Fallout Equestria: Storm Protocol

Written by: Thundercloud

Edited by : Thundercloud, Sharps, Xythis, and Moss Light

(“I’m a travel’in buck. I’ve made a lotta’ stops, almost everywhere. And in every port, I own the heart of at least one lovely mare.”)

Location: Settlement of Flatwoods, Equestrian Wasteland
Time: 02:56 Equestrian military time

You know the feeling you get, when you realize you have just ran yourself up shit creek? This was one of those moments… In fact, this was me being cast away in a shit ocean, with a hurricane raging right on top of me. Thank the Goddesses, whoever watches me from up above had different plans to me becoming swiss cheese-cloud.

The iron pony spooling the minigun remained just that, not squeezing just a little harder and turning this stressful standoff into a firefight. I squinted into the gloom, letting the adrenaline flow as I did all in my power to ignore the minigun, mere inches from my face.

The gloomy atmosphere inside the town hall didn’t bring anything else good to the situation. In addition to War Machine breathing down my neck, I counted six other ponies, dressed in variations of power armor, combat barding, or some ridiculous cult-like robes, inside the foyer. Added to the ones visible, two near-completely hidden Magical Energy Rifles, one on either side of the door jam, pointed at my head.

Nine Rangers? Ok… Information gathered, now onto business. I growled again, puffing myself up and spreading my wings to seem commanding and larger. “If you don’t get that minigun out of my face, it’ll end up shoved up your metallic ass..” The spooling slowed, but did not stop completely. Progress, I guess?

One of the ponies in armor stepped forward. His armor was ornate, and almost looked fresh off the line. The silver-gray armor had accents of orange, painted in stripes around his pasterns, shoulders, and forehead. His left shoulder continued the orange color scheme , by displaying an emblem of a sword, bisecting a pair of wings. In this half-moon shape, three cogwheels sat, overlayed by the blade. His right shoulder displayed an orange silhouette of a shield, cut away near the bottom to appear like an inlaid sword resting on top, flanked by two orange wings. This, to what I could reasonably assume, was a rank. Though I wasn’t sure what the rank was exactly. But by the way he sized me up, I could tell he was calling the shots.

“So…” The voice rang out, deep and baritone from the active modulator. “The cowardly butcher finally returns home.”

I pinched the bridge of my muzzle with a wing. “Look dumbass, I didn’t kill your patrol.” I snapped. “A pissed off, big ass bug did. Now, with that out of the way. I would very much appreciate it if you took your merry band of morons out of this town.”

The armored pony scoffed. “Enclavers are all the same. Lying, conniving, cowards. If you say you didn’t ruthlessly butcher my stallions and mares, how do you explain the incomplete messages we received that detailed a pair of Enclave Pegasi, attacking them?”

I facehooved. “Damn. Recruiters must be getting desperate these days. If you used that bit of gray matter between your ears, you would understand the word, incomplete, and its significance in your proof.”

“Enlighten me…” The armored pony growled.

I exhaled harshly, I definitely didnt have time for this. “We were followed by a giant mutated bee, out of its cave. Your patrol just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

The armored pony laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “You may have not laid a hoof on them, but you led the creature to them. Therefore-" The laser weaponry mounted on his battle-saddle charged, “You inadvertently caused their deaths, making you responsible.”

“Now wait just’ah moment’!”

I scanned the gloomy room. Sure enough, Written Memo was standing inside her office. By her nightgown, she probably was roused from her sleep when the Rangers decided to come play.

“Ya’ herdem. Your patrol was caught ‘n tha’ open. Not kill’d by’em.”

“Mayor Memo… You had best learn your place, before we decide that your town is not worthy of our protection…” He chided, his tone attempting to sound smooth and friendly.

“Protection? Lik’ Tartarus! We dun’ told’yall enough, we don’t need y’all’s protection, Paladin! We do fine on’r own.” She angrily retorted.

Paladin? Are we in the middle ages now? “She is right, Paladin…” I said, drawing out his rank or name or whatever it was in a mocking tone. “The only damage that has been done was caused by YOUR subordinates; not anything we have done.”

A door at the far end shot open, breaking apart the dialogue, and a Ranger stepped out, dragging a pony in her telekinetic grasp. It was not until the figure shifted in the dim light that I saw the patchy and leathery skin, and mane style. Treehugger…

“Get!” She stated, struggling and attempting to twist out of the magical hold. “Get off me!” Her eyes locked onto me, and they narrowed. Written Memo growled, and began moving slowly her mouth down to her nightgown's pocket.

“Found the rotten zombie hiding in a backroom. Thought you should know about it.” The mare said with a scratchy tone.

Treehugger, to her credit, was able to break the levitation aura long enough to lash out with a hind hoof, missing entirely as the mare dodged just in time. “What are your orders, sir?”

He shifted an inch, most likely thinking about his next actions. “You may not have done anything,” he growled finally,“But you are part of a group that has caused the deaths of millions, both directly, and indirectly. For that, you and the zombie are under arrest and are to be put to death.”

I began to shift my weight to the side, bracing to take flight and hopefully avoid the hail of bullets. At that moment, my deflection training kicked in. Keep him talking, I thought. “Only a coward kills civs,” I accused.

The Paladin twitched for a moment, and then snorted. “Civ? No. That thing is an abomination, a mindless zombie. And the only good zombie is a dead one. Not that you care anyways, isn’t that the Enclave’s modus operandi? Purge the impure? Cauterize the wound so gravely inflicted during a war two-hundred years ago?”

I shifted my weight again, dropping my front half low and rising up my flanks in a textbook combat tackle stance. Her death wouldn’t be on my hooves.

“We prefer the term unwashed. And you, my friend, need to bathe more regularly, judging by the smell.” A feminine voice said from the rafters. The Rangers looked around, attempting to find the origin. I already knew who it was, confirming it when I found the silhouette of a manticore’s tail swishing in the dim lamp wash of the Rangers.

Racer had parked herself in one of the seals of the crescent-shaped windows. Her tail swished absentmindedly as she reclined there, not bothering to look at the Rangers. “Now friends, what was that about an execution? Hurry up will you? I want to make Captain sooner than later, and all this bickering is ruining my beauty sleep.” She said through an acted yawn.

The paladin sized her up for a moment. “One pegasus trooper? Tell me, filly… What was your plan? Sweet talk us through doe eyes?”

Racer stifled a giggle. “Good idea, but my barn door swings the other way. Now your friend there on the other hoof… She’s kinda cute.”

The mare holding Treehugger blushed profusely and wrinkled up her face, no doubt torn on whether to be aggressive to her enemy, or to be embarrassed from the flirtatious advance.

“No…” Racer said after a moment. “I am just here to distract you while the rest of the lads get around you.”

Another armored form appeared on the balcony, the dim light around him being washed up by the glow of his amber visors. The twin MEWs, mounted to his battle-saddle, hummed with energy as he pointed them downward. Shady came up beside me, and drew his own sidearm, clutching it firmly in his mouth. Not much of a counter-threat to their armor, but it was better than me being a one-pegasus army.

“Really…” The paladin asked sarcastically. “Four whole ponies, one of which not even remotely armored or armed-”

“You forgot the angry mob of towns-ponies, outside.” Racer interjected. True to her word, a small group of guards and civilians sat outside, waiting to jump in if a fight broke out. A green Kirin barked orders at the group, telling them where to go and what to do. When he caught my gaze, he gave me an evil grin, then went back to micromanaging the impromptu militia.

The minigun Ranger shifted nervously to and fro, then asked for orders. The paladin pony fell silent for a moment, then huffed. “They have won this round. Very well, we shall leave. But mark my words, your act of aggression will be corrected, Mayor Memo.”

“Kiss mah’ ass, Bronze Sheet.” Memo spat.

The paladin, now identified as ‘Bronze Sheet’ snorted indignantly, but didn’t respond to her insult. “Return to base. Only fire if fired upon.” With a great clanking, the armored ponies made their way past us, and out into the dark night.

I watched them go, before Racer playfully punched my shoulder with a hoof. “A ‘thank you’ would be nice, Cap’.” She offered.

“How did you know?” I asked, still watching the forms of the Rangers march across the bridge.

“Eh.” she started, “When your Pipbuck tag went offline, I figured something was off. So, I got the gang together and watched the town as a precaution. Captain Skimmer was hesitant to launch S and R birds this late in the night, and with these weather conditions. This downpour makes the visibility zero.”

