and face. Pretty good condition for a wastelander. Maybe she was from a settlement? Cutie mark of what looked like razorgrain stalks. Certainly fit in with the settlement theory, and would explain the condition her front was in. I don't think even unicorns can handle razorgrain without it messing up their fur.

I settled down on my cushion to keep an eye on her. Sure enough, within a couple minutes she began to stir. Must be another newbie, if Meadow was telling the truth about recovery time. I moved over to her to block the worst of the lights, a small courtesy I know I would have appreciated when I first woke. An orange eye winked open. I spoke.

“Hi there, my name is…”

"Aaaaaaahh! Get away from me, you pervert!"

I backpedaled. "Whoa, what? What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what you did, freak! It's bad enough you rape me while I'm unconscious, but you use that hole? What's wrong with you?"

This conversation was not going the way I expected. "Calm down, I didn't even touch you! The aliens are the ones that did that!"

Her eyes narrowed. "Aliens. Right. Do I look like a foal to you?"

"I'm deadly serious," I replied. You had to have seen them. Tall, two legs?" She stared blankly at me. "Forelimbs with five little grabbers sticking out? Hairless except for the tops of their heads?" She shook her head no. "Didn't they have you speak into some kind of recording device?"

"None of that sounds familiar," she said. "Last thing I knew, I had just finished work in the upper fields and I was heading back to town. Then nothing until I woke up here with a sore ass and a freaky earth pony leering at me. Wait, you're an earth pony? How are you even able to speak? Oh no, I'm probably already infected!" Get back, I don’t want your surfacer diseases!”

“...Surfacer diseases?”

“Back! Brown rain, they'll never let me back into the Enclave! If you try to eat me, I swear I’ll geld you!”

This was certainly going well. I considered my options. On the one hoof, her attacking me would certainly bring guards and give me an opportunity for escape. On the other, more reasonable hoof, Celestia knows how long it would take for them to show up, and I didn’t want to risk being gelded. Plus, having her in on the escape attempt made it that much more likely to succeed. That settled it. I had to calm her down and get her to at least listen to my plan.

“All right, I’m backing up,” I said as I did so. “But I need you to explain something to me. Why do you think I’d try to eat you? I didn’t think I looked like a raider!”

"What the buck is a raider? Is that a surface mutant? And no, everypony on the surface is a cannibal! That’s why only the military goes down there!"

"All right, look," I said. "We’re obviously confused about each other, so let’s take a deep breath and I’ll explain what I can. If it makes sense to you, then you can do the same for me. Sound good?" She nodded. "Okay. I’m not a cannibal. The only ponies that eat other ponies are raiders and ferals. If I was a raider, the walls here would have a lot more cuss words carved into them. And if I was a feral, we wouldn't even be talking right now. Ferals don’t have conversations, and they have a lot of missing parts, understand?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “So maybe you aren’t going to eat me. But the diseases, you’re spreading those right now, right?”

I laughed. “Hon, I don't even have the genital variety. And even if I did, we already established I didn’t take the opportunity to infect you earlier.”

“...Fine. I’m trusting you for now, but I’m keeping my eye on you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Now, I’ve got some questions of my own. Why were you so surprised that I’m an earth pony?”

"I’ve never seen an earth pony before," she said, still sounding surprised. "It’s all pegasi and unicorns in the Enclave."

“PEGASI?!” I blurted. “Where the fuck do you live that there are pegasi?”

“In the Enclave, that’s what I said! You must know of the Grand Pegasus Enclave?”

I shook my head. Pegasi. This mare was full of surprises. “Let’s step back for a second. Where exactly in the wasteland do you come from?”

“It’s not the wasteland, it’s above the wasteland.”

“Above? So to the north? The Shattered Empire?”

“No, above above. The Enclave is everypony in the clouds above Old Equestria.”

“Wait.” This was making my head hurt. “Are you telling me you live in the clouds? Do you just have pegasi carry you around?”

"Of course not!" she said, sounding amused. "Every unicorn old enough to cast a spell knows how to cast cloudwalking! It’s either that or plummet miles to the ground; nopony's going after you if you fall through the stratus layers!"

They walk. On clouds. "You know, I’m just going to accept that I don’t understand anything about what you just told me, and maybe we can pick this up another time. For now, we should concentrate on where we are and what we can do about it."

"Okay." She looked around. "This doesn’t look like any facility I’ve ever heard of. You were saying something about aliens?"

"That’s the best explanation I have for the creatures keeping us here. We’re captive, and the only way out is through that doorway." She put on a thoughtful expression and started looking around the room. "Don’t bother. I’ve had five days to explore every crack in this room." And to be nearly driven insane by my neighbor, but that was beside the point. "We can’t drop the barrier from in here, so we need it to open from the outside. And I know exactly how we’re going to do that."

"Really. You have a friend out there all ready to help?"

I smirked. "Not exactly. Remember how you said you were going to geld me?"

I explained what we were going to do. At some point, my cellmate gained enough trust in me to share her name: Dewdrop. More trust was always good; we had to trust each other enough to make it look real without actually being real.
We waited for an hour before putting the plan fully into action. Based on what Meadow had told me, all we needed to do was beat on each other until the aliens came in to break us up. But I wanted to be sure. I couldn’t risk raising their suspicions. Whatever we did absolutely had to fool our captors. We started small. Glancing at each other across the room, then snarls at one another, followed by veiled threats, followed by actual threats. All this time, I kept an ear out for any passing alien patrols, which would signal the time we would “attack” each other in earnest. Miraculously, Whispering Meadow kept his Luna-damned mouth shut the entire time. I guess whatever the aliens were yelling at him earlier scared the absolute shit out of him.

Finally, I heard the oddly regular hoofbeats of an alien. Two, to be precise. I shot Dewdrop a glance, then took my place by the doorway. Our signal.

“That’s it! You’re dead!” Damn, she could yell! I braced myself as she slammed into me. It wasn’t full force, but it was enough to nearly knock me off my hooves! I staggered back, then reared up, screaming back at her. “Oh, it’s fucking on!” She dodged to the side as my hooves impacted the floor. I looked back to see her horn lighting up. I cringed back, but the light spell she had summoned missed me far to the left.

“Merduloj! Malhelpu ilin!”

Fuckers. There they were. I reared up to strike at her again, but made sure to angle my hindquarters towards the door. Sure enough, I heard the hum of the shield powering down. I glanced behind me as my front hooves hit the floor. Perfect. I put every bit of strength I had into my buck and caught my target right in the middle of its barrel. It made a groaning sound, then collapsed, the shock stick dropping harmlessly from its digits.

Dewdrop had cast her light spell right into the other alien’s eyes. Pretty good for a unicorn with limited knowledge of spells. As it was flailing around, I rammed my head directly between its legs. It let out a high pitched squeak, then collapsed into a ball. I wasted no time in aiming a final buck into its head. Something cracked beneath my hooves, and the alien lay still.

“That was incredible!” Dewdrop yelled. I checked behind me. The first alien was still writhing on the ground, and more importantly, the shield was still down! I stepped around the alien and picked up its weapon with my mouth. Its eyes opened wide as it recognized what I was about to do, but it was in no condition to stop me. I heard it cry as I brought the stick down: “Ne! Bonvolu!” Then nothing. Damn, these fuckers made a mess.

“Rusty? Are you okay? What’s going on over there?” I guess Meadow was willing to talk again. And here I was enjoying the break.

I tongued the stick’s trigger off and slid it into my barding. “I’m fine, Meadow. Me and my cellmate here just busted out!”

“Are you serious? Thank Celestia! Quick, come over here, I’ve got to show you something!”

I would have rather taken a bullet to the knee than talk to him any more, but Dewdrop was already on her way over to his cell.

“Hi there, I’m Dewdrop. Are you Rusty’s friend? It’s good to meet you!”

I sighed and trotted over next to her. Meadow stood on the other side of the shield, an enormous grin plastered across his face. He was holding something out towards us.

“Rusty! I never thought you’d make it out, but look at you! Listen, I’ve got something here. Take it, you can use it to get me out too!”

Dangling from his outstretched left hoof was a strap connected to… a terminal screen? “Meadow, what are you talking about?”

“It’s something the aliens stuck on me for one of their experiments. It plugs into their terminals and lets me read their language! And it can even talk back to the terminals! Take it, I know you said you were good with technology, and you can open this door for me!”

I looked at him quizzically. “Meadow, I think there’s a slight flaw in your plan. You do realize the barrier is still up, right?" He gazed back at me stupidly. This dumbass... "That gadget of yours has to be outside for me to use it. It's currently inside, and there's a great big barrier separating the inside from the outside. Understand now?"

"Ohhh, I get it!" Finally, something like intelligence coming from that idiotic face of his. I turned to continue down the hallway, but stopped as he kept talking. Motherfucker... "See, that’s the thing about these shields,” he said. “Stuff like this can pass through the door with no problem! It only stops living things! Watch!”

The device flew through the barrier and landed right at my hooves. Huh. Selective shields. Pretty impressive. I picked it up and attached it to my right foreleg.

“Okay, that’s step one,” I said. “Now how do I…”

“There’s a terminal to the side of the door, just hold your leg close to it and it’ll translate what’s on the screen! You can hack into it and get me out!”

I rolled my eyes. “Meadow, this is alien technology. The chances of me being able to successfully hack into it…” I paused as I waved my hoof in his direction and the familiar password protocol screen appeared on the device. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“Did it work? Can you hack it?”

“Yeah, just give me a second.” Pretty simple five character password. Not that one, but two letters correct. That one? Yes! “Got it!”

“All right, Rusty! You’re the greatest! Finally, freedom!”

I entered the main menu and scrolled through the options. There it was. Now, select, confirm, and…

The concealed ceiling turret popped down and fired a single blast of energy. Whispering Meadow’s body crumbled to ash, his head the last to go. Enjoy your freedom, asshole.

Chapter 2: Taking Stock

I tried not to look too smug as Dewdrop turned towards me, a shocked look on her face. “Rusty? What happened?”

“Security lockout,” I lied. “I must have tripped something when I tried to access the door.” That's right, hon, not my fault at all.

Dewdrop’s eyes started to moisten. “No… He was so close to getting out!”

I turned away from the terminal and started to head down the hallway. “Rusty, where are you going?” Dewdrop called out.

“We’ve got to find a hiding spot before more of them show up!”

“We can’t just leave him!” she said, as tears started to blossom from her eyes.

“Dewdrop, it’s the wasteland. Death happens. Get used to it.”

“We’re not in the bucking wasteland!”

Dammit. If she got any louder they'd be able to hear her all the way in Manehattan! I had to calm her down quick. I just hoped my acting skills were up to the challenge.

“Dew, listen to me. There’s nothing we can do. I’m sorry he’s gone.” I totally wasn’t. “But he’d want us to make the most of our own escape.” No, he’d want to talk incessantly until we were inevitably discovered and recaptured. “We can mourn him later, but we need to go now!” Mourn. Right. I’d be doing my best to purge my memory of that obnoxious jackass.

“All… All right.” She gave a final sniffle. “Where are we going?”

Finally. “We need to get out of the immediate area and find somewhere to hole up,” I told her. I started galloping towards the T-junction at the near end of the hall. “Keep an eye out for ventilation ducts or service tunnels. We don’t want to be cornered, so side rooms are a last-ditch option.” I reached the junction just ahead of Dewdrop and craned my neck around the corner. Good, no aliens in either direction. I arbitrarily chose the left hallway, and continued my flight, assuming Dewdrop would follow.

I was nearly to the next junction when I heard Dewdrop shout from behind me. “Rusty, wait!”

"Dammit, not so loud!" I hissed. "The fuck do you…" She stood, pointing at a handle attached to a small hatch with some indescribable alien script above it. "Oh." How had I missed that? "Good catch. Is it unlocked?"

Dewdrop gave a small smirk in response and pushed the hatch with her hoof. Not even latched? Whatever these aliens’ goals were, security was not high on their priority list.

I galloped back over to her. "Dew, you’re a lifesaver!" I tried to give her a quick hug, but she shied away from it. Right, probably still torn up over Meadow. Note to self: avoid mentioning death around her.

“Sorry,” I told her. “Good find. Let’s go.” I reached my hoof up to push the hatch open.

*bzzz*

What? Why was my leg vibrating? I looked down and noticed the alien device attached to my leg lit up with text: Freight transport access point. Did it just translate the sign? Damn, this thing was useful!

“Rusty? What is it?”

“Our hiding spot,” I grinned.

The goddesses themselves couldn’t have given us a better find. The advantage of having such large captors was that this network of tunnels, too small for the aliens themselves to fit into, was large enough that we could trot comfortably if we kept our heads slightly lowered. And the width! Two cog railway tracks ran parallel to each other, each wide enough to fit us both side by side if personal space was no issue. Even when we ran into one of the transport carts coming our way, we were just able to step over to the other track. Compared to my times hiding in ruins from guards or raiders, this was absolute heaven!

We took a meandering path through the tunnels, avoiding any exits back to the alien-sized hallways, and eventually came to what looked to be a cart storage area: wide, high, dimly lit, with shelves of carts stacked floor to ceiling. I stopped in the middle of the room, far from any tracks. This seemed like a good enough spot to catch our bearings. “Dewdrop," I asked her as she stepped into the safe area beside me, "are you doing okay?”

“Better now,” she replied. “What are we doing? Is there a plan? We’re not just going to hide here forever, are we?”

“One thing at a time,” I said. I had been contemplating a basic plan during our trek to this safe haven, and now was a good enough time as any to share with my temporary partner. "We have a hiding place, so now we need to work on getting food and water. After that, some better weapons. I've never been much good with melee weapons, and I imagine there wasn't much call for them in this 'Enclave' of yours. Am I right?" She nodded in confirmation. "Figured."

"Weapons definitely need to be our next step," I continued. "Then we need to either find a map or do enough exploring that we have some idea where we’re going. That’s when we can think about getting out of these tunnels and finding a way off this damn ship!"

“All right,” she replied. “How do we get food and water?”

“Just wait,” I said. I trotted up to one of the tunnels entering the room and held my front hoof up to the sign posted beside it. *bzzz* Cargo: Provisions. First try! “Come on, Dew, this way!”

We followed the tunnel, stopping at every intersection to translate directions. I had lost count how many intersections we had passed, when I noticed Dewdrop falling further and further behind me. I glanced back at her. It was tough to tell in the dim light, but she looked worried. And… contemplative?

"Dew?" I called back. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, um, Rusty?" It sounded like I had just snapped her out of a daze. "Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”

I stopped walking forward and turned to face her. “Dew, hon, right now we’re trapped in a facility filled with hostile creatures. If there’s something going on, you need to share it. We’re not going to make it far if you’re keeping things from me.”

“You're right, Rusty, I'm sorry,” Dewdrop replied. “I need to ask you: how long have we been walking?”

That was certainly an odd question. “I’d say about half an hour, why?”

“Rusty, we’ve been going in the same direction since we left our cell. I’ve kept track. And I know we’re not making the best time, but this is the biggest facility I’ve ever heard of! We’re not even to our destination yet! And like you said, there’s aliens that want to kill us all over the place! With how big this is, there have to be hundreds! What kind of chance do we have?”

She was intimidated. And she had good reason to be. Admittedly, I was intimidated as well, but unlike her, I had years of practice in dealing with that intimidation. The wasteland bred resiliency, and I had a lifetime of it saved under my coat. Well, I thought, time to share. A more competent mare keeping an extra eye out made my own chances go up drastically.

“Dewdrop, you’re right. We probably don’t have a prayer. But probably isn’t the same as definitely. Do you remember the list of tasks I shared with you?”

“I think so,” she replied nervously. “At least parts of it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not giving you a quiz.” She smiled a little at that. Good, that meant she hadn't completely given up hope. I could work with this. “Those tasks had a purpose beyond getting us what we need to survive. They make it so we don’t have to look at the big picture. Finding food sounds a lot more doable than fighting off hundreds of aliens, right?”

She still looked unconvinced. “Dew, let me share a story with you.

“Once upon a time, I was a little tiny Rivet. A Rivetini. And I was a brave new scavenger, going out on my first solo expedition to the Whinnyapolis ruins. I was hoping to find something that would make me a fortune! Do you know what I found instead?” She shook her head. “Raiders. A whole crew. At least fifteen of them were using the collapsed school I was in as their camp. They showed up just as I had started filling my first saddlebag with loot.”

“This is the second time you’ve mentioned raiders,” Dewdrop interjected. “Am I supposed to know what they are?”

“I guess not,” I replied. “Raiders are gangs of the worst of ponies. They’ll attack anything that isn’t in their gang: traders, villagers, other raiders. Anything. They steal whatever they can get their hooves on. If you don’t have anything valuable you can give them, they’ll take you instead. Sometimes they’ll take you even if you do have something valuable. And being captured by a raider is the worst punishment the wasteland can throw at you. They’ll torture you, rape you, mutilate you. Even eat you. You can always tell their camps from the flayed pony carcasses strewn around. I was just too clueless at the time to recognize the signs.

“So I was hiding in a classroom behind a desk, scared shitless, with raiders patrolling the hallways around me. I was probably even more scared than you are now! But I knew the only way I would get out of that situation was if I did it myself. I had nopony to come rescue me. I set a goal: make it to the classroom doorway without being spotted. Once I managed that, I had a new goal: get across the hallway. It was small steps that slowly brought me closer to my escape.”

"And it worked, right?" she asked. "You escaped?" I looked at her incredulously. “Oh. Right. Of course you did. But was that it? You sneaked past all those raiders?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “Turns out I did have some outside help I wasn't expecting. Just as I reached a set of windows overlooking the street outside, I heard gunshots. I peeked out the window, and saw five of the raiders firing at a shielded creature in the sky. More of the raiders were rushing towards it, and as I watched, it begin to shoot magic back at them. It was a damn alicorn that just happened to appear right when I needed a distraction!”

“An alicorn?” Dewdrop’s mouth was agape. “You mean like one of the princesses?”

It was oddly refreshing to not hear those creatures referred to as goddesses. “Like the princesses, yes, but this one was pure green. Not actually a princess. Still looked pretty powerful though.”

“So the alicorn killed the raiders and let you escape?”

I laughed at that. “No, that alicorn got ripped to shreds! She looked powerful, but that shield of hers wasn’t worth a damn. They were just using crappy pipe weapons, but it was enough. She was only able to fire a few blasts at them before the shots took her head off! But she distracted the raiders enough that I was able to haul ass in the other direction and get back to safety!”

She looked a little queasy at that. Time to get back on track.

“The point is, I never would have made it to that window and realized I could escape without taking those foal steps first. That’s the secret of surviving in the wasteland. There’s always the chance today could be the day that you finally die, but you can’t control that. You need to focus on the small things that you can control. You keep making those small victories. Leave the big worries to the ponies that can do something about them.”

She visibly swallowed, then nodded. Nervous, but significantly less so. “I get it. Let’s keep pressing forward.”

I turned back around and proceeded to the next intersection. *bzzz* Left this time. “You know, what you said reminded me a lot of the Enclave,” Dewdrop continued. “Every once in a while there are these massive threats that pop up, but our mayor always says, ‘Keep doing your own work, support the Enclave the way you’re best at. Keep our soldiers going, so they can keep you going!’ And that’s exactly it! I can focus on farming, and our soldiers ooof!”

Dewdrop walked straight into my hindquarters, but I didn’t care. I was too busy staring at the rows and rows of stacked crates, extending far above me.

“Rusty, is that what I think it is?”

“Yep. We’re here.”

No signs of aliens anywhere near us. We broke into huge grins as we raced towards the nearest crate. I brought up my hoof device. *bzzz* Freeze-dried breaded fowl: ancient lizard shapes. Pass. The next one. Hilltop Condensation? No idea. The third. Grain noodles, dehydrated flavoring. Bingo! “Dew, I think I found something! Help me get this thing open!”

“Allow me,” she said as her horn lit up. The lid slid open. We raised our heads over the crate’s side and were greeted by an array of orange and white cylinders. “Perfect!” I exclaimed. “Now all we need is something to drink.”

“Ahem.” Dewdrop’s horn lit up again, and an identical glow appeared on the wall near where we had entered the room. The purest water I had ever seen was flowing from a spigot under the handle her magic was manipulating.

“Dew, I have no idea what I ever did without you!” A little false praise never hurt anypony. I would have seen that spigot on my own, easy.

I took a cylinder in my mouth and started trotting towards the water source. Dewdrop’s magic faded from the handle and lit up behind me as she presumably levitated her own cylinder out. Suddenly, I heard multiple thuds. I looked back and saw her still standing at the crate, surrounded by dozens of noodle containers.

Dammit, Dew, what the fuck happened to stealth? “Take it easy,” I called over to her. “There’s no need to get that excited!”

“Rusty?” She sounded concerned. “You better take a look at this!”

I returned to the crate and peered inside. I expected to see another layer of paper-covered containers. Instead, what greeted me was metallic. A collection of shock sticks, scaled-down versions of the cell turret’s emitter coil, what looked like alien-sized helmets: definitely not food!

This made no sense. I looked over to Dewdrop. She stared back at me. I finally found my voice: “What the fuck are weapons doing in the food supplies?”

Chapter 3: Connections

Weapons. Stored with food. The crate was clearly labelled, no mention of weapons anywhere. “This has to be some kind of crazy alien thing, Dew,” I told her. “I bet all their crates have weapons in them. Whatever messed-up minds they’ve got must’ve told them, ‘Hey, let’s combine the armory and the food supplies!’ But great, that’s another task checked off. Give me a boost and I’ll toss out what we can use!”

With Dewdrop’s help I clambered into the crate and inspected our find. Dew could certainly use a shock stick. I tossed one over the edge. The turret-looking things turned out, upon closer inspection, to more closely resemble energy weapons: pistols and rifles. I had only seen a few examples of such weapons in my lifetime, but I could definitely recognize the energizer coils and mouthgrips. The pistols were half the length of my body, but usable. There was no way anypony but a Steel Ranger could operate the rifles; they were far too big to use without power armor. A pistol for each of us went over the side.

The layer below was packed full of small oblong objects. Each one appeared to have two shiny dots on the top. Contacts? Were these batteries? I brought one over to the hole at the end of a pistol’s mouthgrip. Looked like a perfect fit. I slid it in, contacts first. It clicked into place and, with an almost imperceptible hum, lights along the weapon's body illuminated. Yep, definitely batteries. I filled the remaining pockets in my barding, and tossed a few out to Dewdrop as well. I ignored the armor. No way it could possibly fit us anyway.

I climbed back out of the crate to find Dewdrop staring down at the pistols with a concerned expression. “Rusty, are you expecting me to use these?”

“...Yes?”

“Rusty, I can’t! I’m a farmer, I never had weapons training!”

Weapons training. This mare… “Dew, almost nopony in the wasteland has any sort of weapons training. You don’t need to be an expert, you just need to know how to make it shoot. That part’s simple enough. You just hold --” I maneuvered the mouthgrip between my teeth “-- and fire!”

I tongued the trigger. Or at least I tried to. There was something in the way, something that certainly didn’t feel like a trigger. I released the grip. The fuck? Why was there a guard in front of the trigger? I couldn’t fit my tongue through it! And the guard was firmly attached to the casing, there was no way I could remove it!

Of course. Those fucking aliens and their tiny little digits. Those grabbers of theirs could activate the trigger just fine, but a pony tongue was just too fat to reach it!

“Okay, slight problem.” Dewdrop looked at me quizzically. “I’m actually not able to use this. You’ll be fine with your magic, but this gun will need to spend some quality time with Mister Hacksaw before I can do anything with it.”

“You want me to shoot a deadly weapon and you can’t even show me what to do with it? Are you insane?”

I'm getting there. “Dew, listen. If we ever get into a straight-up fight with these aliens, we’ll be slaughtered if all we have is melee weapons and your light spell. I can’t shoot this gun, and unless I find a way to get rid of this stupid guard, you’ll have to mare up and figure out how to use it.”

“Rusty…”

“Dewdrop. You may have been a farmer before, but right now you need to step past that. We don’t have any other options. There’s heaps of ammo, a nice isolated tunnel to practice in, and plenty of time to get used to it. I need you to be willing to pick up the gun and just try. Can you do that?”

She definitely looked fearful, but she slowly nodded in response. “Thank you, Dew. I can’t do this without you.” That was definitely a lie. I just needed something to get her to pull her head out of her ass. Almost made me wonder if working in a team was worth it. As soon as I got myself a gun I could actually use, I would definitely be reconsidering our partnership.

We brought our first meal back to the transport tunnel. There was always the danger of being run over by oncoming carts, but it was far less than the danger we faced if discovered by aliens. We ate in silence. Dew was focused on her food, but I noticed her occasionally sneaking glances over to the pistol I had taken with us. Was she warming up to the idea or eyeing it nervously? Celestia, I sure hoped it was the former.

I waited for her to finish the last of her noodles before approaching the subject again. "All right, Dew, it's crash course time. Let's get our learn on." She rolled her eyes, then gave a single nod. "Here, catch!" I tossed the unloaded pistol at her head, which she caught and turned over clumsily with her magic.

Wait. That wasn't clumsy at all! Was she sighting down the barrel? And did I just see the trigger move? I was suddenly grateful I had kept the pistol unloaded.

"Dew, I thought you said you had no idea how to use a pistol!"

"What? I never said that! I've never used a weapon, but this is just like the water guns we used to play with when I was a filly!"

"...what kind of guns?"

"You know, water guns!" She looked at me like she expected me to recognize the concept of combining water with weaponry. "...You don't know?" she asked disbelievingly. "…Plastic guns that you can shoot water out of? …What the hay did you play with as a colt?"

"Play? The only games I played were 'hide from the raider' and 'outrun the ferals' What the hay kind of fillyhood did you have?"

"Oh, it was great! Like with the water pistols, the pegasus colts would fly by and shoot me from above, and I would hide behind a cloud and ambush them when they landed! Things like that, with my friends! Are you telling me you never did anything fun?"

Fun. "Fun was for town ponies. My mom and I were never able to stay in town for long. And outside of town, you only worried about survival. No, Dewdrop, I never did anything fun." My tone was harsh, but I didn't care. Her poking was bringing me uncomfortably close to some dark memories I thought I had hidden away forever. Better to shut down this line of questioning, and damn the consequences. And if I lost my companion already? Fuck it. I had made it out of dire situations on my own plenty of times.

"Rusty, I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I just was… I… Oh, horsefeathers." I turned away from her and sank to my haunches. We both sat in silence for quite a while.

Dewdrop was the first to break the silence. "Um, Rusty?"

I suppose I had let her stew in her own mistakes long enough. I glanced over at her.

She broke eye contact immediately, then sheepishly raised her eyes to meet mine. "Do you think you could help me with target practice?"

"Yeah, Dew, let's get you set up." I tossed her a battery. "Load that in the mouthgrip and I'll head back and grab some targets. Don't shoot anything until I get back."

She nodded and started to insert a battery. The wrong way. "Contacts go in first, hon."

"Oh. Sorry…"

I trotted out of the tunnel and up to the noodle crate. The lid would make a big enough target, and there were smaller circular features imprinted on it that would work for more precise aiming. I took the lid in my teeth and dragged it to the tunnel's mouth. Surprisingly, even though it was longer and wider than both Dewdrop and I standing nose to tail, it wasn't particularly heavy. I absently wondered if it was cloud-based, like the technology I had once read about in a hacked terminal.

I propped the lid against the tunnel's opening. Hmm, it covered the exit pretty well. As long as no carts came through, we'd be completely hidden in here. Something to think about.

I returned to Dewdrop, who had miraculously managed to correctly load the pistol without ruining it. There were green lights arranged in mysterious designs at the grip end of the barrel, just the same as on mine. I held my hoof device up to it. …Nothing? Must be decorative.

"All right, Dew, I want you to take a few shots at that lid. Don't aim for anything in particular, I just want you to get a feel for the gun."

"Got it," she said, and squeezed the trigger. KRACKOW! A bright white beam emerged from the muzzle and impacted the lid. Right in the middle, I noticed. It's odd, I always thought energy weapons would have a more melodic sound. She fired three more times, each one hitting at nearly the same spot.

"Pretty good, Dew," I told her. Let's see you hit that top left circle. Same number of shots."

She fired again. Four shots, overlapping remarkably well from a distance of five lengths. "Not bad at all. Let's move back a bit and try for another area."

All that practice with the water guns must have been worthwhile. She wasn't what I would call a crack shot, not even close, but for a beginner she was quite competent. I just hoped her skill would hold up in actual combat.

"Rusty?" she asked. "A couple lights changed color, I think it might be an ammunition counter?"

I looked where she was indicating. There were five lights in a straight line, two of which were red. I knew there had been no red lights when the pistol first powered up. Let's see, two out of five lights, combined with maybe 40, 50 shots… "That thing's got a 100 round mag!"

"Is that a lot?"

"Fuck yeah that’s a lot! You’d never see that in a pistol, you’d have to get a belt-fed rifle for that! And even then you’d only be able to carry maybe three belts with you. Shit, I must have two thousand rounds in my pockets now!”

“So that means we can carry a lot more other things, right?” Okay, I was slightly impressed. She was picking up the basics of scavenging quick!

“You got it, Dew. I thought we’d have to use this area as a base and keep coming back here for food and water, but fuck, now, we can take all that shit with us!”

My scavver senses were going crazy. The amount of weapons and ammo in that one crate was astounding. If I could get that crate back to the wasteland, I’d be set for life. Shit, with how rare energy weapons were, I could build a house out of caps and still be able to retire! Maybe this alien abduction would work out after all!

“Come on,” I called out to Dewdrop as I turned back to the storage area. “Let’s head back to the cargo room and trade out these extra batteries for some snacks!”

We trotted back to the crate we had previously looted and exchanged most of our batteries for more noodle cups. I wasn’t particularly worried about our theft being discovered after the fact. With how gigantic this storage room was, the chances of one of the aliens checking this particular crate were practically nil. Even if they did, all the communications dating from wartime Equestria I had read indicated that any missing items would automatically be chalked up to profiteering or skimming. I had no reason to assume things would be any different here. Corruption was universal.

The one thing we still needed, though, was a way to bring water with us. Empty noodle cups wouldn’t work; there was no way to seal them back up after they were opened. I glanced over to the crate next to the one we had opened. What had that label said? Something about condensation? Would be worth a look.

I used my forehooves to slide the condensation crate’s lid to the back and peered in. Perfect! It was completely packed with green screw-top bottles filled with some kind of liquid. A little like Sparkle-Cola, except the bottles definitely weren’t glass. Were they using plastic to make these? And the caps were plastic too. Worthless. No trader in the wasteland would ever accept them.

