Fallout Equestria : Storm Protocol

Written by : Thundercloud

Edited by : Thundercloud, Sharps, and Xythis

(I don't want to set Equestria…on.. Fire!)

Location : City of Ralneigh, Grand Pegasus Enclave
Time : 0630 Equestrian Military Time

Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria…

The alarm clock on the side of my bed sounded, that shrill alarm letting me know it was time to get up and continue service to the Grand Pegasus Enclave. I shifted in bed and after smacking the dresser made of cloud wood three or four times, finally shut off the alarm.

“Good Morning!” My wife, a white pegasus with a purple mane, sing-songed as she rolled out of bed, stretched, and planted a kiss on my cheek. She then made her way out the door and down into the kitchen to start on breakfast. I couldn't help but sneak a gaze at her backside, she was my love after all, and watched as her cutie mark of a crescent moon, overlapped by a small gear.

“Ugh.” I tried very hard to form coherent words and get my body in gear, but all I got was a heavy yawn. I took a few minutes to sit in bed, and watch as the sun rose over the horizon, casting orange glows into the bedroom. I was not a morning pegasus…

I finally shifted and rose, slipping on a quartet of slippers that sat under the bed, and began to follow her down the hall, making sure to stop in the bathroom as I went. The condensation from the shower I just took finally began to evaporate from the mirror, allowing me to see myself. My tan coat shimmered from the trapped water as I toweled off, and I attempted to wrangle my fiery orange mane to a manageable state. After determining I had combed it down to a reasonable level, I turned and exited the bathroom. As I went, the mirror caught and reflected my cutie mark, a trio of dark gray clouds that supported a bronze flagpole, flying a purple flag at full mast. Under the center-most cloud, a very vibrant golden-yellow lightning bolt projected earthward.

I had received my cutie mark in class around my thirteenth birthday, when one of my teachers, whom I remember to be very crabby in his advanced age, fell abruptly in class. I had flitted up out of my desk, almost like some ghost of a force told me exactly what to do, and began directing my classmates to call the office, help Mr. Chalk, or assure them everything would be fine and not to panic. After the ambulance had taken him to the hospital, I had noticed I had received my cutie mark, somewhere in all the chaos.

Say what you will about how I received it, but you cannot deny what it meant. I was born to lead others, that much was shown all throughout my career. But, there is a part of me that still questions if this is the right path. Sure, the Enclave has been great to me, but I sometimes find myself questioning if the Enclave should be isolationist anymore. We could do a lot of good for the wasteland if we tried, but the politicians are content with packing their pockets and telling us what to do.
I navigated downstairs and had just stepped off the stairs when I felt the sensation that something was off.

“DIVEBOMB!” Screamed a small voice, as a gray pegasus colt with dark blue hair came rocketing off the second story balcony… Right onto my back.

I fell in a heap as the mass of a seventy-pound missile impacted me. Rolling out from under my kid, I shot him a dangerous scowl. “Storm Cloud……”
He looked away guiltily, no doubt wishing he had not just decided to practice Washout’s stunt.

“Landing needs work,” I teased. He got a big smile on his face, and flittered to his hooves, all the while talking in one breath about the play-by-play of the stunt he just performed. I didn't really want to hear it, but as any parent would do, I silently nodded along while trying to forget the pain in my back. Finally when he was done, I ushered him into the kitchen where my wife, Misty Days, began scolding him for jumping off the balcony onto my back like some wild-pony. I chuckled and followed him in.

But, a little history lesson needs to be given, to understand how Ralneigh came to be the center of events yet to come. When the Last Day dawned, and zebra bombs impacted Cloudsdale, the current Pegasus Military Command issued a plan that was not to be ignored. All pegasi were ordered home, and a thick cloud cover was produced to prevent other Megaspell and Balefire bombs from finding their mark.

And now onto Ralneigh. Aka, my home. Being a pre-war epi-center of cloud production, ranked fourth on total cloud production in the region, the great factories shifted into overdrive and within a matter of minutes, dark, swirling clouds began to cover the sky. It must have been a sight to behold, but that also made it a prime target… Unfortunately, either a crazy or downright stupid zebra had the idea to launch a Balefire-tipped missile, right at Ralneigh. Though the bomb did hit its mark, it fell through the unfinished cloud curtain. Some fluke, some mechanical failure, or by the grace of the Princesses, the bomb then went on dud right underneath the metropolis. A few-hundred years later, the Enclave led a team of techs down and successfully disarmed the bomb, leaving it inert on the wastelands surface.