I then realized that my coat was matted and soaked, stained by viscous, luminescent green insect blood and mud. I hadn’t realized until now that we were standing in the middle of what felt like an eternal monsoon. I shuddered a tad due to the cold wind and rain, and the general state I looked. Was the wasteland changing me already?

“Well, when we saw those tin-heads marching into town, we knew it meant trouble. The good captain had doubts as to whether or not the deployment of troopers would dissuade or encourage the attack, so he decided to let it play out. You know us, if trouble comes calling, we would rather be in the thick of it than the sidelines. So, the boys and I ‘deployed ourselves’.” She said with a twitch of her helmet. From her inflection, I could tell she was grinning mischievously.

“So the captain didn’t authorize force deployment. Does he at least know now?” I deadpanned, annoyed at the fact they had gone under the captain’s hoof, even though it saved myself and probably a lot of residents’ lives.

“He is a smart buck, he probably figured it out when we left the hangar.” Came Racer’s reply.

My blood boiled. “Racer…” I growled. I rounded on her, placing my muzzle square in-front of her helmet. “The next time I leave home and he’s in charge, you follow his word like it’s my own! Got me, Lieutenant?” I accentuated the rank, reminding her who was in command here.

“Be Pleasant.” A voice in the back of my head told me. Not my own thoughts, but somepony else, more mare-sounding. I couldn’t place the voice, but it sounded… Familiar.

“Well, EXCUUUUUUSE me.” Racer said, then snapped a sarcastic salute. “Next time you want your ass creamed, Cap’, I’ll let them. Now, if you are done pulling the rank card, do YOU mind telling me why you blipped on us? I thought Cloud was going to pace himself through the deck. I swear, all that muscle, and he is just a big softy.” Racer exclaimed.

“Must have been when we entered the cave.” I explained. Racer gave me a faceless stare, one I could read all too well… “I took a job to buy the parts needed for repairs. When we went in, the cloud network connection cut for a minute. Must have lost positioning for us, and never reactivated. Well, the lovely mare neglected to tell us that the cave where we were told to harvest some honey held a giant ass, pissed off, bee and its extended family, who promptly zapped us and chased us out. As it did, we bumped into one of your new marefriends patrol.”

“Let me guess…” Racer said, sarcasm practically drooling. “Mr. Friendly bumbly-bee greased them.”

I nodded. “Chased us back to the cave where we all got zapped. I was out for a while.”

“Racer stood still for a moment. “Skies got zapped, too?” She asked in a tone that was not at all indicative of worry.

“Yup.”

Racer howled with laughter. Shady, who was sulking nearby, muttered “s’not funny” and began over to us.

“Lock it down.” I ordered, and the laughing died away. “Those assholes are definitely going to be back. And when they do, they will take it out in the town. Tomorrow morning, we need-”

Racer shushed me, and jerked her head towards a group of ponies walking our way. It didn’t take the loud arguing to know who they were or what they were arguing about.

“I told you this would happen, Mayor! Now those Steel assholes really have it in for us! Do you truly think you pandering-”

“Negotiat’in...”

“GAH! Whatever you want to package it as! YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME HANDLE IT!"

Memo walked towards us, leading a small group along behind her. Moss Light walked sideways beside her, though from her look, she was clearly trying her best to ignore his accusatory outbursts.

“Moss Ligh’. Do’me a favor’n shut yer’ mouth.” She coldly stated, before coming to a halt in front of us. “Ah’ hope y’all have’a righ’ good expanation as’tah why y’all pissed those fuckers off. Then, tha’ captain here’s gonna tell me how’tah’ fix this mess.”

“You can’t.” I asserted. “That paladin really thinks I killed his patrol. And they are going to be back, Memo, mark my words. The only diplomacy that is going to work now is gunboat diplomacy.”

She scowled. “Ah’ know you ain’t implyin’ that we take up arms against’em. Lik’ ah said before. If we decide we’gonna fight’em, they will bring’an army this way. You showed that yur’self when ya’ almost got tha' Grove sacked.”

Her accusation really plucked a feather. I tensed up and bared my teeth. “I saved… Your own Luna-damned son and his settlement… And I did it while disobeying the first rule of the Enclave. ‘The Enclave comes first’. What I did, Written Memo, is almost put myself and my team into early graves so that there was just a chance, A CHANCE, that Blackwood or Bullion could pull through with a defense.” I closed the gap, much to her startlement, and poked her with a wing.

“Be Pleasant…”The voice warned again, and I felt my anger drop.

“Tensions are high right now, I get it. But you going out on a limb and insinuating that I am intentionally trying to get every town we stop at sacked, is not the right move. Do you want me as your friend, or enemy?” I finished, an edge to my tone finer than any dagger.

She sniffed courtly. “A friend tah’ be sure. Ah’ apologize fur’ tha’ outburst.”

“That doesn’t make your stance any less shit…” Moss Light condemned. He rounded to the pack of creatures behind the mayor, and spoke up. “If tha’ mayor wants to bend the knee to those toaster fuckers, who would continue to be tyrants to us, then I won’t stand idly by and let the town I protect fall into that same appeasement.”

The crowd murmured amongst themselves. I knew where this was going immediately, and I began to intervene.

“Moss Light…” Memo’s voice drawled dangerously. Too late for me trying to de-escalate, I guess…

“No, Mayor. Not this time.” The Kirin retorted as he stomped a hoof. “Twice now in twenty-four hours, they have come to our homes with force, and tried to force themselves inside. They succeeded this time. What’s going to stop them from returning a third time, only that time, they will come in a blaze of laser fire and minigun rounds? Nothing! That’s what.”

“Mah’ job, ya fuckin’ idiot.” Memo spat. “‘N’less that head’ah yours forgot, Ah’m Mayor here. That means ah’ make tha’ decis’uns.” She snorted. “ ‘Nd if ‘ah say we talk, tah’em, we talk tah’em. What yur’ propos’in is ah’fight we can’t take.”

“TO HELL WITH THAT!” Moss Light roared. “They attacked our friends and family, invaded our homes multiple times, and killed Briar! MY OWN BROTHER!” Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he finished his tirade. Strangely enough, it looked like the kirin had begun smoldering as his anger boiled over. Little by little he had advanced on Mayor Memo, and it had reached the point that I had thought I would have to restrain him before he hurt her.

‘Not after Briar Light’

The words floated around in my head. This wasn’t self defense that Moss Light wanted. This was revenge. Cold, unyielding, revenge.

Iron Shard pushed his way through the crowd. “He has’ah’ point, Memo.” He solemnly commented as he drew near. “Now, Ahm’ not tryin’a go behind y’ur back, but they’re forcing our hooves here. The whole peaceful deescalation thing’s long past’us.”

Memo didn’t say anything in return. Instead, she worked her jaw and shifted her weight to and fro. I guess angry mothers act the same in every race.

I decided now was the time to butt into the conversation before Memo threw them out of town, or a lynch mob started. “Both of you calm down.” I ordered, spreading my wings out to push the two apart. “We’re all on the same side here, and I’d like to keep it that way. The Rangers want to see division here, it’ll just make it easier to roll up here and take over.”

The crowd murmured indistinctly again. Memo’s expression softened, and Moss Light wiped the tears from his eyes. “I didn’t kill their patrol.” I continued. “But I certainly had a small role in their death. Whether this makes up for it or not, I don’t really care. Those Rangers were in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and paid for it. Now, since the bug that actually killed them is now dead itself, I suppose it is only right for me to finish the job. My team is going to go up in those mountains tomorrow, and will not be back until this problem is solved.”

Written Memo clenched her jaw, which made me reiterate. “I will start with diplomacy,” I assured her. “No promises it will make any difference, but at least I can say I tried.”

She glanced around at the crowd, then sighed deep. “Fin’.” She admitted, and hung her head. “Ah’ hop’ to whatever diety ther’is that y’all don’t make this sit’i’ation wurse’.” She turned, leaving where she stood a quartette of muddy puddles. “ ‘Nd’ Thunder?” She added, halting as she made her way back to the town hall, “Be safe.”