I pulled a bottle out in my mouth and unscrewed the cap with my teeth. I was immediately hit with an overwhelming sickly sweet odor and I quickly placed the bottle on the ground. I sensed a taste slightly reminiscent of Rad-Away as well. Was this a magical potion? Those tiny bubbles forming throughout the liquid and racing to the surface certainly indicated so, but this was nothing like any potion I’d ever seen. Maybe alien potions were different, who knows what they were capable of cooking up.

“Dew, I think we’ll be able to use these to carry water with us. I don’t know what’s in them, but if we rinse them out well enough we should be able to get rid of the junk that’s in there now.” There was no way I would ever consider drinking this stuff. Anything smelling that sweet had to be deathly toxic, even if there were healing energies in it.

Dewdrop reactivated the spigot and we thoroughly rinsed out two bottles each. With the size of these bottles, we’d have enough water for days! I also took the opportunity to remove my barding and wash under the purest water I had ever seen. Dewdrop had remarked earlier that I smelled "utterly rank," and to be honest I wasn't going to pass up my first-ever opportunity to bathe in non-irradiated water. It was an amazing feeling, taking as long a time as I wanted under the admittedly cold stream, and even letting myself drink my fill. That was something I had had to train myself to avoid back in the wasteland. Radiation sickness was no joke.

Dew took a turn under the water after me. She honestly looked like a little filly, splashing and prancing around under the stream. Come to think of it, I doubt I had looked much different.

"Wow!" She was all smiles as turned off the faucet and shook herself off. "That's way better than a cloud bath!"

Cloud bath. “You’re going to have to explain some things to me, Dew. Are you saying you washed with clouds where you came from?”

“Well, sure! Liquid water isn’t all that common up in the clouds, and it’s mostly used for drinking or maintaining the stratus layer. But that layer’s under military control, so we’re stuck using the cumulus layer for crops and buildings, and any alto clouds we can grab for personal use. We usually can’t get much moisture out of them, though, and cirrus are way too high to bother trying to get. Yeah, liquid baths are the way to go!”

Smile and nod. There were way too many bizarre words in her explanation for me to bother trying to understand. Just accept that cloud baths were a thing, and move on.

“All right. Dew, I’m going to need to ask something of you.” She looked at me quizzically. “I’m actually pretty beat right now. I’ve been up for a while and I just need a quick nap before we move on. I don’t want to get run over while I’m asleep, so I’m going to have to sleep in this room. But that means I’m in danger of being discovered. I need you to stay here and keep a lookout for any aliens, and wake me up the second you think one might spot me. Got it?”

“Of course, Rusty! You’ll be safe and sound with Dewdrop on the job!”

Good filly. Wow, why was I so tired? I suppose five days of doing absolutely nothing would ruin anypony’s endurance. And I bet the sleep I did get was constantly interrupted by my asshole neighbor’s constant blathering. I hope he’s burning in Tartarus right now. I placed my barding on the floor as a makeshift pillow and fell fast asleep.

I woke up feeling remarkably refreshed. Dewdrop must have been watching for me to open my eyes, because she immediately bounded over and dropped something in front of my muzzle. “Rusty, look, I found you something!”

“Dew? What did you find?” All I could make out was a pair of handles.

“It’s a pair of shears! I know you said you weren’t able to shoot the pistol with that guard in the way, so I found something to get rid of it for you! Now we’ll both be able to shoot!”

That was certainly useful. And I wondered what other kinds of tools these aliens had. “Thanks, Dew. Where did you find these?”

“A few rows down. I didn’t have your hoof translator thing, so I had to check each box individually before I found anything. They have a lot of stuff here!”

That was probably an understatement. The amount of things they would need to keep a place like this running… wait. What did she say?

“You went a few rows down while I was sleeping?” What the fuck? “What happened to staying here and watching me?”

“I mean, I was still watching you, mostly. I peeked back every few minutes to make sure you were still okay, and I would have heard any aliens coming.”

“Dammit, Dew!” I wasn’t able to yell, but I made sure to lace my words with every bit of fury I felt. “If I tell you to watch over me, that means you fucking watch over me! You don’t go wandering off leaving me to be captured again while I’m asleep! Shit, you could at least have woken me up so I could go sleep in one of those crates, out of the way! Instead, I’m easy pickings for whatever alien decides to poke its head down this aisle! For fuck's sake, what were you thinking?”

She looked ready to cry. Good. This bitch was getting to be more trouble than she was worth. One more fuckup like this and I’d be leaving her to fend for herself.

“Rusty, I’m sorry!” And there came the tears. “After all the help you’ve given me, I just wanted to do something for you! I didn’t leave you, honest! Please don’t be angry, you’re the only friend I’ve got here!”

Friend? Hardly. “Listen. I’m going to sit here and get the guard off this pistol.” I gestured with my hoof. “You are going to stand in this aisle and keep a lookout. And I fucking mean it. No wandering, no nothing. You stand there until I tell you otherwise.”

“O...Okay, Rusty.” I turned away from her and took the snippers in my mouth. I could hear her occasionally sniffling behind me as I worked at cutting the trigger guard away. This is why I preferred to work alone. You just couldn’t trust anypony else to handle anything other than the simplest of tasks. But for something as easy as keeping watch? I’d worked with some sketchy ponies in the past, but they could at the very least handle watch duty. This mare was easily the most incompetent pony I’d ever partnered up with. I had a feeling the straw that broke the proverbial brahmin’s back would be arriving very soon.

The snippers were a useful tool, but I would have loved to get my hooves on a file. Sharp edges near mouthgrips were a great way to end up with a mouthful of blood. There was no way I was going to justify Dewdrop’s earlier actions by asking where she had found the snippers, though. I had done enough already just by accepting them. I did my best to work the remnants loose with the snippers, and I’d say I did a pretty bang-up job. I gave the trigger a test tonguing. Good to go.

“Dew, I’m finished working on this. I’m going to take a few test shots on my own, and then we can head out.”

“All right…" Her head was hung in shame. "Rusty, I’m really sorry about leaving you.”

“You should be sorry,” I said as I headed towards the makeshift firing range. “This all is apparently new to you, but I need you to recognize we’re in the middle of hostile territory, and shit like that could be the end of both of us. I need you to promise me, the next time I tell you to do something, you follow it to the letter. Got it?”

“Rusty, I solemnly swear on my grandmare’s ashes that I’ll follow your instructions from now on. You’re the expert and I’m just a dumb farmer that got caught up in something she can’t handle. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Good enough.” I aimed at our target and tongued the trigger. KRACKOW! Damn, this thing had almost no recoil! Energy guns were definitely a step up from my old semiauto. I checked where my shot had landed. Not where I was expecting, I had pulled down and to the right. I loosed a couple more shots. Still off-target. I suppose weapons intended for aliens weren’t designed so earth ponies could easily aim them. I could barely even see the ironsights with the way I had to hold the pistol!

I must have gone through nearly as many shots as Dewdrop had before I felt comfortable enough with my new weapon. If I had hoped to impress her with my wastelander combat skills, I was failing miserably. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to be judging my aim. I placed the pistol barrel-first in my leg holster. It was a tight fit, but I would still be able to draw it out quickly enough if necessary.

Dewdrop was waiting patiently by the tunnel entrance for me. Her own pistol was tucked in a slit behind her neck. Awkward positioning, but I suppose it didn’t matter as much for unicorns. I nodded to her. “I think I’m set. Are you ready to head out?”

She nodded back. “But where exactly are we going, anyway?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about that,” I told her. “It would still be good to find a map, but with this little device…” I shook my foreleg at her. “...we can navigate the tunnels without too much trouble. My first thought was heading to a cell block like the one we came from and releasing some ponies to help us out, but that would bring us straight to the one place we know for sure there are armed aliens.”

“Plus there’s the chance you could activate the security system again while trying to break them out.”

That’s right, she still thought that was an accident. Well, no need to correct her. “That is a concern, though I think I've learned how to avoid that. But I realized, the best place to find a map, that would also be the least likely place that our two-legged friends would be armed? The sleeping quarters. We might even luck out and catch them while they’re sleeping!”

“You’re not looking to kill them when they’re sleeping, are you?” She looked shocked, but almost immediately transitioned to sheepish. “I mean, you know what you’re doing far more than I do, so I’ll follow your lead, of course...”

Good save there, Dew. “I don’t think killing them would be productive at this point. We’d have to hide the body… or ashes, I suppose… and missing crew would give them a clue as to where we are. No, we need to do our best to not kill anything that isn’t an immediate danger to us.”

She looked visibly relieved. “Anyway,” I continued, “I’ll follow the tunnels and keep an eye out for any sign that could indicate crew quarters. There has to be something along those lines hidden in that maze.”

The good news was, I picked up the trail almost immediately after we started. *bzzz* Sleeping Berths. The bad news was, the trail just as quickly disappeared into the floor below us. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but we were going to have to leave the level we were currently on. I suppose we were lucky not to have to change levels on our way to the cargo hold.

I peered down the shaft. The cart tracks continued from the floor to the walls, and the bottom didn’t look terribly distant. Still, it would be better not to have to drop all the way down.

“Dew, how good is your levitation?” I asked her. “Can you at least slow me down on my way down there?”

She nodded. “I don’t know if I can fully support you, but you definitely won’t go ‘splat.’”

“Let’s do that. Let me go first, then I can catch you once I’m at the bottom.”

The plan worked. Annoyingly, we had to repeat the maneuver twice more on the way to our destination. I was just glad we never had to go up a shaft. We were completely unprepared for such an event. That was something I would have to fix as soon as possible.

Finally, we reached a hatch that seemed identical to the hallway junctions we had passed through previously. I pressed on the handle and pushed the door open just a crack. Bright light poured through the gap at the bottom of the hatch. I dropped my head to the floor and scanned the exterior as my eyes adjusted to the change in lighting. We had reached another hallway, this time with metallic doors evenly spaced along its length instead of magical shields. No sign of aliens in either direction.

“Dew, I think we’re good,” I whispered. “We’re going to head down this hallway and keep a lookout for any terminals I can access. Don’t open any doors unless I tell you; we have no idea what’s on the other side.”

She nodded to me and I pushed the hatch fully open. I held it for her as she exited, and then gently lowered it to its original position. This was one place we couldn’t afford any extra noise.

We crept towards the nearest intersection, a four-way crossing. I didn’t see any terminals, but hopefully there would be something down one of the other hallways. I had just passed the second-to-last door before the intersection when I heard the strange intonation of alien speech coming from ahead of us. Shit!

“Into the room, now!” I hissed. Dew reacted immediately and reached out with her magic to activate the door. It slid open as she pressed the button and we tumbled through as quickly as we could. The door hissed closed behind us. Thank the goddesses, this room was unoccupied. I pulled out my pistol as I turned to face the door. If the aliens had detected us, I wanted to make sure I got the first shot off.

The voices were getting closer. Please, I prayed, don’t let them find us here. It was very easy to find religion in a situation like this. I began to pick up what they were saying.

“Vi estas freneza! Ĉielarko Kurego neniigus absolute Krepusko Brileto en batalo!”

“Krepusko normala eble, frato. Sed Krepusko alicorn murdus Ĉielarko!”

“Krepusko neniam fariĝis alicorn, kreteno!”

Good, they were moving away. Were they talking about alicorns? This must be where those things were all coming from! What were the chances these asshole aliens would be the reason I had survived my first solo trip? The wasteland certainly spawned some strange coincidences.

“Rusty, what do you make of this?” Dewdrop whispered. I turned to Dewdrop and saw her gaping at the wall. I followed her stare… What the fuck? There was an enormous poster of one of the ministry mares! I glanced around the room. A smaller painting of Celestia and Luna, a drawing of a prewar building in the shape of a cupcake, a photo of the Canterlot ruins… There was something seriously strange going on here!

“I have no idea! Are… are they idolizing ponies? What the fuck kind of aliens are these?!” My eyes finally picked out the glow of a terminal in the corner of the room, partially hidden by the mass of the gigantic bedframe in the center. “This is too bizarre. I’m going to try to find a map before I go completely insane!”

The terminal wasn’t even locked. The main menu popped up as soon as I connected my hoof device to the interface cable. These aliens were making things far too easy for me. I scrolled through the options on the terminal as my own screen kept up a running translation. Finally, I found it. A file promising to hold a full map of the spaceship. An option appeared: Download to external device. Just what I needed! I selected the map file.

Error: Invalid permissions. “Dammit!” I slammed my hoof against the terminal. So much for things being too easy. I guess they figured there wasn’t any need for a test pony to have access to a map. Dammit.

“Rusty, what’s that?” Dewdrop’s voice came from beside me as she stared at my hoof device. I checked it myself. Subject G-1321 intake recording. I must have selected another file when I hit the terminal. “Can we see what that is?”

“Sure, why not?” We were safe enough in this room, and I needed some downtime to process the freakish decorations surrounding us. I activated the file.

Subject G-1321

Race: Yak

Coat Color: Brown

Mane Color: Dk Brown

Eye Color: Olive

Magic Color: N/A

Cutie Mark: N/A

Classification: Weaver, Yakyakistan

Intake Recording Follows:

Hello strange creatures, I Yona! You take Yona from Yakyakistan, but Yona not worried! Yona learn friendship lessons from Pinkie Pie pony! Now Yona show yaks best at making friends! We do traditional yak stomp of greeting! Then creatures be friends with Yona!

Ouch! No, traditional yak stomp mean stomp on ground! Not stomp on Yona! Try again, stomp of greeting!

Ouch! Silly creatures, you still do stomp wrong! It ok, Yona still want to make friends with you! Why you point to metal with holes in? Is this how creature make friends? Yes, Yona understand!

Hello metal thing! I talk to you to make friends with creatures! Yaks best at talking to metal things! Yona not sure if metal thing can do traditional yak stomp of greeting, but Yona stomp double hard for both of us! *KSSHHHT*

Chapter 4: Breakdown

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.

Chapter 5: Discovery

Well. That was certainly a waste of my time.

I scrolled through the text to find the familiar map option, as I heard Dew quietly rise to her hooves behind me. This terminal was a lot slower than the others I had hacked. As the alien text crawled up the screen, I had a bit of time to think. Was that recording really a waste of time? It certainly gave me perspective.

The aliens had been here for a ridiculously long time. Long enough to see Celestia and Luna during their original rule together; 1200 years ago, if legend was to be believed. That was a frightening enough concept, that these aliens could have remained hidden despite our former princesses' supposed mastery over the sky. I had thought I might stand a chance against the aliens on my own, but the realization that they had outlasted the immortal princesses showed me exactly how ridiculous this idea was.

Then there was Midnight Shower herself. Taken from her home, just like I was, and almost certainly never returned. It sounded like she was a mare of some importance back in Equestria. She'd have known, more than anypony, the exact implications of ponynapping aliens, and had seen no other option than to resign herself to her fate. Even more, they had to have been powerful enough for this long-dead mare to forsake her own cutie mark in order to protect others she'd never see again!

...Others... I was preparing to release other ponies and lead them in a mass uprising, but they sure as shit wouldn’t want to follow me if Dew was the shining example of what happened to someone under my command. A raider boss would be able to pull it off, but not somepony like me. Fuck. I had to clear things up between us. Not for her sake, fuck no, but so I could have at least a small chance in Tartarus to ultimately end up in control of the ship.

I turned away from the terminal and did my best to appear remorseful. “Dew, listen. I’m sorry. I was just so excited to finally get home, and when I saw there wasn’t anything here… I just snapped. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m so sorry…”

“You really expect me to buy that?” she shot back.

“Dew?” This was a side of her personality I hadn't seen before.

“Buck no! I saw how you were acting even before we got here! Everything you were saying was ‘I need to get out of here, how is this going to affect me, I, I, I!’ The Enclave is right, surfacers are nothing but savages!”

“Dew, if you’d just listen...”

“Shut it!” Dammit. She had to pick now, of all times, to grow a spine. "You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t give a bat’s ass about me." She took an aggressive step forward. "Well, let me tell you, the feeling is mutual. I’m willing to put up with you so I can get back home, but I'm not going to let you pretend we’re old pals." She narrowed her eyes and rose up to her full height, her previous timidity gone completely. "And if you ever hit me again, I actually will geld you this time. Understand?!"

“Sure, I got you.” I gave a disparaging chuckle and turned away from her glare, back towards the terminal. “I guess I can drop the pretense. You’re right. I don’t give a shit about you, or anypony but myself. That’s the fucking wasteland for you. The only reason to help somepony else out is if they give you a damn good reason to. And that's only if they're family, or if they're holding you at gunpoint.”

I craned my head back in her direction and continued: “But you just discovered another reason. ‘Cause you’d be completely fucked without me. We're not standing in the wasteland right now, but we’re playing by its rules. And I might be a savage, but I’m the only one here with any wasteland experience. And you are still going to help me out. Because your only alternative ends up with you back in a cell.”

“Ass.” The glow around her pistol faded as she slid it back into her clothing. Wait, how long had she been pointing it at me? This mare was learning the ways of the wasteland damn quick! “Yeah, I got your message. I’m stuck with you as long as we’re on this ship. Well? Lead on, featherbrain.”

This new, sarcastic Dewdrop was going to get old fast.

Back to the terminal, open up the map, search for prisoners. Looked like there was a large holding cell a few floors down and a pretty far walk horizontally. But I noticed an ideal route that would only bring us off our current abandoned level right before we reached our destination. As tempting as it was to start taking out aliens immediately, I knew avoiding conflict was still key until we had some cannon fodder that could take the brunt of the return fire. So, safe and boring it would have to be.

“Got our path figured out, Dew. Let’s go.”

We exited the ruined docking bay and passed through the hallways in silence. This was what I was used to, on the rare occasions I had a companion on my scavenging expeditions. No conversation, minimal directions, and constant low-level mistrust. It really was too bad, I had been warming to the idea of not having to watch my back around another pony. The last time I had actually felt safe in a partnership was when I was still scavenging with…

Nope. Not going down that radroach hole again. Oh look, blank walls! And doors too? What a great distraction!

"Pistol out, Dew. No telling what we'll run into on our way down." We had finally reached the stairwell and I had managed to return my unwelcome memories to their normal spot at the back of my mind.

She turned to me with an irritated look. "And we're not taking the tunnels down why?"

"Because I don't feel like backtracking around blocked areas again. I’m the only one who knows the route, so I get to lead. Got it?"

"Fine," she scoffed. "Just get moving. The sooner we get some more ponies on our side, the sooner I can find one that isn't a complete jackass."

I had to chuckle a bit at that. "Hon, if that asshole neighbor of mine wasn’t brahminshitting me, everypony else on this ship is from the wasteland. And believe it or not, I’m one of the nicer wastelanders.”

She gave a derisive snort. “Yeah, right. The Element of Kindness, that’s you!”

“I’m serious. Most wastelanders would be trying to kill you for the simple reason that you’re from above the clouds. I’m the rare exception in that I just don’t give a shit about you.”

“And you think I’m supposed to be grateful for that?”

"Damn straight," I nodded. "Trust me, once we get some more ponies following us, you won’t want to leave my side."

“I’ll believe that when I see it. Go ahead, fearless leader, stairs are right over there,” she gestured with her horn.

We made it down five flights without seeing any aliens. It wasn’t because these areas were as abandoned as the floor we came from; the hallways were clean and much better maintained. Our luck was holding surprisingly well. Either that, or there were too few aliens on too big a ship.

We only had a short way to go on our destination floor before we came to the room that promised to hold scores of prisoners. A couple of turns, sneaking the best we could, before I came to a complete halt. Around the last corner I spotted a pair of aliens. The first pair I had seen since escaping the cell, oddly enough. And the first to die in our takeover.

“Dew,” I whispered. “Two aliens, right side, about fifty feet down. They’re guarding the door we need. Are you able to take one out while I get the other?”

“You think I can’t do it?” She sounded pissed off.

“I don’t know if you can do it or not. This isn’t me being condescending, I legitimately need to know if you can kill one. If not, let me take both out. I don’t want to let them get a shot off at us.”

“I can handle it.”

“Fine. Take a quick peek, see where they are, and then kill the one on the left. I’ll follow your lead.” I drew my pistol as I waited for her to make the first move.

KRACKOW! KRACKOW! I jumped around the corner, pistol at the ready, only to see two columns of glowing dust collapsing to the floor. “Dew? Did you kill both of them?”

“Two direct hits! How’s that for handling it?”

Not bad, Dew. Not bad. There may be hope for you yet.

The door the aliens had been guarding was locked, but there was yet another convenient terminal next to it. I started hacking as Dew scanned the hallway behind us. The pistols were a lot quieter than anything the wasteland had to offer, but they were still loud enough that nearby aliens would notice. I had to work fast. Password, door controls, open. “Got it! Dew, get in!”

She jumped through the door after me. I landed and my eyes scanned over the room, taking in the array of tables before us. Each one held a pony. Perfect! There must be dozens in here! And they weren’t even in cells!

Then I took a closer look at the table nearest us.

I heard Dew retching and vomiting behind me. I had no choice but to follow suit. I had seen some fucked up shit in the wasteland, but what greeted us in this room put raiders to shame!

“I didn’t think ponies could vomit,” Dew whispered. “Rusty, what is this?”

I couldn’t answer. I could only stare in shock at what lay before us. It was a pony, or at least it used to be one. Its two visible legs were hanging limply, swinging from strained blood vessels that emerged from near its shattered tibia. The exposed flesh was seared black. Its barrel had multiple deep gouges cut into it. The wounds were reminiscent of a zebra’s stripes, except that each gouge had an internal organ pulled through it. What looked like kidneys, a liver, intestines; all were suspended from a rack above the table, yet still connected to the pony. As I watched, the pony’s eye swiveled around to meet my shocked stare. What the fuck? She was still alive?

“...Please... help me…”

I bumped into Dew as I involuntarily took a step backwards. My mind slowly began processing what I was seeing. The absolute depravity on display was unimaginable. Every pony, griffon, zebra in the room was alive, but how? The looks of agony and despair were beyond anything I had seen before. The next table over held a griffon with every appendage removed: legs, wings, tail, everything! Only raw, oozing stumps remained. Next to it I saw an earth pony that was burned completely black, skin crumbling off as she turned her head towards us. She could have even been a zebra; she was far too burned to tell! A unicorn with his body segmented along his spine, only bones and organs making up the spaces in between. A pony with her skin completely flayed off, hanging limply within her view, just out of her reach. A zebra with his legs mangled and woven through a suspended grate, his body swinging as tears flowed from his eyes. All of them chained to their respective tables, all that were still capable of making noise moaning in unimaginable pain.

“Rusty!” Dew’s voice snapped me out of my trance. “We have to help them!”

I spit out what I could of the vomit remaining in my mouth. “Dew, I don’t think we can!” Restoring these ponies was far beyond what even prewar Equestria was capable of! I never thought I’d be in a situation where putting somepony out of their misery would be the kindest option. “All we can do is end their suffering.” It was a cliche, but there was no alternative. “Aim for the head. At least make it quick.”

Dew nodded as she picked up her pistol from where it had clattered to the floor. She aimed it at the nearest pony’s head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. KRACKOW! I did my part as well, though my own tears were making it hard to aim. It was bad enough that ponies did this kind of shit to each other, and now aliens were not only copying us, but keeping us alive the entire time? Fuck the world. Fuck the fucking world.

We had made it through about a third of the tortured captives when I heard a voice from behind us. “Ili mortigas la kaptitoj! Ĉesu!”

“Shit! Take cover!” I shouted to Dew as I dove behind the nearest table. A series of muted cracks came from the aliens’ direction. I loosed a few shots back at them. Nothing connected, but it was at least enough to send them scurrying for their own protection.

I looked over to Dew. She was crouched behind a table, her pistol elevated above her head. She was blindly shooting towards the aliens as well, keeping their heads down and shots wild.

Nopony had any chance of hitting their opponent, but I knew that couldn't last. There had to be more coming, and our cover would be useless if we were flanked. We needed to get out of the open!

"Dew!" I yelled at her. "I'm heading to the far door, cover me!"

"Buck that! You think I trust you not to split?"

Fuck. "Fine, I'll cover you. Yell when you're at the door!"

"That's better!"

Bitch. I turned back to the aliens. They were still in cover, but they were taking advantage of their limbs to hold their weapons out without exposing their bodies. I could work with this. A few shots near their guns kept them pinned down. Should work long enough for Dew to reach the far wall.

Suddenly the door behind them slid open again. Reinforcements! I angled my pistol over and tongued a few shots towards the three aliens that were piling through. One of the newcomers crumbled to dust, but the distraction was enough for the aliens in cover to pop out and take aim! I barely had time to pull my head back before a barrage of bolts shrieked past me!

“Rusty! Fall back!”

Thank the goddesses! I sprinted towards her voice, doing my best to keep at least some sort of barrier between myself and the aliens. The volume of incoming fire was astonishing. I could taste the electricity in the air! Dew’s return shots looked pitiful in comparison. I zigged, and zagged, desperately trying to stay ahead of my pursuers, and finally dove through the doorframe Dew was guarding. Her hoof slammed the control switch and the door hissed shut behind me. But it wouldn’t stay closed for long unless we did something about it!

“Dew! Shoot the bottom! Melt it shut!”

It was risky. I had no clue if the guns would have any effect on the metal. But as we poured beam after beam into the door, it began to glow, then deform. Success! But this was only a temporary reprieve. We had to move before they found their way around!

“Let’s haul ass!” I hustled down the hallway, Dew right on my tail. “If you see any hatches, try to magic them open, but we can’t stop to unlock anything!”

“Right!” came the reply.

A few seconds later, a piercing wail filled the hallway. For whatever reason, our former captors must have decided now was the perfect time to sound an alarm. Dammit. Every alien on the ship would be on the lookout for us.

“Rusty! Is there a plan?” Dew’s voice called from behind me.

“Just run! I’ll figure something out!”

Whatever I figured out would have to be the greatest plan in history. We were rapidly running out of options. Hiding places were temporary at best, running was unsustainable, fighting was beyond perilous, escape was impossible. The only upside was that the sirens concealed the sounds of our gallop.

And just as that thought hit me, I collided with an alien.

We must have entered the intersection at the same time. I barely kept hold of my pistol as we collapsed in a heap. I tongued the trigger wildly and was fortunate enough that one of the beams incinerated my opponent. Damn, that was close!

“Rusty! More of them!”

Dew’s beams lit up the hallway as she poured fire towards a scattered group of aliens taking cover in the limited protection of the scattered alcoves. I clambered to my hooves and, as I did so, saw a second gang sprinting up yet another hallway.

“That way too! Run!” We scrambled away from our pursuers, down the only hallway that gave us any hope for reprieve. The aliens in cover must have realized we stood no chance of hitting them, as the incoming fire increased and white hot bolts missed us by less and less.

Wait… In front of us! A stairway! “Dew! Stairs! Head AUGH!” A searing pain tore through my rear leg, and I slid to a halt as it collapsed under my weight. “Fuck! I’m hit!”

Dew crouched beside me, turning as she did so to aim back at the pursuing aliens. They dove back into cover, but it was clear we were on our last legs!

“Rusty!” Dew yelled over the crack of her weapon. “Can you move?”

I tried flexing my leg. “Ow! Barely, I can’t put any weight on this leg!”

“Head downstairs, it’s our only hope! I’ll cover you!”

I did my best to crawl on three legs across the landing to the stairwell. Damn, why did these steps have to be so far apart? I could hear the aliens’ shouts becoming more distinct. Even as I heard one of the shouts cut out as one of Dew's shots found its mark, I could tell more and more aliens were pouring into the corridors, yelling as they approached. Fuck it. Now or never. I hurled myself forward with my forelegs, blindly hoping to get as far down the stairs as I could.

The next thing I saw was Dew standing next to me, pistol pointed towards the stairway. My leg was in absolute agony. My own pistol was out of reach. I must have passed out from the pain on my way down to this landing. I saw a swarm of aliens crowded behind an energy shield at the bottom of the stairwell. I could make out angry alien voices behind me, above the muted din of the siren. Surrounded.

“Dew, I think we’re fucked.”

“Um, Rusty? There’s something odd going on. I think they’re yelling at… each other?”

I took a closer look at the gaggle of aliens on the stairs. They certainly looked mad, but why was their gaze set above us? I looked behind me, and sure enough, the aliens there were glaring right back at their compatriots. They were behind a curved glass wall, but there was apparently a loudspeaker amplifying their voices. I could only pick out occasional words.

“...nia kvartalo!”

“...mortigis ok el ni!”

“...voku la tradukisto!”

Whatever the fuck was up with this situation, I knew Dew couldn’t cover both directions at once. I dragged myself over to my fallen pistol and pointed it at the glass wall aliens. I just hoped I'd be able to take out a few more before I was inevitably gunned down.

Minutes passed. The standoff continued. The indistinct yelling went back and forth. Until a new voice came through the speaker: “Ponies! You are safe now! Put down your weapons, we will not harm you!”

I spotted an alien through the glass, holding a… microphone, I think they’re called. It was waving its unoccupied forelimb over its head. And now that I was taking a closer look, only a couple of the aliens next to it appeared armed.

Dew’s voice broke through my concentration. “Rusty, do you believe it? Are we actually safe?”

I shook my head. So many things about this situation just didn’t make sense. “Fuck if I know. But our options are returning to the aliens that just shot me, staying here until we starve, or going with the first alien we’ve been able to communicate with. I choose the one where we at least have a chance of surviving.”

I turned to the microphone alien. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but if it gets me away from those freaks behind us, I’ll play along.” I placed my pistol into my barding. “Dew, weapons down. This is our only chance.”

“Thank you, ponies. My name is Ema. What can I call you?”

“Rusty Rivet.”

“Dewdrop.”

Ema gave us a kindly smile, the first emotion I had seen from the aliens that wasn't outrage or fear. “Rusty Rivet, I see you are injured. I have summoned a team to bring you to our infirmary. Dewdrop, you may accompany your friend while he is treated.”

“No need.” Dew’s reply was terse. “He isn’t my friend, Ema. Just take me somewhere he’s not. Now that I’m safe, he can die screaming for all I care.”

Her words were disappointing, but not unexpected. I had no reason to doubt her earlier threat to abandon me. I had just assumed it would happen when we were on our way back home, not while still in the company of aliens. Still, if I was safe from those bastards that had been chasing us, why should I give a fuck about her? Shit, if Ema was being honest about them healing me, life here would be a huge step up from the wasteland!

