“That is not dead which can eternal lie...”

“Dangit Twi, what have ah said about yer spooky books?”

“Only on Nightmare Night?”

After lunch we wandered elsewhere within New Appleoosa seeking some lodgings as, while the Tavern did have some rooms, our erstwhile companion was, as stated previously, banned from entering. We ended up securing bunks at the aptly named ‘Coal Bunker’ bunk house, an establishment generally catering to trader groups coming through with a number of bunks per room and some kind of animal pen around the back, all presently empty. Neon Dream and I were bunking in the same room, Roulette had decided to capitalise on the empty nature of the building and get herself a second room.

Neon looked halfway to wondering why we weren’t all just sharing the one room before I shook my head at him, I could see the orange maned madmare threatening to kick me out and bunk down with the shy stallion simply for the opportunity to make him blush and stammer. I’m sure I caught a flash of disappointment in her eye before we were swept off to view another corner of the settlement.

After establishing that, somehow, everyone knew Roulette, and that it was not always fondly, we returned to Yon’s Kitchen. The owner and chef was actually called Gaze Yonder, but was generally just referred to as Yon. What this meant to me was that I had had more food this day than I think I’d ever had, and was slightly worried about how my body was going to deal with that.

Retiring to our bunk room I looked through the copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide we had received from Ditzy Doo, reading up on what had happened to Canterlot and the surrounding area. It mentioned the pink cloud, how it had seeped into the buildings over the years and was seeping back out again. It also mentioned how the cloud fused things and had created a unique breed of ghouls in and around the fallen capitol. While the effects of the cloud seemed to stretch out to the suburbs of the city, I was hoping that Station 2 was far enough out that it had been spared the brunt of the poison.

With the light fading out I put the book away, tucked Resolve under the corner of my pillow and tried to get some sleep.

We had routed the Zebras from the breach after a night of shelling, with the assembled divisions being divided up to pursue our retreating foe and push further into zebra lands. Pegasus flyer squads had harried the retreating forces as we got organised but they broke off when the Zebras vanished into the jungles and swamps that characterised this corner of Zebrica.

My detachment of Royal Canterlot Engineers had arrived during the night. We had been intending to fortify the ruined town that served as the breach point but local command had other ideas. The detachment was split up and each group of engineers assigned to a platoon that was being sent after the Zebras. Forklift, Arc Weld, Bellemouth, Sand Castle and myself were partnered with a group called Roma’s Racers a squad of earth ponies who ranged from rough and tumble to disdainful, with a lot of grumpy faces in between. I don’t think they were happy about having a party of unicorns attached to their squad and they were definitely not happy at having to run down the fleeing Zebras.

“Alright team fresh and fancy free” Roma, the yellowy-cream coated mare in charge of this platoon said, “I’m dividing you up, spread some of this ‘engineering support’ up between squads.”

“oh come on L.T.” came a voice of complaint, “we saw off those damn stripes without no fancy horn head tricks.”

Roma glared at the offending pony, “that was yesterday private, this is today.” She stomped over to the complaining mare, who began to cower under her gaze, “as command has seen fit to send us some magical aid, we for damn sure are not going to waste it.”

She spun around to face us engineers, “right, you two go with Sgt Pear, you with me and you two get Mudbriar.”

I was one of the two given to Mudbriar, along with Forklift, and so trotted over to the grey and brown stallion.

“but L.T...”

“Private Blues, if you do not shut up and accept my orders I will have you assigned to latrine duty at the most active, disease ridden hotspot for the rest of this Celestia damned war!” Roma had her muzzle pressed flat against the soldier’s, staring her in the eyes, “That is my final offer. Do you understand? Private?”

“y-y-yes ma’am.”

Roma turned on her hooves and marched away, tossing up one forelock to indicate to the rest of the platoon to follow her. We began to move out, heading southwest as other units fanned out from the breach. In the wan and hazy morning light, a melody seemed to hang in the air as the marching units broke into an old battle song.

‘Some folk are born, made to fly the banner,

Oh they’re red and gold, ye,

And when the band plays ‘The Land I Love’,

Oh they point their hooves at ye princess,

'tisn't me, tisn't me,

I ain’t no Noblemare's kin, nay,

Tisn't me, tisn't me,

fortunate I ain’t ever been, nay'

As the groups moved apart and followed their directions the singing drifted away on the wind leaving us marching to just the hum of the melody.