I watched her go. Moss Light and Iron Shard quietly discussed something a few meters away, not that I could hear anything they said over the rain and thunder. Finally, they broke and faced me. “We agreed tah’ get’a team tah’ go with ya’. It’s not’righ’ tah’ send yall up tah’ deal with our problems.” The olive-colored unicorn finally said.

I nodded. “Only your best fighters. Everypony else stays here in case of a counter-attack.” I glanced back out beyond the walls and bridge, scanning the pitch black horizon for nothing in particular. “We head out at midday. I will see what I can do about support, but flying conditions have only deteriorated since we’ve been down here.”

Iron Shard grunted, and ushered Moss Light and the crowd off. Great… Another battle, and only two days into the wasteland. The icey realization hit me. This was do or die, and that meant one slip up from me could mean the death of every single creature in this town.

Blackwood shook his head as they went. “Ah’m commin’ with’ya,” he exhaled. He flicked an ear in thought, before adding, “ah’ think mom’s warmin’ up tah’ya.”

Squeezer laughed. “She definitely seemed less broody than normal.” Blackwood gave him a side eye, none too pleased at his joke. “Count me in, brother.

Anakvad nodded in solidarity.

“Thanks guys. I’ll be back tomorrow. Try and get some rest.” I spread my wings and rose off the ground, heading for the Eye. Her runways were lit up, making for an easy landing. As I ran along the runway, gradually slowing down, the hangar doors opened welcomingly to the warm, slightly bluish hangar lights. Cloud Skimmer stood by the bay doors, watching us. By his expression, I knew we were about to get an earful.

“Captain, welcome home.” He said in an interrogative tone. “Now, care to explain why you blipped for over six hours. And why your team-” He sweeped a forehoof across all of us, “decided to disobey orders and potentially turn a tense situation into a firefight…” He scrutinized each one of us in turn, waiting for any kind of answer.

And so, I gave him one. I relayed everything that happened from the time we stepped off the bridge, to the Rangers leaving. When I finally stopped, he grit his teeth and groaned. “Goddesses, what have I gotten myself into…” He muttered quietly. He took a wing and slid it over his mane, pushing it back and down, before continuing. “Alright, I will excuse it this time. But as much as I am your ride, you are my guides. We need each other, and this mutually beneficial relationship won’t pan out if you go gallivanting to an irradiated tartarus hole and get yourself killed. Make sure your pipbuck gets serviced.”

He turned to Racer and Cloud Buster. “As for you two, the same goes for you. If Thunder is gone, I am next in command. This may be your mission, but it’s my ship. Got me?” More stating it, than asking it.

“Yes sir.” Racer said unenthusiastically. Cloud Buster nodded, and added a “Understood, Captain.”

Cloud Skimmer scratched his mane with a wing, then lowered his authoritative tone for a softer one. “Alright then. Go get some rest. I’ll see what the weather’s like tomorrow, but no promises for air support or troop deployment. I only have a hoof-full of pegasi under me. And of those, only four are transport pilots. We are an escort ship, not a Raptor.”

He watched us make for the bulkhead door that would take us up to the crew deck, before sauntering over to two stallions, both of which by their uniforms I assumed to be the pilots who worked the night shift. One a pastel yellow color with a light blue mane, and another with a lime green coat and charcoal mane.

Shady chose to sit on the elevator floor as we rose, letting the water drip off his mane as he rested his head against the cage wall.

A part of me didn’t want to fall asleep, knowing that my dreams would be the same. That aside, I was still running on the previous night’s fitful sleep. Translation : not much, even for military service-pegasi standards. The cage rattled as it stopped, and I slid the door open to the cool deck. The overhead lights were dimmed slightly, but there was still enough light to see where you were going. I wished Racer and Cloud Buster ‘goodnight’, and silently slid my keycard into the slot, deactivating the door lock. The thought of a shower was enticing, especially after the day’s events, but I decided to just shed my soaked uniform and crawl into bed, making sure to lock the door to my sleeping cabin in preparation for the dreams I hoped would not come.

Eventually, they did come…

= = = * * * = = =

I gasped as I awoke. Trembling and covering in cold sweat, I shakily made my way out of the cabin and into the bathroom. I leaned on the metal sink for support, as I stared at my reflection.

I tried to forget the dream, the visions of being chased by a flash beast, having to dodge the bodies of creatures I recognized but couldn’t place names to. Fleshy monsters resembling Written Memo, Squeezer, Blackwood, and Moss Light joined in on the chase, their bodies growing vine-y tendrils and mushrooms that sloshed and slurped as they ran after me. Then came the couch… I knew what was on it even before it fully materialized out of the thick fog and rain. I didn’t even have to circle around it to see one of Storm’s legs, hanging off the back of it. That’s when I awoke.

My labored breathing must have been a bit too loud, as a knock sounded from the half-closed door.

“Cap’?” Shady said quietly. He pushed the door slightly more ajar, and peaked in. “Thunder?”

I gave him a side eye, and made for a cup that was quickly filled with water from the sink. I downed it, then filled it again. “I’m fine.” I assured Shady, still standing in the doorway with a worried look etched onto his face.

“I don’t think-” He began, but I stopped him with a wing.

“It’s not. Your. Place, Lieutenant.” I coldly admonished through gritted teeth.

He opened his mouth to interject, but let it hang for a moment before closing it. “Alright.” He said, throwing up both his wings in a ‘stop’ gesture. “If you want to talk, I’m here.” He concededly made his way back to his cabin, before his door clicked shut. I hung around the sink for a few more minutes, occasionally splashing water in my face but more or less staring at my reflection.

My fiery orange mane, usually shiny and combed, now was matted and mud caked. The bandage, once covering the wound on my left flank, had fallen off at some point, letting me see the large burn mark just above my cutie mark. Just a tad bit more down, and I would’ve now only had one.

The intercom clicked on, and the drawing notes of Reveille began to play. That told me what time it was, 6 a.m. I had only slept an hour and I could feel the exhaustion as I rubbed my eyes, so I just decided to sleep for a few more hours. Thankfully, the dreams I had were pleasant.

= = = * * * = = =

I rose at about 10 a.m., feeling at least recharged enough to get by. Not the best when you are about to potentially assault a Steel Rangers stronghold, but, one does with what he can.

I slowly let the door open. Shady’s door was ajar, and he was nowhere in sight, which meant he was probably in the mess. I wanted to apologize to him, but I was still upset with him pressing the issue over and over again. Whatever, focus on the here and now, and the here and now is the Steel Rangers issue.

I glanced out the porthole. To no pegasus’s surprise, it was dark and in the middle of a downpour. I took a moment to wonder if the surface was like this all the time, then cringed at the thought that we lived in the sun above the clouds, while others died in the dark below it.

Existential crises aside, I sluggishly moved to the near-empty mess. No Shady. Not even Racer, Weather, or Buster. Well… At least I won’t have to play therapy right now. I grabbed a tray and filled it with waffles.

I unceremoniously flopped the tray onto the nearest vacant metal table, and sat down. My head had begun throbbing at some point, most likely due to me only getting a fitful five hours rest. Whatever... I had worked on fewer in the past, so I just ate my breakfast in silence and rubbed my temple with a wing. By the time I was done, it was nearing 11 a.m. Just enough time to suit up and fly down. The problem itself didn’t lie in gathering my gear and double checking my armor’s BIOS, it lay in the worrying fact of being for the most part Shady-less this morning. He was not in the mess, nor was he in the cabin, so that left the entirety of the small warship’s corridors to search.

I groaned, and pulled up the Comms tab on my pipbuck, finding his code rather quickly and pinging him.

“Cap’?” His voice asked from the speaker.

“Meet me in the hangar. I am going to collect the others, and head that way.” I ordered as softly as I could. Hopefully, it would pave the way for an actual apology from me later.

“Already here with Racer, Cloud, and Weather.” Shady replied.

I narrowed my eyes. “Copy, coming down now.” I severed the connection. I didn’t want to imply that his attempts of starting a therapy club for my fucked dreams had grown, but the connotations were there. And I would rather not turn an Op into a feelings forum.

I shifted in my armor as the elevator took its sweet time descending. I guess I got hung up on something as I entered, because the gel layer had not formed perfectly to my contour, resulting in a pinched and restricted feeling. And if Pegasi hated anything as a whole, it was tight and restricting spaces. Call it a racial claustrophobia or what you may, our bodies just had to be free.