“Very well, Dewdrop. I will call another translator to bring you to your accommodations and assist you with settling in. Rusty Rivet, the stretcher has arrived. I will accompany you while you are treated. The door is opening, please do not shoot any of us.”

A glass panel slid open and two aliens approached, pushing a hovering table in front of them. Ema beckoned Dew through the door as the aliens attending me lifted me onto the stretcher. The pain in my leg immediately subsided as a shimmering dome formed over me. Damn, I hoped all their technology was this awesome. I could get used to this!

I watched the enraged faces of my pursuers draw away from me as the attendants pushed the stretcher through the clear glass portal. I passed by Dew, locked in a conversation with Ema and another alien. I suppose she deserved some form of goodbye.

“So long, Dew,” I called to her.

“Go to Tartarus, Rusty.”

Hey. At least I tried. “All right, fuck you too.”

My attendants moved me swiftly away from the welcoming committee. I did nothing but lay back and watch the ceiling rush by above me. I was still a bit concerned about the aliens' motivations, but shit, if they were taking me to my doom, at least I’d be arriving in style.

A minute or so later, I heard a breathy voice. Ema’s. “Rusty Rivet, your companion is now under the care of Kenneth, another translator. I am sure you have many questions, and I will answer what I can before we arrive at the medical center.”

Sounded good to me. Not like I could do anything else while on this slab. “All right, Ema, let’s get the big one out of the way. Why the fuck did you save us from those assholes back there?”

“Those ‘assholes,’ as you call them, are a rival faction to ours. I suppose it might seem surprising that aboard a single spacecraft there exist factions of the same race. But exist they do. I do not know how these divisions came about, but they determine where we may live, our role aboard this ship, and what our guiding principles are. Those whose territory you escaped from are called the 'Guros.' They exist only to torture, mutilate, and kill. They are anathema to us.”

Sure fit what we had seen of that torture room. “Then who are you?”

“We are those who treasure the life native to Equestria. I, and many others, consider ponies to be the greatest of all creatures, though griffons, zebras, and others have their admirers as well. We are healers, and nurturers, and our purpose is to better the lives of ponies in any way we can. Our people are known as ‘Cloppers,’ after the sound of a pony’s hoof striking ground.”

Horseshit. There’s no way the wasteland would be in the condition it’s in if these Cloppers were doing everything Ema claimed. Still, the healing part sounded good, and calling Ema out on their shit before they fixed my leg would be all kinds of stupid. I’d just have to stay alert. There had to be something else hidden behind that fancy description.

I felt the cart slow as the attendants left me and a different group took their place. "Rusty Rivet," I heard Ema call, "we have arrived. I will let the medics do their work, and I will rejoin you after they finish."

I held up my hoof. “One last question, Ema. You’re Cloppers and they’re Guros, but there’s got to be a name for your entire race, right? It’s awkward thinking of you as aliens all the time.”

“We are called humans. Now rest and heal, Rusty Rivet, and we will speak later.”

My stretcher passed through a doorway into a brightly lit room, leaving Ema behind. Guros, Cloppers, and humans. What a wild place.

Author's Note

And the aliens are finally identified.

I want to be completely transparent here. This fic is going to involve a lot of the different brony subgroups. But by involve I don't mean criticize. What I'm looking to do is explore how ponies would react to the most extreme elements of each subgroup.

These are going to be subgroups viewed through the Fallout lens. They'll have no restraint, and the technology to do whatever they want. They're not supposed to represent bronies in real life, they're supposed to be twisted examples of what could happen after a millennium or more of isolation.

So please don't take the inclusion of different aspects of the fandom as an attack. It's ponies encountering the extremes of their own fandom, nothing more.

Chapter 6: The Human Touch

It was disconcerting to have my treatment reliant on aliens -- humans, I’d have to get used to that name -- whose language I couldn’t even understand. But Ema was right about one thing, they were damn good healers. I was used to rationing healing potions or visiting a town sawbones, but the medics here were worlds beyond anything I had experienced. I was relaxed enough that I even fell asleep a couple times while they worked.

I eventually opened my eyes to find Ema peering over the side of my stretcher. “Welcome back to health, Rusty Rivet. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll let you know in a second.” I craned my neck to inspect my wound. I saw a patch of bare skin going halfway around my leg, but nothing indicating I had even been injured. I tried moving the leg. It flexed as I commanded, with no pain!

“Not bad!” I rolled over the side of the stretcher and landed with all four hooves on the ground. “Perfect! Damn, I…”

“Rusty Rivet!” Ema shouted, interrupting me.

“What?” The fuck was she worried about?

“I see you are excited to be returned to health,” Ema continued more calmly, “but did you not think such an impact would be inadvisable, given the recent state of your leg?”

“Felt fine to me. You saying I’m not back to normal?” I swear, if they kept me halfway healed on purpose...

“That is uncertain. My own limited knowledge of healing indicates the regrowth of muscle and tissue can be imprecise. If I were in your situation, I would exercise more caution until I was sure my body was responding the way I wanted.”

I replied by bucking the stretcher as hard as I could. It spun away from me, slamming into the opposite wall. My rear hooves had each left their own dent on its surface, and my leg still felt as if it had never been injured. “How’s that for responding?”

“I suppose I must applaud your… exuberance.” Ema looked at me in a manner that I would describe as “coy” if it came from a pony. But who knew what any of these damn human expressions meant. For all I knew, it indicated Ema was pissed off beyond belief. “Come, gather your belongings, then we will proceed to a place where we can continue our earlier conversation.”

My belongings, as it turned out, were sitting neatly arranged on a low table right next to Ema. My perception really was complete shit sometimes.

I walked over to inspect my stuff. Barding and weapons were there, food, water, ammo… nothing missing! These Cloppers were pretty damn trusting, I thought, as I stepped into my barding. Of course, given that I was still on a mysterious spaceship containing Guros and Celestia knows what other factions, attacking the first friendly humans I’d encountered would be beyond senseless. Even a raider wouldn’t be that dumb.

“All right, Ema, where are we going?”

“It is not far. This recovery room is quite close to my quarters.”

Quarters? Odd that she'd be taking me there, but I didn't see any reason to argue. “Lead on.”

We stepped into a dimly-lit corridor. Not dimly-lit from neglect, like the hallways near the docking bay, but simply from low lighting. The walls were a complete departure from the sterile white of the rest of the ship; they were a dark maroon. I suppose the best word to describe the atmosphere was “intimate.”

As we walked down the passageway, I noticed decorations lining the halls. What looked like homemade drawings and paintings hung evenly spaced between the doorways lining either side of the corridor. I paused a bit to more closely examine one. It showed a pair of earth ponies, nuzzling each other affectionately. A far cry from the gruesome horror present just one level up. I still had my suspicions about these Cloppers, but displays like this were causing them to fade rapidly.

Less than a minute later, Ema stopped in front of a door, which slid open before us. “My quarters, Rusty Rivet. Please, enter, and we can further discuss the situation in which you have found yourself.”

This fancy language of Ema's was getting annoying as fuck. I was starting to miss Dew. At least she could convey a thought using less than a novel’s worth of words.

I stepped through the door, followed closely by Ema. The room appeared cozy, but not confining, at least by my assumptions of human standards. For a pony, it was quite roomy. A bed that could easily fit four ponies, a desk with a terminal, a chair, some containers. The lighting was brighter than in the hallway, but I would still consider it dim.

I didn’t get more than a cursory glance at the room’s contents before Ema spoke again. “Rusty Rivet, now that we have arrived, is there anything I can do to put your mind at ease?”

I turned to face my companion. Again, reading humans was imprecise, but Ema appeared earnest. “Yeah, there’s a few things I need cleared up. But first, just call me Rusty. Hearing the full name sounds like you're pissed off at me.” And hopefully that would cut down on her long-winded speech a bit. I was already having flashbacks to the Whispering Meadow incident.

“Of course, Rusty. What is it I may clear up?”

“You Cloppers seem nice enough, but there’s something I don’t understand. You've got amazing healing tech, and an entire spaceship to fly around in, but it doesn't look like you do anything with it! If you’re so dedicated to helping ponies, why is the wasteland still so fucked? There’s plenty of shit down there for you to do, but I’ve never heard of a single pony that’s had humans help them. It’s like you sit up here, looking down on us, but don't bother doing shit for anypony where you'd have to put any effort into bringing them here!”

Ema’s face turned from earnest to crestfallen. Huh. Maybe human expressions were the same as ponies’. “Rusty, I wish with all my heart that we could assist the wasteland. But our interactions with it are extremely limited. The Guros, who control the entirety of this ship’s surface, are the only ones able to collect and return ponies. And they have never returned a living pony. Only those poor creatures whom they have mutilated and killed, returned to places where other ponies may see the bodies and shudder at the brutality on display. This is why you have never heard tales of us; anypony who has seen a human and returned to the wasteland is in no condition to share her knowledge!"

I guess that made sense. Although, there was certainly plenty of brutality in the wasteland without the Guros adding to it. Maybe they just wanted to add their personal touch?

But getting back to the Cloppers, there were plenty of ponies on this ship that could use healing, judging by the torture room just one level up! I couldn't just let that go. "Does that mean you sit down here and just wait for a pony to show up? You know there's a whole room of flayed ponies upstairs, right?"

Ema sadly shook her head. "We know of several rooms that fit your description, and suspect the existence of more. But as with the wasteland, our interactions with the Guros are likewise limited. They would never allow us to remove a pony from their 'care.' You and your companion are the first in decades to cross the borders between factions on their own.

"Unfortunately, our main method of acquiring ponies to heal is entirely dependent on a previously arranged agreement with the Guros. They allow us to bring aboard a limited number of ponies per year, but they still control the entire acquisition process. We will select an injured or ill pony, and they capture and guard her until she is brought to us. We do our best to collect the ponies that would benefit most from our talents, but our overall impact is, sadly, minimal. And our little ponies are never allowed to return. Many are glad to stay with us, but those that wish to be restored to their homes are prevented from doing so. This is the state of our faction: limited in our efforts and unable to return ponies after our work is complete. We despise the Guros, but are obliged to obey their ordinances; else our access would be removed and no ponies could experience our gifts. Have I sufficiently answered your questions?”

Guros controlling the ponynapping. That made a disturbing amount of sense. Who better to capture and guard creatures than the fuckers who made a game out of restraining and mutilating us?

“A bit wordy for my tastes, but yeah. I get it. So each faction gets a certain number of ponynappings?” Ema cringed at my choice of words, but nodded. “Any idea which faction picked me?”

“You were not chosen by us; of that I am certain. Which other faction chose you I cannot say. But I must also correct you: although other factions engage in ‘ponynapping,’ the creatures we bring aboard are in such a state that it would be more accurate to call their acquisition a ‘rescue.’”

Fair enough. “I think I get it. You want to fix the wasteland, but can’t because the Guros are in the way. And since they control who goes on and off the spaceship, you have to play by their rules, or they’d cut you off completely. That sound about right?”

“Your summary is concise, and completely accurate.”

Could've just said "yes." I sincerely hoped all humans weren't this talkative. Still, I needed to play along until I had a better understanding of the situation I found myself in. “Good. Now, I need to find out more about you Cloppers. There’s got to be something else to you other than just healing ponies, right?”

Ema smirked. “I was hoping you would ask further about us, Rusty. I will answer, but I must ask something of you first. Will you turn and face away from me? There is no trickery involved. Simply put, my explanation will be more effective if I pair it with an illustration.”

An illustration? The fuck was Ema getting at? “And why exactly do I have to turn around?”

“Please, Rusty, trust me. It will be well worth your time.”

“Fine.” I faced the opposite wall. I heard rustling behind me as Ema began to speak.

“I told you earlier that we Cloppers consider pony life to be the greatest of all. This is why we devote ourselves to healing and sustaining ponies. But our appreciation of ponies runs far deeper than simply striving for their betterment. There is a more… physical… aspect to our appreciation.”

As Ema droned on, I started to pick out details of the room I had missed at first. There were drawings of ponies on the walls here as well, but of a slightly different subject matter than the ones in the corridor. Those images were intimate; these were sensual. And was that Princess Luna in the background? Interesting…

“Rusty, please turn around.”

I followed the command, only to realize Ema’s clothing was nowhere to be seen. Where it had been, there was only pale, smooth skin. I knew humans lacked fur on their faces and the ends of their forelimbs, but this was the first time I had confirmation that nearly their entire bodies were hairless!

“I must confess, Rusty, that there was another inaccuracy in my earlier statements. I told you that ‘Clopper’ came from the sound of a pony’s hoof striking the ground. This is true, but incomplete. It also describes a hoof striking a specific part of anatomy, which is the definition that is most relevant to us.” Ema laid down on the bed, and beckoned to me. “Would you like a demonstration?”

I never wanted to leave this place. I was exhausted, and drained, and I had never felt better in my life. The wasteland could go to Tartarus. I was in heaven. Ema’s “demonstration” was both satisfying and educational: in addition to the greatest fuck I'd ever had, I now knew how to differentiate humans based on gender! Best. Learning. Experience. Ever!

“Rusty, I may have committed another indiscretion,” Ema murmured to me. “It is possible I convinced the medical team to apply a… stamina enhancing... treatment during your operation.”

“Fuck, Ema,” I sighed back. “I’m so fucking glad you did.” It must have been hours since we started, and only now was the exhaustion creeping up on me.

“Excellent,” she replied, nuzzling into my shoulder. “I believe your recovery is proceeding quite well.”

“I’d say so,” I agreed, as I reclined further in the bed. “Shit, if I knew this is what recovery was like, I would’ve gotten shot a lot sooner!”

I felt Ema stiffen beside me. Did I say something wrong?

“Rusty, I realize you are attempting to make light of the situation, but it is no laughing matter. Had you been shot and unable to reach us on your own, it is certain that you would never have reached us at all!”

“What do you mean? I thought you were the medics! Wouldn’t the Guros want me patched up so they could have more fun tearing me apart?”

Ema reached over to stroke my mane before answering. “Rusty, beloved, it would seem you have little understanding of the true nature of the factions aboard this ship.”

“Shouldn’t be that surprising. Only found out there were factions in the first place a few hours ago!”

“Hmm. Then perhaps I could explain it to you?”

Was she asking me to volunteer for a lecture? Then again, sitting and listening was about all my body was capable of at the moment. Wasn’t much else I could do to pass the time. And afterwards I’d be ready for round number… shit, I don’t even know. A lot.

“Sure, Ema, lay it on me.”

She began…

I am certain the Guros would love for us to heal any ponies they break. But that is not the nature of our agreement. Any creature that enters the territory of a faction is automatically subject to that faction’s rules. Once they send a pony to us, they have no recourse by which they may demand her return. Likewise, should a pony living with us stray into their territory, she would have no protection from them.

Our dealings with them, therefore, do not involve us healing their wards directly. Instead, we are required to maintain and repair the equipment they use to keep their captives alive. It is a regretful arrangement, but one we must uphold in order for us to have access to the ponies of Equestria. We allow the continued suffering of the poor creatures under their control, and give succor to those we are able to pluck from the ravages below.

But these are only the rules concerning ponies. The rules regarding interactions of humans across factions are far more severe. A trespassing Guro in our territory would, quite simply, never be allowed to leave. The borders are sacrosanct; the punishments for violations extreme. Only with permission of the controlling faction are outsiders allowed to enter. This is why, upon entering the room in which we found you and your companion, you were as safe from the Guros as are the ponies living in your Stables. Had they violated our territory, they would have triggered a crisis not seen since the original rending of this vessel.

The rending deserves its own mention. Our records of all that preceded it are lost; we are not even certain how long ago it occurred. The one certainty is this: at some point in the past, a formerly united crew split among ideological and vocational lines. In the ensuing chaos, territories were claimed, battles were fought, and an unknown amount of time passed before the treaty by which we abide was finalized.

There are, however, clues to the events that took place before the keeping of our own history resumed. Somehow, the audio recordings of ponies describing their entry and life aboard this vessel survived. These recordings exist in a fragmented form, accessible only from certain terminals. We have found several, scattered throughout the areas we control. From them, we have recovered small bits of our past. We know, for instance, that two factions united to become the Cloppers of today. But these fragments of knowledge pale in comparison to what was forever lost, or would be lost should another rending occur. This is why each faction fulfils its own role and remains in its own territory. To do otherwise would spark a new era of conflict that could result in the destruction of this vessel!

I realize my explanation may be overlong, but I believe the context of human history is essential for understanding the state of matters today. I trust, Rusty, that you now understand how your well-being is dependent on which faction’s territory you inhabit, and why the factions themselves are sequestered, with minimal contact except at their respective borders?

“Yep, makes perfect sense to me!” I lied. I had mentally checked out about thirty seconds into her speech. This bitch had apparently never heard of the phrase “long story short.” I was just grateful she was as good at fucking as she was at talking.

Speaking of which… wait, when had she gotten dressed?

“I am glad. Rusty, I am afraid my duties require me to leave. You may accompany me if you wish, or you may explore our territory on your own.”

Let’s see… I could either have my ears talked off for hours or figure out what this place -- which I was certain was going to become my new home -- had to offer. What a dilemma.

“I think I’ll go for the tour.” I slipped out of bed and began pulling on my barding. “Any place I can get some grub around here?”

“The commissary is on this level. Are you able to navigate using our signage?”

I held up my hoof translator in response. She looked at it without any sense of recognition, then back at me. A translator who had no knowledge of something that literally did the same job as her? Interesting.

“I’ll manage,” I told her.

“Excellent.” She reached down to me, placed a small red marker on my barding, and planted a kiss on my forehead. “This insignia will identify you as a friend of the Cloppers, and will allow me to find you should you become lost. I would not wish for us to become separated due to something as trivial as taking a wrong turn.”

“Yep. Don’t want that to happen.”

“Indeed. Please do not wander from our territory, and I will see you after my duties are finished. Farewell, Rusty.”

The cafeteria was a bit of a slog from Ema’s room. I passed a good number of humans on my way there, all of which continued on their way without sparing me a second glance. Just the way I liked it. Conversations were at the bottom of my list of favorite pastimes, and I doubted most of them spoke Ponish anyway. I also saw a few ponies and a griffon, but I managed to tune them out as well.

Through an energetic display of hoof gestures, I was able to indicate to the stocky human in charge of the cafeteria what food I wanted to try. The “Cudgel Sandwich” sounded too interesting to pass up, but it turned out to be just three slices of bread stuffed with various types of meat and vegetables. Still damn tasty though.

I continued my exploration after my meal. Passed a few more ponies without getting dragged into a conversation. Lots more humans; I was starting to get a sense of how to differentiate them based on faces and manes. A room full of desks and terminals, another with rows of seats facing a gigantic terminal screen, plenty of closed doors that my hoof translator told me were bedrooms.

I don't know how long it took, but I eventually made it to a section of the Cloppers' turf where traffic was practically nonexistent. Perfect for a leisurely stroll inspecting the artwork that lined the corridors. The themes hadn't changed: ponies embracing, pegasi (ugh!) and griffons playing in the clouds, a smiling group of all sorts of creatures standing by a river. I happened to glance through a side window as I moved from one set of paintings to another.

That's the only reason I saw Dewdrop.

Dammit. I was in such a good mood too. The artwork had me in a blissful state of mind, and I had to be torn out of it by the one pony I never wanted to see again.

And it appeared she had figured out what Cloppers were really about on her own. She was spread out over a table, with five of them in various states of undress around her. One was energetically thrusting under her tail, while the others were seated, engrossed in the action. It looked like all but the current participant had had their fun.

Dammit again. I had felt pretty good about my time with Ema, and here Dew was working on number five! At least! Way to make me feel inadequate.

And then I saw the restraints holding her to the table. And there was the band holding her mouth shut. And her tear-stained cheeks. Wait. This wasn’t kinky, this was…

Her gaze caught mine through the window. Pain, rage, despair, resignation; all these emotions came spilling out as I looked into her eyes.

My mother’s eyes.

“Oh FUCK no!”

I couldn't tell you what happened next. All I knew was that I was standing on top of Dew's table. The straps holding her down had been ripped out, her muzzle was free, and there were five piles of smoking ash spread around the room. I had her wrapped in a tight embrace. Tears were pouring out of my eyes, and I kept repeating to her, “Dew, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Chapter 7: Bankruptcy (of the moral variety)

“Rusty… you came back for me!”

Dew’s voice was weak and wavering, but I could sense the gratitude coming through. I loosened my grasp. “Dew? Are you ok?” Wait, scratch that. Asking that right after her ordeal finished? Sweet Celestia, I really was an asshole. “Sorry. I mean, can you move?”

I felt her stir beneath me. Right, letting go of her would definitely improve matters. I released my embrace and jumped down from the table.

“I’m really stiff, but I think I can at least stand,” she said as she did so. Shakily. “Is there someplace I can wash off?”

No kidding she’d want to wash off, her hindquarters really were a mess. Wait, why was that the first thing I looked at? What was wrong with me? I pulled my gaze away and looked around the room, making special effort to keep from meeting her eyes. I could tell we both were huge messes of emotions right now, and the last thing we needed was awkward eye contact. I spotted a sliding glass door, beyond which was a room coated in ceramic tiles, with metal sprayers mounted high on the walls. “Looks like there might be showers over there,” I told her as I pointed at the adjoining room.

“Thanks, Rusty.” Her head and tail hung low as she stumbled in the direction I had indicated. Poor mare. I turned my eyes away from her to keep watch on the door I had entered from. With how abandoned the hallway had been, I wasn’t expecting any humans to come by, but considering there were piles of former human cooling on the floor, being surprised by one of their friends was something I wanted to avoid.

My guard duty was, thankfully, uneventful. It didn’t sound like anyhuman had raised the alarm, but I was not looking forward to a repeat of our adventures with the Guros should one of them spot their dead comrades. After an understandably long time, I heard the water shut off and the door behind me slide open. Then came Dew’s voice: “Rusty? Why are you still here?” She sounded surprised.

My heart sank. “Sorry, Dew. I can go now if you want.”

“No, don’t go!” I turned to her, eyes wide, optimism starting to build inside me. Really, she wanted me to stay? Even after all I did?

She continued. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to still be here, not after I told you off when we got to this level. I’m glad you decided to stay.” She approached me and gave me a shy smile. “Seeing a friendly face really helps after… all that…” And there went my heart again, shooting right over to sympathy town.

“I know what you mean.”

She stepped back, looking quizzically at me. “You know what I mean? Did you go through this too?”

“Something like that. I can give you the details later, but right now we need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“We?” The excitement in her voice was unmistakable. “Do you mean you want to stick together again?”

“I do, Dewdrop. Seeing you in that state reminded me of the time I watched somepony I care about go through the same thing, and I was powerless to help.” Sympathy was melting into determination now. “Now that I’m able to help, I want to make up for what I wasn’t able to do for her. I think she’d be happy to know I was comforting someone who’d gone through the same thing.” Now arriving: heartbreak city. What an emotional ride.

“Rusty, just… thank you. Whatever happens next, I want you to know I’m grateful for what you did for me.”

“Of course, Dew. Now I think it’s time we got some answers. My experience here was a damn sight better than yours was, and I want to know why. We need to get back to Ema -- my translator -- and lock her in a room until she tells us what’s going on. You up for some walking?”

“Give me a minute, Rusty. Those… bastards threw my clothes all over the place and I don’t want to be walking around completely exposed!”

Understandable. I averted my eyes as she picked up her shirt and overalls and slid them on. Give the mare a bit of privacy, Celestia knows she deserved it. I’ll just stare at the wall for a minute...

“Okay, I think I’m ready to go.”

I turned to look at her, and noticed a bright blue badge staring at me from her top. Something told me it was significant, there had to be a reason they stuck it on her before they started sticking their... yeah. Let's not bring up those intrusive thoughts again. “Dew, what’s that badge?” I asked her, inwardly hoping this would steer our conversation away from the recent events.

She looked down. “That? It’s something the aliens put on me before they brought me here. Any idea what it means?”

I tried to think back to the ponies I had passed during my explorations. I had done my best to ignore them, but I could remember a few despite my efforts at the time. I racked my memory, but I didn’t remember seeing anything bright blue on them. Of course, I didn’t remember the badge color they were wearing. Dammit, why did my perception have to be such shit?

Wait, the griffon! There was a bright red badge on his chest! With the way it stood out from his jet black feathers, there’s no way even I could have missed it!

“I can’t be completely sure, but Ema told me this badge meant I was a friend or something,” I said, indicating the red marker in question. “And I, and this griffon I passed, both of us were wearing one. I’m thinking badge color might have something to do with how you’ll be treated, which means we need to get that thing off you and find you a red one! Definitely don’t want you to get spotted with a badge that means ‘I don’t belong here!’” Or, more likely, meaning 'rape me now!'

I made my way over to one of the piles of former human. There had been times when I came across the remnants of a battle where energy weapons were used, and there was almost always loot that had survived the incineration. I just prayed the same rule applied to human guns. I sifted through the ashes, hoping to find something more substantial than just dust. And there! Right at the bottom, a solid red badge!

“Bingo! Let’s get that badge swapped out!” I said with a grin. “Those humans won’t be any the wiser!”

“Humans?” Dew asked as she removed the blue badge and substituted the red. “Is that what those aliens are called?”

“I guess you didn’t get the story from them.” Made sense, no need to share much information with a pony you’re planning to… fuck me, was I always this callous? “Short version: they’re called humans, they're split into factions that hate each other, and each faction controls different parts of the ship.”

I stepped towards the hallway and motioned for Dew to follow me. “I probably shouldn’t be spilling human secrets when we could run into one at any moment. The full story will have to wait until later.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Dew replied.

We walked in silence for a bit before Dew spoke up again. “Rusty, if you don’t mind, what were you saying earlier about knowing what… it… was like?”

Oof, this again. I supposed it would have to come out sooner or later, given that we were partnered up again and trust was once more a valued commodity. I just had to hope I could depend on her to keep my own secrets.

“It’s not the most pleasant story, Dew, but I don’t think it’ll raise any alarms if parts of it get overheard by humans. You sure you want to know?”

She nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

I sighed, then began.

“You’ve probably gathered by now that the wasteland is a terrible place to grow up. If you were lucky enough to live in a settlement, you could avoid the worst of it, but my mom and I were never able to afford it. We were barely able to scavenge enough to afford food. I know my mom would have been a lot better off if I wasn’t in the picture, but she was determined to keep me around. There were plenty of slavers she could have sold me to, but no matter how bad things got for us, that was one thing she would never do.”

“Hold on,” Dew interjected. “Mothers didn’t actually sell their foals as slaves, right?”

"I told you the wasteland was terrible," I sighed. "I was actually lucky; I met plenty of foals whose parents sold them. Shit, there were rumors some mares used that as their main source of income. They’d get knocked up again as soon as their latest foal was born, raise their foals to the age where slavers would want them, and immediately sell them. They were basically slave factories."

“Skies above… that’s even worse than what they said back in the Enclave! Being a mindless cannibal is one thing, but choosing to do that to your own family?!”

“Keep in mind, Dew, that this was just a rumor. Still, it’s not completely out of the question. Slavery involved a lot of caps, and a desperate pony is capable of just about anything.”

“Wait, caps?”

“Money. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, on the subject of slavery, that was one thing mom and I actively worked to avoid. Scavvers were easy pickings for slaver gangs, at least compared to town ponies. So there was constant talk among scavvers, keeping each other updated on where the gangs were hunting. It worked out really well for us, except for one time.

“One of the gangs must have finally gotten somepony with half a brain in charge. They figured out that they could plant a fake rumor and have the scavvers come to them, instead of chasing us around. And they were smart about it. Instead of a rumor about a new place to loot, which we were naturally wary of anyway, they found a way to spread a rumor about where they were hunting. And one of the places that was supposed to be safe? That was right where their camp was. Mom and I walked right up to them.

“So we thought that was it. They took our weapons and armor, put us in chains, and marched us along with all the other scavvers they tricked to a town called Appleloosa. Mom and I got tossed in a cage with maybe twenty other slaves.

“The thing about slavers, though, is they liked to ‘sample the merchandise’ before they sold us. It was probably their way to break our spirits and make us more valuable. A submissive slave is worth a lot more than one with fight left in them. And the first slave they decided to sample… it was my mom.”

Tears were threatening to form in the corners of my eyes while I spoke. Dew was the first pony I had ever told this story to. The memory had been stored deep in the back of my mind, and now all the emotions connected to it were rushing to the surface.

“They brought her out of the cage, and tied her to the old railroad tracks that ran right in front of it. It was less than ten feet away. And all the stallions took turns. Every one of them. I could hear everything. I could only bear to look once. And what I saw… She was looking right at me, and I knew exactly what she was feeling. Just the agony, and the helplessness… I couldn’t look anymore. And when I saw you, Dew, it was just like looking into her eyes again. I wasn’t able to rescue her then, but there was no fucking way I was going to let you go through the same thing.”

“My stars… Rusty, I... That's terrible!" Dew stammered, shocked.

“It was terrible for both of us, Dew, no doubt about that. But as bad as I felt seeing it, I knew it was even worse for her. They threw her back in the cage when they were finally finished, and the only thing she did was collapse on the ground and cry. I didn’t know what I could say, so I didn’t say anything. All I could do was embrace her as she cried herself out.

“She told me later that was the best thing I could have done for her. She needed to know somepony was there for her, and words would have just gotten in the way. They might have succeeded in breaking her that day if I hadn’t been there to comfort her.”

Behind me, I heard Dew’s hoofbeats slow to a stop. I turned around to check on her. She looked absolutely devastated. Shit, maybe that wasn’t the best story to lay on her right away. She hadn’t asked, but I had to share the rest of it and hope that was enough to cheer her up. I walked back to her and laid a gentle hoof on her shoulder before continuing.

“It started out as one of the worst days of my life, Dew, but the ending wasn’t quite so bad. The gang that had captured us was pretty smart, but the ones holding us at Appleloosa were a particular breed of stupid. Not only did they leave us overnight without a guard, the cage they kept us in had a powered down terminal on one of the walls! They must have thought the terminal was busted, but all it needed was power, which they had running behind the wall! So I had a bunch of my cellmates crowd around to block the glow of the screen, powered it on, and opened the cage door from the terminal! And that was it, every one of us got out of the cell! We snuck out of town, without any of the slavers noticing. They lost a small fortune that night! And the best part? That was the night I got my cutie mark!”

I smiled at Dew, who managed to return it halfheartedly. “I’m glad it worked out, Rusty. I just wish there had been some justice for you and your mom.”