My family and I moved to Ralneigh two years ago, when the E.I.A. had transferred me to this sector. Even though I worked in intelligence, my job was not a cushy desk position. I was what was called an ‘operative’, leading a small team similar to a task force in field missions. Hunting dashites, rooting out cartels, collecting and disposing of contraband, you get the picture. I had been promoted to captain after I located the headquarters of a pegasi-operated cartel, who loved to traffick, murder, and pawn contraband to the seedy belly of Neighvarro for profit. I have a fond memory of showing up at the gate of the Neighvarro Detention Facility, and casually dropping off the prisoners and contraband.

===***===

After a nice breakfast of toast with cloud-berry jam, and washed down with some cloud-grown orange juice, I dressed in my freshly pressed uniform that I had excessively ironed last night. The tan and black uniform was little more than a dark tan overcoat with a black stripe down the middle where it closed around my neck and chest. The under-barding that went with it was a set of long-sleeve, black coveralls reaching down to my hooves. The collar of my coat was adorned with two connected silver bars, signifying my rank of captain. On down, the pocket on the right side of my uniform displayed a small name-tape, the left sporting numerous colorful ribbons from my various awards and service recognition. My shoulder’s bore patches of the symbol of the Enclave Intelligence Corps, a picture of planet Equis with small rainbow lines criss-crossing the planet, intersecting in the lower hemisphere. A large torch was lit upon the north pole, with the south having olive branches set under it. After pulling on and securing the black fliers boots to each of my hooves, I attached a small tactical pouch onto my right fore-hoof. And finally, the creme de la creme of my uniform… The Enclave pipbuck.

While everypony and their mother knows what a pipbuck is and what it does, these ones are different in their construction process. The Enclave does not have any unicorns, they just can't walk on clouds. No unicorns means no arcano magic manipulation to their degree, which means we cannot fix or reproduce the stock models of the devices. So, taking the blueprints, the Enclave reproduced the pipbuck system by system, only replacing those that required a unicorn’s touch with simpler, cloud-produced arcano-chips which gave life to a cheaper and simpler, but still fully functional, copy of the coveted Stable-Tec model. Only the leaders of high-risk teams, like the one I commanded got one, and I felt honored to be given the opportunity to use one.

I made my way back downstairs after dressing, meeting my family in the kitchen again. Storm Cloud was finishing up some homework from last night, while Misty was washing dishes. She turned away from dish duty to look over her shoulder at me. “Gonna be home tonight in time for dinner? I’m planning on cooking a casserole.”

She placed the cloth and still dirty dish into the sink, and walked up next to me, affectionately leaning against me. I returned the gesture, looping a wing around her neck, and replied, “I'll try. You know work is crazy right now with the inspections and civil unrest. The more times the ‘Thunderheaders’ press for helping those heathens down on the surface, the more we lose good ponies. And that usually means more paperwork from internal investigations and field duty for the saps like me.” I half-heartedly chuckled, but it didn’t discount all the weight surrounding it.

I sighed. Thunderhead, one of the other Enclave governmental cities located near the old Shadowbolt Tower out in what once was Hoofington, had started to send civilian contractors down to the surface to help the earth ponies and unicorns about a week or three prior. The intention was honest, virtuous even; starting to help reclaim and rebuild old Equestria in the safe hooves of the GPE. But non-pegasi started to treat the ‘Volunteer Corps’ wrong. Raids on outposts, mass execution, et cetera.

Regardless of the failed approach, the Thunderhead council are sticking to their guns, and will not see reason to end the VC experiment, or at least let ponies as sensible as Neighvarro or any other GPE councils with actual military knowledge to help protect the VC. They kept citing it as ‘isolated events’. Phh, My ass.

A horn sounding right outside cut my train of thought. Storm Cloud scrambled to grab his saddlebag from the chair, and his lunch pail from the counter. “Bye Mom, Bye Dad. Love you!” He yelled as he rushed outside and quickly mounted the waiting Sky-Bus, a large metal wagon designed to transport supplies and pegasi between other Enclave cities and inner areas.