I stepped off the elevator after it halted, making my way down the corridor and into the hangar. Both hangar doors were wide open, and a general business was occuring in the hangar. The rain came down in thick sheets, worse than it had been since we started, and I could almost feel my mood souring as a result. I had hoped we could, at least, have the big guns ready if this plan went tits up.

Racer waved at me from across the hangar, motioning me to come over. She must have been out in the monsoon, as water dripped off her armor. She ran a gauntleted hoof over her short-cropped lilac mane, and shot me a toothy smile. “I think it’s raining, Cap’.” She sarcastically quipped.

I shot her an unamused gaze, then turned to face Shady. “What do we have?” I asked, already fearing the answer.

“Captain Skimmer says it’s a no-go for Vertibuck support. Too dangerous.” Shady reported, lacking just a bit of his signature tone.

I huffed. “Alright…” I muttered, “we need to get this show on the road anyways.” I pointed at him with a wing, “keep on Comms traffic, if things get hairy, Cloud Skimmer is going to need to either get those birds out of the hangar and risk the conditions, or complete a fire mission as we retreat.”

I pointed at Cloud Skimmer, “Cloud, I want you between Shady and I. Racer, you will bring up the rear. Doc’, once we secure our entryway, set up shop. I want an aid station as close as safely possible, casualties may be high. Objectives are as follows, protect the militia, and get the Rangers to leave. Any questions?”

“What kind of ordinance do you want me to use?” Cloud Buster asked, not at all attempting to conceal the excitement in his voice.

“Dawww.” Racer cooed, a grin on her face. “Is Cloudy excited to use the bottomless budget of the Enclavy-wavy to its fullest?”

Cloud Buster snorted, but didn’t return a comment. I looked around the hangar, trying to decide whether or not we should go heavy or light. Gusty would have his self-defense weapon. Racer, her magical plasma rifle (MPR). Shady with his IF5 and MPR. So that left Cloud Buster and I. Common sense told me that we would be up against heavily armed and armored ponies, with training and probably bots to boot, instead of the poorly-equipped slavers that had attacked Sugar Grove. That meant heavy firepower, but the presence of less armored ponies in the Rangers made me debate the use of heavy ordinance, citing it as overkill.

“Uhm…” I trailed off, still debating the question. “Go see if the quartermaster has a Gauss rifle. Bring extra cartridges if so, but I want you only using that if we get engaged with power armor units. Sling an MPR as well, and grab a pair of ‘casters for me.”

Cloud smiled wide and evilly, and made his way over to the bulkhead door that led to the elevator, on his way to deck two and the armory.

A few minutes of us planning passed, before he returned, laden down with the weapons and their ammo packs stowed in his armored saddlebags. I will even admit I got a bit giddy at the sight of the Gauss rifle, attached to a gimbal mount on his back.

The first time I had seen one was at my Special Warfare Center and School (SWCS). I had been sent as a result of me being accepted just after I graduated from the officers academy, and was placed into the mandated courses for an Intelligence Strike Team Operative (OSTO). In that roughly just over a year-long training regiment, I had been taught how to use various special weapon platforms just like the Gauss before me. The Gauss rifle was more or less a brick, with multiple halo’s arranged around the length of the barrel. These electromagnet coils propelled the two-millimeter ferromagnetic slug at speeds far greater than anything else, MEW or gunpowder. In layman’s terms, it is a coilgun, and would give the target a very bad day, if not outright wiping them from the face of Equestria.

The Gauss’s mounting rail, stabilized from one of his armor’s hard points, could extend and swivel up to, or down from, eye level allowing the user complete unfettered access to pose it however they felt. In addition to its poseability, the armor had an option to link its HUD so that the user did not even have to use the scope, rather seeing what the rifle was trained at and other data pertaining to using the rifle at extreme distances in the confines of the helmets screens.

This concludes Thundercloud geeking out over a rifle system.

“Got lucky.” Cloud Buster declared as he drew near. “Only one they had in stock. Quartermaster didn’t seem all too thrilled to be giving it up either.” He gleefully smiled after a few seconds of silence, before adding “is it the color you wanted, dear?”

I rolled my eyes. Cloud Buster seemed to take pride in the fact his tease elicited a reaction, snickering as he offloaded a pair of plasma casters from his back. Racer and Shady, being the tech experts of the team, hefted the weapons, with practiced precision, onto my back with their hooves. It took them a few minutes to bolt everything right, and connect the trigger wires to my helmet’s built-in trigger bit, but soon we were off.

The flight down was tense. It was only a distance of a kilometer or so from the airship to the ground, but it felt like several hundred kilometers. The rain, as per usual in this goddesses fucked wasteland, was falling with such force, the visability was limited. Add the general darkness of the cloud cover, and looming fog, it really sold the idea of “imminent death.”

A small group waited for us near the bridge’s gated entrance. Moss Light, wearing what looked like a form-fitting rubber suit, sat idly by as Iron Shard and the small group of around ten ponies stacked wooden crates onto a small cart. I ignored Racer and Cloud Buster snickering to themselves in the back, talking about how he looked like a gimp in that outfit, as I walked up to them.

As usual, I got all manner of goggling toward my armor. Opting to ignore it, I moved to catch Iron Shard as he returned with another box full of whatever.

“What’s all this?” I inquired.

“Morning tah’ you to…” He grumbled as he trundled past. I narrowed my eyes, and sped up to walk beside him, asking the question again.

He grunted as he shrugged the heavy crate off his back, cracking his neck after it hit the bed of the cart with a loud Whomp. “Supplies. I told’ja. Ammo, chems, whatever. Tak’in Rangers aint a walk’n tha’ park. Any luck with those flyin’ machines yall got?”

I shook my head. “Conditions are worsening by the day. Little to no possibility that we will even get evac birds.”

He groaned. “Damn these hills.” He cursed, as he hitched himself up. He stared at Moss Light for a moment, waiting for the oblivious stallion to stop playing with a small, multicolored cube, and focus up. After a few moments he yelled Moss’s name, jolting the kirin from his game.

“Wha’? Oh.” He said nothing more as he stashed the cube in a saddlebag, and rose to his hooves.

“Is that it…? Aren’t you, at least, going to pack a knife or pistol?” I questioned upon seeing his lack of ANY WEAPON, WHATSOEVER!. Goddesses, these grounders really plucked my feathers most of the time. You would think that living in an environment where even a little fucking bee could and would gore you to death would make somepony think about carrying at least a small weapon.

He smiled mischievously. “These hooves are classified as deadly weapons, my feathered friend.”

Iron Shard rolled his eyes and began pulling the cart across the bridge. Blackwood nodded as he passed me, followed by Squeezer. Anakvad started past me, but stopped before he crossed.

“Promise me something.” His heavily accented voice asked. “If I fall in battle, find my family. Tell them what happened.”

He turned to face me, wearing a look of sadness. I rested a hoof on his shoulder, and he flinched. Sighing, I removed it. “Sorry. Anakvad, you will be fine. Surviving the shit you went through shows that you are stronger than you appear. This…” I waved my wings in a wide arc. “This is nothing compared to what I have been through.”

But that was a lie. Griffons, although vicious in a fight, could not possibly match the Enclave, technology wise, in the border conflicts that marked the start of my military career. This was a whole ‘nother ballpark. Rangers had armor, bots, par or maybe even better weapons than ours. And all I had was a grounded corvette, and a small squad of ill-equipped militia ponies, and my friends.

The zebra smiled sadly. “Promise me. In the case you are wrong.”

“Alright…” I agreed in a soft tone after a few moments. “You have my word.”

He smiled again, and hesitated a moment, before embracing me. I hate hugs, as previously mentioned, but I decided to suffer through this one. At least for his sake…

After a moment, he stepped back. “Come. If you wish, I would love to be told of your fights with the griffons.”

And so, we walked. I declined the story telling, telling him that we needed to keep quiet and focused. He seemed to understand, but I could tell as the looming wreck grew closer, he grew more and more nervous. Truth was, I was boiling over with anxiety. Very nervous. Each snapping of twig, rustling of leaf, or stifled cough made me almost bite down on my trigger. It was exhausting, and I was already exhausted from the night.