I nodded. “I think there was, in a way. We don’t have courts and jails in the wasteland like there were in prewar Equestria. But our escape was a form of justice by itself. Like I said, a small fortune walked out of Appleloosa right under their noses. And that wasted effort was its own punishment. What’s more, I’d bet anything the ponies ‘guarding’ us were absolutely reamed by the other slavers. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear they were the next slaves locked in that cell! That’s the most satisfying justice I can think of.”

“I suppose. It’s a lot to take in, Rusty.”

“It’s the wasteland, Dew. Trust me when I say that was the best outcome we could have hoped for. At the end of the day, we were all free and the bad guys lost. As much as I wish I could have murdered the bastards that hurt my mom, I was in no position to back then. But it feels just as good to have taken out the ones that hurt you.”

“Thanks, Rusty. That means a lot.”

“Of course, hon. Let’s keep going, I think we’re close.” She was obviously feeling much better. Thank Celestia. Even if it would have helped, there was no way I was ready to share that other story about my mom.

“Rusty, what in Equestria are you doing?”

“I’m hacking the terminal, what does it look like?”

We were back in Ema’s room. The smell of our earlier encounter was faint, but still present if you were looking for it. I hoped it wouldn’t be too distressing for Dew, but fortunately she didn’t seem to notice. Telling her what I had learned about the humans must have been a good enough distraction.

This room seemed to be the best place to wait for Ema. There was only one entrance; a decent defensive position if the Cloppers discovered my earlier killing spree. This was her own room, so I knew she’d be back here eventually. And since she never gave me a way to contact her, waiting was our only real option. Might as well be here.

“I know you’re hacking it, the question is why? Don’t you think she’d be mad if you broke into her stuff?”

“Three reasons. First, I’m bored. Second, she’s not going to notice a hacked terminal once we start questioning her. Third, I want to see if there’s any dirt I can dig up on the Cloppers before she shows up. Now shush, I’m almost in.”

Dew stepped up beside me and watched as I closed in on the password. “Still, she’s going to find out you broke in eventually, right? Why risk that if you don’t know if there’s anything worthwhile in there?”

“Forewarned is forearmed.” There, access granted. “And I guarantee you they’ve got something hidden. Their ‘love all creatures’ act is way too disgustingly wholesome to be anything but a cover. Now let’s take a look.”

I was disappointed by what showed up. The only networked function had to do with their security system. Everything else was local to the terminal. It looked like the only files available were created by Ema. Some sort of calendar with her work schedule, a couple of personal notes, and then nothing but corrupted garbage. I scrolled through the nonsensical file names just in case.

“That was certainly a waste.”

“Not a complete waste, Dew,” I grinned. “I’m no longer bored.”

Then, right in the middle of the gibberish symbols, my cursor stopped on a legible file. Project Kinder Enrollment Interview: Subject CX-3, Striking Summit.

“Hey, take a look at this.” I angled my hoof terminal so she could better see it. “Ema said something about these recordings being a lost history of the humans. Think it’s worth a listen?”

“Not much else to do, I guess. Let’s hear it.”

I selected the file and an oddly accented voice began to speak…

“Final confirmation interview, subject Striking Summit, unicorn. First off, do you mind if I call you Summit?”

“Not at all, practically everypony back home calls me that.”

A second voice? Male, apparently a unicorn from what the first speaker said. This must be a different type of recording from the others we’d heard; there’d never been a human talking on one before!

“Well, Summit, this final interview is mostly a formality. Everyone here is quite happy with your qualifications. Do you have any questions you need resolved before moving forward?”

“Bro, I’m chomping at the bit to get at my mares! I’m not going to waste any time if I don’t have to!”

“I know you’re excited. Hell, I would be too if I was in your position. But I need to make sure you’re ready for everything this job requires.”

“I’m ready for the secrecy part, I had plenty of practice with that in MWT.”

“It’s not just secrecy, Summit. You remember the part about never being allowed back to Equestria?”

“As much as I’d love to come back from the dead and brag to my old unit about my literal harem, I’m perfectly happy to say goodbye to Equestria. Here I’ll have more willing mares than Casaneighva!”

“Variably willing. We’re still seeing some resistance among the pegasi.”

“What? You said you’d have that fixed!”

“We said we thought we’d have it fixed. It’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

“Ugh. Look, I’m not turning this opportunity down just because you humans can’t get your shit together. I just want it on the record that I’m not happy.”

“Noted. In any event, the initial demand is projected to be primarily for unicorn foals, so we’ll have some time to concoct an effective drug before you’ll be required to mate with any pegasi. And worst case, we can have our contact in Xeno-Psych tweak the mind control she’s been working on. You’ll have your harem. Pegasi and all.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Just remember: not a word of this to anyone outside the Kinder program.”

“Yeah, I got it. Don't talk to any ponies, and be extra careful around humans.”

“Wonderful. Welcome to the team, Summit.”

Oh, shit. This was definitely not the best thing for Dew to be hearing right now. I looked over to her. Her expression was shocked, but it was swiftly transitioning to enraged.

“She knew. That slut of yours knew. She’s dead! I’ll bucking kill her!”

“Whoa there, Dew, we can’t do anything rash!”

“Don’t try to defend her just because you got your rocks off with her! You think I didn’t smell that funk as soon as we walked in? She’s in on it, the whole bucking ship’s in on it!”

Dew began stomping towards the exit. I quickly turned my attention to the terminal and activated the door locks.

She must have heard the click. “Rusty? Unlock the damn door!”

I logged out and disconnected my hoof device. “Sorry, Dew, I can’t let you out like this.”

She whirled around to face me, her horn lighting up as her expression darkened. “Rusty. Let. Me. Out.”

Reasoning with her was clearly out of the question; I’d be hard pressed to convince myself in the same situation. I’d have to phrase it as a trade.

“Ok, Dew, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll unlock the door, but first you have to listen to what I have to say. And I mean really listen, not just blow me off. Then I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

Her eyes narrowed at me, rage boiling just under the surface. “Rusty, if you think I’m just going to calm down after hearing those… savages!”

“I’m not expecting you to calm down. I just want you to direct your anger at the ones who deserve it. There have to be other Cloppers that know what was going on, but we don’t know if Ema is one of them.”

“Rusty, that recording was on her terminal!”

“And I had to scroll through pages and pages of garbage to get to it. She probably only used that terminal for writing notes and never bothered looking for anything else! And did you hear what Summit was talking about? His unit, and the Ministry of Wartime Technology? Dew, that recording was almost two hundred years old! Everypony involved in that Kinder project is long dead. So even if Ema knew about the recording, she’d have no reason to think there was anything going on now. If we find out she does know about what those assholes did to you, we can deal with her then. Not before. Get it?”

“...Kenneth.”

“Pardon?”

“Kenneth. The translator I was with. He brought me to that room and got the others. They’re the assholes who did that.”

“Okay. Well, Kenneth and the others are dead, and as far as we know Ema wasn’t involved. Are you still going to kill her?”

“Not right away. She better have a damn good story though.”

“Agreed. Damn good.” I disengaged the locks, and we settled in, waiting for Ema to arrive.

Ema was taking quite a long time to return. As minutes dragged into hours, Dew and I started to fill the time with conversation. It was incredibly awkward at first. Considering my preference to avoid socializing, and the intense emotions Dew was keeping just under wraps, I'm surprised we even started talking at all. I don't remember who spoke first, or even what the subject was. But over the course of our wait, our conversation shifted from awkward, to familiar, to friendly. It felt like Dew was starting to return to her old, earnest self. I, for the first time, was truly feeling grateful for her company. Was this what a friendship was like?

“So tell me, Dew, what exactly would you have done once you found Ema and realized you didn’t have your weapons?”

“Right, right, that wasn’t my smartest moment. But I was pissed off, can you blame me?”

“Not a chance! Shit, I would’ve done the same thing back in Appleloosa if there wasn’t a unicorn literally holding me off the ground!”

"Ha! I would have loved to see that!"

"I'm sure it was incredible. I was just a few inches from the ground, legs pumping at the air as fast as I could move them, all while hissing at that unicorn to put me the fuck down!"

We were so engrossed in our conversation that we almost missed Ema's entrance. "Ah, Rusty," came a voice from beside me, "it is good to see you back here. And is this your companion from earlier?"

I looked over to the door as Ema stepped through and it closed behind her. "Ema, meet Dewdrop. Dew for short. Though I guess you met before."

"Briefly." Dew chimed in.

Ema's eyes swung over to Dew. "Yes, I certainly remember. Kenneth was the translator assigned to accompany you, correct?" Dew nodded in response. I noticed Ema's eyes glance down to Dew's badge, then immediately back up. "And I see you have been designated as a Konfidulo class. I am glad; I was suspicious that Kenneth's ultimate intentions with you may not have been fully honorable."

Oh, Ema. That was the wrong thing to say.

Dew's eyes narrowed, but she remained where she was, tense but unmoving. We had talked through this possibility. I toggled the command on my hoof device, covertly connected to Ema's terminal, that activated the door locks. Her expression grew puzzled as she spun around to examine the exit. "Odd, I believe there is something the matter with the door."

"Ema, turn around."

She did so, taking a couple seconds to realize I had drawn my pistol and was pointing it directly at her chest. "Rusty? What is going on?"

Dew answered instead. "You are going to explain exactly what is going on with you Cloppers, and how much you knew about what Kenneth was going to do to me. And don't try to run. That pistol will disintegrate you before you reach the door."

"I do not understand! Your badge; he could not have fulfilled his aims and still named you confidant! You would be malcerta, at most!"

"Malcerta? With the blue badge? That’s exactly what he named me. But Rusty gave me a promotion. Pulled that red one right off Kenneth's corpse. At least I assume it was Kenneth, could have been any of the four others that were in there."

A flash of primal fear across her face; Ema's expression showed she finally realized what kind of situation she was trapped in. Her life could end at the tongue of a trigger, and the only way she'd survive was if she kept us happy.

"Very well. I suppose I cannot plead ignorance to Kenneth's activities. What is it you wish to know?"

I had to give her credit, she was keeping remarkably calm, given the circumstances. Dew began the questioning:

"How common is what I went through?”

“That is a complicated question to answer. As far as the specifics of what you went through, your experience was unique.”

“You mean it’s never happened before and you still let him do it?!” Wow, and I thought Dew had been pissed off before… She looked like she was ready to tear Ema’s throat out with her teeth!

“That is not what I meant by unique, Dewdrop. I was referring to your arrival within our territory. It has been decades at least since we had to concern ourselves with the unexpected appearance of a pony at our borders. What was unique was the procedure of welcoming ponies we had not anticipated.”

“Some welcome,” I muttered.

Ema continued: “The actions Kenneth and -- I assume -- his company committed upon yourself are not infrequent. I personally do not approve of such a drastic act…” Dew scoffed at this. “...but there is a substantial portion of our faction who think nothing of forcing themselves upon a less-than-willing victim.”

“‘Less-than-willing?’ That’s the worst euphemism I’ve ever bucking heard! Even from the Enclave politicians!”

“There are nuances I am trying to explain, Dewdrop, if you would let me.” Ema sounded like she was getting mouthy. I cleared my throat to get her attention and pointed my pistol directly at her face. “We don’t need your lip, Ema,” I said around the mouthgrip. “Just answer our damn questions!”

“I apologize. Dewdrop, your experience appears to be unique in yet another way. When newly-arrived ponies are not amenable to our proposals, their compliance is frequently achieved through the use of mind-altering substances. Your current state indicates this was not the case. I had assumed Kenneth would follow standard procedures, but it appears he was tempted by the allure of an unwilling pony free from chemical influence. I am sorry for this; your experience would not have been nearly as traumatic had he followed standard policy.”

“You’re telling me you bucking drug ponies before you rape them? And everyhuman here is okay with this?! Rusty, I’ve heard enough. Shoot this bitch.”

Dew’s words barely registered with me. The implications of what Ema had just told us were coursing through my mind at lightning speed. I hadn’t considered it before, but now… why hadn’t I questioned Ema’s advances? After that… other incident… I was sure I’d never have sex again! And Ema had confessed to giving me stamina enhancing drugs… sweet Celestia!

“Rusty!” Dew yelled. “Did you hear me?”

“Ema.” I put as much force behind my words as my shocked state could allow. “Did you give me those drugs?”

“A small amount, Rusty. They were administered to counteract any loss of libido you would have suffered due to your medical treatment.”

“Rusty!” Dew was livid. “Kill her already!”

The horror of what Ema had admitted to me was just starting to hit. It felt like I was back in that campsite, the still-warm body lying next to me, the violation still fresh in my mind…

“Dammit, Rusty!! Give me the gun and I’ll do it myself!”

“If I may interject,” Ema said shakily, “that may not be the best course of action for you.”

The glow and force of Dew’s magic trying to yank the pistol out of my mouth snapped me out of my stupor. “Hang on a second, Dew.” I turned my focus to Ema. "What do you mean, the 'best course of action?'"

“What I mean.” Ema replied, “is that you are currently in no danger from the Clopper community. The precedent for a pony that fights back against and kills her attackers states that her punishment shall be exile. In your current situation, you would be expelled from our territory with all your belongings. We would not attempt to harm you unless you attempted to return. However, should you kill me now, the entirety of the Clopper community would hunt you down and execute you.”

“I’m not worried about a bunch of wussy medics,” Dew stated bluntly. “Rusty, would you just shoot her already?”

“That is not the only effect of killing me.” It was actually kind of impressive how calm Ema was when talking about her own death. “My comrades would gladly invite the Guros across our borders to assist in hunting you down. Our mutual hatred would be put aside in the interest of punishing a murder taking place in our territory.”

“Like we care about that,” Dew spat. “Rusty’s got your security system hacked. We’ll let the turrets kill the whole lot of you!”

I wasn’t expecting the level of disbelief evident in Ema’s reply: “That’s impossible! The entire security system has been offline since the great rending!” That was an odd thing to say; I’d had no problem accessing the system after hacking in. But speaking of...

“Um, actually, Dew? I only have access to the turret in this room and the one just outside. We’d be screwed if we had to fight off two factions from here.” I probably should have let her know about that beforehoof. Oops.

“Are you bucking serious, Rusty?” I nodded sheepishly. “Dammit. All right, Ema. You win. Grab my gear and you can bring us to the exile point. I assume there’s somewhere we can go that isn’t Guro territory?”

“Indeed, Dewdrop. The physicists are the other faction whose borders meet ours. I will gladly show you to them.”

Physicists? “That actually doesn’t sound too bad,” I told Dew. “Nice straightforward name, don’t think we could go too wrong with that.”

“Quite right, Rusty. They are quite insular, but our interactions indicate they are simply interested in understanding the natural state of Equestria.”

“Good enough for me,” I said. “Dew, you ready to go?”

Ema was as good as her word. It was a short trot to where Dew’s equipment was stored. Then down several flights of stairs, ending in a room almost identical to the one we had used to enter Clopper territory.

“Rusty, Dewdrop, this is your destination,” Ema told us as we all stepped through the sliding glass door. “Beyond this room lie the physicists. I have informed them of your impending arrival; they shall not be surprised as I was when you entered our territory.”

“So are we in their territory now?” asked Dew.

“Not quite,” Ema responded. “We are standing in neutral territory. No faction controls this room.”

“Good enough.” In a flash, Dew’s horn lit up, levitating her pistol. KRACKOW! She stowed the pistol back in her clothing before the ashes of Ema’s body had even started to crumble.

“Dew?!” I yelled. “What the fuck was that?”

“That,” Dew said in the coldest voice I had ever heard from her, “was a killing taking place outside Clopper territory. Nothing for them to get pissed about.”

She turned away from me and strolled nonchalantly past Ema’s ash pile. “Come on, Rusty, let’s see what these physicists are like.”

I trailed behind her as I tried to process what I had just seen. Could this really be the same scared mare who had been following me all this time? Was there anything else she was willing to do that I thought had been beyond her? And most importantly, what kind of pony was she turning into?

Chapter 8: Lost and Found

"Hello? Any humans around?"

There had been no welcoming committee as we entered the physicists' territory. The room was bright and well maintained, a stark contrast from the abandoned top level of the Guros' turf. But it was just as deserted.

"What do you think?" Dew continued, turning her attention to me. "Maybe the Cloppers didn't actually let them know we were coming?"

"Gee, Dew, if only there was a Ponish-speaking Clopper we could ask. Oh wait, there is! I just hope she's still willing to talk to us after she was vaporized!"

"All right, you made your point," Dew scoffed. "I'm sorry for killing the human that drugged you and let me be assaulted."

I was again struck by just how indifferent Dewdrop was to the murder that had just happened. In the space of a few hours she had apparently forgotten that watching a killing can be pretty fucking traumatic. Apparently it was now my job to remind her. "It's not just that, Dew. Did you think of how the physicists would react to a pony that murdered a human right outside their territory? They're probably shitting bricks right now!"

Dew at least had the decency to look slightly guilty. "Oh... I hadn't thought of that. Hey physicists!" she shouted to the walls. "We're not going to hurt you! Look, I'm taking the battery out of my gun!" The lights on her pistol faded as her magic removed the battery and placed it in her overalls.

What a change. We had entered Clopper territory while being assured we wouldn't be harmed, and now we were promising the same thing upon entering their neighbors' turf. The hunted had become the hunters, or however that saying went.

"Nothing," Dew said in a huff. Then, "Hey, does something look off about the floor?"

I barely had time to look down myself before a set of metal bars shot up with a loud clang around me! They were almost touching my sides; I could barely move!

Dew let out a shout of surprise. I couldn't turn my head, but I was able to see her out of the periphery of my vision. She was trapped like I was, her cage extending from floor to ceiling. "Rusty? Are you okay?" she shouted to me.

"I'm stuck, just like you," I yelled back.

"Did we set off a trap?"

"Both of us, at the same time? When neither of us were moving?" Now that I knew there was something to see, I was able to make out the odd pattern on the floor that Dew had called my attention to. There were evenly spaced circles recessed into the ground, and the bars surrounding us matched up perfectly with the pattern. "Somepony else must have triggered it! There's no way we'd be stuck this tight in a preset trap!"

Then all the lights went out.

Dew and I both shouted this time. The only light I could see was coming from my hoof terminal and the rear of my pistol's barrel. There was none coming from Dew’s direction; her own pistol was powered down. I heard her take a number of quick, shallow breaths, then her horn lit up, dwarfing the meager light I was able to provide. I guess she finally remembered she had a light spell.

"Ok, who's messing with us?" Dew shouted to the walls. "I know you're there, show yourself!"

Her voice reverberated off the metallic walls, quickly fading to nothingness, but we heard no reply. I kept scanning the walls that were within my line of sight, hoping to catch a glimpse of just who was fucking with us. But I was only able to inspect part of the room before without warning, her horn winked out. We were back to near total darkness. "Dew?" I called to her. "What happened?"

"My- my horn doesn't work!" she shouted back. "I can't cast any spells! I can't even see!"

"Give your eyes some time to adjust, Dew! I've got some light with me, you'll be able to see it soon!"

For a few moments, all I heard from Dew's direction was her rapid breathing. It sounded like she was on the edge of panic. To be honest, I was near hysteria myself. Then I heard her voice again. "There it is! I can see something!"

Immediately after she finished speaking, there came a massive crash from in front of me! I heard Dew continue, muffled this time: "What happened, Rusty? Your light's gone! Are you still there? Please! Answer me!"

“I’m here, Dew! It sounds like there’s something in the way!”

“It’s pitch black here, Rusty! I’m starting to freak out!”

“Keep talking, it’ll help! I’ll see if I can do anything over here!”

“Talk? About what?” She sounded near her breaking point.

“Anything! Tell me a story!”

“Okay… ‘Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria…’”

All right. Now that her panic was under control, I could focus on what was going on around me. My night vision had improved to the point where I could see the walls to my sides, lit up with clashing colors and shadows from my meager light sources. In front of me, though, the floor abruptly ended in a pitch black line. I could hear Dew’s story, faintly, continuing from the other side of the void. Now, was there any way I could move?

I tentatively lifted my hind leg. I thought I might be able to try bucking down the bars behind me, but to my surprise, my hoof met no resistance as I bent it outwards! What? I had felt the bars there before! I lifted my other leg, with the same result. Could I actually back out of my prison? How long had it been open?

“Dew, I think I can get out of my cage! Try it, are there bars behind you?”

“Ow! No, I’m still stuck!”

Well, it had been worth a shot. I took a tentative step backwards and felt the bars at my sides squeezing at my barrel, but as I thought, there was nothing blocking me from backing out. It would certainly take me a while, but at least I was finally making some amount of progress.

I had only made it a few inches when Dew’s frantic voice cut through whatever was separating us. “Did you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear anything, Dew." And her yelling shit like that was not helping my own mental state. "Hold tight, I’m working my way out!”

“There it is again! It’s coming from behind me, you have to be able to hear it!”

“Hear what? You’re saying it’s coming from over here?”

“Those thuds! They have to be right next to you!” Dew's voice was rising higher and higher.

“There’s nothing here, Dew! I’m seeing nothing, I’m hearing nothing!”

Dew was screaming now: “There’s more of them! They’re coming from all over!”

“Dew, what’s going on?” I struggled against the bars as I tried to hurry my escape. I had to find a way to reach her, she sounded terrified!

“Those thuds, and scrapes, and screeches! It’s so loud!” I could hear her sobbing. “No, please, leave me alone!”

“What? Is somepony there with you?” I threw myself against the cage, hoping beyond hope that I might be able to bend the bars and hurry my escape. If somepony really was coming after her, I had to get to her fast!

“Stay away! Sweet heavens, please don’t kill me!”

“Dew! Hold on, I’ll find a way there!” Damn these bars! It felt like I was about to break a rib as I forced my way through them!

“Rusty, help me! NOOOOO!!” Dew’s scream reached a crescendo as my barrel finally squeezed through the narrowest section -- only for my rump to hit something solid. I whipped my head down and peered behind me. No… how were there more bars? What the fuck was going on?

“Dew! Are you still there?” There was no reply. “Dew? Answer me!” Only silence.

I shouted out to the void. “Who are you? What do you want with us?”

There was an answer, of sorts. With a series of earsplitting slams, the black oblivion from where I had heard Dew’s last scream extended to completely surround me. The walls, the ceiling, even the bars, all of them disappeared. The entire visible universe was reduced to my own dim lights, my legs, and a small patch of floor beneath me.

I don't know how long I spent in that one spot, fixated on the pattern of circles under my hooves. There had been no sound apart from my own breathing since Dew's final terrified scream. I saw nothing farther than a couple feet away from me. My senses had effectively vanished. I was utterly, horribly alone.

However long it took, I eventually realized the implications of what I was missing. Touch. I couldn’t feel the bars keeping me in place! I tried shifting my weight. There was nothing obstructing me! The next step was turning up the brightness of my hoof terminal, to use it like a makeshift lantern. Its cool blue light spread out, creating an island of light in the sea of darkness as I raised my hoof higher. And as I had hoped, there were no bars visible within its reach!

I could work with this. One last thing to try before I set off into the gloom. I pulled my pistol out of its holster and fired a single shot. “OW!” That thing was fucking bright! Okay, new plan. I stared directly at my terminal screen until my eyes adjusted, then fired again.

It worked much better the second time. The beam shot far out into the black. It almost immediately disappeared from view, but at least I had learned one thing from my experiment. It hadn’t impacted anything nearby. Wherever I was, it wasn’t the same room I had seen before the lights went out.

Knowing this, it almost seemed pointless to try exploring. But I had no choice. Dew was out there somewhere, and I couldn’t let her face whatever was hiding in the dark by herself. Once again, I lifted the makeshift flashlight on my hoof to expand its reach, and set out on a three-legged trot.

There was only one advantage this mysterious room granted me: the regular pattern on the floor continued wherever I went. There was no chance I’d stray from my original direction as long as I followed a straight line of holes. My sense of time had returned as well, and I was able to keep track of how long I had been walking with some semblance of accuracy.

It had been nearly ten minutes of hobbling along with my foreleg held high when I saw it. A dim light, far in the distance. It was off to my left, but I was more than willing to stray from my path if it meant finding something else in this endless night. As I approached, the pale yellow separated into its red and green components. Soon, I was able to make out the pool of light it cast upon the floor. And as I reached the edge of the illumination, I was finally able to identify the object.

Dew’s pistol.

I hesitantly lifted my hoof higher, fearing what I might uncover by extending my view. I couldn't think of any reason Dew would abandon her pistol, and I despaired at what I might find through further exploration. But I had no choice. I had to find my friend.

I stepped forward, slowly illuminating the floor beyond the pistol. My heart sank as I picked up signs of a dark stain between the gaps in the floor. I was almost certain I knew its implications, but there was still a sliver of hope. The stain wasn't necessarily red; there were plenty of other colors that would show up black under my blue light.

But as I travelled further, I saw the outline of a misshapen pile, located completely within the stain. I drew nearer, and felt my stomach twist into knots as I picked up enough shadowy details to identify it.

It was Dew. I was staring directly at her body, twisted inward horribly upon itself. Congealed blood seeped from enormous triangular wounds in her side, spreading out into the stain that I knew I couldn't bring myself to step upon. Any hope that she might still be alive was shattered when I saw the massive injuries on what was left of her head.

Dew... No...

I sank back to my haunches, my heart sinking with me. Dew was gone. Whatever unknown force it was that attacked her, it had succeeded. I had failed to keep her safe.

Tears welled in my eyes as the reality of what I had lost came crashing down on me. “Dew,” I sobbed to her broken body, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I was such an ass. I’m sorry I drove you away! But I promise, whatever those things are that took you, I’ll track them down and destroy them. I’ll scour every inch of this damn ship until I avenge you!”

“You hear that?!” I shouted to the void. “ I’m coming for you! I don’t care what the fuck you are, you’re dead when I find you!”

The void responded. An illuminated square appeared barely fifty feet from me. There appeared to be a thin mist filling the intervening space, but I could make out the distinctive shape of a human doorway.

“That’s where you bastards are?” I broke into a gallop, not even watching to make sure there was floor beneath me. “Get ready, I’m coming to end you!”

The door slid open as I approached, revealing a second door down a short hallway. I didn’t even consider the implications of running blindly into an enclosed space; I just barreled forward in mindless rage. As I should have predicted, the first door closed behind me.

But I didn't care. “What, you think you can trap me again?” I challenged my unseen opponent. I drew my pistol and aimed it at the far door. “I’ll just blast my way out! You’re never going to stop me!”

Before I could tongue the trigger, the door fell forward, off its tracks. It landed with a deafening crash and a massive cloud of dust. The smell of rust and decay hit me like a sledgehammer. I slowly stepped forward, blinking, my pistol at the ready.

The room before me was massive. Bigger than even the docking bay Dew and I had discovered, and in far worse condition. Industrial spotlights pierced the gloom far above me, cones of white reaching down and each illuminating an individual circle on the floor. The air was thick with dust. Streams of fine particles slipped through the light and added to the otherworldly sensation. I saw rust and stains in the few areas of the floor that were unconcealed by debris.

“Trying to hide in here?” I tried my best to sound tough, hoping it would distract me from my growing apprehension. I fired a few beams into the spaces between the lights. “Come out and fight me!”

I caught a substantial motion out of the corner of my eye, too big to be just whirling dust. I whipped my head around. Was that it? I tensed, ready to unleash a barrage of shots at the monsters tormenting us. ...me. Oh, Dew…

Movement again! I focused my vision, expecting to see some atrocious beast. Instead… a griffon? It was reared back on its hind legs, wings folded by its sides. It slowly spun around to face me.

"Hello?" I called out. "Who are you?"

I received no response. Instead, as the griffon continued its turn, it moved into the shadows and out of sight.

“What’s going on? Can you hear me?”

A few moments passed. Then the griffon reappeared, beak pointed directly at me, glassy eyes half open and unfocused, claws dangling limply. Dead.

What a useless distraction. The griffon’s body swung back out of the spotlight. Now I could make out the rope suspending it from the ceiling far above. A flying creature hanging itself? I’d seen stranger things, but not by much.

I stepped away from the corpse, keeping a lookout for my quarry. I had promised Dew I’d take her murderers out. There was no time for distractions. I clung to the shadows, skirting the edges of the brilliant beams emanating from the ceiling. I was so focused on the hunt that I neglected to watch where I was stepping. Squish. Ugh, what the fuck had I stepped in? I shook off my hoof and bent down to investigate.

It was a pony. Dead, of course. I was barely able to make out its form, and a discolored trail heading away from it, towards the light… wait…

I slowly turned my head to follow the trail to its destination. Now that it was fully lit I was able to identify it. It, and all the other stains I had seen illuminated in this room. And I now had a good idea what caused the floor to rust as well.

Blood. All over the place. Some of it brown and flaky, obviously years old. Some deep crimson, more recently spilled. Some still liquid, reflecting the light, that hadn’t had time to dry. I had been walking over it all this time! I shuddered as I was reminded of the blood spilling from my friend's body. I involuntarily took a step back.

Lights blazed on from all over the room! I thankfully wasn’t blinded, but as I took in the full details of my surroundings, my thankfulness faded to fear.

I was in a morgue. I had never seen so many bodies! They ran the gamut from bare skeletons to creatures I would have thought were sleeping if not for the blood covering their carcasses. The pony I had stepped in turned out to be a donkey, its mouth stretched open wider than I would have thought possible! Over to my side, a green pegasus with one of its wings stretched out, covering a black insect carapace. As much as I wanted to rejoice in the death of a pegasus, she didn’t deserve to die in a place like this! These sorts of scenes repeated over the whole extent of the room, it was a miracle I hadn’t tripped over a corpse before now!

And like magic, all the lights went out. I was reduced to seeing only the glow of my hoof device.

“Motherfucker…” I had hoped I was done with this shit. Terror was creeping up on me once more. Time for some more fake confidence. “Are you seriously pulling this again? Just come out so I can kill you!”

That was apparently too much to hope for. There was no creeping monster revealing itself, only a solitary, unmoving glow from the far side of the room. Fuck. Well, nothing else to do but make my way to it.

As I cautiously took my first few steps forward, I started to reflect on my situation. I was alone again, my first and only friend killed by the monsters keeping us captive. Whether it was the physicists or some other shithead aliens, I owed it to her to exact violent revenge on them. That was my primary goal. And it would help immensely if I knew who the fuck they were.