It was a novel sensation to just wake up, no dreams ending in fire, no being shaken for watch duty, just eyes opening with even breathing. The bunk was definitely more comfortable than the ground, but I got the feeling that my body would reject anything softer. No high-class hotels for me.

Oh Luna no, are there no pleasures left in life?

You don’t get a say in it.

I checked the pipbuck on my leg, only to find that while I hadn’t been woken for watch, it was still pretty early. Not wanting to just lie here, nor wake up the pegasus in the bunk above me, I left the room quietly, my stealth training paying dividends in not disturbing anyone else in the building as I slipped outside. It turned out that I was not the only early riser, Roulette was sitting on the decking out front of the Coal Bunker with a mug of coffee beside her, staring up at the sky.

She looked different, and it took me a moment to realise she wasn’t wearing her coat of many pockets. She looked odd without it and in the sparse light from some of the buildings around she looked somehow smaller and less exuberant. Looking at her flank I could see the cutie mark kept hidden beneath her usual gear, it was the same as the logo she painted on the back of the coat, a revolver cylinder with a single round.

Huh, I thought that was just a logo.

I grunted in agreement, drawing Roulette’s gaze as she turned to face the sound.

“Hey Operative, couldn’t sleep?” she patted the boards next to her with a hoof “take a sit.”

I trotted over and sat myself down next to the cream coated mare. Looking up I sighed, the sky was still clouded over, no sign of Luna’s moon or stars.

“Must hurt, huh?” I looked down at Roulette who had also resumed gazing skywards. Her eyes rolled sideways to look at me, “to be a Selenite and never see her.”

“Is she gone?” I asked quietly

“Probably. They say the Princesses were in Canterlot at the end. That they held back the Pink Cloud to save everyone else.”

The Littlehorn Agent, the substance employed to destroy Luna’s school, and its students.

“So,” I said, packing away the sadness I was feeling in two different ways, “your logo is your cutie mark. Did you sell someone a bullet and that was that?”

Roulette chuckled, though I could hear an edge to her voice. “Nothing like that. I was always interested in chemistry and firearms and ammunition, and it ends up meshing well with the trading, but...” She took a breath and looked back up at the dark sky, “when I was young a group came into the casino,” she looked sideways at me, “my family runs a casino out in the San Palomino. There’s a few out there but its not quite as saturated with them as, say, Caledonia. Anyways, this group comes in, mercs or raiders or something, and starts raising hell.”

I could just imagine a group like Gnat Bite’s kicking in the door and demanding everything. It seemed ‘might makes right’ was definitely the law of the wasteland.

“Daddy tried to get them to leave but their leader just knocked him to the floor.” My attention returned to Roulette as she continued, “His group held up the place with their weapons, and our guards couldn’t respond without it turning into an absolute bloodbath. I was on the floor that evening, delivering drinks and the boss must have seen the resemblance. He asked me if I wanted to play a game, and like the little idiot I was I agreed.”

That rueful smile was still on her face, “what was the game?” I asked,

“Roulette,” she chuckled, “Stalliongrad Roulette.”

Thats a cruel irony,

I rolled my eyes; I didn’t think I needed to dignify that thought with a response. Roulette however, seemed to think I was responding to the story.

“I know, right?” she shook her head, “so I’m dragged over to a table and a revolver is put on the table between us. I suppose if we’d both been unicorns it would have felt a bit different, but both of us had to mouth wield the gun and fire at the other. I remember him leaning over the table, pressing the barrel to my head and staring me directly in the eyes as he tongued the trigger.”

I think both of us shuddered in the cool air.

“Clearly you won.” I said,

“Yeah... Though, not in the way you might think. It was a five-round revolver, and I went first.”

I glance back at her flank, the cylinder on her cutie mark was indeed a five chambered one, not the six chambered cylinder depicted on her coat. I frowned, and Roulette continued her tale.

“I should have died, that fifth pull should have been the round, but it didn’t fire. And the stupid Stallion spat the gun back out into his hooves, pointing it at himself and shaking it to try and see where the round had gone.” She pulled a face, “it was a pretty beat up revolver, and a shitty round, so it hadn’t gone off with the trigger pull, but that fiddling touched off the round and took off his head.”