The air grew thick and colder as we climbed the mountain pass. I began to take more notice of the scenery of pre-war Equestria as a way to take my mind off things. A rusted motorwagen here, a vine covered sign there. More and more, the swamp seemed to engulf the infrastructure and conceal any signs it was there to begin with. How could grounders live down here? I suppose they had no other choice, but this place was demented and sick. Neighvarro was no better, the once packed skyscrapers of the downtown metropolis now nothing more than empty husks. Ralneigh was better, but still nothing compared to Thunderhead. Even then, all pegasi cities were miles (figuratively and physically) above what Equestria was now. The wasteland, truely, was tainted; an infected wound that needed to be healed, before any progression could be made.

The Raptor grew larger and larger. Finally, the convoy stopped in a lush, overgrown grove, situated atop of a mountain overlooking the Raptor. Iron Shard unhitched himself, and waved me over with a hoof. Soundlessly, he pointed towards the crash, and offered me a pair of binoculars. I declined the offer, instead zooming in using my armors integrated magnifier.

From what I could see, the Raptor lay at an awkward angle, its hull position rising from the muck that engulfed the numerous decks below the hangar bay. I counted three in my first pass. Then five, then eleven, then twenty-five. More and more as I counted, I caught sight of new Rangers, both in power armor, and not, dotted about the wreckage. Powerful, occupied suits of T51, and maybe even a T60 model (though that one was up for debate as it disappeared as quickly as I saw it), patrolled the hull and uneven terrain around the raptor. Large scaffolding gantries gave way to huge gashes along the hull, whatever had brought this down, did so with force.

My heart sank as I recognized the crab-like carapace of a Sentinel robot. Not emblazoned with the Enclave logo, but by the cogwheel and sword emblem of the Rangers. Farther down the hull, I could see the hangar, packed with motor carriages in a makeshift motor pool that had been either brought by the Rangers, or stolen from Flatwoods.

“Fuuuc’ me.” Blackwood gasped as he low-crawled up next to me and accepted the binoculars. “Gotta’ be at least ah’ platoons’wurth’ of tha’ bastards.

Yeah… ‘Fuck me’ was right. This was a small army, just biding their time. And we had kicked the hornet’s nest. I continued to watch the stronghold, finding more and more Rangers as I passed over it. I decided to toggle my E.F.S., feeling like somepony kicked me in the gut as my armor’s HUD was filled with red marks.

“What’s the plan?” Moss Light asked as he crawled up on my unoccupied side.

I didn’t answer. The knot in my throat was too large to even begin to formulate a basic strategy. “Uhm…” I sputtered, but quieted down.

I flipped around and crawled back to our makeshift base camp, followed closely by Blackwood and Moss Light. I checked the time, 13:21, and scanned the forest canopy.

“Anypony got a mist cloak?” I asked the crowd.

A sky-blue earth mare, with a pale pink mane, shook her head. “Mahiri’s tha’ ‘nly one that has one.”

I heard Anakvad grumble incoherently at her name, as I cursed silently. “Stealthbuck?”

Again, no positive responses. Just the shaking of heads or some form of ‘no’.

I plopped down on my haunches, and pried my helmet off, pushing my bangs back with a muddy boot. No doubt, my stressful expression caused some apprehension in the camp, as some of the militia ponies shifted uneasily.

“What?” Cloud asked. He looked from pony to pony, searching for an answer. When none came, he repeated himself. “What?”

I shook my head. “I counted around thirty, just on the perimeter alone.”

Cloud Buster snorted and tossed his head. “Shit…” He exclaimed, before kicking a rock, flipping it over in the muck with a Plop.

“No way else we can get in there, either.” Squeezer interjected, lacking his usual nutty cheeriness. “I used to do appraisals before the salvage got shipped back to town. I know every entrance like the back of my hoof.”

“So, we knock some tin-heads together, and fight our way in.” Racer offered.

“Racer, think please,” I reprimanded. “If we head on that shit, we won’t even clear the treeline without getting killed or having the alarm raised.”

She huffed. I didn’t really care. Be mad all she wants, that is a suicide run. “Any other plans?” I asked the group.

The group murmured, but nopony stepped forward with an idea. Iron Shard flicked his ear, then got a strange look on his face.

“Ev’rypony down, now…” He hissed. I dropped into the mud, feeling it squelch under the weight of my armor. I couldn’t hear anything besides the roar of rain, thunder, and general swamp ecosystem, so I wondered what made him order us to lay low.

I booted my E.F.S. a second time. I surveyed as much as I could while lying prone in the muck, but it wasn’t a lot. No red marks, that was a good start at least. I shimmied around, and managed to get myself turned 180 degrees from my initial direction, finally finding a loan yellow mark deep in the woods. Not one of ours, but definitely not hostile.

“It’s yellow.” I reported.

“Wha’s that mean?” Iron Shard asked.

I rolled my eyes under my visor. “It means it’s not hostile. Racer, go check it out.” I ordered her, and encouraged it with a jerk of my head towards the direction of the signal.

She crouched low, but gradually left camp. After a few minutes, she normally walked back into the clearing, towing a flying metal orb behind her.

The orb kinda resembled a parasprite; A pest from pre-war that fed as much as it reproduced. I remember a report detailing how one parasprite managed to reproduce enough to take over Ponyville and Fillydelphia, only to be stopped by Ministry Mare Pinkie Pie and then-Princess Celestia. The nasty little cuss had a grill at the front, where a large grate sat fixed into its chassis. Under it, a pair of camera lenses sat, resembling large, beady eyes. Its semi-translucent wings beat rapidly, trying to get away from Racers’ manticore tail, woven into its front grate. Multiple small antennas, almost looking like legs, waved and vibrated at the forcible movement. I had seen these things before. Usually to spy on others, or deliver messages.

The Sprite-bot didn’t have any discernible markings, making identification hard. Nor was it actively broadcasting anything. I rose to my hooves, and cautiously walked over.

“Little shit was watching us. Tried to run when I saw it, but I am just too fast.” She said, braggartly. She pantomimed blowing her hoof, and wiping it on her breastplate.

“Enclave?” I asked, hoping the answer would come more from the bot than Racer.

She shrugged. “Don’t know. Too rusty and grimey to be really, but who knows how often service is done on recon units.” She flicked her tail rapidly, flinging the bot into the middle of camp with a sloshy bang. It struggled for a moment, but managed to levitate itself off the ground and upright. I half expected it to take off, but it just hung in the air with a near-indistinguishable hum of its wings and thrusters.

“Alright…” I sighed, “let me try something.” I moved closer, painfully aware of the small MEW barrel, mounted below the grating. Its thin antennae on the upper plating hummed, and it eerily reminded me of the Flash Beast. The eyes tracked me as I approached it, seemingly focusing solely on me.

“Nothing ventured…” I muttered as I squared up to it. “ Thundercloud, Captain, Enclave Intelligence Administration.”

The bot remained silent, only producing whirring and clicking noises, but not replying to my code.

“Well… Shit.” A little dejected, but worth a shot. I groaned in annoyance, and turned away. “Alright, if that bot was Ranger affiliated, they would be here by now. So that rules them out.”

I scanned the treeline, trying to pull any idea at all out of the ether. “Alright, alright, alright…” I repeated. “And this is just spitballing, but we could use a few grenades to cause a distraction. Lure a good chunk of them out so we can sneak in. It’s going to be a tight window, but it may work.”

“Cou’d wurk’.” Blackwood drawled. “Mig’t be a probl’m with tha’ timin’, but I’m sure we’c’n rig somethi’n up.”

Shady dug around in his saddlebag, producing another egg timer from its seemingly infinite space. “Here, my last one. Just like we did on the airship. Take a play out of our playbook, strip the wires in this and insert them into the cap. Set the timer, and run away. It should produce a spark large enough to detonate the grenade.”

I nodded in praise. “Alright, you guys organize yourself into teams of six. It won’t be easy, but you need to force yourselves into one of the entry points and keep fighting until you get deep into the structure. We will meet up somewhere inside and go from there.”

“How do we make’em leave?” A brightly colored magenta stallion asked from the back.

“Simple, really.” I started. “By now, the repair team is probably working on fixing the Storm’s propeller. When it’s done, we have a big ass bargaining stick.”

“Huh, ‘gunboat diplomacy’.” Moss Light spoke up with an impressed tone. “Thundercloud, you’re alright with me.” He praised, with a toothy grin.