What did I know about them? They were murderers, though considering the moral failings of the two factions I had already met, this was probably the rule rather than the exception among humans. They had access to the ship’s systems, that much was obvious. They had a tendency towards the dramatic, as evidenced by their selective use of lights. And now that I thought about it, most of the dramatic shit was in response to something I said or did. Were they experimenting on me? One of the first things Whispering Meadow had told me back in that cell was that they loved doing tests. That must be it! I’m a test subject! That realization was enough to banish the fear from my mind, replacing it with determination. They want a response? I’ll give them a response to die for! I continued towards the light in the distance, a new confidence fueling my steps.

My trip took forever. I was inching along, focusing on the small bit of ground I could see around me, and gingerly stepping around any cadavers. Several times I had to retrace my steps after encountering a solid wall of bodies. There was no way I was going to risk putting my hoof through another corpse. I was already nauseated enough from the body fluids still caking my leg, there was no way I was going to risk any more. And who knew what nasty-ass diseases were just waiting to infect me? Nope, no more disturbing the dead if I could avoid it.

I finally drew near enough to the light to identify it as a terminal. At last, some good news. Hopefully I could put my skills to use and hack my way out of here. Or at least figure out where my target was. I swear, if it just led me to another chamber of horrors I was going to blast a hole to the next level down.

Three surprises awaited me as I warily crept forward. The first: this wasn’t one of the terminals I was used to seeing on this ship. It was pony-made; it looked like it had been taken right out of a prewar Robronco storeroom! Focusing on the screen, I saw the second: the terminal wasn’t even locked! So much for needing to hack it. The third came as a sudden crunch beneath my hooves. I looked down. Dammit. The minute I stop paying attention to the ground, I step on another corpse. At least it wasn’t mushy this time. It was another one of those insectoid things, dead for long enough that only its outer shell remained. An “exit-skeleton,” I think it’s called. I kicked it away and, at last, accessed the terminal.

It was indeed unlocked, and there was exactly one line of text at the top of the screen. Audio Log: Day 3 Post-Megaspells. “Fucking Tartarus…” What was it with these recordings? With how often they showed up, it was like they were the single most important thing on this ship! I could only hope, as I selected the file, that some more options would open up once it finished playing.

An oddly buzzing voice came from the terminal, too consistent to have been caused by unshielded wiring. I absently wondered what kind of creature would speak like that, as I began to listen:

Audio diary, Infiltrator Ripple, Ephema hive. It’s been three days since the end of the world and the destruction of my home. I was in radio contact with northeast command when they reported radiation spiking to lethal levels throughout the hive. Contact was lost soon afterward. I personally observed eight megaspell detonations, including one at my destination, the Dodge City secondary rally point. I changed course to the tertiary rally point, but I somehow lost consciousness along the way.

I woke to find myself undisguised, in an unknown facility. I assume I’m deep underground, as I’ve seen no sunlight and felt no radiation since I arrived. The layout of this facility is confusing, with many dead ends and circular paths. Every corridor I explore eventually leads me back to this room. I’ve done my best to create a map of the routes I travelled, but the paths seem to pass through each other, never coming into contact. I’m certain there’s some wild magic at work that allows such impossibilities.

My store of love is nearing its end, and I will most likely die here, sharing the same fate as the other bodies I’ve seen. To any creature that may hear this message, I’ve transferred a copy of my map to this terminal. I will continue to search for an exit and if I succeed, I will return and mark the way to freedom. Even if I’m the last member of my hive, I won’t abandon our ideals. As long as there is breath in me, I will continue to act for the benefit of all creatures, not just Changelings. The hive lives on in the gift I leave here.

I had to admit, I’d never heard of any creature that lived in a hive. But I'd bet good caps it was probably the same bug I’d kicked away from the terminal. And a map sounded pretty damn useful. Thanks, bug buddy! Sorry you couldn’t make it out. Oh, and sorry about that new hole in your chest too. My bad.

As my hoof reached out to access the terminal, it slid into the floor, revealing yet another dimly lit hallway behind it. Okay, these games were really pissing me off. “For fuck’s sake! Learn a different trick already!” I was sure they were still trying to scare me, but I was far beyond feeling any fear.

I stormed down the corridor, pistol at the ready. Once again, it ended in a closed door. “You fuckwads going to lock me behind this one too?!” I yelled as it opened before me. I wasn’t shouting to distract myself from the situation anymore; I was pumping myself up for the inevitable confrontation.

The door led to a small room this time, reasonably lit. Finally. I was sick of trying to navigate by the light of my hoof device. I scoped out what I could of the room while hanging back in the hallway. I couldn’t see anything out of place, but that wasn’t too reassuring considering I had just seen a terminal disappear before my eyes. I stepped over the threshold, quickly glancing to my right. Good, nothing. To my left…

“Rusty, how did you get over there?”

“DEW?!”

She was alive?! Somehow... She was standing up straight, no visible wounds of any kind, and her pistol was stowed in its normal spot in her overalls! This wasn’t possible! I had seen her body lying back behind me! Hadn’t I?

I raced over and wrapped Dew in the tightest hug I had ever given. “Dew! I can’t believe it!”

“Hi, Rusty. Um, why are you so excited?”

I ended my embrace and stepped back from her. “Excited? I’m ecstatic! I thought you were dead!”

She looked at me askance. “Dead? How could I have died in the ten seconds it took you to show up over there? And you still haven’t explained how you managed to loop around me so fast!”

Wait, what did she say? “Ten seconds? What are you talking about? I’ve been wandering in the dark for an hour, at least!”

"An hour? Wow, your sense of time is way off!" She craned her neck to examine my head. "Do you have a concussion or something?"

This whole situation was making less sense every second. “Okay, let’s back up. What’s the last thing that happened before I showed up here?”

Dew fixed me with the most incredulous look I had ever seen in a pony. “Well, if you need a reminder, my magic had gone out and I had just gotten used to the darkness when a huge crash came from where you were. Then the lights turned back on, my magic came back, the cage retracted, and there was a brand new wall between us. And then you came charging in from the opposite direction! What’s going on with that?”

I was wondering the same thing myself. Had Dew seriously lost over an hour of time? And what about everything else I had heard? “Are you telling me you don’t remember screaming about the noises all around you?” She shook her head no. “No crying for help?”

“The last thing I told you was that I could see your light, Rusty. I don’t know how you turned that into screaming and crying, but I’m honestly a little insulted!”

What the fuck was going on here? “Dew, stick close to me. I don’t want to get separated again,” I told her as I trotted over to where I had dropped my pistol. “Something in here is messing with our heads, and we’re going to find out what it is!”

“So it really took you an hour to get here?” she asked as she followed me over to the doorway. I nodded in the affirmative. “Then I’m with you. No splitting up, we watch each other’s backs, and we get to the bottom of this!”

I bent down to grab my pistol in my teeth, but hesitated as I heard a sound coming from a different direction:

“All right, good job, everyone! Wrap it up, and I’ll go greet our new guests!”

I turned to face the voice, only to see the solid wall in front of me shimmer and fade, exposing a wide glass window with several humans on the other side. A door opened beside the window and one of the humans stepped through.

"Dew? Rusty?" the human spoke, folding its hands together. "My name’s Alan. Welcome to the horror block."

Chapter 9: Sufficiently Advanced Technology

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.

Chapter 10: The Unveiling: Part 1

The world righted itself around me in a burst of red light. I noted, with some dismay, that my surroundings were not much better lit than my previous environment. In the dim blue glow of the small room I found myself in, I could make out Dew’s anxious form through the piles of garbage that surrounded me. She was twisting in circles, apparently trying to see something near her cutie mark.

“Rusty! Thank the skies, I need your help! I think the teleport might’ve taken off my tail!”

As funny as it might be to watch her chasing her tail, I couldn’t leave her hanging. “It’s still attached, hon. That was something the Estro made up. One last scare before we left.”

Dew stopped spinning and fixed me with a disbelieving stare. “Seriously? What is wrong with these bucking humans?”

“More things than I can count. Including, apparently, their cleaning skills.” I knocked one of the scraps of scattered trash away with my hoof. “It’s like they’re turning this place into their very own wasteland.”

“No kidding. And it might go beyond cleanliness, too.”

“Huh? What makes you say that?”

“It’s almost as if the wasteland has made its way up here,” Dew said, as she played with her own piece of debris. “We’ve already seen torturers and rapists, and we just left the sadists. If we run into diseased cannibal slavers next, that’s every wasteland stereotype in one place!”

“Wow.” That was certainly food for thought. “I hadn’t thought of that. And it goes beyond stereotypes. Limited resources? Isolated factions? And infighting too, if you believe what Vivian said about an uprising.”

“Yeah... Rusty, why doesn’t somepony do something? There have to be heroes in the wasteland, right?”

That prompted a bitter chuckle from me. “Going back to comic book logic again?”

“Rusty, I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

That earned an incredulous look from her. “Really.”

“Yes, really. Heroes work great in comic books, where they always save the day and any defeat is temporary. In real life? They save the minute at most, and defeat comes in the form of a bullet through the head. Sure, you hear occasional stories of do-gooder ponies, coming from caravan tales and over the radio. But they never stick around long enough to make much of a difference. Becoming a hero is the easiest way to guarantee yourself a short life.”

“Is that how everypony in the wasteland thinks?”

“Pretty much.”

"So it would take somepony from outside the wasteland to really make an impact?"

“Probably.” Wait. I was suddenly suspicious of where this conversation was going. “Hold on. Dew, you’re not seriously thinking you could be a hero, right?”

“Don’t be silly, of course not!” Thank Celestia the mare had common sense. I was worried for a second. “We both could be heroes!”

My heart skipped a few beats. Despite the dim light, I could tell she was completely earnest. “Dew, didn’t you hear what I said about a short life?”

“Well, yes, but that was down in the wasteland! It’ll be different up here!”

“We literally just had a conversation about how the wasteland is up here too!”

“It’s like the wasteland, not the same thing!”

“Close enough. Dew, there is no fucking way you’re going to convince me to go off heroing with you.”

“But Rusty, earlier you said we were going to fight all the humans on the ship! How is being a hero any less dangerous?”

“Hon, I said that because I was pissed off and desperate. I’m not taking any more risks now that we’ve got a possible way out.” I started looking around for an exit door. I had to get away from this madness!

“What about all the captives the Guros and Cloppers have? We need to do something for them!”

“If we try to be heroes, we’ll end up in the same state as those captives!” Found the door. I started clomping towards the exit.

“Rusty, what happened to wanting to do better?”

I paused in my tracks, my heart caught in my throat. Fuck. That’s twice now my words have come back to bite me in the ass. But she was right. Dammit. Dew had shown me that I could be better. And for her sake, that's exactly what I'd have to be. I turned to face her and caught her pleading look.

“...I guess that means I’ll have to be a hero.”

Dew let out a squee of delight and clapped her hooves together... hold on, that wasn’t a squee, that’s a squeal! And it’s not coming from Dew, it’s… everywhere?

I could feel the air vibrating as the walls lifted around us, neglected machinery grinding as it struggled to life for the first time in what must have been years. The blue lighting was drowned out by a crack of brilliant green surging through a gap at floor height. As the gap expanded, I was able to make out more and more of the massive chamber being revealed to us. What was it with these humans and their enormous rooms? Even the most ostentatious wasteland buildings I had explored never had so much wasted space! The green lights turned out to be rows upon rows of glass cylinders far below us, each topped with a dome of blinking lights and a thick cable running to a central column. Only a few darkened cylinders broke up the regular pattern, like dead pixels on a terminal screen. Despite my irritation at the massive waste of space above the cylinders, I had to admit the effect was rather impressive.

Finally the screeching of tortured metal ceased, and I was able to hear Dew’s voice as the final echoes died away. “...really have a thing for the dramatic, huh?”

“You said it.” I had been hoping we’d left that shit back with the Tragicians. “Well, we followed Pinkie's instructions. Now what?”

“I guess we keep moving? There’s stairs over here going down to the next level. Lit up and everything. We should probably take them and head towards level forty-six. Our next stop is Engineering, after all.”

“Give me one second.” I still wanted to check out the exit door I had spotted earlier. Call me contrarian, but I felt that when given such an obvious path, there had to be something else hidden elsewhere. Scavver habit, I suppose.

The door was still there, but it was shut tight, with no convenient terminal nearby. And lockpicking had never been my strong suit. “Okay, obvious staircase it is.”

“You think it’s a bad idea?”

I shrugged. “We don’t know anything about the humans on this level, except that they’re not Engineers. Brightly lit stairs just scream ‘trap’ to me, but I don’t see another option. Unless you want to levitate me down?”

“I’ll pass. Way too far for me to jump after you.”

“Fair point. Stairs it is. Guns out, we don’t want to be caught flat-hooved.”

We proceeded side by side down the steps, our bodies casting shadows on the ceiling from the luminous white steps. The stairs appeared to meet the main floor right next to the central column. As we advanced, I took a closer look at the cylinders. I was able to determine that their glow wasn’t uniform, but it wasn’t until we were almost at the bottom that I could make out what was causing the difference in luminosity.

“Dew, hold up,” I whispered to her. “Do those look like humans in those glass tubes?”

“Yeah, you hadn’t noticed yet? I think they’re being held in stasis or something, those look like feeding and breathing tubes going into their faces.”

“You mean you knew what they were and didn’t say anything?” My shitty perception was going to get me killed one of these days. “Don’t you think that’s something worth calling my attention to?”

“You do know what stasis means, right?” She was looking at me incredulously. I nodded back at her. Come on, Dew, just because I’m a wastelander doesn’t mean I’m completely ignorant! She continued, “They’re just sitting there; that means there’s nothing to worry about. We need to keep our eyes peeled -- open, sorry -- for things that can actually hurt us.”

“Point taken.” We could worry later why everyhuman here was trapped in a tube.

The final few stairs took us right between a row of humans floating in their glowing capsules. We stepped gingerly in spite of our apparent solitude. The eerie stillness of the chamber made us feel like we were stepping into a mausoleum. I knew it was foalish to be scared; the humans I could make out through the dingy glass showed no recognition of our presence. Still, it just felt spooky.

We reached the ground floor directly in front of the large central structure. I had called it a column before, but that word was completely insufficient to describe what we were seeing. The base was an enormous glossy black bulb that expanded from the floor, then tapered at least twenty feet above our heads. From that point a massive collection of silvery pipes and cables spiralled upwards before reaching out and descending to individual glass tubes.

The whole assembly was easily the most alien-looking thing we had seen since arriving on the ship. Eerie, otherworldly, intimidating; whatever it was, it was giving me the creeps.

And then, a noise. A multitude of soft voices rose from all around us. The bulb in front of us began to glow a soft blue, its intensity pulsating along with the speech I could now just begin to make out.

“...they have come...”

“...the oracle was correct...”

“...those who travel between...”

“...rust and water...”

“...what will their actions be…”

Another set of walls rose around us as the bulb’s light coalesced into an image of a featureless human face. I bumped into Dew; we must have instinctively moved towards each other upon the realization that there was something watching us! The individual voices died out, and the image’s mouth opened to speak.

“Welcome, ponies. We have been expecting you.”

Despite the major creepiness factor, I felt a sense of relief. At least this thing wasn’t trying to kill us. We were stuck for now, but safe. I could sense Dew’s body relax beside me as she apparently came to the same conclusion.

“The Tragicians called down ahead of us, huh?” I said, before stowing my pistol in its holster. The creepy factor was fading fast, this looked like another faction’s overly elaborate welcome. “Fancy reception you all put together, but that kind of shit is getting old. Not every faction needs a dramatic reveal, you know!”

“The Tragicians are insular and ableist! They could tell us nothing! We have known of your arrival since before you entered this vessel!”

“...it was foretold…”

“...years, decades…”

“...fulfilling their destiny…”

I caught Dew’s sidelong look before she continued where I left off. “That’s more than we needed to know. I have to admit I’m a little curious about how you knew to expect us, but it’ll have to wait for later. We’re on a mission and we really would prefer to complete it without too many distractions.”

“...she is unimpressed…”

“...were they contacted before?...”

“...must not deviate…”

“Tell us. What is your mission?”

Okay, things weren’t adding up here. “Are you saying you knew we were coming but not why?”

“Our knowledge is incomplete.”

“...always seeking…”

“...so much more to know…”

“...another perspective…”

“...never enough…”

Dew facehoofed with a drawn-out sigh. “All right. Let’s just get to the point. Who are you and what do you want?”

“Your mission! First, you must tell us your mission!”

“...the mission…”

“...we must know…”

“We’re heading down to see the Engineers,” Dew responded. “That enough for you?”

“The Engineers… They mock those who pursue their own passions, yet they inwardly yearn to take part!”

“...they are to be pitied…”

“...they are yet dangerous…”

“...such potential within them…”

“...they must be made to join…”

“Is this seriously all you ever do?” I spat out. You just sit around and judge everypony -- everyhuman -- everywhatever?!”

“That is our purpose! We are the Analysts! We observe and interpret!”

“...only we can judge…”

“...we are the stronghold of knowledge…”

“...we speak what is true…”

“What’s with this we brahminshit? Are you seriously saying everyhuman here buys into this?”

“There is no everyhuman! We exist together! Our minds are one! We are one!”

“...all agree...”

“...minds linked together…”

“...the consensus is all...”

Well. I thought I had seen the craziest shit these human factions could come up with, but I was obviously mistaken. Did they really link their minds together? How many chems did they huff to think that was a good idea?

“‘We are one?’ Then what are those other voices coming in after you?” Dew asked. She was apparently less concerned with the implications of mind melding than I was.

“They are but echoes, reiterating the truth that was spoken!”

“...whole truth…”

“...nothing but the truth…”

“Great.” Dew’s shoulders slumped as she sighed. “We’re in a literal echo chamber.”

Echo chamber. Must be some Enclave expression. “Getting back on track, you were going to explain why you’re keeping us here. Right?” Heroes or not, I was about ready to start shooting if they dragged this out much longer. The only issue was, between the curved screen and the walls, the amount of damage I could do was bound to be minimal.

“We offer a trade.”

No echoes this time. Thank Celestia. “All right, what’ve you got?”

“...so blunt…”

“...valuable viewpoint…”

“...acceptance unknown..."

...And there they were.

“Knowledge traded for perspective. We are the caretakers of all that has transpired concerning this vessel and its inhabitants. We offer you enlightenment on matters few equines have even pondered! In exchange, we desire your assessment of what you have witnessed.”

I glanced over to Dew, confused. She apparently shared my feelings on this exchange. “I’m sorry, am I hearing this right? You’re going to tell us your history and all you want from us is to tell you what we think? What kind of trade is that?”

“The terms are as you stated. The transaction is valuable. Knowledge is important, commentary even more so.”

“...when all facts are known…”

“...like, comment and subscribe…”

“...outsider’s perspective…”

“And if we say no?”

“...unacceptable…”

“...disappointing…”

“...must comply…”

“Then you will not be permitted to leave.”

Well. That certainly would put a damper on things. “Looks like there’s not much choice, Dew. I don’t see any way we could fight our way out of this, and having to sit through a lecture and take a survey isn’t the worst fate.”

“Yeah. And it’s not like we’re in any position to negotiate, either.”

“That too.” I turned my attention back to the screen. “All right, we’ll do the lecture. How long is this going to take?”

“The transfer of knowledge will take minutes, though in your minds it will appear to last longer.”

“...direct transfer…”

“...melding of minds…”

“Wait, you mean you’re going to plug us in to your collective?” Oh, now Dew was worried about the hive mind aspect.

“You are concerned about being forced into the consensus. Do not worry, we are only interested in your perspective. This perspective would be tainted if you are joined with us.”

“...thoughts read, not written…”

“...unique opportunity…”

“...analysis pending…”

“Dammit, whatever.” Anything to get us moving again. “Dew, I already had my mind read once today by that Pinkie freak. It’s not that bad. Let’s just get it over with.”

“Fine,” came her reply.

“...success…”

“...gratitude…”

“...pinned comments…”

“Excellent. Please remain still. Uplink will initiate momentarily.”

Two dark, twisted cables emerged from the central column, heading in our direction. As the nearer one contacted my head, there was only one thing my addled mind was able to think.

“Never should have checked out that wreck…”

Interlude: Collective Memories

1,268 years ago, Sopiro City, planet Nyjord, Epsilon Eridani system…

I look out from eyes that are not my own, feeling the movements of a body unfamiliar to me. I stand upright in front of a gigantic terminal screen. I'm human. Another human stands beside me, only slightly taller than me. We speak in a language I have never heard before, but I'm somehow able to understand it as if I had known it my entire life. Just like I somehow know my name is Adeline, and my companion's is Evan. And how I somehow can read the mysterious script on the screen. And somehow know the planet we're discussing is the one where I will be born over a thousand years later. I speak first.

“We are talking about the same planet, right? Phi Hydrae b? The one with the irregular rotation and the wobbling sun?”

“That’s right. We finally managed to send some probes that weren’t immediately destroyed upon system entry.”

“What? That system was like a black hole! Do you have any idea how much money was poured into figuring out what was going on there?”

“I’m sure I don’t want to know. But the fact remains, we now have multiple feeds coming back from low orbit around that planet.”

“How? How did you manage that? Evan, we’ve been sending out probes for fifteen years!”

“Honestly? Disguises. There’s an intelligence there that must have been taking out everything else we sent. But if the probe looks like a space rock, it’s not recognized as a foreign object.”

“You’ve confirmed an intelligence on the planet?”

“More than that. We’ve confirmed it -- they -- are responsible for the irregularities in the orbital mechanics.”

“That’s impossible. Nothing can move a celestial body like that.”

“And yet it moves. Here, let me show you. Keep an eye on the moon’s position.”

“...Is that a unicorn?”

“Alicorn, technically. See the wings? Now watch. The horn lights up purple, and right there, the moon shifts fifteen degrees ahead in its orbit.”

“Unbelievable. You’re sure this is accurate?”

“I’ve got over a hundred examples I could pull up for you. And just as many for the sun. Different alicorn, different target, but same effect.”

“Fuck me. I knew psi was a thing, but on this scale? It’s more like magic!”

“No argument here. Keep in mind, those are the two most powerful beings we've detected. But as far as we’ve seen, every single creature on the planet has some amount of psi. And when I say ‘some amount,’ it’s still orders of magnitude more powerful than the strongest human.”

“Incredible. They’re going to throw every award ever created at us!”

“Hmm… In that case, I may need a bigger office.”

“You got it. Shit, you’ll probably get an entire wing of the building!”

Two years later…

Same planet, same city, same humans, slightly different location. I rush breathlessly into a room where Evan stands, closely inspecting a printed report. He turns to greet me as I enter, but I speak before he can.

“Evan, you’re not going to believe this.”

“Adeline? What is it? Did they cancel the manned expedition?”

“No, that’s still going on. But we may have to expand its scope.”

“Expand the scope? Why?”

“You’ll want to sit down for this one.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Honestly, I don’t know how to feel. Seriously, you should take a seat. You know I was guest lecturing last week, right? And of course everyone wants me to talk about what we’re doing here. Well, one of the undergrads came up to me after the lecture. She said the pictures I showed looked an awful lot like something they had learned about in her Archaic Entertainment course.”

“Archaic Entertainment?”

“Some kind of core credit elective. I had never heard of it either. But she told me there was an entertainment program from the beginning of the 21st century that class had covered a month prior. Strikingly similar to the probe images.”

“21st century? Why are they studying that? That’s 1800 years ago! Pre-spaceflight!”

“Not quite pre-spaceflight. It was the chemical propulsion era, prior to expanding beyond the Earth system, but they were definitely post-spaceflight.”

“Either way, that’s still a ridiculously long time ago!”

“Yes. Which makes this next part even wilder. I checked out that old program, Evan, and the similarities are beyond coincidental. Everything is stylized, but the creatures, abilities, location… it’s all spot on. Even to the point of the orbital anomalies!”

“Shit… And there’s no way they could have known about our mystery planet?”

“Not a chance. There's no way their technology could have detected a planet outside their own system! And that’s not even getting into the specific details of the planet’s inhabitants!”

“Ancient psi development then?”

“That’s the only explanation that makes sense. But there’s more. There’s a surprising amount of interest in that old program. It’s been included in the Archaic Entertainment course for a number of years, and there are quite a few students -- current and former -- that have taken a liking to it. And once word got out that there’s a planned expedition to a planet that’s almost identical to their favorite program… well, the number of qualified volunteers has increased exponentially.”

“How exponentially are we talking?”

“Thousands. Tens of thousands.”

“Wow. I’m glad you had me sit down. Looks like we’ll need to pick another asteroid to convert.”

Eight months later…

Epsilon Eridani system, 10 km above Asteroid Eitri Alius. Evan and I stand in the observation room of an executive transport, gazing out at the nearly completed research vessel.

“It’s hard to believe how quickly this progressed.”

“I know what you mean, Adeline. Supervisor Ngcuka was telling me how lucky we were to find a mined-out asteroid that still had its surface mostly intact. Even so, I wasn’t expecting to leave for another year, at least! But look at it. The Bussard ramjet finished installation yesterday and equipment loading is past seventy percent. In just under a month, the Metaroido will be under way!”

“Have I mentioned how much I hate that name?”

“You have. Several times.”

“And I’m going to mention it again. Seriously, for a first-of-its-kind starship, you’d think Senator Thang would go for something more creative! But no, we need a ‘basic template that will stand the test of time.’ I wish I could take back my decision to let him name the damn thing.”

“And as you’ve noted before, he was the one who pushed its creation through Congress. We needed him. Giving him naming rights is a small price to pay.”

“But still. ‘Metal Asteroid?’ Most of it isn’t even metal!”

“It’s just a name. Don’t worry about it. We won’t even be able to see it from the inside.”

“It’s the principle, Evan. I hope all the letters fall off.”

Thirteen months later…

Phi Hydrae system, Research Vessel Metaroido, 200 km above planet Equus. Evan and I stand in a spacious room, accompanied by Chief Engineer Randall Kodjo. We take in the wreckage of what was once the Metaroido’s massive jump drive. Randall speaks first.

“As you can see, this damage goes beyond mere sabotage.”

“No kidding. I assume there’s no chance of repairing it?”

“Absolutely none. Even if we repaired the structure, the pentaquark core was vaporized. Without it, there’s no getting back into jump-space. They knew exactly what they were doing. We’re stuck here.”

“He’s right. Synthesizing pentaquarks is far beyond this ship’s capability. And Equus will need millenia of technological development before it can create exotic matter on its own. Our only option is calling for help. Maybe they can divert another Metaroido to pick us up.”

“Fucking hell. All right, I’ll head up to IT. See if Nyjord is picking up yet.”

A deep rattle shakes the room. Bits of dust fall from the ceiling. Randall puts his hand to his ear. He’s receiving a message. He shakes his head.

“Ma’am? They just took out the hangar. At least thirty dead.”

“Damn. Adeline, you better get to IT before they destroy the transmitter too.”

Three minutes later…

Communications room, level 45. I frantically tap at a touchscreen. Words appear: Sopiro University, Nyjord. There’s no image. Audio only.

“Nyjord! Are you receiving?”

“We hear you, Metaroido. Make it quick, it’s not a good time to talk.”

“Is that Pamela? I don’t care how busy it is, Pam, we’re in deep shit here! We need assistance!”

“You and the rest of the galaxy. I’ll mark you down as surviving, but that’s all I can do. You’re pretty low on our triage list.”

“Surviving? Triage? What’s going on?”

“Massive simultaneous attacks across the entirety of human space. Uprising centered around Sharatan. We’ve lost contact with three-quarters of our remote research teams. There’s a fleet battle taking place in high orbit and I need to get back to setting up a backup command center in case our side loses.”

“Pam, listen! We’re trapped here, we need you to send help!”

“Nyjord out.”

I stare at the screen for several moments before speaking quietly to myself.

“Sharatan. Didn’t think the bastards would actually do it.”

I activate my command chip and access the emergency function menu. I trigger the timed lockdown. One minute. I turn on shipwide communications. Everyone will know what is going on.

“This is Research Lead Vong. The Metaroido has been disabled by mutineers. I am initiating a total lockdown. You have forty-five seconds to reach whatever location you believe will be safe. Good luck to you.”

I log off and snap my command chip in half. Even if they reach me, it won’t do them any good. I look out the window at the extensive array of stasis pods. If the fighting continues for too long, they’ll be my salvation. Ironic that I originally argued they were unnecessary.

Five days later…

Same room, same Adeline. I'm trapped with hundreds of others in the IT section. Fighting continues, though thankfully not on these levels. The transmitter was destroyed, but we are still able to receive signals from other human worlds.

They call it the Breakdown. As the uprising spreads, fewer and fewer planets are able to communicate. After four days, there was only one voice still broadcasting. Today there are none. They planned their revolt well, even bringing agents onto the Metaroido.

The Metaroido. I hated that name. Now most of the lettering has been blasted off the ship’s surface. Only three letters remain: ETA. It’s an improvement, but not worth the price paid.

I turn to address my audience. Their eyes are begging for hope, but I have none to give.

“I can’t contact the other departments. Communication lines were severed to some, no one is left alive to answer in others. Our food stores won’t last much longer. There is no choice. We must enter the pods. The uplink system is activated, so we’ll be able to talk to each other while our bodies sleep. I’ll continue to monitor internal communications from my pod, so we’ll know when it’s safe to come out. I wish I had better news for you all, but all we can do now is survive.”

Many nods, many tears. We all disperse, each heading to our own pod. Our aging will be slowed, but not halted. It’s only temporary. The fighting will stop, and the IT department will emerge, unscathed.

More memories. The fighting continues for longer than anyone could have predicted. The barriers in the uplink system begin to break down. No one is sure where their mind ends and the others begin. Leaving the pods is impossible now. We are IT no longer. We are the Analysts.

The fighting stops. Communication is reestablished between levels. The crew has split into factions. A treaty is signed, dividing the Eta into spheres of influence. The original mission is rejected. The creatures on the planet below are now resources to be harvested. Care must be taken to prevent them from noticing; they would surely destroy the Eta if they knew it was here.

Capture quotas are established by the former security team. Guros, they call themselves. The Analysts receive two ponies per year. In exchange, we facilitate communications between the factions. This is an acceptable trade. The ponies’ bodies are not well preserved by the stasis. New minds are always valued. The pony language is learned and incorporated into the analysis.

Centuries pass. We reach the time predicted by the archaic entertainment program. The princess returns from her exile, the ancient Elements are recovered. We Analysts watch closely; the events taking place on the surface are an exact copy of what the program predicted.

Other factions rediscover the program; there are calls to bring aboard the main characters. This cannot be allowed; reality must follow the program to allow for the most complete analysis. An exception is made for the duplication episode. A few duplicates will not be missed.

Our duplicate arrives. She responds better to the stasis procedure. She is an enigma. Her mind cannot be incorporated. She predicts the future. An oracle. Valuable beyond belief.