“Ponies think my special skill is luck, but I don’t think so. A lucky mare wouldn’t have one of their defining memories be being pelted with blood and bone and brains. They wouldn’t spend their youth wheeling their father around because he caught a stray round in the shootout that followed.”

She looked directly at me, “what do you think Operative, you think I’m lucky?”

“Maybe it’s not luck, maybe it’s beating the odds? Is it luck that wasteland raiders don’t maintain their weapons? Is it luck that 200 years in the dirt messes up ammunition?” I considered her for a moment, “was it luck that you persuaded a couple of wandering idiots to break you into a warehouse full of merchandise?”

Roulette laughed and gave me a tap on the shoulder with a hoof, “you make a good point Operative, and what about you? What’s with the swirlies on your butt?” she quickly deflected, changing the focus of the conversation.

I was quiet for a moment, then spoke up, “Razor Wind,” I said, seeing the confusion in her eyes, “my name is Razor Wind. And that’s what my mark represents, my special spell, the Silent Blade.”

Roulette’s expression was hard to parse, almost suspicious but it cleared up as she shrugged, “okie dokie lokie, I’m not sure that’s how cutie marks work, but I think I need to take a walk.” She rose to her hooves, “I’m gonna go bang this coffee cup on Railright’s door until he gets his tail in gear and sorts our train.”

She took a step or two then looked back over her shoulder, “good talking to you Razor, but don’t go telling my sob story to everyone.” She flashed me a grin, “it’ll be bad for business. And it’d make poor Dreamy cry.”

Of course, the mad mare did exactly what she threatened to do, waking the town leader from his slumber and insisting he get the train prepared. Neon Dream awoke to a frenzy of activity and grumbling ponies as everything was done ahead of schedule.

Neon Dream and I retreated to the small oasis of calm that was Absolutely Everything and sheltered there while the whole endeavour was assembled. Ditzy had worked fast and my operative barding was already repaired, with a few plates of reinforcement sewn into it as well to provide a touch more damage mitigation, without slowing me down. With my uniform back on, I certainly felt more at ease and ready to confront whatever madness Roulette had stirred up. I discussed our destination with Ditzy, hoping her 200 years of experience would help with our Canterlot excursion.

Without revealing the location of Station 2, I explained to her that we would be on the outskirts of Canterlot, out beyond the suburbs, and so I was hoping the concentration of pink cloud would be low. Ditzy agreed that the cloud shouldn’t be too strong by itself, but there was always water contamination and other esoteric after effects from the cloud. We agreed to purchase extra healing supplies and also to swear we were not to push into Canterlot proper while equipped with, well, anything.

Midmorning found us all assembled on a train that had a team of strong looking ponies harnessed up to the locomotive. When I queried why we were not going to use the train to, well, pull the train I got a rambling explanation about fuel being in a far-off land and no coal car. What they did have was a network of magical tech pulled from old sky carriages to help lighten the whole train and make it easier to pull. Apparently, the train they had lost recently was next in line for this upgrade, but hadn’t been into their workshop.

The three of us boarded the train, along with a couple of unicorns and a handful of earth ponies carrying rifles to guard the excursion. With a groan the large box car gate was raised high and the train pulling ponies gave a groan of their own as they strained against their harnesses. The train gave a judder as the wheels started to turn and the whole assembly began to roll along the tracks and out into the wasteland.

The return to the warehouse was shorter than our trek to New Appleoosa as the train ponies got up to a steady pace, hauling the lightened cars behind them. As we approached the distribution centre proper the unicorns dismounted and began to manipulate the switching levers, allowing the train to be reversed into the loading siding. The guards took up defensive positions and we trotted over to our makeshift barricade, hauling the junk aside to allow our help to enter the warehouse.

As we stepped inside Roulette put a hoof on my shoulder, “all right Operative, that’s your end of the bargain fulfilled,” as I turned to look at her, she gave an elaborate bow, “I free you to continue your quest to Canterlot.”