I nodded, knowingly. “They can’t do jack shit against her unless they have hidden triple A batteries in those tin-flanks of theirs, so the sensible of their group would tuck tail and leave. We just have to worry about the nonsensical ones. A simple fire mission should remove that problem though.”

Squeezer cackled at that thought. “That would sure make’em run.”

Iron Shard nodded. “Ah’ll set tha’ nades’ uhp’. Caramel? You’n Strawberry Sorbet come with’me. Moss? Pick six of’em. Ah’ll take tha’ rest.”

Moss Light nodded, then pointed at six at random. The rest trot over to Iron Shard’s side.

“Take the hangar bay, and the energy cannon sponson platform accessible by the scaffolding. They are less guarded…”

Most of the group, including myself, pulled weapons and pointed them at the Sprite-bot. The thing had talked… Not a recorded message, but a legitimate bit of advice.

“And just how do you know that?” I asserted. I didn’t like the idea of a Sprite-bot suddenly becoming self aware.

“Take the advice, or not. I don’t really care about you, or your squad. I care about the innocents down in that town.” The voice retorted in its metallic synthesizer, strangely dripping in spite of the overall cutesy appearance of the robot.

Before I could argue back, the voice cut, and was replaced by March of the Parasprites as the robot drifted off, leisurely playing its tune. Gradually, the music grew softer and softer, until it was out of range.

I relaxed my jaw around the bit, and lowered my guard. “Alright…” I drew out, not really knowing what to do with the information just gathered. “We’ll take the bot’s advice. Moss Light, take your team through the hangar.”

“Ar’ we not gunna’ touch base on tha’ fact’that that bot was spy’in on’us long en’nuf tah’-”

I cut Blackwood off with a wave of my wing. “Not important right now. If it was Ranger-controlled, it would have called them to our position by now. That, or alerted them and tried to kill us, not tell us where to assault from.” I tried to assure him, but truth be told, I was not sure myself.

“Reckon so’.” He said with a shrug. He fished his rifle out of his sleeve, then took a long look at the wooden cart, stocked with all sorts of MilSurp gear.

“Take’ah’ battle-saddle if ya’ want, Blackwood. Got plenty of’em.” Iron Shard offered. Blackwood tipped his hat, and began sifting through the mound of gear, trying some on to find one that he liked.

I watched him finally settle on one made of dull red leather, with salvaged road signs bolted to the areas of his dominant shoulder, and chest. It took the combination of him, and Squeezer’s magic, to shuffle it on, but after a few minutes of struggling, managed to get it on and tightened. Adjusting her stock, Whisper slotted perfectly into the universal coupling with a satisfying click, and he smiled. “Nev’r used one’ah these befu’r.”

“Easy enou’f. Bite down on tha’ bit, ya’ fire. Kic’ tha’ leg that has tha’ chord ‘round it, ya’ reload.” Iron Shard explained.

Blackwood nodded, then filled his shoulders, trying to settle the armor more. “Kinda chaffs.”

Iron Shard rolled his eyes, “Try wearin’ it fur’ long shifts. Suck’it up.”

Squeezer cackled, and slapped Blackwood on his back. “Blackwood the guard. Regular soldier buck now. Get moving, recruit. Hup, two, three, four!”

“If you need us, contact me on my pipbuck.” I raised the device as an added measure, “we will try and support both groups as best as we can. My channel is an encrypted broadcast, input two-four, A, and you will be able to reach me.”

Moss Light and Iron Shard both produced an earpiece and radio box, small enough to fit in a shirt pocket, and input the code. Two pings from my earbloom, signalled that the pairing was successful.

“Let’s move out.” I gave the Enclave side of the group a head jerk, and took off. The rain stung as we flew low towards the looming wreck. Within five minutes of flying, I could make out the looming forms of armor-clad Rangers, and our insertion point. While the ground team took the… well, ground paths, serving in Raptor’s before had its perks. Most notably, knowing where the emergency exits and lifepod bays were. The problem lay in finding an empty pod bay where we could insert, and doing so without tipping off the guards. I keyed my radio, and quietly whispered, “Status?”

Iron Shard was first to speak. “Ready.” Moss Light echoed his response, and I cut comms. “Get ready…” I warned the pegasi behind me.

A group of explosions boomed nearby, and I could hear the shouts of the Rangers as they moved to investigate. E.F.S. Showed a decently sized group slowly get smaller, until they left the range. That left around fifteen red marks, dotted around the crash site. I cracked my neck, and rocketed forward. The empty pod bay grew larger and larger, finally reaching the diameter of a small motor wagon. I skidded to a halt inside the grimy bay.

Time and elements had not been kind to the aged cloudship. Those strange, red vines grew along the walls, and the general uncleanliness was very unsettling compared to the spick and span, well kept and maintained vessels I was used to.

I crept forward. Hopefully, the distraction would allow us to go unnoticed in the vast corridors. Behind me, Racer commented about the ship looking like “a dump”, and I shushed her. Despite the quiet rattling of rain on the derelict ship’s hull, it was silent as a tomb. Honestly? It did look like a tomb. None of the lights were on, and coupled the oppressiveness of the dark wasteland with this, made just five meters in front of my muzzle look like I was standing outside at night again. I flicked my headlamp on, watching as thick walls of dust were displaced as I cautiously moved deeper inside.

“Thundercloud to Weather.” I whispered into the mic, still listening intently for any signs that danger was close.

“Go for Weather.” Through his reply, I could hear gunfire and yelling. I winced at the thought of one of the groups, pinned down by the Rangers.

“Sitrep? What’s going on?” I had to know, despite me telling myself I shouldn’t.

“Wait one.” Weather answered. The mic didn’t cut, allowing me to hear somepony, a mare by the sound of it, alternating between screaming and cursing through the hot mic. “Hold… Still!” Weather ordered forcefully. Another scream from the mare followed. I laid my ears back, and turned the broadcast down. It sounded bad where he was.

“Engaged by three Rangers. We’ve taken some casualties.” I listened as a zip sounded through the mic, followed by “Fuck! I’m good, bullet’ went over my head. Listen, Cee-Oh, you need to get Skimmer on the horn, get us some support ASAP.”

Goddesses… “Anypony I know?” I hesitantly asked, hoping for the best.

“Negative.”

I let out a relieved sigh, knowing it might be in vain soon. “I’ll see what I can do. I am scrubbing the inital plan. Just try and force yourself into your breach. We are inside now, I think deck fifteen. Bridge is a deck down. I will update you as needed.”

“Solid copy. Be safe now.” Weather cut the comms, but not before the deadly symphony of magical laser fire was picked up.

“They can’t hold out long. Best way to get to the bridge is via maintenance corridors.” Shady commented.

I agreed, knowing all too well time was not on our side. I rounded a corner, and froze. My E.F.S. Pinged a small group of red dots, somewhere in the gloom ahead. I scrambled back, and cut my headlamp. “Red marks. Cloud, you and Racer on the far wall. Shady, with me on this wall. We advance cautiously until we know what they are.”

I could almost see Racers grin from behind her helmet. Raising her stinger tail, and feeding juice into her weapons, she silently flew past me and shimmied up next to the far wall. Cloud Buster humph’d, and got behind her. The crawl forward that came was near-unbearable. Every slight sound from the creaking of our armor, to the settling of the ship set me on edge. Couldn’t see anything but a very dim green and red glow of our M.E.W.’s, as their slight shine cast long shadows that played against the steel walls.

It wasn’t until I could audibly hear a rustling just ahead of us that I raised my wing and clenched the tip, signalling to stop. The marks were now larger, and I could very well tell that they were close by. By the direction my HUD gave me, they were inside a room on the far wall. The door was wide open, and from the low cast of the energy weapons, I could see a group of those giant cockroaches (Radroaches? Blackwood called them?) Skittering over a skeleton of a pegasus and the moldy paper-covered floors.

My breathing softened, and I began to relax. Not Rangers, a good sign. “Roaches. Nothing crucial to worry about.” I said low. “Let’s keep moving.”

“Aww. No fun.” Racer commented, but relented and kept moving.

Now that I knew roaches lived in here, as well, I had a pretty good feeling that even if we encountered a Ranger without being outright discovered, they may think we are a group of roaches. That also opened the doors for other horrors to live in here, though… I shuddered at the thought, but banished it from my mind.