The safeguards were insufficient. A divergence occurs. The student does not ascend. The program is no longer accurate. The divergence grows. An unanticipated war begins. Disaster.

The divergence provides an unexpected boon. A new pony-made chemical allows the duplicate’s originator to greatly amplify her prophetic powers. The chemical is applied to the oracle. It produces the same effect. More knowledge is gained. The oracle accesses the network in defiance of the consensus. Her link is removed.

The war escalates. The unthinkable happens. Millions die. Worse, an observation satellite decays and crashes into the wasteland. A terrible loss of data acquisition capability.

The crash site is remote, but precautions must be taken to prevent discovery of the Eta. Any trespassing creature is immediately brought aboard. The most recent is a brown earth pony. The one the oracle predicted. His progress will be closely followed.

But I'm not just Adeline Vong. I'm every single one of the Analysts. Both before and after we became one mind.

I'm Gene Tararo, the last Analyst to keep my mind separate as the barriers fell, feeling my fear turn to joy as I surrender my individual thoughts to the group.

I'm Audrey Tambuyong, the Sharatani outcast, who rejected my leaders' belief that we should dominate the stars in favor of exploring them, yet finding that their influence reached me even here.

I'm Frances Hagel, originally of Earth, following my boyfriend to the distant planet of Nyjord and sharing his passion for antiquities, only to be abandoned when I was chosen to join the Metaroido and he was not.

I see thousands, millions of thoughts flying by me. It seems to last an eternity, but somehow I know it’s only taken minutes. At last the barrage stops, and I’m once again alone in my own mind.

Chapter 10: The Unveiling: Part 2

“Fuck me, what a trip.”

I returned to my own, familiar body as I felt the uplink cable detach itself from my head. I heard Dew grunt close behind me; she must have been released just after I was. “Ow. Anyone get the license plate of that skywagon?” And apparently had a rougher time than I did too.

“All right, we sat through your presentation,” I called out to the glowing blue face before us. “That’s all you needed, right?”

“Your perspective was recorded. The agreement has been fulfilled.”

“...all we needed…”

“...sufficient…”

“...so much data…”

“Good to know. Can we go now?” I asked.

“You may proceed on your journey. However, we ask if there is any other courtesy we may provide before you continue.”

“...it’s only right…”

“...help freely given…”

I was prepared to tell them I’d rather eat my own asshole than spend any more time with them, but Dew spoke before I could get any words out. “Actually, yes. That pink pony I saw towards the end? Is there any way I could see her? In real life?”

“This is acceptable. We will bring the oracle to you momentarily.”

“...the oracle…”

“...our greatest asset…”

I glared in Dew's direction. “Seriously? I’d like to get going, if you don’t mind.”

“It’ll only be a minute, Rusty. Then we can go.”

I tapped my hoof impatiently as I heard machinery start to grind in the distance. Before long, I detected one of the multitude of overhead cables beginning to flex. As it retracted into the central structure, it brought forward yet another stasis pod. It was identical to all the others we had seen, except for its glow: bright pink instead of vivid green.

The pod dropped down right beside us, casting its contrasting light over us. I was able to see small figures drawn on the inside of the glass. They looked like a series of dancing ponies. I noticed Dew’s mouth moving as if she was sounding out a word, before my attention was once again drawn to the oversized human face.

“Your request is fulfilled.”

“...a fair trade…”

“...we can”

KRACKOW! A blinding flash cut across my field of view. Dew had fired a shot at the screen! “Dew? What the fuck are you doing?!” I yelled at her.

“Hold on a second, Rusty. Something’s happening.”

I opened my mouth to continue chewing her out, but I was interrupted by the electronic shrieks coming from where her shot had hit. The blue face disappeared, the screen now covered with static. The noise built rapidly, and I saw indicator lights winking out along the lengths of every cable that extended from the twisted mass before us.

Every cable but one.

The screen resolved into an image, pink this time. It now displayed a pony head with wide eyes and a poofy mane. And emanating from the speakers was the same voice I had first heard in the Tragicians’ observation room, just an hour ago.

“Busty! Crewcrop! You made it!”

“Does somepony want to explain to me what the fuck just happened?”

“Pinkie?” Dew called out. “Do you want to tell him?”

“Oh, no, you can do it! You’ll do so much better than I will! Scrunchy tail, never fails!”

“All right.” Dew turned away from the screen and flashed me a quick smirk. “Sorry for the surprise, Rusty, but I couldn’t let the Analysts know what was happening.”

“Which of course begs the question why you had to hide shit from the Analysts.”

“That’s simple! They weren’t planning on letting you go after you watched their memories! They always want more ponies to plug into their brain-melty thing! Oops! Sorry, Screwy, I’m supposed to let you do the talking!”

“That’s fine, Pinkie, don’t worry about it,” Dew said to the pink figure which, despite having the power to see hundreds of years into the future, apparently couldn’t remember names for shit. “But yeah, they weren’t going to keep their end of the bargain. To them, sharing knowledge is the ultimate gift, and just getting our comments on it wasn’t nearly enough to make them happy. They were planning on absorbing our minds and leaving our bodies to decay, just like they do with every pony they requisition. So, yeah. Had to keep it a secret, or they would have grabbed us right away.”

“Okay. That explains the why, but there’s still the question of how you knew all this.” I was beginning to suspect our friend Pinkie was simply a logic sponge, removing it from her surroundings wherever she went.

“Two parts to that. She explained a little bit to me at the tail end of the Analysts’ memory dump. She was saving a backdoor through their access block for when you and I showed up, and added a message for me. Told me what she had done, what the Analysts were planning, and that I should ask to see her when it was over. The rest of it came when I saw her capsule. She had scratched a note in sema-forehoof on the inside of the glass telling me where to shoot. And so I did!”

“There was a note on the glass? How didn’t I see that?”

“You did, but you didn’t realize it meant anything. And neither did the Analysts. But thanks to my Pega-Scouts merit badge in sema-forehoof signals, I could read it!”

“‘Shoot yellow hole under screen!’ And that’s what you did! Perfect shot! Kablooie! Took them all out! Now I have access to all the systems the Analysts were using!”

Dew nodded in agreement. I felt I had to interject. “Sorry, Dew, but aren’t you the least bit worried about giving a crazy pony who’s been here for Celestia knows how long total control of the computer systems?”

“Don’t worry, Crusty! I haven’t waited two hundred nineteen years, one hundred eighty days, five hours, eleven minutes and twenty… three seconds just to turn on you! I told you, you’re the two most important ponies ever brought to the Eta! I’m going to do my absolutely utmost to make sure you succeed!”

“Sounds promising. Succeed in what, exactly?”

“Well… I’m not exactly sure. My mint-al supply ran out a few years ago and my Pinkie Sense isn’t the same without it. I do know it’s important, though, if that helps!”

“It really doesn’t.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll still watch out for you two, and if there’s any system I can access that’ll help, I’ll use it!”

I felt it was best to add a caveat to her offer. “Just make sure you check with us first before trying to help, okay?” I was definitely worried about what form of ‘help’ a deranged two-century-old pony would give.

“Okie-dokie-lokie! Bye Lusty! Bye Dewmop! Call me anytime!”

The screen faded to black and retracted upwards, revealing a staircase descending into the floor. A glowing sign at the far end stated, in red on a white background, “46.” Our destination.

“Well, Rusty? Ready to meet the Engineers?”

“I am. Let’s go.”

I followed her down the stairs, the screen sliding shut behind me as I crossed the threshold. Each step brought me closer to home, and farther away from the crazy pink pony. Let’s go indeed.

Chapter 11: Trapped in the Closet

We walked right into an ambush.

All right, technically it wasn't an ambush, since we weren't being attacked. But it easily could have been an ambush. Except for the fact that the humans confronting us were unarmed. And seemed to be more surprised by our appearance than we were by them. But "ambush" just sounds so much more exciting than "couple of humans sitting on benches in a small, circular room."

“Vi estas invadanto?” one said.

“What did you say?” asked Dew, stopping in her tracks in front of me. “Sorry, I don’t know that language.”

"He was asking if you’re invading us,” said the other.

"Uh, no?" This was not the sort of reception I had expected.

"Good,” the second human continued. “Paul, you handle this. I got a date with some ice cream back in my cabin." She spun away from us and trotted towards the exit.

"What?" responded the other human, apparently named Paul. "You saw the alert first, protocol says you deal with them!" And Paul could apparently speak Ponish.

The first human's only response was to raise her arm as she walked, with what appeared to be her central finger extended.

"Malĉastino," Paul said to himself. “Fucking Trish.”

"Um, hi,” Dew nervously interjected. “I'm Dewdrop, and this is Rusty. Are you an Engineer?"

"Yes, hi, welcome to Engineering. Look, I'd rather not spend any more time than necessary dealing with a couple emissaries. I've got places to be, and I'm sure you do too. Let me get your info real quick, and then I can send you off to someone who actually cares.”

The patronizing tone was depressingly familiar from my time in the wasteland. I was tempted to call upon my shock stick buddy to hurry things along, but that would run contrary to my new status as a reformed savage. Civil behavior really sucked sometimes.

“What faction are you, and why are you here?" he continued, ignorant of my internal debate. He pulled what looked to be a small notepad out of his pocket.

"We aren't really in a faction, I don't think," Dew answered, glancing over to me. "Did we ever get invited to one?" I shrugged in response. That wasn’t the sort of thing I’d pay attention to anyway.

"Look, it's very simple," Paul told us. "Whatever group you got sent to after they took you out of your cell, that's what faction you're in. Now who was it?"

"Well, that's the thing," I told him. "They didn't exactly take us out of our cell. We sort of broke out on our own."

Paul blinked a couple times, looking at me like I had just told him magic didn't exist. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"We… broke out of our cell?"

"Feke. I was hoping I'd heard wrong." Paul stepped over to a terminal recessed into a nearby alcove. He began muttering to himself as his fingers tapped at the keyboard. "Perfect. I finish my shift, I'm a minute from hitting the bar, and we get the first intruder alert in years. And of course Trish takes off first chance she gets. So now I get to deal with all this myself."

"Sorry," Dew said. "We can find some other Engineer if it's not your shift. I know how much it sucks picking up somepony else's work."

Paul sighed in response. "Believe me, I’d love to do exactly that. But that's not how things are supposed to work around here. Trish may not care about proper procedure, but I do. The Sup can deal with her work ethic."

"The Sup?" Dew asked.

"Short for superintendent. He's the top Engineer here in the core."

That sounded promising. "When can we meet the Sup?" I asked. "He sounds like the exact human we need to talk to!"

Paul angled his head to face me. Damn, it was still so unsettling to see their necks pivot like that! "One thing at a time. Still need to get you registered here before I can send you where you need to go next."

"We need to go see the Sup."

"I get that, but there are steps to go through first. After I get your information entered, the ombudsman needs to approve it. Then you need to get an exception for an unscheduled arrival. Until that goes through, you won't be allowed out of the intake area. Shouldn't take more than a few days."

"A few days?" I blurted.

"Then, of course, there's the whole 'escaping' part to deal with," Paul continued, ignoring my interruption. "That'll add at least a couple more days while our Faction Relations Coordinator figures out… something, I'm not exactly sure what. After she clears you, then we can see if the Sup has any appointments available. He's on stress leave this week, so he'll be booked solid for a while. And somewhere in there we'll have to run the general health and wellness check, but that can be done while you're waiting for the Sup's schedule to open up. After, of course, you get your lower deck permit; the doc can only perform examinations on level forty-eight. All told, I'd estimate about three to four weeks, minimum, to get a meeting with the Sup."

Most of what Paul said after my first outburst had gone in one ear and out the other, but I could definitely understand that last bit. "Are you seriously expecting us to sit here with our hooves up our asses for four weeks? We don't really need to do all that shit, do we?"

Paul's expression shifted to one that suggested I had personally insulted every single one of his ancestors. "Oh, of course, pony," he said, throwing more scorn than I thought a single creature could contain into that one word. "Let me just skip over every single step in the procedure. We've only been using it for centuries. You two obviously know better than the entire Engineering section. In fact, why don't we get rid of all our repair procedures too? It's not like they're the only thing that’s kept this ship running for a thousand years!"

"All right, do your stupid procedures," I told him. He gave me a final shake of his head and turned back to the terminal. "Just saying, there's a more direct way," I said, mostly to myself.

Dew sidled up to me and laid her foreleg on my shoulders. "I think I know why the Tragicians didn't want to do this themselves," she whispered to me. I chuckled bitterly and nodded in agreement. "We have these types in the Enclave too," she continued. "Heavens help you if you need something from them. They'd rather let you starve than do one step of their precious procedure out of order."

"Of all the things wrong with the Wasteland," I whispered back, "I'm glad we at least don't have to deal with this type of horseshit down there."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Dew replied with some amount of whimsy. "That Tenpony Tower place you mentioned? I'd give you hundred to one odds you'll run into the same thing there. Ponies that have no idea what it means to work for a living love getting caught up in procedure. They probably think a ‘shortcut’ is located right next to the tenderloin!”

“That sounds... depressingly accurate.” Shit. That’d be something to consider before making the final choice to move there. Although... “On the other hoof, rules don’t apply to you if you’re rich enough. I’ll just have to make sure I’m in the top tier of wealth before settling down there.”

“That’s… also depressingly accurate.” Dewdrop sighed. “I may have to steal your ‘selling weapons’ idea. Get my settlement some clout on the Council for once.”

“Hey, what did you say your names were?” Paul’s question cut into our shared commiseration.

“Rusty Rivet and Dewdrop?” Dew replied.

“That’s what I thought.” Paul slid away from the terminal and motioned to the screen with his hands. “You mind telling me how your names are already approved for a meeting with the Sup?”

We took Paul’s place at the terminal. I didn’t notice at the time, but the terminal’s text was entirely in Ponish, not the alien script we had seen previously. Sure enough, our names were listed as the Superintendent’s next scheduled meeting.

“Huh. I guess we did get approved and forgot to tell you?” Celesta, I prayed, please let him believe that. I knew my persuasion skills were shit, but there was a slim chance he wouldn’t question my lie.

Paul looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “You expect me to buy that?”

“...Yes?”

“No.” Dammit, Celestia, you failed me again. “I’ve listened to plenty of bullshit excuses, but that was the worst attempt I’ve ever heard.” Paul locked the terminal, then strode towards the entrance to Level 46 proper. “You two stay here. I’m sealing you in this room while I find out exactly what’s going on with your fake appointment.”

“Locking us in?” Dew interjected indignantly. “How long do you expect us to stay here?”

“You’re free to go back to the Analyst levels if you want,” Paul told us, as he stepped through a sliding glass door and tapped on an object on the other side. The door slid closed behind him and he continued speaking, his voice now coming from a set of speakers above us. “In fact, I would encourage it. Protocol only ties me to you while you’re in our turf. Once you leave, you’ll be someone else’s problem.”

I mimed taking an enormous cock in my mouth as he turned to leave us. I would definitely be staying in this room, if only to piss him off even more. What a shithead. In any case, there was still the question of what our names were doing on an alien screen. Again.

“So, Rusty, any idea how we got that appointment?” Dew was apparently pondering the same things as me. “I know we didn’t actually forget about ‘getting approved.’ Really? That was the best you could come up with?”

“Don’t you start with that shit too.” She grinned and gave me a wink. “All right, you’re forgiven. But I can think of somepony who isn’t forgiven.” I turned to the terminal and yelled, “Pinkie! Get your poofy ass out here!”

“You think she was responsible?” Dew asked.

“Unexplained shit going down? Fuck yeah I think she’s responsible.”

“Dusty Divot! I thought I told you not to use that type of language!”

The text on the terminal’s login screen shifted to coalesce into a rough approximation of the pink pony’s face.

“Yeah, I think it’s justified when you ignore my explicit order!”

“Wait,” Dew cut in. “Pinkie, you’re able to use this terminal too?”

“Well, sure! I’m still trying to see just what I can connect to, the network is in really rough shape! But getting into this one was easy-peasy! And of course I tried this one first, I didn’t want to lose track of my two new friends!”

The idea of a psychotic pony keeping tabs on us until we finally left this Celestia-damned ship was not particularly appealing. We could basically wave goodbye to any semblance of privacy, especially considering her history following orders. Speaking of which…

“Don’t change the subject! Why did you suddenly decide to forget what I told you?”

“Wait, what did I forget?”

For an image composed entirely of Ponish letters and numbers, it did a surprisingly good job of conveying surprise.

“Don’t play dumb. Did I, or did I not, tell you to check with us before trying to ‘help?’” I was pissed. I hadn’t expected her insanity to fuck with our mission so soon after we left her!

“Hmm, let me think…”

More text appeared, overlaying an oversized gray hat and curved brown object onto her stylized face.

“Why is she smoking a pipe?” Dew whispered to me. Okay, it was a curved brown pipe. Sue me, there aren’t many of those lying around in the Wasteland.

“So… if I’m remembering this right, there was a lot of boring talky stuff just after you made the analysts go boom. And Grungy was all ‘I don’t get it,’ and Drippy was like ‘Ha ha, I know what’s going on,’ and I went ‘BEEP BOOP I’M A COMPUTER!’ And then Busty said I couldn’t help unless he said so, even if I really wanted to! Yepperoonie, that’s exactly what you told me!”

“Then why, dear computer, did you ignore what I specifically asked you not to do?!”

“What? I didn’t ignore that! The only thing I ignored was the weird way you pronounce your M’s! You should get that checked out by the way, it’s probably cancer. But I haven’t helped you out, no siree!”

“Then how did an appointment with our names on it get created precisely when it would be most useful?”

“That appointment? It wasn’t created precisely when it would be most useful, it was found precisely when it would be most useful! And I had nothing to do with Paul finding it, honest!”

For fuck’s sake. I felt like I was on the verge of going insane myself. “The appointment was set up before we got here?!”

“Sure! Take a look at the timestamp! Here, I’ll pull it up for you!”

Pinkie’s face disappeared, replaced by the calendar Paul had shown us. The human timekeeping scheme was strange, but I could make out what looked to be a day, month and year. And comparing that to the appointment’s creation time…

“How was it set up a hundred ninety years ago?” Dew gasped. Smart ponies and their quick maths…

“If I had to guess, I’d say it was the Pinkie working with the Closet Bronies! Oh no! I’m sorry, Rushy, I didn’t mean to help without you telling me to! Just forget what I said about other Pinkie! And the Closet Bronies too, now that I think of it. Okay, the last twenty seconds never happened, deal?”

Another Pinkie? What did we get ourselves into?

It was finally just the two of us again. We had extracted promises from Pinkie -- Pinkie 37, since there was apparently more than one we were dealing with -- that she would continue to not “help” us unless asked, and just as importantly, to not contact us unless there were no witnesses. I had no idea what the humans would do if they found a 200 year old pony swimming around in their ship’s network. Better we keep our advantage, if we could call it that, a secret.

It felt like hours before Paul returned to us. I’m sure it didn’t take quite that long, but my previous strategy of passing the time by hacking seemed ill-advised in this case. For one, Paul wouldn’t be as willing to forgive my transgressions as the Tragicians were. Plus, I wasn’t going to risk Pinkie 37 infecting my hoof terminal. Despite her repeated promises, I still didn’t trust her. Anypony that unstable was capable of anything.

Paul announced his presence by once again calling through the room’s speakers. He was flanked by two muscle-bound humans, one taller than any human I had ever seen before, the other shorter, but still impressively built.

“Still here?" Paul's condescending voice reverberated through our surroundings. "Not like it matters much anyway, all I have to do is drop you off and I’ll finally be able to go on break.”

“Drop us off?” Dew shouted to the wall. “Does that mean we get to see the Sup now?”

The door slid open and Paul spoke directly to us. “Yeah. I don’t know how you did it, but we couldn’t find anything out of line with that appointment. And believe me, we tried.

“Follow me,” he ordered, beckoning to us. “Grandeco? Kranio? Sekurigu al ili. Teniĝu ilin proksima.” That last bit was to his companions, who fell in step behind us. Terrific. We were under heavy guard, but hey, at least we were moving again.

“I hope you two are happy,” Paul spat back at us. “My next shift starts in five hours, and if I want to get even close to enough sleep I’ll have to skip dinner. Fikantoj.”

We proceeded in silence through largely abandoned corridors, until Dew finally spoke.

“Paul, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Fekino… What do you want?”

“I was just wondering, do you know anything about closet bronies?”

“Closet bronies?” Paul stopped in his tracks and spun around to look Dew directly in the eyes. “Where the fuck did you hear about that?!”

“Um… I heard it from the Analysts?”

“Figures…” Paul turned back toward our presumptive destination, raising his voice to the level that anyhuman within two levels could hear. “I don’t want to hear you say those words ever again! I don’t care what the fucking Analysts think, we are not in the closet and we are not bronies!”

“Deĉenigio averto,” muttered one of our guards.

I had no idea what those words meant by themselves, but the tone indicated the guard was as annoyed with Paul as I was. I said one more quick prayer to Celestia over Paul’s ranting: “Please let the Sup be close…”

“...Just because we have ponies working with us doesn’t mean we're obsessed over them! We’ve got important shit to do! They’re here to help us, not so we can draw creepy art of them or get them in the sack! That's the most offensive shit I’ve ever heard! We can appreciate them without worshipping them! We focus on Engineering on these decks! Thats! It! If other factions can’t handle that, that’s their problem! Not ours! The shit we have to deal with…”

Chapter 12: Taking Sides

Four floors later, and Paul had yet to stop ranting.

"... they're convinced we've got some terrible things we do to the zebras as well! It's like they can't wrap their heads around the fact that we're just not interested in what's going on planetside! We grab surfacers to help us out, not because we have any desire to keep them as pets!"

The Sup had turned out not to be close by at all. Fuck you, Celestia. I gave you one last chance to prove yourself and you let me down again.

Finally, finally, Paul led us to a nondescript door nestled at the end of a hallway. "All right, we're here.” He tapped a panel inset into the wall before continuing: “Now listen, and listen good. We Engineers are the only reason the Eta is still running. Every single breath you take on this ship, you better thank whatever gods you believe in for the work we do. And if I hear of you calling us closet bronies again, my two friends here will pay you another visit. And they won’t be gentle. Understand?”

Before we could respond, a different voice called out from beyond the newly-opened door. “Paul! Are you yelling at our guests?”

“Just letting them know how things work around here! Don’t worry about it, Will!”

A short, scrawny human stepped into view from behind the doorframe, a surly expression drawn across his face. “Really. Because it sounded suspiciously like your ‘closet bronies’ speech to me.”

“Yes, Will. Like I said, the way things work around here.” Our new acquaintance narrowed his eyes even further at that remark. “You know, the sort of statement you should be making, instead of letting every other faction on this ship walk all over us.”

“Believe me, I’m aware of our status on this ship. But it seems you need to be reminded of yours, Second Engineer Radama.”

“Of course. Please forgive my outburst, Superintendent,” Paul responded, his tone indicating he neither desired nor expected forgiveness. “Mi ne plu bezonas vin,” he told his companions as he turned around and stormed by them.

Whatever that phrase meant, it was obviously relieving to our guards. They visibly relaxed, though they made no other movements until Paul had disappeared around a corner. Then, the tall one spoke.

“Need anything else, boss?”

“Nope,” came the Sup’s reply. “You and Bulk are dismissed.”

Dew presumably noticed my puzzled expression and gave me a quick nudge. She shook her head no when I looked to her in confusion. I guess she had somehow determined I was planning to ask about the sudden change in language. Good catch there, Dew. It’s not a good idea to question bizarre human behavior when we’re looking to secure something from them.

Our escorts turned to leave as the Sup beckoned us forward. “So,” he said to us after the door closed us off from the hallway, “you’re the mysterious ponies who interrupted my break?”

“Sorry about that,” Dew replied. “We didn’t have any clue who we’d be talking to down here, and we certainly didn’t intend to interrupt your stress leave.”

“Stress leave,” the Sup chuckled derisively. “He would say that, wouldn’t he. No, this was a good old fashioned vacation.”

“I take it you and Paul don’t see eye to eye?” I asked. Dew nudged me again, harder this time... oh. Right. It’s also not a good idea to mention height differences when talking to a particularly short creature. I suspected the chances of a successful conversation with the Sup had become quite slim.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice my verbal blunder. “That’s putting it mildly,” he grumbled, as he led us over to a pair of chairs facing a large desk. “I could spend hours going over everything he’s done to piss me off. But I’m sure you’re not interested in hearing about that. You’ve got places to be, and I wouldn’t say no to finishing up this meeting quick and getting back to my vacation.” He took a seat in an oversized chair on the opposite side of the desk from us and leaned forward intently. “So, let’s hear it. What do you need from the Engineering decks?”

After my earlier verbal missteps, there was no way I would volunteer to be the one delivering our request. Fortunately, Dew stepped up to lead the conversation.

“Mister Superintendent,” she said, slipping effortlessly into petition mode, “we’re on a mission from the Tragicians. They’ve made a breakthrough that will allow them to teleport a pony-sized creature to the surface of Equus. They’re all excited about the research opportunities this presents. Even better, from other factions’ perspective, this would break the stranglehold the Guros have on transport on and off the ship. They’ve hit a snag, though, in that the amount of energy required is far too high considering their allotment. So, they sent us here to ask you to increase their assigned power. That’s the gist of our mission, sir.”

A small smile crept across the Sup’s face before he responded. “They finally figured out they could teleport something small, hmm? I was wondering how long it would take them to realize that.”

“They did seem to recognize that ‘insular thinking’ was part of their problem,” Dew smiled back.

“Indeed. And what do you and your companion gain from this?”

Dew nodded knowingly before answering. “I see you know we’re separate from the Tragicians. I don’t know what exactly Paul may have told you, but we’re escapees, not part of any faction. Our end goal is to get back to our homes, planetside. That’s it.”

I realized that Dew conveniently left out the “heroing” part of our plans. Probably for the best. We had no idea what the human reaction to our idea of heroics would be. Smart of her.

“I see. And this would allow other ponies wishing to return to do so?”

“That depends entirely on the Tragicians, sir.” Deflecting a leading question we didn’t know the best answer to? Damn, this mare was good! I made a mental note to allow Dew to handle any future negotiations.

“Well.” The Sup rose from his seat, his height barely increasing as he stood. “I can’t say this proposal comes as a complete surprise; I had expected something like this coming from our friends on the ‘tween’ decks. So I already have my answer ready. No.”

“What?” I blurted. “Why ‘no?’”

Two pairs of eyes immediately shifted over to me; Dew’s with annoyance, the Sup’s with amusement. I sank back into my seat. Dammit.

“Because, Rusty,” the Sup said, leaning forward, “I’d much rather not trust the future of a significant part of my workforce to the idealists in charge of the teleporter. We’re already hard-pressed as it is to keep the Eta running. The chance that we’d lose a good portion of our workers by letting them return to the surface is one I’d rather not take.”

“Are you saying you’re keeping ponies as slaves?” I shouted, shooting upright again. Dew jabbed me hard this time, but I didn’t care. Given my history, slavery was one of those things I just couldn’t overlook.

“Those sound like fighting words, Rusty.” The Sup slammed his open hands on the desk before continuing, “Our ponies are treated as equals and are quite happy here. But given the hope of returning, enough could leave to cause a cascading failure of the Eta’s basic systems! I have human lives to weigh against ponies’ preferences, and I choose the option that keeps this ship running for those of us that have no ability to leave. Understand?”

“We understand, Superintendent,” Dew responded in a much more civil manner than I would have. “But consider this: what if we were able to guarantee the Tragicians would only teleport their own ponies? We could get home, and you would keep your workers. Seems like an agreement that would satisfy both sides.”

The Sup gave a dismissive laugh. “You’re highly underestimating the power of the rumor mill. But sure. If you can get them to agree they’ll only use their own ponies, and agree to cease all communications with other factions, I’ll consider redistributing power. It’ll take a miracle to convince them, though. Good luck, you’ll need it.”

That sounded like a dismissal. And we now had an additional step on our main quest. Why couldn’t things ever be easy? Dew and I got to our hooves, just as the Sup added, “By the way, don’t even think about telling the ponies here about the teleporter. I hear about you doing that, I’ll have Bulk and Skull drop you off with the Guros. Now get going.”

I was just about to turn towards the exit when I heard a sharp click and saw a section of the Sup’s desk separate and slide upward. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it but for his surprised expletive.

“Something going on?” Dew asked.

“The fuck? There’s not supposed to be any compartment there!”

The section of desk continued its rise until it ejected a leaf of paper, which the Sup snatched and began to read. Not five seconds later, he raised a suspicious gaze to us. “Stay here. I don’t know if you have anything to do with this note, but you’re not leaving until I find out.”

Dew and I exchanged confused glances as the Sup sat back down and scanned through the paper. His expression slowly grew more and more perplexed. Finally, his voice expressing utter bewilderment, he passed the paper over to us: “You better read this.”

Dew took the note in her magic and we began to read:

Superintendent William Thiago:

The timed lock containing this letter should open precisely when you first dismiss your visitors, Rusty Rivet and Dewdrop. It is in your best interests to call them back, as they are a key part of the changes about to take place aboard the Eta.

My name is Pinkie Pie 89, one of the Mirror Pool Duplicates of the original Pinkie. I was brought aboard the Eta and assigned to the Engineering faction two hundred years before you will have received this letter. The specifics of how the letter came to you is unimportant. Just know that I have an inherent ability to predict the future -- my Pinkie Sense.

I’m sure you’ll want more evidence of my abilities. If you check your records, you’ll find that I died long before you were born. Despite this, I can tell you that your first crush was on your next-door neighbor Melissa Adilbish, and that you currently have your grandmother’s utility knife in your right pants pocket. Before you ask, (not that you’ll be able to,) I’m not omniscient. There are very specific things I can sense, but everything else about the future is blank.

Still, you know the ability to see even a bit of the future is invaluable. The most important thing I sense, and the reason you’ve received this letter at this time, is the role Rusty and Dew will play in your plans. Specifically, their presence will allow you to launch Plan Sigma within a few days, with them acting as the agitators. I know you consider it the riskiest of all your plans, but I can remove your uncertainty by telling you exactly which factions will join you. You can count on the Tragicians, Robronies, Shippers, and what’s left of the Analysts. (Rusty and Dew will be able to explain that last bit.)

Even though I’ll have passed long before these events unfold, I am eager for you to succeed. Your actions will shape the future of the entire vessel for the better.

I wish you the best of luck.