“What are you going to do?” Neon Dream was peering around me, and she grinned back at him,

“I’m gonna organise getting all this out of here. When you’re done in Canterlot, find me back in New Appleoosa. I’ll be there for a couple of days.” Her smile wasn’t quite reaching her eyes as she gave us a little shove back towards our ad-hoc entrance, “now git, have fun storming the castle.”

With that I walked back along the tracks to the junction and turned left to continue following them Northeast towards Canterlot. Neon dream fell into step slightly behind me, tossing a glance over his shoulder towards the warehouse.

“Do you think she’ll be ok?” he asked,

“Yes,” I nodded, “just so long as she doesn’t antagonise the wrong people.”

We walked in silence. At least, I was silent, Neon Dream on the other hoof was quietly singing along to the music on the radio as we marched along the rail line. I was convinced that the noise was drawing bloat sprites to us, but after the fourth encounter they seemed to learn to stay away. I did however insist on turning the music off as we got to the rail bridge over the river that would carry us over into the suburbs surrounding Canterlot.

It’s the Steam Hammer Memorial Bridge.

My rogue thoughts gave me a name to go with the structure. A brief thought of my own revealed no wartime exploits to explain the name.

It’s named for Steam Hammer, an earth pony worker on the bridge who-

Not important. We just need to cross it and keep our senses sharp. Ditzy told us about the pink flood and how far out the shield captured water had reached, there could be pink cloud related issues even here.

We followed the rails over the structure, which swayed disconcertingly beneath our hooves as the timbers felt a bit spongey. Carefully picking our way across we soon felt ourselves on solid ground again, but our pace had slowed as we looked around and kept our ears on a swivel, straining to make out... Something. The reality was that we still didn’t know what to expect from Canterlot.

Thankfully, our destination wasn’t far into the forbidding shadow of the mountain that bore the castle. About an hours walk from the bridge I held up a hoof to stop my pegasus companion in his tracks, then followed the rails to the left, at a nondescript junction.

Neon Dream looked around, puzzlement on his face, “How do you know it’s this one?” he asked

I tapped a hoof on the ground and he dropped his gaze. Beside my hoof, in the dirt between the rails, was a small metal plaque bearing the moon and cutie mark logo of the OIA. He seemed nonplussed, but that was understandable, the Office of Interministry Affairs was fairly unknown and secretive during the war, I can’t imagine it had become well known in the 200 years since.

“It shows we’re on the right track.’ It was only when Neon Dream let out an amused snerk that I noticed the pun. Sighing I led us along the track.

It wasn’t a long spur of track and soon we came to some kind of siding with a few buildings scattered around, a small crane and what looked like an engine shed. I checked my pipbuck, trying to hone in on the map marker Project Lead Muse had left. We left the rails and walked towards the buildings, looking around for any sign of a secret entrance to a secret bunker. It was not obvious.

Something moved in the corner of my vision. Stopping dead, I looked around, noticing that a pip had appeared on my EFS And was beginning to sweep across the compass line. I raised a hoof to signal Neon Dream and considered the contact, it was the same blue as the rest of HUD, not a threat by the standards of the EFS spell but still, this warranted caution. I drew Resolve and began to creep towards the pip, pressing against the walls of the scattered outbuildings. Peeking out from around a corner I caught sight of whoever was attached to the pip, and my eyes widened.

There was an Equestrian Army soldier walking about the area in full gear, barding, battle saddle, helmet, it was like some image of familiarity had stepped out of my memories and into the wasteland. They looked like they were still following a patrol route, looking at the ground I could see they were in some kind of track, a rut worn into the dirt. How long had ponies been walking this patrol?

In my head I knew this was not truly one of Equestria’s finest, it was a ghoul, and likely a feral one, but my heart ached for a touchstone to the life I knew. The soldier’s route wrapped around a building and jinked towards my hiding spot, the worn track indicating they would just pass on by, but as I looked back up, I saw the empty eyes looking out from under the helmet, and the rotting teeth in the slack jaw. I also saw the distention at the edges of the face where the pony’s head seemed to stretch out and merge with the helmet, the chin strap blended with chin and was probably the only thing preventing the jaw from just hanging all the way open.

I flinched, and in doing so, knocked against the building I was pressed against, the binoculars tapping against the brick. A cold light flickered into being within those empty eye sockets and a growl vibrated in the back of a dead throat. The pip on my EFS switched to red as the head of the ghoul swung round to look at me.