Sounds of battle began echoing through the corridors, and it didn’t take a genius to put together that one team, at least, had entered the ship from their insert point. “Going to have to be quick.” I whispered to the silhouettes of my comrades, and pressed forward. Without the lights, it was near impossible to navigate. But it beat having the beam spotted by a random Ranger on their lunch break.

“Hold up, Cap’.” Shady quietly warned from somewhere in the gloom. “Maintenance corridor should be to your right, just a few meters ahead.”

I felt around, wincing and freezing everytime my my hoof clicked off every single greble on the goddesses-damned wall. I finally found purchase in the familiar indent of the latch, and pushed down. It was rusty, and made more noise than it should have, but finally moved after a few seconds of some elbow grease. The door parted with a teeth-clenching metallic scraping noise. Somepony had to have heard that, no doubt about it. But the hope was that the townsponies pushing into the ship would distract them away from us.

“You guys stay here, watch my back. I am going to scout ahead to the bridge. Shady? Get Cloud Skimmer and tell him to get moving. We dont have long.“ I called over my shoulder. The darkness was oppressive, but I could hear the shuffling of pegasi in power armor as they took up position around the door. Probably not a smart move to go alone, but I could move quieter if I was alone than in a small group.

Despite the cloud ship’s extensive damage, I managed to weasel my way into the maintenance corridor. It was a tight fit in my armor, and the warped and broken pipes and plating made it a challenge to navigate some areas, but I managed to make it to the path leading to the bridge. Halfway down the thin causeway, I began to hear voices up ahead. My light trot became a slow crawl at that instant, as I listened closely to the conversation.

“Nav box is gone, completely. Everything is corrupted or corroded all to Tartarus, Sir.” A voice said in a monotone, nasally, and downtrodden voice. He had a western accent, and almost sounded like he was sad.

“I didn’t ask about the status of it.” A gruff and patronizing voice replied. " I asked if you could fix it, Scribe...” I knew that voice… Brass Sheet…

The first voice hesitated for a moment. “Maybe, given time… And, it’s Journeyer Scribe, Paladin.”

I crouched low near the vent that carried the voices up. Peering down through the grate into the cavernous room, I could see the forms of, at least, three ponies; two earth ponies and a unicorn. They sat, situated around the once-bustling bridge. The bridge window was fully submerged in rock and mud, and glow sticks dimly illuminated the space in a variety of bright and colorful hues, giving everything a look right out of a fun house. Aside from the spick and spotless obvious silhouette of Brass Sheet’s armor, the earth pony and the unicorn wore a puffy, maroon-colored uniform, overlayed with a dark-gray combat vest that sported many pockets to the left and right of the wearer’s barrel. The shawls they wore, as well as the goggle-adorned field cap obscured their faces enough for me to get a good look at their features. Some kind of lesser class? Technicians, maybe?

Straining my hearing, I continued listening in on the conversation that had kept going while I was surveying the group.

“You know very well that the Elder entrusted me in this mission with command as well, Paladin. We are a team. You should really start treating me like an equal.” The first stallion, dressed in the maroon armor said as he turned in his stolen seat. He was thin, his fur looked disheveled and matted by the pouring rain, but still shone the color of cadmium. His mane and tail were light charcoal, with a stripe of blueish-gray running over his bangs. From under his barding, I made out his cutie-mark, depicting an ink bottle and feathered quill. The unicorn, colored off-white with a velvet mane and tail, turned in his seat to plug something into the aging and damaged console, but not before covertly rolling his eyes as the other two verbally sparred. Brass Sheet seemed to disregard his second-in-command, instead cocking his head slightly and remaining silent.

“A firefight has just begun in the hangar against some of the Flatwoods ponies, I will return shortly. You two will remain here and complete your mission.” He coldly stated, not seeming to care when the earth pony began protesting. He simply turned, and moved out of my sight.

I waited a few seconds as the rhythmic Clunk, Clunk, Clunk of their armored hoof-steps grew silent, before ceasing all together.

The stallion growled loudly, and pitched something against the wall. Defeatedly, he turned back to the device connected to the nav-box of the Raptor, and sat down next to it. The off-white unicorn side-eyed his comrade, before shaking his head and attempting to lighten his friend’s spirits with an accent that sounded like he had come from up north. Perhaps Manehattan? “Sketch, you know that the Paladin is a hard ass. Just lie low and make it through this one without pissing him off more than you probably have already. When we get back to base, go talk to the Elder about a transfer.”

Sketch grunted, but said nothing of note. In the brief moment that exchange happened, I seized the opportunity to remove the vent’s cover, silently, and slip into the room.

Some of the required reading during operative training was the Equestrian Covert Ops manual, which detailed how to effectively get the jump on enemy combatants. While these were not the racist caricatures of Zebra soldiers the book portrayed, they were still equine, and the same tactics applied. So, I crouched low, and slowly made my way up behind Sketch. I got a good purchase on the back of the command chair, and spun it hard to face me. He seemed confused, and a little annoyed at first, then finally comprehended that the armored stallion in front of him was not his superior. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at a holstered magical energy pistol. I made him think twice by loudly cycling my plasma-casters, and maneuvering my manticore tail to point towards the now alerted unicorn. “Don’t. Even. Think about it. Got me?” I growled from behind the vocoder in my helmet.

Sketch gulped, and nervously nodded. I slightly turned my head to look at his friend, who nodded as well. “Good... Now that we are on the same page, introductions are in order.”

“I-” Sketch’s voice caught and waivered, before he whimpered. “I am Journeyer Scribe Golden Sketch. " I nodded, then looked at the unicorn. “Field Scribe Red Velvet”

“Captain Thundercloud, Grand Pegasus Enclave. Now that we are properly introduced, you both are going to tell me what you’re really doing here. Then, you are going to march your happy flanks down to where your buddies are, and leave Flatwoods alone.

“And if we don’t?” Golden Sketch seemed to have mustered up some courage, and straightened slightly in his stolen seat.

I was not about to play ‘what if’ with two Rangers from the same group, currently shooting at my friends, or their friends. “I either call my ride to blast you to Tartarus, or I shoot you. Or, you can act smart, and leave with your life.” Three choices, one good ending. Seemed like a logical choice. I decided to press more, to gather as much intel as I could get before I decided to walk out into the open with two Rangers at plasma-caster point.

“What’s that do?” I nodded towards the object, connected to the maneframe terminal.

“Don’t touch it!” The unicorn, Red Velvet, pleaded. I raised my eyebrow under my helmet.

“Did I say I was touching it? I asked what it did, dumbass.” I deadpanned. He didn’t seem pleased at that…

He looked at Sketch expectantly, clearly wanting orders on how to proceed. I guess Journeyer Scribe was higher than Field Scribe, but all these kooky, made-up ranks gave me a headache… Why couldn’t they use logical titles like ‘Captain’, ‘Sergeant’, etc…

Sketch sighed. “It’s a dataspike.” He admitted. Didn’t really clarify what it did, or what they were looking for…

“Okay…” I prompted. “Keep going. What are you looking for?” I suspiciously probed. Something didn’t add up in all this. Tech reclamation was one thing, but sifting through a long-dead data server was strange.

Golden Sketch shrugged slightly. “Stuff…”

I really wanted to hurt him… Keeping my eyes on my new prisoners, I reached over and pinged Shady, who promptly answered. “Come to me. I’ve got some new friends here…”

“Coming your way.” Shady signed off. A few seconds later, Shady, Cloud, and Racer dropped through the vent I had taken. .

“Oh great…” Red Velvet sarcastically muttered. “There are more of you…”

Racer brushed the dust off her armor with a wing. “Makin’ friends, Cap’?”

“Always. Take these two over into the corner over there, so I can work in peace.” Racer gleefully chucked as she motioned for the two stallions to come closer. Out of the two, Red Velvet was the one who resisted the longest, needing Cloud Busters ‘encouragement’ of a not so gentle push to get him to move.

I crouched down. The dataspike was a standard model. A black cylinder with a silver plug at the end, nothing too complicated. A green light blinked above the power button, so I assumed that it meant it was done with whatever mining it was doing.

I ejected it, and rerouted the plug into my pipbuck. After running a security scan, and confirming it was clean of any malware, I opened the file cache. The files were mostly corrupt, but I managed to isolate the few that were unsavable. Surprisingly, one was the ship’s registry, the Raptor, Contrail.