Steered by a pegasus in a blue city utility jumpsuit, and powered by four large spark battery canisters located in the lower rear left and right sides of the wagon, The Sky-Bus allowed a levitation talisman to do most of the heavy lifting, quite literally, while the pegasus in charge directed steering and speed.

Misty and I shared a laugh with each other, remembering all too well our days of begrudgingly getting up in the mornings and making our way to school. “Well,” Misty began, “if something comes up, let me know. Mr. And Mrs. Sky will be coming over tonight as well for dinner, and I hope they will bring some of that okra they work hard to tend to each season.” She sealed the thought by planting a kiss on my muzzle. When I returned it, she went back over to the dishes and began drying them again.

My pipbuck began to beep, signifying I had to leave to board the tram to the E.I.A.’s office. “I'll call you and let you know” I called as I made my way to the door. “See you later, hon.”

It was returned with a “Love you!” from my mare.

Stepping outside of my two-story, cloud brick apartment, I shivered at the morning's coolness. I spread my tan wings and took flight, flying at a reasonable speed towards the inner city train platform. As with many other pre-war systems designed for non-pegasi, the Ralneigh Elevated Line transported ponies and supplies all over the city and to other nearby facilities within its reach. I landed close to my home station in a small roundabout, located in one of the shopping plaza areas. Large, two and three story brick buildings sat displaying goods, services, and stationary items. A small Trotline Diner, a pre-war diner chain, sat packed with pegasi enjoying their breakfast just off the ramp of the platform. I entered into the crowd, inserting two gold Enclave bits into the ticket terminal, and made my way up onto the raised platform and onto the car marked ’Military Personnel Only’. I returned a half-dozen salutes to the pegasi who stood at attention, and sat down in a booth towards the back.The dark blue, almost steel gray train carriages, operated on wheels and powered by miniature spark reactors in the forward and rear facing control cabs, began rolling along the tracks laid long before the nuclear holocaust. I sat idly by and watched as the train stopped at two other, similar stations in its route of the city, allowing other personnel to disembark and board the train. At one such stop, a tan pegasus stallion, with a purple mane highlighted with blue streaks in it, stepped on at the station near the tall apartments of downtown.

“Good Morning, Lieutenant Shady'' I greeted as he approached me. Shady Skies had been a part of my squad and friend group for a good year and a half now, serving as the technical specialist and my second in command. His uniform displayed a single gold bar on his collar pieces, and patches of the Enclave Technician insignia, a pegasus flying, wings outstretched. In their left forehoof, an olive branch sat. In their right, a wrench. A large ‘E’, surrounded by stars and three vertical bars on either side sat overlayed on the image. His cutie mark was very… Peculiar… A pixelated arrow, digitizing at the rear. I still have no idea as to what it meant…

“Morning, Cap’ ” he replied as he plopped down next to me. “Did you hear about the missing shipment?” He produced a Sparkle~Cola from his leg pouch with his wing, and in one fail swoop, he had flicked the bottle cap off the top in the air with his front left hoof, and pocketed it when it came back down. His usual ‘party trick’ but one that still bewildered me as to how he perfectly performed it each time.

“Probably going to be a cart full of paperwork, and field duty for us. That is usually what the big stallion does with these scenarios. Fifth time this month a shipment has gone missing.” Usually, the Sky-Tanks and A.F.W.s can hold their own against little less than a small army. The Armored Fighting Wagons usually came equipped with the most colorful assortment of magical plasma and energy cannons, alongside autonomous point defense turrets. Add those to the Sky-Tanks, twin-barreled, one-hundred twenty millimeter recoilless rifles, and you have the recipe for a few dead idiots who decided to try and challenge one to a fight.

Taking a swig of the carrot-flavored cola, Shady sat back in his seat and thought for a moment. “Hmm, it doesn't just seem to add up though, Cap…” He thought for a moment more, swishing his cola in the bottle. “Convoys are protected usually with a full wing of Pegasi, alongside four or five A.F.W.s, maybe even a tank or two. Who would be stupid enough to take one on?”