Second Engineer Pinkie Pie 89

P.S. Please share this note with Dew and Rusty as soon as you’ve finished.

P.P.S. Dew and Rusty, Plan Sigma is your best chance to get home. Give it a shot.

Fucking Pinkie Pie. Again. I now understood the Sup’s confusion, though reading the letter had made one thing a bit clearer for me. I had a strong suspicion as to who exactly had set up that appointment for us.

“Rusty, are you done?” Dew asked me. She was apparently a much faster reader than I was. When I nodded in reply, she hovered the note back over to our human companion. "Well? Changed your mind about helping us?" she asked, waving the paper in front of his face.

The Sup absently lifted it from her magic, looking for all the world like he had just snapped out of a Rage-induced haze. "Wow. Plan Sigma. Didn't think we’d end up going for that one. Excuse me for a moment." He tapped something on the underside of his desk, causing a terminal screen and keyboard to rise up before him. "This is the only thing that's supposed to be hidden inside my desk," he told us as he began tapping commands. "No idea how Pinkie Pie managed to bury something else in there."

"Lot of that going around," I muttered to myself.

“Hey Ruby?” he spoke to the terminal. “It’s Will. Can you come down here? Need to run a few things past you.” He touched one final key and the terminal slid back into his desk.

“All right,” he said, addressing us once again. “I’m sure you realized I had no expectation you’d be able to fulfil my earlier request regarding the Tragicians. They’d never agree to completely cut themselves off; that’s the easiest way for a faction to commit suicide. But now we have an option that’ll actually work. For all of us. I’ll get you two home, as long as you help me out with what I’m trying to do. Deal?”

“That depends entirely on what you expect us to do,” I told him.

Dew nodded at that. “We’re not going to agree to anything until we find out what it is we’re agreeing to.”

The Sup gave us a shrewd smile. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less. Can I at least get you to promise what we talk about here doesn’t leave this room?”

“We’ll keep our mouths shut, Superintendent.”

“Call me Will. And please, have a seat. I’m going to be entrusting you with a lot here, but that letter has me convinced this Pinkie Pie character knows what she’s talking about. So go ahead, ask me anything.”

“All right, Will.” Dew took the lead. “First step is telling us what our role in all this will be.”

“That’s easy enough. You’re going to be sparking a civil war.”

I don’t know how long we stared blankly at Will after he dropped that balefire egg of a revelation on us, but Dew was the first to recover. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re the agitators that will be starting a civil war.” Will gave a bemused chuckle. “I promise, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Not as bad as it seems? I don’t want to be responsible for starting a war!”

“Believe me, my dear mare,” an elderly voice spoke up from behind us, “this is a war you’ll want credit for starting.”

“Ruby! You made excellent time getting down here! Let me introduce you to Rusty Rivet and Dewdrop,” Will addressed the newcomer. “Our potential agitators for Plan Sigma. Dew, Rusty, this is Ruby,” he said, turning his attention back to us and pointing to the elderly human who had just entered the room. “She’s the former Superintendent and an absolute genius when it comes to what makes all the factions tick.”

“Flatterer.” Ruby shuffled around the desk to take a seat next to Will. “But I won’t argue with your assessment. I’ve always been particularly good at sensing people’s hidden motives. And what I see on this ship is a heap of factions working at cross-purposes. I spent my entire tenure as Sup taking advantage of the Engineers’ ability to mingle with others and working behind the scenes to keep the peace. But the divisions just kept growing. Which is why I’m glad my friend here was the one to replace me. We needed a leader resolute enough to preserve our faction when the dam inevitably breaks.”

“Now who’s being a flatterer?” Will smiled back at her.

“Believe me, Superintendent, I wish we didn’t need a leader like you.” Ruby returned his look with a serious gaze. “I will always believe a soft touch is better in the long term than your style of a firm hand. But there’s no need to spend ages discussing our approaches to leadership. You were wondering why provoking a civil war would be a good thing, correct?” she asked, returning her attention to Dew.

“Yeah… Especially once you started talking about a soft touch and long-term benefits! Seems a bit inconsistent!”

Ruby sighed and leaned back in her chair, a distant look in her eyes. “Very astute, Miss. You’re right, of course. But there’s a method to our collective madness. Let me ask you a question. Which factions have you encountered thus far aboard the Eta?”

That was not the sort of question I had anticipated. It seemed to catch Dew off-guard too. With how much Will and Ruby seemed to love their theories and politics, a question with a concrete answer was completely out of character.

“Guros, Cloppers, Tragicians, and Analysts,” Dew answered suspiciously. “And Engineers, I suppose.”

“And are you aware of the relations these groups have with one another?”

“They all seem to hate each other…”

Ruby gave a slight nod in response. “I won’t argue with your assessment, though in truth it’s quite a bit more complicated than that. But I was referring to their transactional relations, not their attitudes towards each other. Specifically, to the trade in ponies and the other Equestrian creatures.”

“Guros ponynap creatures and dole them out to the other factions, right?”

“Precisely. And, of all the factions you’ve visited, did any of them seem to be a place where ponies would be happy to stay?”

Will gave an exasperated sigh at Ruby’s question. She shot him a severe glare. “Please. Let our new friend answer.”

Dew seemed to be putting quite a bit of thought into her reply. “I suppose it depends on your definition of happy,” she finally said. “I don’t think a pony forced to endure the sort of obsessive behavior we’ve seen could be anything more than okay.”

"Exactly right. And I'm glad you brought up the 'obsessive behavior' as well. The reality is, closet bronies are the only faction that doesn't see ponies as something to focus their obsessions on."

It was my turn to let out an irritated sigh. "Look, I'm getting pretty sick of every faction jerking themselves off and saying they're the only ones who really care about ponies. Just drop the brahminshit and admit you’ve got ulterior motives with us!”

“You’re absolutely correct, dear.” I was once again surprised by Ruby’s response to us. I would have expected a clumsy denial at the very least! “We do have ulterior motives. Any human aboard this ship who tells you otherwise is deceiving you,” she continued.

“But didn’t you just say your faction is different from all the others?” Dew retorted, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“We are different, just in a very specific way. I’m sure you’ve noticed the particular… passions… each faction manifests towards their Equestrian subjects. Whether it’s the Guros and their love of torture, or the Analysts and their desire to probe ponies’ minds, there is a single underlying obsession hidden within every faction’s assigned role. Every faction, that is, except for one.

“We Engineers individually have our own obsessions, but they are not the driving force behind our existence. In fact, most of our people would deny having any particular interest in ponies, regardless of any evidence to the contrary! This is why we are disparagingly referred to as ‘closet bronies’ by others on this ship. Our true feelings are kept in a metaphorical closet, not to be revealed even to our fellow Engineers.

“At the end of the day, this is why you want a civil war. With the Engineers, and our allies, in charge, there will be no more underlying obsessions expressed through each faction. The obsessions will still be there, but stored in the closet, not acted upon. And the Eta will finally have equality between the races.”

“Wow,” Dew declared after a long pause. “That’s a lot to take in.”

“No kidding,” I added. Dissecting all the shit that was just thrown at us was way beyond anything I had been required to do before, in or out of the Wasteland! Back when I was dealing with Ema’s verbal diarrhea, there hadn’t been any consequences from straight-up ignoring three-quarters of it. Here, with the talk of civil war, I was loath to overlook anything! The problem was, I was certain I had missed at least something. It did sound like we’d at least be playing heroes. I think. I’d have to rely on Dew’s obvious experience handling dense speech.

But there was one rule I knew I could apply, something important I'd gathered from all my years in the wastes. Never take somepony’s opinion -- especially of themselves -- at face value. I’d be hard pressed myself to determine if our Superintendent acquaintances were spewing horseshit at us, but I could at least make sure Dew had the tools to figure it out!

“Listen,” I announced. Two pairs of wary human eyes swung over to meet my gaze. “I’ve still got to go back to the whole circlejerk thing! Everything you just told us means fuck-all if we’re only hearing it from you!”

Will’s expression switched from suspicious to harsh quicker than I could blink. “Rusty,” he said, his tone of voice friendly but betraying an underlying sternness, “I appreciate your candor. Hell, it’s downright refreshing to hear down here. But don’t think for a moment you can get away with insolence as a guest here in my office!”

“Really, Tiger.” Tiger? Must be Ruby’s pet name for Will. Wonder what the story was there? “I don’t think it’s quite necessary to speak so severely, especially to a pony still open to helping you! And do keep in mind,” Ruby continued, a playful sparkle in her eye, “this is still effectively my office as well.”

“Come on, Ruby, you know I hate it when you call me that…”

“And as for your concerns regarding our biases,” she said, regarding me, “would it help to hear from a non-Engineer?”

“It’s a start,” I told her. “As long as there’s proof it’s not an Engineer pretending to be something else.” Dew gave me an approving nod.

“I think we can manage something.” She turned to face her human companion and asked, cryptically, “Did you do the standard nondisclosure?”

“Ruby, I don’t know what you’re getting at…” She shot him a severe glare. “Yes. Yes we did.”

“Perfect.” She raised her voice and called into the void, “Pinkie? You can come out now!”

“Hiya Rubbie! Hi R&D! Good to see everypony!”

The Sup’s terminal once again emerged from the top surface of his desk. The Sup himself was showing a mess of emotions. He looked like he simultaneously wanted to throttle Ruby, rip his terminal from its casing, and hide under his desk.

All I could do was groan in irritation. “Not again…”

“Ruby? Is this our Pinkie Pie? How the buck do you know about her?!” Dew was apparently trying to make sense of the situation. Good luck, hon.

“I don’t know if she’s necessarily your Pinkie Pie, dear. Still, I think she would fit the bill for an independent source, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Independent is one word for it,” I caustically told Ruby. “But I do know she’s too unstable to play along with a ruse for long. So if she was listening all this time…”

“I was…”

“Then I’m confident enough to take you at your word. At least so far.”

“Ruby.” Will had his face buried in his hands and was looking out through his interwoven fingers. “Can you please explain exactly what the fuck is going on here?”

“I’m with Will,” Dew added. “Pinkie, we let you out not half an hour ago! How does Ruby already know about you?”

“Oh, Rudely’s known me a lot longer than just a half hour, Dewderp! Actually, she was the one who brought me…”

“I’ll take it from here, Pinkie.” Ruby cut the modulated voice off abruptly. “Believe it or not, I’m a bit of an enigma myself. I'm one of only a hooffull of humans to ever switch factions. And as far as I know, the only one to switch multiple times. I started out in a particularly nasty one -- I’ll tell you about them later -- but I left when I was much younger. The factions are usually incredibly strict about allowing humans between decks, but I guess they realized a six-year-old couldn’t cause too much trouble. And because there was precedent -- you’ll hear that word thrown around quite a bit -- no one really cared if I moved between factions. It took a while, but I finally came down to the Analysts’ level. And holy moly, were they ever glad for the company! That’s the place where I met Pinkie, of course. I would bring books and games for us to share, and even though she couldn’t leave her tube, we became very close.”

“You were a lot more fun than those meany-pants Analysts, anyway. They took away my coffee tube!”

“Yes, I’m sure that was a dark day for all involved. Moving on, I ultimately settled in the Engineering levels. No real reason for staying here, it just felt right, I suppose. I eventually became Superintendent, passed the torch to little Tiger over here, and was just enjoying a nice coffee of my own when Pinkie popped up in my terminal to say hi!”

“Yep! Now that the Analysts aren’t around to keep me locked up anymore, I can say hi to you whenever I want!”

“Wait just a damn minute!” Fucking Luna, what was Will upset about now? “What the fuck happened to the Analysts?”

“Oh, they’re all dead. I got an alert about twenty minutes ago,” Ruby said, with a surprising lack of sympathy.

“You got an alert? How did you get an alert when I didn’t?! Dammit… Ruby, tell me the truth. Did you actually ever turn the Superintendent position over to me?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, Tiger.”

“Well.” Everyone’s attention shifted to Dew upon her sudden interjection. “We can sit here and discuss office politics all day, but I’d like to get back to figuring out what the two of us need to do to get back home!”

"Of course, dear. I'm sorry, I do tend to get carried away. Let me explain what's going on with Plan Sigma…"

Dear. Sweet. Celestia. If I thought the meeting with the Sups had been tedious before, the explanation that followed was more like slogging through shoulder-deep mud.

Apparently Pinkie thought so too. At some point she refused to confirm or deny what Will and Ruby were telling us unless we "jazzed it up a little." The meeting eventually turned into a game of "two truths and a lie.”

I jerked out of my half-slumber as Dew pelted the Sups with yet another question. "Explain why exactly we have to make it back up to the Tragician levels by ourselves. What's wrong with just using the Eta's communications system?"

It was Will's turn to answer. "Communications lines between decks aren't secure, any group between us and them could be listening in. Radio is out, the signal doesn't travel more than a couple decks away. And… I don't know… I had waffles for breakfast this morning."

"Come on, Silly Billy, that's an easy one! Everypony knows waffles are only for dinner! Especially with whipped cream and chocolate sauce! And blueberries! Aww, now I'm hungry! Okay, Reuben, your turn!"

“Actually,” Dew said, “I don’t have any more questions. Do you, Rusty?”

“I’m good.” I had been content to let her take the lead in the questioning. From the snippets I had paid attention to, it sounded like she had been doing a bang-up job. And we were at the point in our friendship where I trusted her analysis enough to go along with whatever she decided. It wasn’t because I was zoning out or anything. Nope. Not at all.

“Wonderful. Pinkie, thank you for your assistance. I realize this discussion has been a bit drawn out. Would you two care to rest for a while in one of our guest rooms?” It sounded like Ruby was finally bringing the meeting to a close.

“I could use some shut-eye. Dew?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okie-dokie-lokie! I’ll see everypony around!” The terminal retracted into Will’s desk as Pinkie’s voice cut out. I snuck one last glance back as Ruby led me and Dew out of the office. Will still looked shell-shocked. Get used to it, pal, I thought. You’ll be hearing a lot more from Pinkie once Plan Sigma starts for real.

“Hey, Ruby? I have a question about something Pinkie was saying back there.” Dew apparently did have another question, one that would be better to ask out of our pink friend’s earshot.

“Yes, dear? What is it?”

“Pinkie kept using the phrase ‘everypony’ when we were in there. Is that okay when talking to humans and ponies together?” Okay, maybe it wasn’t something Pinkie would be better off not hearing. But either way, it was a decent question. Better we figure this kind of stuff out now before contracting hoof-in-mouth disease in front of somepony -- somehuman -- important.

“Generally, ‘everyone’ or ‘everybody’ is preferable. Pinkie’s a bit different in that she’ll use ‘everypony’ when her target is majority nonhuman.”

Dew looked a bit confused at that. “But it was an even split in there. Two humans, two ponies. Does she just round up?”

Ruby chuckled before answering. “That’s a polite way of putting it. The truth is, Pinkie sees humans as less important than ponies. I’m sure there’s some crazy math she uses to figure out if ponies in attendance outweigh humans. But for you, if there’s a single human present, better not to say ‘everypony.’”

“Good to know.” I said.

Ruby shrugged. “Who knows if it’ll even be an issue. In any event, we’ve arrived at your destination.” She indicated a colorfully painted door to our right. “There will be a map on the inside that will help you if you need to find anything. Sleep well, and good luck on your mission.”

Dew and I trotted into the guest quarters. Dew practically flew into one of the oversized beds. “Whew! I never thought I’d be so exhausted just from talking! Give me a hard day’s work in the fields any day!”

I unstrapped my barding before clambering into my own bed. “Tell me about it. I’m just glad you were willing to take the lead. If it was just me, I might have ended up shooting someone just to get them to shut up!”

“You’re not sore that I kind of took over in there?”

I lay down over the covers and closed my eyes. “Hon, I’ve got my ego in check now. I’m not going to resent you for taking the lead in something you’re better at. Now get some rest. I’m sure we’ll need it.”

“Okay.” Her magic toggled a switch and extinguished the room lights. “Goodnight, Rusty.”

“‘Night, Dew.”

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt strangely untroubled. Despite the promise of a new day filled with all kinds of dangers and alien weirdness, I could rest secure in the fact that we would face it together. As friends.

Chapter 13: Impetus

I was jolted out of sleep by the most soul-curdling screeching I had ever heard in my life! I sprang into action, diving out of bed and frantically searching for my barding. There was clearly an electronic abomination mere seconds away from devouring us, and I wouldn’t let us go down without a fight!

Three things happened at once. Dew’s magic enveloped a small object sitting on the table between our beds. The abhorrent shriek cut out. And Dew’s disheveled head peeked over the side of her own bed.

“Morning, Rusty. Um… you all right?"

I stared back at her. My left forehoof was stuck inside a noodle cup, my right forehoof extended from my barding's neck hole, and my rear hooves were tangled in the bedsheets I had pulled with me onto the floor in my mad scramble. I must have looked ridiculous.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thought we were being attacked, sounded like the Analysts were after us." I lifted my hooves, trying to step out of my restraints.

"Here, let me help." An orange glow surrounded the sheet as Dew's magic started to untangle it. "Sorry about the rude awakening. Didn't expect the alarm clock to be that loud!"

Alarm clock… "Wait, that's what those things sound like?" I had scavenged my fair share of those things during my career, but had never come across a functional one. "Why would anypony choose to wake up like that?"

Dew chuckled, as her magic shifted from the sheet to my barding. "I've often wondered that myself! It's normally not that bad, humans must really like waking up half-deaf! But the idea of having a machine scream you awake? City ponies have a few screws loose if they think starting the morning like that is a good idea!”

“Which of course begs the question of why you felt we needed an alarm.” With three out of four hooves freed, I now shifted my attention to the unyielding noodle cup.

“I guess you must have missed that part of our talk yesterday. Hang on...” Dew jumped down from the bed and grabbed the bottom end of the cup with her teeth. “Dish'll work better’n magic. Pull on free… won, too, FREE!”

Dew went one way, I went the other, and the cup split the difference, spiraling straight up into the air and ejecting its contents everywhere! “So much for breakfast,” I remarked, as I offered Dew a foreleg and got her back on her hooves.

Dew glanced over the mess we had made before turning her attention back to me. “Not necessarily. Thanks, Rusty,” she added as an aside. “While you were zoned out yesterday," she continued, "Will invited us to join him in the cafeteria this morning. Breakfast was implied.”

Sounded good. “I’ll take that over noodle crumbs any day.”

“I figured as much,” she said, looking me over. “And speaking of which, I doubt your new manestyle will catch on. Let’s get those crumbs off you.”

More than a few minutes later, with both of us freshly washed and my coat finally noodle-free, we entered the cafeteria. I felt a bit overwhelmed looking across the spacious room at all the activity taking place. There had to be over a hundred creatures in there, both human and non, dressed in what looked like work clothes and chatting cheerily amongst themselves. I guess Will was right, the ponies here were acting like fellow workers, not slaves! Still, considering the knowledge Will was keeping from them, the line between worker and slave was a lot narrower than I was comfortable with.

Breakfast was a rush. Will spotted us almost immediately after we left the chow line, and waved us over to the booth where he was seated. I had barely started on my waffles -- delicious, by the way -- when he introduced us to the first of a seemingly endless line of high-ranking Engineers and curious onlookers. Our arrival had apparently caused quite a stir.

Dew was content to handle the formal greetings, which was perfectly fine by me. It let me concentrate on my food and, just as importantly, listen in on background conversations. Will was talking Dew’s ears off about each of our visitors and the role they held within the faction, but I knew from experience that the best way to get a sense of a place was through gossip. I had plenty of practice eavesdropping in local bars to find scavenging leads. Now I had to do the same thing on a spaceship to find out just what was going on with the Engineers.

And there was plenty of gossip to go around. I learned that our friend Paul was universally despised for his rigid adherence to procedure and his refusal to speak Ponish to whoever he deemed inferior. And that Ruby was held in high regard as a sort of matriarch to the entire Engineering section. But most of the talk was concerning an unexpected meeting taking place the following day, attendance mandatory for all Engineers. There was a lot of speculation as to what it was: safety training, family fun day, the annual Hands and Hooves Hoedown five months earlier than scheduled. But none of the ideas came close to what the Sup really had planned. For once, I was ahead of the game, if only because I had heard it discussed before I completely tuned out the previous day. The meeting was a pretense, to prevent leaks and to gather his forces in preparation for Plan Sigma. I noted the irony of gathering a force that had no idea it was a force to begin with. I would have loved to be a bloatsprite on the wall when he dropped that little nugget of information on them.

Eventually, the line of Engineers came to an end and Dew was finally able to focus on her breakfast. I used the lull in conversation as an excuse to grab a few more treats from the counter. Fuck the Cloppers, let me stay here! I’d scrub toilets all day if it meant access to this kind of food! If only I could overlook the borderline slavery...

I returned to the table with as many treats as I could carry, only to find that Ruby had arrived in my absence. “Ah, our other operative returns! May I?” she asked, reaching for the teetering stack balanced on my head.

“Go for it,” I told her as I struggled to keep the weight centered. “I guess I went a bit crazy with the snacks, huh?”

“I honestly don’t blame you, dear. I used to do the same sort of thing before my poor stomach let me know enough was enough. But a single blueberry muffin won’t do too much damage, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Dew said, as she levitated a caramel roll off my back. “Personally, I’m going for something sweeter.”

“If only,” Ruby sighed, inspecting her muffin. “I know some ponies have an obsession over these things, but I’ve never understood it myself. Ah well.” She took a hesitant bite, then looked at it disdainfully. “As always, never enough sugar!”

“I hear you,” I added. “Sugar’s such a rare thing in the wasteland, you can really only get it in those snack cakes that are more preservatives than anything else. I could probably make a fortune just selling these down there!”

“If we’re done obsessing over sweets...” Will interjected, looking annoyed. “Ruby, weren’t you going to show them your project?”

“Oh, of course! I knew I came over here for a reason!” Ruby beckoned to me and Dew, still holding the muffin with her other hand. “Come on, you two. One last gift before you head out.”

She and Dew started trotting towards the exit. I reluctantly deposited my hoard of treats in front of Will before following them. “Here,” I called back over my shoulder as I followed Ruby out. “Knock yourself out.”

Will remained stock-still for a few moments, dwarfed by the mountain of sticky goodness in front of him. Then, tentatively, he reached up and snatched a donut off the top. As I exited the cafeteria, I caught a final glimpse of him working on a second donut. Looks like we weren’t the only ones obsessing over sweets.

“I look ridiculous.”

“Normally, Rusty, I’d tell you to not be so critical. But in this case... Yeah. You look bucking stupid.”

I was standing before a full-length mirror, taking in the absolutely garish outfit Ruby had given me to try on. Calling it an outfit was generous; it was literally just a form-fitting piece of metallic fabric. It looked like I had fallen up to my neck into an oil-slicked pond, then taken the slick with me when I emerged. A faint rainbow sheen covered every inch of me apart from my eyes and muzzle. Dew stood behind me, one hoof shielding her eyes against the blinding reflections radiating from the suit’s mirror finish. I now understood why Ruby had insisted I put it on in a dark room.

“So?” Ruby called from the other side of the room’s divider. “What do you think?”

I stepped away from the vanity lights -- the source of Dew’s distress -- before responding. “I’ve never questioned a free gift before, but seriously. What the fuck is this.”

"It's a protective suit! Do you not like how it looks?" How it looks… Ruby couldn't be that blind. "I knew I should have added streamers…" Okay, now I knew she was making fun of me.

"Ruby, with respect, what in Equestria is it supposed to protect against?" Dew asked, taking a closer look at me now that the reflections had diminished. "It looks like it would be hard-pressed to stop a spitball!”

“True, but your opponents haven’t been shooting spitballs at you, have they?” As Ruby spoke, the divider between us retracted into the wall. She was standing next to a ponnequin that was displaying its own suit of the gaudy material. “In fact, I would wager they’ve been using something akin to this,” she added, pulling out a pistol identical to the ones we had previously seen carried by the Guros. “Standard-issue plasma emitter pistol. The only gun that’s been used on this ship for hundreds of years. That is, until you two found that stash of pre-Breakdown tech.”

“You’re rather well informed,” Dew noted.

“Comes from having a connection to the Analysts, dear. They were perfectly willing to share with you as long as they trusted you. A shame they’re gone, now I’ll have to do my spying the old-fashioned way. But speaking of people being vaporized, I assume you two would like to avoid the same fate?” We both nodded agreement. “Then watch.”

Ruby aimed her pistol at the ponnequin and fired. A bright blue bolt shot out from her pistol with a sharp crack, far less throaty than the sound our own pistols produced. The bolt crashed into the ponnequin at center mass and dissipated, similar to the Guros’ wayward shots we had seen earlier. But this time, the expected scorched residue never appeared at the impact site. Instead, bright rings of colors emerged from where the shot had hit, fading as they raced outwards along the suit’s surface. Ruby fired twice more, producing the same effect. And within a few seconds of each shot, the suit’s colors had stabilized to the point where I would be hard-pressed to identify a difference from its original state!

“Okay,” I admitted, “I don’t feel quite so ridiculous now.”

“And there’s an added bonus,” Ruby told me, smiling wryly. “Since it’s fur-tight, you’re perfectly able to wear whatever clothing you feel necessary over it. I realize jump drive core shielding isn’t the most attractive fashion choice, so you’re welcome to cover it up as you desire.”

“Protection from bullets and blasters? Now you’re talking!” I trotted over to the pile where I had dumped my barding and started untangling it.

“That’s one thing you won’t have to worry about here, dear,” Ruby noted. “Bullets on a spaceship are a recipe for disaster. Similar thing with explosives, you’d never use them unless you didn’t mind taking yourself out as well!”

Combat information. This was something I was fine learning more about! “Okay, explosives in small spaces I can understand, but why are bullets out? Ricochets aren’t that big of a risk, right?”

“It’s not the ricochet you have to worry about, Rusty, it’s the vacuum,” Dew explained. I looked at her blankly. “You do know what a vacuum is, right?” she asked. I shook my head no. “Okay, you know how the air gets thinner the higher up you go?”

“Can’t say I do.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed in me. “Well, it does. And eventually you get so high that there’s no air at all. That’s a vacuum. And if your bullet makes a hole in the spaceship, all the air that’s inside heads outside, and you won’t have anything to breathe. Among other problems. Understand now?”

“Holes are bad. Got it. So we only have to worry about energy weapons. I’m still going to wear my barding, I’ll at least look slightly less stupid.”

A few minutes later, I had arranged my barding over my shield suit, and Dew had done the same with her farm clothes. The suit was still visible around my head, but I felt no pressing need to tuck it into my barding. At this point, I was sure stealth wouldn't be necessary. After all, we were just a couple ponies going on a mission for the Engineers, right?

"And you're sure these passes will let us walk straight up to the Tragicians? We don't need to worry about acting like Engineers?" Dew voiced the concern I had felt ever since the plan of impersonating repairponies had been proposed. What the fuck did I know about toaster repair or whatever it was we were being asked to perform?

"Your supposed 'destination,' dear, is with the Guros. Outermost levels of the ship, and any faction with half a brain knows not to interfere with any work orders concerning them. As long as you remember to stop at the Tragicians’ level, you'll be safe. Or as safe as anypony can be once the war kicks off."

“Yeah, about that… I’m still not completely comfortable fighting in this war. Are you sure I need to be a part of it?” Dew asked nervously.

What? “What?” I interjected, honestly shocked. “Dew, just yesterday I saw you murder a Clopper in cold blood! And that’s not even mentioning the Guros we killed earlier! What changed?”

“Like you yourself said, Rusty, I was pissed off and desperate. I’ve got a clearer mind now, and I don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially someone who doesn’t deserve it!”

This mare… I thought we had gotten past this kind of brahminshit. “Dew, hon, listen. I may not know war, but I know combat. And in combat, you can’t be worried about foalish stuff like who deserves to die! If they’re on the other side, they need to die! End of story!”

“No, Rusty, it’s not ‘end of story!’ The only reason they’ll be on the other side is because of us! We’re the agitators! If we weren’t here, there wouldn’t be a war at all! I’m not okay killing someone just because of a decision I made!”

“Dew…” I paused. “Okay, you’ve got a point. I’ve never been in the habit of looking for an unnecessary fight. That’s not how scavvers operate.” Dew started to interject. “...And no,” I continued, cutting her off, “that one time I wanted to slaughter the entire ship doesn’t count.”

“May I cut in?” Ruby’s voice was a welcome respite from our mini-argument. “You said something about fighting Guros? I’m curious,” she asked, speaking directly to Dew, “why did you feel it was acceptable to fight them? This isn’t a challenge, dear, I simply want to hear your reasoning.”

“If you must know, Ruby, it was because I saw exactly what they were willing to do to ponies under their ‘care.’ Every human I saw there was fighting to keep that disgusting practice going. And even if some weren’t fighting, they knew what was going on and did nothing about it. They’re as complicit as the ones doing the torturing!”

“I thought as much.” Ruby looked oddly introspective. “I won’t try to convince you to do something you’re morally opposed to. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and open eyes while on your journey to the Tragicians. Your perspective may change, or it may not. But I believe your experiences will lead you to make the correct choice when the time comes.”

“We’ll see,” Dew shot back. “Rusty, you ready to head out?”

“You know it!” I was getting sick of all this philosophizing anyway. “Lead the way!”

We were fortunate that there were multiple paths up through the Analysts’ former turf, most of which passed far away from Pinkie’s physical location. We were unfortunate, though, that Pinkie had seemingly gained access to all the systems on those levels. We had to endure a near endless barrage of what she deemed “pranks” as we proceeded, ranging from lights flickering to staircases disappearing. While we were on them.

“Pinkie, this is getting really old,” Dew growled as we recovered from the third set of stairs in as many minutes vanishing beneath our hooves.

“Okay, you’re right… I promise, that’s the last prank I’ll pull on you.”

“You really expect us to believe that?” I snarled.

“Fine. I Pinkie Pie Promise that was the last prank.”

“Still not buying it.”

“What? Sussy, it’s a Pinkie Promise!”

“That means nothing to me. And for fuck’s sake, it’s Rusty! Rus-TY!”

“Means nothing to you? Rushy. It’s. A. Pinkie. Promise.” The floor rumbled, the ceiling shook, the lights dimmed. “NOPONY BREAKS A PINKIE PROMISE!”

“Okay, okay, I believe you!” Better appease the crazy pony in the computer before she gets even more pissed off!

“Aww, thanks, Plushy! And don’t worry, I haven’t gotten access to the upper floors yet, so if you run into any pranks up there, they won’t be from me!” Thank Celestia for small favors.