The ghoul had taken maybe three steps before Resolve barked and two rounds found their mark in the ghoul’s face, a third sparking off of the helmet that was now it’s head.

Neon Dream fluttered down beside me and was about to speak when a howl went up from further into the cluster of buildings, a second howl answered, and a third, as a thumping of hooves could be felt through the ground. Turning to the pegasus I could see panic flashing across his face and was about to instruct him to find a vantage point when there was a sudden, unnatural grating sound from behind me. Turning to look I could see a swirl of energy surrounding the felled ghoul as it rose back to its hooves, the bullet wounds shrinking into nothingness and the cold ghostlight returning to those sunken, empty eyes.

“Run!” I shouted, dumping Resolve back into my holster as I made a dash in whichever direction was away from the red pips.

The Canterlot Ghoul I had shot now let out it’s own howl and joined the pursuit.

The pair of us ducked between the scattered buildings, weaving our way between brick and concrete as we sought to evade the howling ghouls nipping at our hooves. I glanced back to see Neon Dream pounding along behind me, his ears pinned back flat against his head, eyes wide in terror. I mumbled an apology under my breath to him for plunging him back into a situation with feral ghouls and all the emotional baggage that came with it. We broke from the building cluster into open ground, rocky and desolate, dotted with the rusting corpses of 200 year old construction equipment.

“Neon!” I called back, “get airborn, see if you can spot them!” there was a clatter of hooves and a flap of wings as he sprung into the air, nearly clipping my beret on his way up.

I dashed to an earthmover, hoping to put some obstacle between myself and the ghouls as I tried to think up a plan. We still needed to find the entrance, but ‘not getting eaten’ also pretty high on my list of objectives. I pressed my back to the machinery and tried to slow my breathing. It would be helpful if I could remember which building was the entrance, but that information was lost in the dark hole in my mind. Sparing a glance at my pipbuck I tracked the map marker, it was closer to the rails, but didn’t quite tally up with any building in particular.

Would it have killed her to be more precise?

It is a secret facility. In any case, we needed to get back to the buildings, which meant getting those ghouls off of our tails for a moment. The red pips on my HUD were wiggling about, though I couldn’t judge if that was them being confused or converging. I sneaked a peek back to the building line and saw three ghouls walking out into the open, heads swinging from side to side, trying to track their prey. I didn’t appreciate being prey.

I looked about the sky, trying to spot my pegasus companion, catching a streak of black and blue ducking behind a crane. I allowed myself a short whistle, one eye on the ghouls as I did so, seeing their heads swivel around to all look in my direction. I gulped and shifted sideways as Neon Dream came in to land.

“whatrewegonnado!” he said, stumbling over the words slightly as they spilled forth, “ohcelestiatheyrecoming!”

I put a hoof on his forehead and he went crosseyed looking at it for a moment. “Calm yourself.” I said, trying to be gentle, “breath. Good. I have a plan.”

He gulped as his breathing slowed. I kept one eye on the red pips, watching them grow as the ghouls approached. I felt my mouth set into a tense line, then looked back at the pegasus.

“We’ll draw them in, then take them down,”

“but they just get back up.”

I nodded, “yes, but we just need to delay them, we need to head back into the buildings and find the entrance,” I could hear hooves crunching on the loose stones, “when I give the word, fly for the buildings, close to the tracks, try and take down one of the ghouls as you go.”

I readied Resolve as he nodded, the magical energy rifle sliding into it’s ready position, scope rotating over his exposed eye. I tensed, watching the pips and preparing to spring.

1...

2...

3...

“NUMPH!” turns out its hard to shout an order around a firearm’s mouthgrip. Neon Dream understood though, taking flight and heading over the earthmover as I sprang around the side. I dropped into SATS and decided to trust in my gun’s uncanny ability to be ready, and to hit, and just send one round at the first ghoul’s face, queuing up two shots on the second ghoul. As the spell took hold I felt the kick of the gun, the first round drilling into the right eye of the first ghoul, dropping him instantly, the next two rounds clipping the helmet of ghoul number two, one ricocheting into its neck, bursting its rotting throat. Two bodies hit the ground as I took off in a gallop, the deep buzz of Neon’s energy rifle humming in my ear as the red beam lanced out, burning chunks of flesh from one ghoul then drilling a glowing hole through the helmet merged into its head.