“Speculation will get you nowhere, Lieutenant Skies.” A firm voice ordered from the doorway. On stepped another tan stallion, with a black mane that perfectly matched the eyepatch over his right eye. He wore a similar barding to everyone else on board, but aside from the blue trim around the black inlay, his collar rested four stars arranged in a square.

Everyone on the carriage immediately stood at attention. “At ease” came the bored response. In contrast to his tan-ish barding, his cutie mark portrayed a downward facing sword, with a set of golden wings holding it aloft. A perfectly sane and sensible cutie mark, Shady…

“Good Morning, General Star Chaser.“ I said as he made his way to our bench. Star Chaser had been my XO, that’s executive officer for those not familiar with the lingo that the military just adores, for more than half of my career in the GPE. He had lost his eye in a skirmish with griffon mercs, when a griffon, armed with a glaive, managed to maneuver around his block and thrusted into his helmet's visor. He had almost died, but managed to pull through long enough for us to get a medevac.

“Good Morning, Captain, Lieutenant. Hmm. Do either of you have a lighter?''
Upon his request, Shady produced one out of his left saddlebag, more like thin air. I found it strange that he had one, purely because he never smoked. Well, he was a packrat after all, so attributing it up to that.
Star Chaser produced a small, wooden case from his inner pocket, and after a moment of deliberation, selected a thick cigar satisfactorily and accepted Shady’s lighter. As he lit it, he whispered to us,"I have info on where and how this most recent patrol was hit. Follow me to my office for your briefing.”

I nodded. The train made its stop in the military sector of Ralneigh, and we disembarked alongside the typical hoof-traffic this time of day. Following the general, we approached a large, brick building. If the numerous guard checkpoints and automated Sentinel robots patrolling were not clear enough, this was the headquarters of the military in the sector. And if all of that didn't ring a bell, the name certainly was a giant clue to its past purpose and significance. Ralneigh Strategic Megaspell Command.

Two-hundred odd years after the fact and it still served as the nerve-center for all military operations on or above the surface in this region. Clearing security, moved into the lofty main foyer and into an awaiting elevator terminal. This would take us to the sixth floor, which was home to the E.I.A.’s satellite office.

Stepping out into a world of ringing phones and beeping terminal arrays, the conversations of dozens of pegasi, both military and civilian contractors echoed as I passed them. Star Chaser finally reached his office, a large, raised room overlooking the wide open work-cubicles. Along the way, I managed to locate and gather the rest of my squad.

First was Gusty Weather, more commonly called ‘Doc’. A blue stallion with a mint-colored mane, and a cutie mark of a caduceus with a needle in the middle. He was a good soul, and an even better medic.

Racer, a pink mare with a lilac mane. Her cutie mark was a gust of wind moving left to right, and she usually was considered the ‘hotshot’ of the group. Racer liked to spoil for a fight, but still kept a cool head and helped with Shady’s technical know-how.

And finally, Cloud Buster. A peach colored stallion with a steel colored mane. His cutie mark was that of a shield, with a horseshoe in the middle. He didn't like to talk much, but excelled at being our heavy ordinance operator.

We all gathered in Star Chaser’s office as he sat down opposite to us at his fancy desk and pressed his forehooves together, observing us through a pair of glasses positioned on the end of his muzzle. “Now then,” He started. “As you all have noticed, shipments go missing from time to time. This can be explained by logistical errors. But, more have been lately, and command has found it harder and harder to continue to explain the disappearances with that excuse.”

He paused to make sure we were following, then continued. “Recently, we have begun packing trackers to discourage shipments from going missing. When this most recent shipment diverted from its chartered course, we got a notification.” Out from his desk drawer, he produced an envelope, sliding it across the desk to us. “We need you to retrieve it, and find out what in the Goddesses name happened.”

I nodded and took the package, emptying the contents out. Inside was a small radio receiver that was emitting static noise, and a printed sky-high view image of a building on the surface with a- Building on the surface? I rechecked the picture. Sure enough, placed on a hill next to what appeared to be a muddy river, was an old brownish colored building. I glanced back up at Star Chaser, the confusion in my eyes apparent. How did a weapons shipment end up on the surface? Star Chaser seemed to predict my question as he opened his muzzle to speak.