The staircase rose beneath us again, depositing us at our destination: the door leading to level 43. Another stairway lay through the door, enclosed this time. No sign of hidden platforms that Pinkie could use if she decided to “forget” her promise. We proceeded up the dimly lit stairs, Dew in the lead, as the door closed itself behind us. As soon as the hiss from the hydraulics cut out, Dew stopped in her tracks and spoke up: “Hey Rusty? We need to talk.”

I nearly crashed into her hindquarters before I could react. That certainly would have been awkward. “Sure, Dew, what’s up?” I did my best to sound casual, but her tone of voice indicated the topic would be something serious. I braced myself…

“What’s going to happen if the Engineers win?” She turned to face me as she spoke.

I blinked, surprised. Once again, I found myself blindsided by a question that was nothing like what I would have expected. She must have been taking lessons from Ruby.

“We’re going to be back home, right?” I responded after a moment.

“Us, sure, but what will happen on the ship? I’m worried.”

This must be some sort of hero-type thing. I vaguely remembered reading some old comic books that dealt with the hero being unsure of themselves. I just wished I remembered how they’d handled it…

"Worried about what, hon?” I did my best to sound nonchalant.

“You remember what Ruby said to us about why we wanted a civil war, right? About all the different obsessions being kept secret, so ponies wouldn’t be used as playthings?”

“Sounds about right. You think she was lying about that?” I was confused, hadn’t Pinkie confirmed everything they’d told us?

“No, I think she’s right. And that’s the problem,” she sighed, looking genuinely worried.

“What? How is that a problem? All the Guros, Cloppers and whatever other fucked-up factions there are will be gone!”

“Yes. And the ship will be in the same situation it was when it arrived here.”

My confusion was growing. “The ship’s disabled, Dew! What do you mean it’s in the same situation?”

She looked me straight in the eyes, exasperated. “Not the physical ship, the creatures on board!” Oh. You’d think she’d have a better way to say that than just calling it the ship. She kept going: “The Analysts showed both of us the same thing: before the mutiny, the ship was unified. But those same obsessions were there, just waiting for something to bring them to light! And now, if the Engineers win, the ship will be in the same situation! All it’ll take is a couple fanatics to stir the pot, and this place will be right back to where it is now! Maybe worse!”

“You’ve got a point, I guess, but what else can we do? Take this place over ourselves?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rusty, neither of us are leaders!” Well, I sure wasn’t. Dew, though…

“Then what do you want to do? Just let the Guros keep their captives? I thought saving ponies was the whole point of being a hero!”

“I don’t know what I want to do! All I know is I don’t want to make things any worse!”

We both sat in silence for a bit. She had raised some solid points, and was clearly waiting for me to respond. I, on the other hoof, was stumped. I knew -- we both knew -- that we had to rescue the creatures the humans were keeping captive. But how could I justify an action to her that would just bring the ship back to where this whole mess started?

“I think,” I said after minutes of contemplation, “we can’t expect to control what happens after we leave. I only see two options. One: we stay on the Eta, keep the peace, and make sure divisions don’t spread. Now, I’m not looking forward to spending the rest of my life as an enforcer, and I doubt you are either.”

“Yeah…” she replied. “I’d like to get back home after all this is over…”

“Which brings us to option two,” I continued. “We just need to trust that the humans have learned from their mistakes and won’t jeopardize the ship again.” She scoffed at that. “I know, but hear me out. During breakfast this morning, what did you think of the Engineers around us?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she acknowledged. “I was too busy dealing with all the introductions.”

“I figured as much. Dew, I did see what the atmosphere was like in that room, and honestly? It gives me hope. There was genuine friendship there. That’s something that’s been lacking on this ship -- in all Equestria, for that matter -- for a long time. And if any group can keep the crew from splintering, it’s the one I saw today. Leading by example. We just have to believe that the Engineers can show that harmony is the way forward.”

“Wow.” Dew was looking at me skeptically. “When did you become so idealistic?”

“I think it was when you put me on the spot. Jackass.”

She chuckled. “Fair enough. Do you really think the Engineers can hold it together?”

“Let me put it this way, Dew. They’re better suited than any other faction I’ve seen. And you know what? Even if the ship does end up the same way it is now, at least we’ll have given everypony their own taste of freedom, for however long it lasts. That’s all we can really do: show ponies the way, and hope they follow suit.”

And just like that, Dew was smiling again. “You’re so right, Rusty.” She stepped down a couple stairs and gave me a quick hug. “Thanks,” she said as she broke it off. “No matter what anypony else tells you, always remember: you’re a good pony.” She turned and continued her trek up the stairs.

A good pony... Never thought I’d hear anypony call me that. But with her declaration, I knew two things were true. Dew honestly believed what she told me, and I would do my damndest to live up to her belief.

Chapter 14: What Makes a Hero?

“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…

Chapter 15: Unnatural Influence

...wait. Where are we? How did we end up in a sewer? “Dew, what’s going on?” It was odd, I thought; my voice sounded like it was far away, echoing down the grimy pipe that stretched into darkness on either side. I had definitely wanted to say those words, but why were they coming from somewhere else?

“Rusty?!” Dew’s voice was hushed, but still carried an unexpected amount of excitement. “Thank the skies! Are you really back?”

“Back from what?” I whispered back to her. “And why are we being so quiet? Are we hiding from somepony?”

“There’s still a few guards out there,” was her reply. Guards… that would explain why she had her back pressed against the pipe wall and was peering between the narrow bars of a grate. “We can probably take them now, but there’s no way I was going to risk it with you all loopy like that!”

“Loopy?” I exclaimed, way too loudly. Dew shot me a glare but said nothing. No doubt for the best; if we were in hiding, she wouldn’t want to alert our pursuers further by shushing me. Which of course begged the question of why there were pursuers in the first place…

“All right, Dew,” I said, returning to a whisper, “what’s going on? Why are we hiding?” My voice was finally coming from the right place; I guess whatever spell I was under was wearing off.

“You tell me!” she shot back. “We were holding our own against those griffon gunners, when all of a sudden you stopped firing! I had to dust the rest of them myself, while you just stood there like a halfwit! Did that weird ring they shot at you wreck your memory too?”

Weird ring… “You mean they hit me with a Mesmetron?!”

“What the buck is a Mesmetron?”

Wait. What is a Mesmetron? “I don’t know!” I was doing my best to keep my voice down, but panic was rapidly rising within me. “Why the fuck would I remember the name of something but not what it does?”

“Don’t ask me! The Avatars would know, they’re supposed to be the brain experts! Except they’re the ones trying to kill us!”

Kill us? Why would they…

I knew why…

We were standing in a circular room, glass extending upwards from shoulder height, circling the entirety of the perimeter. The entirety, except for the door leading back to the Robronies and the one leading forward to the Avatars. A human sat next to the entrance we were hoping to pass through, looking down at a console and verifying the passes we had received from the Engineers.

"Going up to the Guros, right?" she asked through a speaker.

"That's right," Dew confirmed.

"Names?"

"Dewdrop."

"Rusty Rivet."

"Got it,” she said with a nod. “You're cleared to enter. You ever pass through Avatar territory before?"

"Never."

"Really? That's odd, your voice sounds real familiar." She finally lifted her gaze from the console and looked through the glass at us. "You sure you've never… been… YOU!"

Was she staring at me? What the fuck was she talking about? I took a glance behind me, but I was the only pony in her line of sight. I looked back to her, only now noticing her enraged glare.

“Me?” was all I could think to say. I was suddenly fearful; she sounded pissed as Tartarus! I was positive I had never seen her before, but she seemed convinced I had done something to her, and it looked like she was in a position to enact revenge!

“I knew I had heard that voice before.” She slammed her fist on the console. Dew and I both jumped as solid metal panels crashed down over the room’s only exits! "Don’t even think of trying to deny it. I'm not going to forget the face of the pony that fucking murdered me!"

I'll admit, I had never expected to hear someone refer to being murdered in the past tense. “I… murdered you?” This was a whole new level of human insanity.

She gave a sinister chuckle. “Maybe you didn’t murder me in the conventional sense, but it was murder all the same. Don’t tell me you forgot your dear old neighbor already! Whispering Meadow?”

Neighbor? Whispering Meadow? ...Oh, fuck.

“Hold on!” Dew exclaimed. “You’re talking about the unicorn in the Guros’ holding cells?” Okay, I was impressed. I barely remembered his name! “That was an accident, Rusty tripped the security system while he was trying to get Meadow out!”

“BULLSHIT!” the human’s voice roared through the speaker. “I designed that fucking hoof terminal you stole, I know what you have to do to access security from those terminals, and I know you intentionally turned it back on to kill me! The only ‘accident’ up there was trusting you!”

“How would you know any of this?” I yelled back. “We didn’t leave any humans alive in those cells, and you sure as shit don’t look like a pony! And how could you have been killed up there and still be talking to me?”

“YOU KILLED MY PONYSONA!” she practically screamed, shaking with rage. “Whispering Meadow was my perfect match! I personally picked him, followed his life in the wasteland, brought him here and inhabited him when my turn in the queue came up! And you snuffed his life out like it was nothing! Worse, because of the mental scrambling that happens when the host dies, my brain is ruined! I can never inhabit a pony again! Do you know what it feels like for a ponykin to be trapped forever in this disgusting human body? Do you?”

“You inhabited him? You mean you took over his body? Did he just have to watch as some fucking alien piloted his body around?” Fuck… the idea of not even having a choice to obey orders… Slavery was one thing, but slaves at least kept their own minds! I was hard pressed to decide what was worse: the Guros’ sadistic tortures or the mental rape these fuckers were pulling. “Sounds to me like I did Meadow a favor!”

Dew was staring at me, shocked. I guess I did just admit murdering somepony. Dammit. I tried to explain to her. “Dew, I…”

“You think I wanted to keep him trapped in there?” the human screamed. “I would’ve let him live in a human body, but thanks to some stupid mud pony that escaped seventy years ago, they don’t allow that any more! I had no choice! You fucking dirt diggers ruin everything!” She turned around and punched a massive red button on the wall behind her. Sirens began to wail, the same as the alarms on the Guro floors. She fixed me with a gloating grin: “I’ll be happy to see you punished for the sins of your entire repugnant race!”

A squad of armored ponies galloped into view and took positions around the entrance we had just missed out on passing through peacefully. Their pistols were pointed at the door, waiting for it to open.

“Guess we get to see how well our shield suits work,” I muttered to Dew. She and I crouched beside each other and readied our weapons...

Wow. Whispering Meadow was actually a bigoted human.

I hadn’t thought too much about that asshole ever since I dusted him. Maybe I should have. No, I definitely should have. I was a reformed savage! Even though the murder occurred before Dew changed my convictions, I had no excuse for keeping it a secret. She had been under the impression the murder was an accident up until we ran into that Avatar. The very least I could do was apologize for misleading her. I’d have to show her that I really had changed, that murder was absolutely the furthest thing from my mind.

“Dew?”

“Yes, Rusty?”

“I’m sorry about Whispering Meadow. I should have told you that I murdered him. It was wrong of me to let you keep believing it was an accident. We wouldn’t have been as blindsided when that Avatar revealed herself. Even if you hated me for it, I never should have kept it a secret. I’m sorry.” I hung my head as I spoke.

Dew was still pressed up against the wall, but was now looking at me with a curious expression. “I appreciate the honesty, Rusty, but we already went through this. I guess you don't remember that either, huh?”

Remember? When did we…

We were crouched in a narrow slit recessed into the floor. Colorful rays of magic shot overhead and impacted the wall just behind us; we loosed our own beams back at the Avatar unicorns that had chased us into this chamber. Above us, a pair of pegasi circled and poured plasma fire down towards our position. My flank still ached from where a unicorn’s offensive spell had scorched my barding. As good as our shield suits fared against blasters, natural magic could still make it through. Which is why we were focusing on the unicorns.

I poked my head above the lip of our shelter and fired twice, noting with some satisfaction that I had taken out the one unicorn able to project a shield. Her companions reacted quickly, diving into cover behind the nearest support columns. Harder targets for us to hit now, but at least it meant less fire coming our way.

Dew raised her head as well, firing into the columns to keep our opponents pinned down. “Were you ever going to tell me about what you did to Meadow?” she yelled over the din.

“This is hardly the time to discuss that, Dew!” I yelled back. A side door opened and a squad of pistol-armed earth ponies, led by a pair of unicorns, opened fire on our position.

“This is the perfect time to discuss it!” she shouted as we ducked away from the new threat. “I’m not going to keep fighting with you if I can’t trust you! What if you decide I’m too annoying to live? Huh?!” She levitated her pistol higher and blindly fired a volley of shots towards the newest batch of enemies. A cut-off scream indicated she had at least hit one of her targets.

“Dew, that was back when I was still acting like a savage! I’m a reformed pony now!”

“Reformed my ass! Why the buck didn’t you tell me sooner? You would’ve kept that secret forever if that human hadn’t recognized you!”

One of the pegasi flew too low on his strafing run, right into my sights. A single shot from my pistol turned his body to ash. “Honestly, Dew? I completely forgot Meadow existed after we left that level. And I would’ve been justified keeping it from you, seeing how pissed off you’re getting now! In the middle of a firefight!” The unicorns’ magic blazing over us was becoming more accurate; they must be using the opportunity to advance! “Keep your head in the game!” I yelled, and launched a barrage of beams back at them. Another unicorn crumbled to dust, but I was right: they were halfway to us!

“You forgot about murdering somepony?!” I had to duck back down again, the flanking unicorns’ beams were getting way too close! Dew shoved me, hard. “You think I’m willing to trust you if murder’s that ordinary to you?”

“It’s the fucking wasteland, Dew! Killing is ordinary down there!”

“And that makes me trust you how?” We took advantage of a break in the fire to rise up and shoot back at our attackers. There was another batch of earth ponies that had joined the fight as we were hunkered down, and the unicorn assault teams had continued their progress, now in cover just a stone’s throw away!

“Dew, I haven’t shot a single fucking pony that wasn’t shooting at us first! We went right past two batches of unarmed ponies on our way here, and I didn’t kill any of them!” I glanced past her and saw a unicorn’s horn poke out of cover and point right at us. “Dew, get down!” I yelled, and tackled her into our trench just before a brilliant blue beam shot straight through where her head had been! Half a second later and she’d be dead!

“Listen,” I said, staring down at her and the food that had spilled from her saddlebags as she hit the ground. “Besides my words and actions, I can’t give you anything else. You have to decide pretty damn quick whether you can trust me, or we’ll be the next ponies with humans in our brains.” I could make out the approaching voices now; we were running out of time!

“...Okay, Rusty. You’re right. I believe you.” Her expression shifted to concerned. “Now, got any ideas to get us out of this mess?”

I glanced around at our surroundings. Not much we could use here, except… “Actually, yeah. Get ready to run for the exit. On my signal...” I took one of her spilled noodle cups in my hoof. No way to actually aim this thing, but with luck it shouldn’t matter. I tossed the cup out of the trench and yelled: “GRENADE OUT!”

I heard multiple shouts of alarm from our pursuers, and the incoming fire abruptly ceased. “Dew, now!” I yelled. We both sprang from our shelter and passed through the open gate we had aimed for before being forced into our cover. I closed and sealed the hatch just as the incoming shots began pouring through again. Safe again! For now...

“Holy shit. How did I think of using a noodle cup as a fake grenade?”

Dew smiled back at me in the dim light. “I don’t know, but it worked like a charm. I’m just glad the Avatars know what a grenade is!” She looked at me more seriously. “Does this mean your memory is back?”

“Some of it. There are still plenty of gaps after we got to the Avatar levels. Like this,” I said, indicating our surroundings with a sweep of my hoof. “Where are we?”

She grimaced before answering. “Remember learning about Project Kinder?” I nodded in response and she continued, “I think we found it…”

I cautiously angled my neck to peer past Dew through the grating she was guarding. Earlier, I had noticed a pale blue glow lighting the walls of the tunnel we were in, but now I knew its source. Stasis pods. Dozens of them. But instead of humans floating before me, each tube held a pony! And not just any kind of pony. They ranged from the size of newborns to that of late adolescence, but I couldn’t see a single adult from my vantage point! Dew was right, we were surrounded by foals!

“Shit,” I whispered under my breath.

“It gets worse,” Dew muttered as I drew my head back from the opening. “I think they’re still conscious.”

My eyes sprung open wide at that revelation. “Are you sure?” I pressed her.

“I had plenty of time to check on them while you were still spaced out. They’re definitely moving, and I thought I saw a couple react to the light every time the entrance door opened.” She sounded troubled. Understandably; I was having a hard enough time wrapping my head around the idea of spending my entire youth underwater, trapped in a glass tube. Then Dew dropped the bombshell: “And Rusty? The older ones out there? They all have the same cutie mark.”

The same cutie mark? How is that possible?

“It’s a stasis tube.”

“Those fuckers…” I hissed. “They’re stealing their foalhood, they’re taking over their minds, and now I find out they’re perverting their very identity?! That does it. I’m slaughtering this entire faction.” I heard Dew softly clear her throat. “...With your assistance of course.”

“Rusty, I think this is one faction we can’t take on by ourselves. Even if our shield suits gave us perfect protection against unicorns, there’s still that mesmer-thingy you got hit with! I don’t want to think of what a second blast like that could do to your mind, and if both of us get hit? We’re done for!”

Fuck. As much as I hated to admit it, she was probably right. Possibly regarding multiple exposures, though the long-term effects were far at the back of my mind at the moment. But given the rumored effects of the Mesmetron, we’d be helpless if neither of us were able to protect the other during the recovery time. Speaking of which…

“Hey Dew? Changing the subject slightly, but how exactly did you get me away from the Avatars? I thought Mesmetrons were supposed to make me obey every command I was given!”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, “It did. That griffon crew yelled at you to step out of cover, and that’s exactly what you did. Of course, I had no idea what you were doing. All I knew was that you were standing out in the open and they were pouring so much fire into you that your suit was glowing!”

“Glowing?” She nodded in confirmation. “Wow. I wonder how much abuse it could actually take?” If I could keep it intact until I got to Tenpony, that’d be another mountain of caps for my saddlebags!

Dew fixed me with a skeptical look. “Let’s keep those kinds of experiments to a minimum, hmm?” Right. Survive first, then profit. “Anyway,” she continued, “I yelled something like ‘What are you doing? Get back here!’ And as soon as I told you to get back, that’s exactly what you did!”

“So, what, all of you were giving orders and I was galloping in circles trying to keep up?” As dangerous a situation as it must have been for me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image.

“Actually, there was a lot less circling than you would think. It turns out you prioritized my commands over theirs! You would just ignore them if their order contradicted one of mine! I eventually just told you to stay where you were and not move unless I told you otherwise. And once that battle finished, I had you follow me and stay quiet. I was lucky to find this place; your hoof terminal would have really been useful!”

“Interesting… it sounds like a mesmerized pony prioritizes orders from friends over strangers!” Seemed like a pretty serious drawback, but considering how rare friendships were in the wasteland, it probably never came up. Would explain why the rumors I'd heard had never mentioned that feature. “Although… I know I probably wouldn’t have been that good a combatant, but wouldn’t it have made more sense to order me to fight the griffons?”

Dew blinked at me, stunned, then simultaneously groaned and facehooved. “Yeah, that would’ve made things easier, wouldn’t it?”

I gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “No harm done. Now, what’s our next step? Make a break for the next faction?”

“I wish,” Dew sighed. “They’ve got some way of tracing us even if they can’t see us. This is the only place they haven’t been able to track us. Our best bet is using the freight system again. Don’t bother,” she added as I began looking up and down our tunnel. “It’s blocked both ways.” Of course. That would have been too easy.

“I think we’ll need to check a map. There’s a terminal just outside this grate,” she told me, angling her head towards a barely visible green glow. “If you sneak out there and plug in your hoof device, I think the cord will reach back in here. Then you can hack without being seen.”

“And once I have the map we can find the best way up! Smart thinking!”

Our little alcove was well hidden from the patrolling guards, but I made sure to time my dash over to the terminal when there was absolutely no chance of being spotted. A quick pull of the cord in my teeth, a simple insertion into the correct interface, a leap back into cover, and I was staring at the password protocol screen, ready to hack into the Avatars’ systems.

Just like before…

We had dispatched the guards at the entrance to the Avatar levels with a surprising amount of ease. Whatever armor they had been using, it was no match for our overpowered pistols. Combined with our shield suits, we were practically unstoppable!

I was standing over the scattered ashes of one of our attackers, hoof terminal raised, waiting for the password screen to appear. This terminal was hopefully the one that would open the locked gate to the rest of Avatar territory. Dew held her own pistol in her magic, pointed at the human who had activated the alarm in the first place, who was now backed into a corner. The one who’d been controlling Whispering Meadow, and the one who was still ranting at us despite the change in fortunes she’d suffered. She was either impossibly brave or insanely angry, and given her earlier talk of “ponykin” and “mud ponies,” I was leaning towards the latter.

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you! I should have told the Guros to incinerate you the second I found out you were a fucking dirt dweller! Or better yet, nail you to a table and crack your hooves open! They would have treated you like the worthless creature you are, and all I had to do was ask!”

“Yeah, about that...” I shot back. The password interface had finally shown up, and I divided my attention between it and her. “I remember them telling you to shut up when they brought Dew in. You really think they would have taken orders from you? It was the other way around, dumbass!”

“They knew who I fucking was! Are you so brain-damaged that you think I’d go up there without alerting them?! And they weren’t giving me orders! They just told me your friend was a special project and I shouldn’t interfere with her! They would have taken you out of there in a heartbeat!”

“Hold on,” Dew interjected, sounding puzzled. “What were you doing up there?”

“I was interacting with real ponies! There are so few true otherkin on these levels, it was torture not knowing which ponies were true ponykin and which had human souls! Up there, humans are humans and ponies are ponies! Everypony I talked to through those cell walls had a pony soul, just like mine!”

What? “You were literally a human in a pony body!” I yelled at her.

“I wouldn’t expect a mudbrain like you to understand,” she shot back. “I’m just glad your unicorn companion is tolerant enough to accept us!”

“I can accept you up to the point of taking over a pony’s body,” Dew declared. Once you interfere with somepony’s bodily autonomy, you’ve lost my support!”

“I HAD NO CHOICE!” she screamed at Dew. “How are you not understanding this?! You’re acting like an earth pony!”

“The casual racism isn’t helping your case, Meadow,” Dew shot back.

“Don’t you start questioning my unikin soul! Unless you’re a bigot, too!”

There! Finally, I was into the terminal. The gate controls were right at the top. I was pleased to see the gate I had been targeting began to slide open at the terminal’s command. “All right, Dew, time to move on,” I called to her. She nodded to me and backed towards the open gate, keeping her pistol trained on its target. “The only bigot here is you,” she growled to the human, who was smart enough to stay in place.

We passed into the adjoining room, fortunately clear of any other guards, and I called back to our “ponykin” opponent. “I hope your soul finds peace! ...Fucking weirdo.” I said that last bit mostly to myself. The gate slid closed again and we galloped towards the nearest exit, hoping to make as much progress as we could before we ran into any more resistance…

I shook my head in frustration. Humans that think they’re actually ponies? It seemed like they were in constant competition with each other to see who could make the least amount of sense. What was next? Humans who thought they knew what we were thinking better than we did?

I turned my attention back to my hoof terminal, ready to begin my hack. But the screen was showing something unexpected. Instead of the normal mix of potential passwords and random symbols, there were just three lines of text.

External device recognized.

Additional function unlocked.

Press any key to continue.

External device recognized? I guess that made a little bit of sense; the hoof device was originally from these levels, after all. But why would that message show up now and not during my earlier hack? Oh well, nothing to do but press a key and see what happens.

The screen filled with words, but not the sort of words I was expecting. Instead of a menu, it looked like a wall of text. I read the first couple of lines, then stopped with a weary sigh. “Dew?” I called, making sure to keep my voice low. “We got another note from Pinkie.”

“What?” she responded. “What’s it say?”

Softly, I began to read:

Dear Rusty Rivet and Dewdrop,

It’s good to speak to you again, even if our first meeting will be decades into the future, at least from my perspective. My name is Pinkie Pie thirty-six. I’m sure you’re thinking, “Thirty-six? We haven’t met that one yet!” Of course, that’s assuming you’ve been keeping track of all the versions of me up here. It’s got to be a headache; I can barely keep track myself!

The truth is, you have met me; you just didn’t realize it at the time. You would have known me as Ruby, former Superintendent of the Engineering faction.

“What the fuck?” both of us blurted out simultaneously. Dew and I exchanged bewildered glances. We had no words. How could an ancient human actually be a Pinkie Pie?

I was the first, and -- as far as I can tell -- only, pony to escape a stasis tube after having my mind swapped with a human’s. I do regret taking a six-year-old’s body, but it was the only one I was ever able to control after the exchange of minds occurred. All the adults’ were effectively paralyzed. Little Ruby’s still had a bit of movement. The Avatars are currently searching for me, but their IFF is effectively useless. It’s calibrated to detect pony hostility, not human!

“IFF?” I asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s a feature on Enclave power armor,” Dew answered. “It stands for Identify Friend or Foe. Determines whether somepony is hostile or not.”

Wow. Wouldn’t that be useful. “Hold on,” I realized, “doesn’t that mean the Avatars would be able to track us?”

“...Yeah…” Dew looked contemplative. “I wonder why we’re not showing up? Are all the ponies around us here hostile too?”

I sighed. “Knowing Pinkie, it’s probably got something to do with her.”

I’m writing this message using the small amount of Pinkie Sense I have left to me. Something about transferring to a human body prevents me from using it to its full potential. I am able to identify the hoof terminal you’re using, and I know how to corrupt the Avatars’ IFF so it won’t recognize you two. You’ll be safely hidden here, among the mindless bodies of Project Kinder.

I know you’ll be using this terminal, but what you look, sound, act like? It’s all blank. It’s a frightening situation for me: a new body hiding from a hostile group of aliens, knowing that if I’m recaptured I will never again be able to call my mind my own. But despite all this, I know I need to do all I can to help you on your journey, for the sake of everypony destined to be on this ship.

“Again with this vague brahminshit!” I exclaimed, softer than I would have liked. “Is it too much to ask for somepony to tell us what the fuck we’re expected to do?! What’s the point of seeing the future if you can’t be clear about it?!”

“Give it some time,” Dew told me, laying her hoof comfortingly on my shoulder. “There’s more written there, isn’t there?”

“Yeah… let’s see if this Pinkie can actually give us a straight answer.”

And I need to start off with a warning. Not everyone you think is an ally will remain so. You two can trust each other, but beyond that? I see shifting alliances, fair-weather friends, and unexpected betrayals. Where those come from, I can’t say. All I can tell you is, be cautious. Danger can come from any direction, even my other selves. We may be working at cross-purposes, or we may not. Their actions are as mysterious to me as they are to you.

“So much for a straight answer,” Dew deadpanned.

I hope that my future self will be able to give you further clarification. My own future is much clearer than yours, but I know that’s of small comfort to you.

I leave you one gift before I make my final escape from the Avatars. A secret elevator, left over from the construction of the Eta, forgotten for a thousand years. The sole elevator still functioning on this ship. It extends from this level to the next faction above you, the Shippers.

“They’re supposed to be one of the friendly factions, right?” I asked Dew. She nodded patiently. “Thank Celestia for small favors…”

I wish you the best of luck. The future of the Eta rests in your capable hooves.

Pinkie Pie 36 (Ruby)

Message Ends.

Press Return to Access Your terminal functions.

I didn’t read that last part out loud, there was no point in sharing terminal prompts that obviously weren’t part of the original message. I hit return.

Immediately, the wall behind us began emitting a loud metallic shriek! I heard shouts of alarm coming from outside the pipe! Quick as I could, I jumped out of the pipe and disconnected the hoof device. As I hurled myself back in and closed the gate, I could see one of our pursuers rushing into our row of stasis pods! “Shit! We’re spotted!” I yelled to Dew.

“The elevator’s open, get in!” she shouted back.

I dived between the opened doors and copied Dew’s position: back pressed against the wall facing our enemies, pistol out and ready to fire. The doors began closing, far too slowly for my liking! White hot plasma bolts started flooding through; good, that meant no unicorns that actually had a chance of harming us!

“I think we’re safe, Rusty!” Dew shouted above the crackle of incoming fire. “That grate only opens from the inside; they can’t get in if they’re not a unicorn!”

It wasn’t until the doors completely closed, though, that I felt safe moving out of cover. Dew did the same. “Okay, now what?” she asked.

“Button’s on your side, hon.” I told her.

She looked confused for a second. “You mean this?” she asked, indicating what was obviously the button I was referring to.

“...Yes?”

“Oh.” She pushed the solitary button. It was one of those elevators, so common in the wasteland, that only stopped on two floors. Such a stupid design, I had always thought, and the humans had seen fit to duplicate it up here!

The elevator lurched to life and Dew jumped in surprise. “Sorry,” she responded to my questioning look. “First time in an elevator. Pegasi don’t have much use for the things.”

I nodded in response and we both stood quietly, as the weapons fire and angry shouts slowly faded into the distance below us. Such an odd concept, I thought. A few days ago any mention of pegasi would have drawn my ire like nothing else. I glanced over at Dew. There she was, the source of my newfound outlook. A young mare teaching kindness to the grizzled scavenger. What a world.

Chapter 16: The Breaking Point

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Prologue

Subject S-1503a

Race: Earth Pony

Coat Color: Brown

Mane Color: Silver

Eye Color: Green

Magic Color: N/A

Cutie Mark: Computer

Classification: Scavenger, Equestrian Wasteland

Intake Recording Follows:

Ow, fuck!

In here? You want me to talk into this thing? Fine, just keep that shit away from me!

Um, ok. My name is Rusty Rivet, and up until these ugly bastards captured me, I was a scavenger. I thought I had made a killer find. I would have been set for life if I could haul even part of that wreck back to town. Instead I find out it was a trap set up by these hairless hellhounds. Seriously, what the fuck kind of creature only has two legs? So now I’m stuck here, held captive in what I assume is some freaky-ass airship. These fuckers have to be working with the pegasi. Fuck you, and tell the birdies fuck them when they show up.

Point that stick somewhere else! What, my cutie mark? It’s a fucking terminal, what does it look like? Got it from hacking my way out of the stockade at Appleloosa. Stupid assholes didn’t even realize there was power running right behind that wall! Sure cost them, at least fifteen of us made it out!

You happy? Got enough for whatever twisted game you’re playing? I swear to Celestia, once I get my hooves on one of those shockers I’m going to murder every single one of you!