I was amongst the buildings when I heard the warping noise that signalled the ghouls resurrecting, encouraging me to put on a further burst of speed. I sped through the buildings, dodging left, right, right again, a second left, eyes roving for some kind of-there!

I wrenched myself around, one of the buildings was marked with the seven-pointed star symbol of the Ministry of Arcane Science, with a little OIA symbol below it.

“Neon!” I yelled, the red pips twitching and growing as I slammed myself into the door. Locked.

Of Course

“Not! Helping!” I snarled out loud, grabbing the handle in my teeth and shaking it. The lock held. I had never been good with lockpicking, but Invisible 9 powers often doubled as lockpick substitutes, at least 901’s had. I focused on the door, and the lock, visualising the other side of the door as there was a clatter of hooves above me. The air shimmered as Neon Dream called a warning, my teeth gritting in focus before I let the silent blade loose.

The hair on my back stood up as the buzz of the magical sniper shook my brain, the blade of my spell tearing the lock, and it’s mounting, apart. With a burst of energy, I spun in place to buck the door, catching a glimpse of a pony shaped cloud of red dust expanding and dispersing. My hooves made contact and wrenched the door open as a second ghoul rounded the corner.

My spell was still warm and, without really thinking, I fired it off again. The familiar haze settled in a ring around the charging ghoul’s neck before a spurt of ichor shot out, the head falling one way as the body dropped to its knees. Scooping up Resolve from where I had dropped it, I pushed off with my front legs, pitching my body back into my rear legs before using that momentum to rise up and twist, changing direction and heading into the building.

There was a spartan reception area, two chairs, a desk with terminal perched upon it and a door at the far side. I galloped over to the door, which was also closed and had no discernible handle. More obstacles. I gave an irritated nicker and glared at the door.

Maybe the terminal?

Grudgingly agreeing with my rogue thoughts, I trotted over to the terminal, wiping away a layer of dust from the screen and tapped the keys, triggering the BIOS backdoor and hammering through potential passwords. After my second reset I decided that some assistance might be required and flicked the connector cable out of my pipbuck.

“We’ve not got very far, have we?" Neon Dream’s voice came from over my shoulder as I plugged the pipbuck in.

[Authorized device detected. Please authenticate.]

The terminal seemed happy, but looking down at my pipbuck it was asking for a password. Project Lead Muse’s password. The password back in Station 5 had been ‘medical’ and it seemed Luna was with me as it also worked here.

[Access Granted. Welcome Dr Muse.]

There was a whine and a grinding noise as the sealed door slid open, revealing a short corridor. A different whine came from outside as the last ghoul caught up with us and gazed briefly at its fallen brethren. That caught me off guard and I stared at the last ghoul, how feral were these feral ghouls? My reverie was broken by a tug on my tail, I frowned, it was cut short to dissuade that. Turning my head, I saw Neon Dream trying to drag me to the open door.

We dashed through and the door closed behind us. The corridor held a number of doors on either side, the familiar split doors of elevators with their little call buttons glowing beside them. Or, at least, next to two of them. I walked up to the nearest lit button and tapped it with my hoof, the door instantly opening to reveal the cab. Both of us squeezed inside and I looked at the floor buttons. There was only one, ‘Admin & Operations’. I pressed it and felt the rumble through my hooves as the elevator began to descend.

“That was close.” I said, looking over at Neon Dream,

“Damn right it-blech,” he pressed a hoof to his mouth, trying to scrape off a couple of hairs on his tongue, “that was much to close to your behind.”

I frowned at him, eyebrows knitting together in disapproval, and while he did not immediately hide behind his mane, he had the good grace to look a little sheepish.

“There might be more ghouls down here,” I said, “so stick close to me.”

I heard him shuffle his hooves and struggle to repress a giggle. I sighed, feeling my tail twitch,

“Not that close.”

Author's Note

Thanks to kkat for creating this crazy mashup and letting others play around in it.
Thanks to Somber too, I may reference things from Project Horizons and Homelands here and there.