“That part is a mystery. The building pictured is over a hundred kilometers away from the convoy's flight plan. Gravity can't do that.”
I passed the photo to the rest of my friends, and absentmindedly turned the radio receiver over in my wing’s grasp. Their confusion was equally apparent.

“So..." Star Chaser continued, “that is where your team comes into the picture. Load up your squad with a tactical insertion kit; no grenades or heavy ordinance of any kind. Your mission is to discern how the shipment got to that building, what purpose did it serve to steal GPE property, and who took it.”

I nodded, already heading to the armory to gather my kit. “Yes sir, I'll make sure it gets done.” Star Chaser nodded, and wished us luck as we saw ourselves out. Cloud Buster said something about getting the equipment together if I readied the flight plan for the Vertibucks, and hurried off. This was going to be a long day…

===***===

A two-hour ride from the Ralneigh airfield later, and the Vertibuck jolted from some caught turbulence as we neared the insertion spot. Already, the cramped crew compartment was alive with final ready checking of battle-saddles, technical equipment, and trauma kits. We had no idea what to expect as the wasteland was a vile and harmful land, one that was said to easily turn an honorable pegasus into one of cruelty. I glanced up to the pilots, their wings outstretched and integrated into the control sticks. It was easier to use a pegasi’s innate ability to fly for controls like this, so the tech suit each pegasus wore allowed easy integration to and from the controls, allowing the flying craft to be a kind-of an extension to our biology.

The Vertibuck was designed to carry what a standard military cart could not, and to serve as a gunship if the need arose. The one we rode on, lovingly labeled Tart Cart, was one such model. Its main complement of mark-four, Tartarus-class incendiary missile pods strapped to the underside of the port and starboard wing, gleamed polished silver in the dull cloud-covered sky whenever the sun caught them. Forty-five rockets, slimmed down to just the size of a leg, could deliver a seventy-two ton, fiery blast whenever the going was rough. It was safe to say we felt relieved that we had two of the aircraft assigned to us for this Op.
“Twenty Seconds!” Called the green pilot mare through the onboard speakers. We stood ready, all of us encased in our black, insectoid-looking Enclave power armor. Racer swung her stinger-like tail in anticipation as I leaned out over the edge of the crew cabin towards the ground, trying to get a better view of the town. My first impression of the wasteland as I slid the door open was how dark, and cold it was. The air smelled stale, even through my helmet’s integrated rebreather, and it felt like I was looking at an alien planet.

Our landing lad was on an old pegasus chariot landing pad, on the uphill run of the facility. Didn't want to alarm the local yokels more than we had to by landing right in the middle of their town. I managed to spot a brick-layed sign, displaying the name of the old facility as the Vertibucks spun down their rotors.

Equestrian army listening station at Sugar Grove. MoI/MoM affiliate.

MoI and MoM? If I recall correctly, those were two of the ministries that governed Equestria before the bombs. Ministry of Image, and the Ministry of Morale if my History of Equestria course was remembered correctly… What were they doing here?

Racer’s scratchy voice broadcast through my ear blooms, interrupting my thought. “E.F.S. shows signals near the facility, around forty of ‘em?”

I booted my Eyes Forward Sparkle system, as well, to confirm the callout. Sure enough, my HUD was filled with marks, all painted as non-hostile yellow. “Alright, stay here.” I ordered the pilots. “We have confirmed contacts that are neutral reading currently. If anything goes wrong, I want you guys to fly in and pick us up… And make sure they pay for it.“ I added, and was satisfied when I heard the safeties switching off of the Vertibuck’s magical gatling beam-cannons and launcher systems…

I motioned to my squad to follow me up the hill. Up we climbed the narrow and steep driveway. It was a shallow dropoff on both sides, right into the muddy marshlands below, so we made sure not to lose our balance. We closed on the large gate and wall, built of various types of scrap and surrounding the building's perimeter. The wall was built out of a hodgepodge of wood, corrugated metal, tires, and earth pony long-hauling trailers, making up most of it. And the residents had dug a trench the height of an adult stallion around the base of the wall. The gate was mainly just a large railroad boxcar, with scrappy fortifications built onto it. Through the firing holes and on top of the walls, I could see earth ponies and unicorns scrambling around to meet the unknown foes with an assortment of scrappy weapons.

“Check your fire.” I whispered into my mic as I felt the tension get stronger. I took a deep breath to calm myself, and switched my mic to external speaking. “Your attention please! I am Captain Thundercloud of the Grand Pegasus Enclave. I come in peace, and wish to discuss a matter with your leader.”

I watched as an orange earth stallion, with a darker orange mane and a very disgruntled look, popped his head over the wall to look down at us. “Whaddah’ ya want’?” He spoke with a thick, appleachian accent. I could tell he was wearing a very clean black suit, something far out of place for the dirty wasteland, and a pair of black glasses on his muzzle, which began to slide off when he looked down. He quickly adjusted them, but remained still.
“We wish to discuss a matter in private. It won't take long.” I answered as I stared at him through my helmet's orange visors.

Seeming to think for a minute, he sighed and turned to an individual out of sight. “Let em’ in”

The gate creaked as the metallic doors retracted, to reveal a group of unicorns holding rusty guns in their telekinetic grasps. Made from what looked like plumbing pipe, the guns looked more likely to fall apart than to kill someone. They smiled sheepishly as we marched into the town. I spotted the stallion that had talked to us approaching us from the wall’s stairs, bringing in tow with him a teal unicorn with a dark gray mane. The unicorn wore a white, dapper-looking hat and sunglasses. What was this, a fashionista colony? It was a good thing I kept disbelievingly looking at their clothes, as both stallions openly carried magic energy pistols… We had a lead.

The pair stopped in front of my group and I, and the orange stallion cleared his throat. “Uhh, welcom’ta’ Sugar Grov’. Ah’m Blackwood, President of tha’ town. This here’s Bullion Squeezer, our head merch’nt and Secretary of Treasury” He gestured to the teal unicorn, who was eyeing up our armor with some sort of gaze that I couldn't really discern.

I stood aghast, these stallions must be crazy if they had a treasury this far into bum-fuck nowhere.

“You already know my name, but this is Shady Skies, Racer, Cloud Buster and Gusty Weather.” I gestured to each as they nodded or waved a hoof. “We are following a lead on missing energy weapons belonging to us, that is to say, the Pegasus Government.”

They must have caught my glance at their hips as the teal unicorn, named Bullion Squeezer, answered in an exuberant tone. “Indeed… You must have seen our guns I guess?” The unicorn crackled crazily, which set me aback a bit. “We got these from the facility here yesterday. A huge crate with GPE painted on the side.”

Well, that sort of explains how they got them. But leaves out everything else. “Okay? You found them inside you said? Can you go into detail on that matter?” I pressed, hoping I could get a bit more out of this crazed stallion.

Bullion Squeezer shrugged in response. “Found ‘em in this building's command center an hour or two after hearing weird noises through the night. All I can tell you. I reckon’ these are the guns you are looking for?”

Despite getting nothing else of substance from the line of questioning, I straightened up and assumed a commanding and professional voice “Yes, relinquish them immediately, sirs, they do not belong to you.” The two of them glanced at each other, and the orange buck shifted. “I also recommend you lead me to where you found them so that I may investigate further.” I finished matter-of-factly.

Blackwood coughed, it was more like a tension breaker. “We don’ want’ no trouble. We’can do that, but, I ask ya’ if you can’ share a drink with me ‘n Squeeze first."

I paused for a moment. Why offer a drink to me? Did they want to try and poison me? "Why so, Mr. 'President’?” I said suspiciously as I shifted, trying hard not to laugh at the absurd title the stallion had given himself.

"Gud drink is always great fur' negotiatin's" He responded with a shrug and upbeat tone.

I decided to give these stallions the benefit of the doubt and trust them for lack of another plan. “I accept. Afterwards, you can show my team and I the entrance.” Another glance between the two of them, so I decided to bring it up. “Is there… Something wrong?”

“Uh, yeah actually.... Tha’ door seal’d when we tried tah’ reenter tah’ investigate. Ah’ think that was… About three hours before y'all got here.”

Ok… Strange that it happened recently. But the most logical thing is that they must have triggered some security systems.

“No worries, I'll have my technical specialist tend to it.” I gestured to Shady, and he busied himself by rooting through his saddlebags and began pulling out a hack tool. “Lieutenant, you and Racer see to the door. The rest of you, follow me and stand guard.” Racer and Shady nodded, and set off towards the aged building.

We followed the pair to a large shack in the middle of what looked to be an old Equestrian drill pad. The torn and ragged flag of Equestria still hung limply on the pole, giving a solemn reminder as to what this once was.

The shack was a two story, wood and corrugated metal house that served as what I assumed to be a makeshift senate chamber, presidential mansion, and council chamber. Cloud Buster stood guard while Gusty rooted through his medical gear, checking it one more time. I, on the other hoof, enacted 'diplomacy'.

I was ushered into Blackwood’s office. The only furniture inside was nothing more than a very nice, but dusty desk, some raggedy old cloth chairs, and paintings of what seemed to be Blackwood and his family.

Blackwood sat behind the desk, me and Bullion Squeezer on the other side in the chairs. I sat down slowly, causing the chair to groan and act like it wouldn't support my weight, but it held fine surprisingly. “Huh… Good chair.” I praised, and the earth stallion nodded.

With a shuffle underneath his desk, he brought up a bottle of Wild Pegasus Whiskey, pouring a drink and taking a swig. He then poured one for me and the unicorn, then himself again. Well… If he insists… I thought. Then reached up and unlatched my helmet, lifting it off as Bullion looked at me with mock surprise.

“Egads! So he isn’t a robot after all.” He cackled, then took the shot in his telekinetic grasp and downed it in one, puckering up as he did. “SQUEEZE, that's good.”

My eyes widened, and I shot him a confused look.

“I usually stick to wine.” The teal unicorn justified. Okay? That doesn't explain why you yelled squeeze…

I swirled my drink for a minute, then concluding that it was, indeed not poisoned, drank it; letting the burn of the whiskey trickle down my throat.

Blackwood spoke in the silence. “Well… you're really gonna’ take tha’ guns?" He drawled as he looked me up and down. “Ah’ figure you have enou’f of’em.” He finished with a hint of sarcasm.

"This is the standard protocol, Mr. Blackwood. These guns belong to the government.” I explained coolly and professionally.

He sighed. “Daa’um. Ah’ was just gettin’ tah’ like mah’ survivors spec’al."

I blinked, then realized he was referring to the gun on his hip. Many pegasi troopers named theirs, though I had not found a suitable name to attribute to my plasma castor’s mounted on my battle-saddle. The thought died when a series of thudding and thumping from up above us broke out.

Blackwood groaned and took a broom in his right hoof, stood up in his chair, and rapidly struck the shoddy floor that separated the first and second stories, yelling, "keep'it down up there, you two!" The noise died down and I heard a young voice call out "sorry dad."

"Your foals?" I glanced back from the roof to Blackwood, who still stood balanced on the rickety cloth chair.

"Yea'. They’r prob’ly fght'n with those foam guns we found for'em. Got foals yur'self?"

I was about to answer when my pipbuck’s communications line buzzed from an incoming request. I took out one of its earblooms, and answered the call.

“Cap, we managed to get the door partially powered and unlocked. We are ready when you are." Shady reported. I was happy to hear the positive news.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, we will be there soon.” I replied. I picked up my helmet and resealed it. Blackwood and Bullion must have put two and two together about the nature of the brief conversation, as they followed me out the door. Opening the door, I filled Doc, Weather and Cloud Buster in, and we climbed the steps up to the foyer of the facility where Shady and Racer waited.

FOOTNOTE : PERK OBTAINED. DIPLOMACY RANK ONE. A SMART BUCK CAN GET ANYWHERE BY APPEALING TO THE FINER TASTES. GO FOR A DRINK!

Author's Note

Author's note : Thank you so much for reading. This is my first FanFic I have written at all so go easy on me Hahah. I wanted to start small, and work my way up. So pointers are welcome. I want to thank KKat for creating this fandom, and the rest of the Equestrian Wasteland story-tellers for fleshing it out. Yall the bomb! I will try and drop some hints and references here and there to other stories I have read so keep an eye out for them. If you want to join my discord server I have with my friends, here is the link. see you there! https://discord.gg/djBspntBZM. Once again, thank you. Thundercloud out!