Contrail… Contrail… I played with the word silently. That name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. “Shady? Does Raptor, Contrail sound familiar?” I asked aloud.

“Contrail? Not one I know, why?” He asked as he used his wings to wrap a length of a tape roll around Red Velvet and Golden Sketch’s hooves.

“Sounds familiar to me, and it’s the name of this ship.” I answered. I continued searching the files. Message from the Captain to the Equestrian Skyguard Command, interesting find, I’ll read that later.

Flight manifest? Perhaps. I opened and scanned the list. Nothing stood out, just standard provisions and manifest.

MAS Research Facility Delta Access Key…

The words made my heart skip a beat. I mashed the access button, only to find a partially corrupted log.

Raptor, C0$trail. Bri$% ##÷!@cts 015 and 016 to faci[Error:nulldataentry] .nd de$osit[errorcode:0xc000005]. Tr@nsm1t cod3 A, niner,[Error! Error! Data Corrupted. Contact local IT support, immediately.]

I reread the message again. That’s why Contrail sounded familiar… It was mentioned in the terminal back in Sugar Grove. This same Raptor participated in the capturing of windigo. To refresh my memory, I dug around my files until I found the log from Staff Sergeant Gleam, again.

SSGT Gleam, MoM Intelligence. 10/17. More sightings of windigo today near the Crystal Empire’s border. Raptor Contrail, Raptor Incus, and Frigate Typhoon were dispatched from Las Pegasus and made good timing. Incus was damaged by two windigo, but managed to kill three out of the five. The two remaining windigo were then captured using an MAS faraday cage from the Typhoon. All ships made it home and Incus is undergoing repair in the Las Pegasus shipyards. Frigate Typhoon deposited the windigo at MAS research facility delta. Report classified per MoM doctrine. Fifty-two casualties as a result. SSGT Gleam out.

“Huh…” Same ship. But why were the Rangers digging through it…

“What?” Shady asked, now admiring his tape work. I showed him the message, then the name of the ship.

“Wha-?” He stammered. “What is it doing here?”

I shrugged, then shifted my gaze to the restrained Rangers. “Sketch…” I called out. He flinched, but said nothing.

I crouched down beside him, showing him the message. “Want to tell me now why you are here, really?”

He noticeably swallowed, and shifted uncomfortably. “I won’t say.”

“I will give you your data spile back if you do. It doesn’t have to be a big issue. Just give us what we want, and you can walk out of here.” Silver tongue over here…

He shook his head. “Sketch, Golden. Journeyer Scribe. Appleachian Ranger division.”

Headstrong, isn’t he? “Alright… I’ll just sift through this spike till I find it, myself. Who knows? Maybe I will find out more. Even if it was wiped, I can still triangulate this devices location history to find your base of operat-”

“ALRIGHT, FINE!” He yelled. “You win, jerk…” He guiltily looked down, “the Elder sent us out here to look for tech, originally, but we discovered all this info about a research facility up north in the mountains. The black box was the last place we needed to search before we left.”

Red Velvet face hooved. “Sketch, you fucking moron.” Golden Sketch elbowed him in retaliation. “It was either this, or they level home. Which do you prefer?”

Red Velvet fumed, but said nothing. I nodded to Cloud Buster, who struck low with his stinger tail, severing the thick tape. Velvet shrieked, but realized he wasn’t struck, and gave a sheepish smile. Sketch rubbed his hooves as the tape took some fur with it. He gave me a suspicious look, but stood up. I fished the data spike out of my pipbuck, and presented it to him with a wing. “My end of the bargain.”

He looked perplexed, but cautiously took it in his mouth, stowing it in one of his tunics pockets. He cleared his throat, then began. “I half expected you to not keep your end of the deal…” He admitted.

“I told you, give us what we want, and you can walk. We aren’t done, yet. You are still threatening the town…” I told him, my tone portraying a hint of malice. Sometimes, it’s better to seem threatening, instead of bargaining.

“Ah…” He hesitated. “Brass Sheet is the leader in that regard. And I assume you heard the conversation before you unceremoniously dropped in?”

I nodded, and he groaned at that. “He won’t listen to reason, and definitely won’t listen to me; despite my rank and position of command. Look, Thundercloud. I do not trust you, nor do I like you. The same can, probably, be said from your compatriots and you. But I hope we can both agree that Brass Sheet is about to do something that will look bad on us.”

“To me…” I retorted, “the Rangers have a habit of fucking up everything in their path for a toaster oven…”

He sniffed, indignantly. “Be that view as it may, I’m afraid your attack here will set him over the edge, even though he was the one to cause it in the first place. Holding a town hostage just to wait for you to return to confront you about the murder of a patrol was an illogical step... Even for him.”

“I didn’t… Kill… Your… Ponies!” I sounded out, exasperated. “It was another horrific creature that I have seen since I came down three days ago…”

“He knows aa much.” Sketch pointed at the data spike in his pocket. “We were able to recover the combat recording of the fight. You just ran into them during your flight from the beast.”

I flapped my wings and threw my hooves up above my head. “THEN WHY DOES HE WANT TO BLAME ME!”

“Because it’s what he does…” Velvet spoke up from the corner. All throughout the conversation, he had made snide sounds or looked like he was about to kill Sketch, then himself. Now he looked more accepting of his situation. “Brass Sheet has a habit of overcompensating for something, and it’s not his armor… He is the Elder’s playbuck, his puppet, golden foal. Whatever you want to call his relationship, he is always trying to push others under the wagon to protect his own image. It’s. What. He. Does… He probably wanted to be seen as the avenger of a patrol, murdered by a vicious Enclave pegasi.”

I stared at the unicorn. All of this… Because he has small dick syndrome? What in Tartarus have I done to deserve this punishment, Luna? “Oh my fucking Goddesses…” I replied, very annoyed.

“You get used to it.” Golden Sketch said, a bit dejectedly. “Now, I hope you can change his mind. Because I see no alternative to you marching us out into the open and attempting to talk to him…”

Clever stallion…

That was exactly my plan. Red Velvet grumbled and complained as we moved through the corridors, occasionally mumbling “you and your big mouth, Sketch.” The ringing of small arms fire grew louder and louder, before we emerged into the hangar.

The scene unfolding was pure chaos, and I had a perfect perch on the suspended catwalk gantry we came out onto. Both of the militia groups had gotten themselves backed into a corner, and now were trapped behind a few motor wagons, a collapsed Vertibuck, and multiple cargo containers. I could see Doc’ rushing back and forth, tending to wounded ponies here and there. And the presence of piles of still-glowing ash and colorful bodies in worn and rugged gear meant that the losses were getting bad. Of the group, only a hoof-full remained, still fighting for their lives.

On the opposite side of the firefight, the Rangers fared no better. Somepony, probably Anakvad if I had to put some bits on it, had managed to activate the Vertibuck’s minigun, which roared and belched flame and death at any push the Rangers attempted. A few bodies lay on the floor, dealt in by the miniguns’ ferocity, so they knelt behind boxes, ducked and dodged through the various catwalks, or jetted from cover to cover, trying to avoid fire. It was a bloodbath, and both sides were losing…

A group of Rangers screamed out and fled as some of their cohorts were engulfed in a blaze of brilliant pink and red fire. They ran a few steps, but succumbed to the fire and fell. A flamer? Flamethrower? One of the militia ponies must have commandeered a Ranger’s fire weapon, and put it to good use. Another figure on fire stepped out behind the box, but it struck me as odd. This one seemed like it was already burnt, looking charred and blackened. What was stranger, it looked bothered by the inferno engulfing it.

“What the…” I started, but didn’t finish the thought as the figure roared and charged another group, their bullets pinging harmlessly off of the raging blaze. It wasn’t until I spotted the rubber suit that I realized who it was.

“Is that the gimp? Racer asked, trying hard not to snicker. I swatted at her, but she just lazily took flight and avoided it. “He’s got moves.”

It was. Moss Light, somehow not dead despite being literally on fire… Speculations ran through my head. Kirin spell? The suit?

“You brung a NIRIK?” Velvet called out, throwing his hooves up on his mane and pulling down.

“To be honest with you…” I started, “I didn’t know he could do that, either.” I was enamored at the path of destruction Moss Light was causing by himself, and I took back my words from earlier. His hooves were deadly weapons…

“It’s… a Kirin. They can all do that…” He yelled, seeming frightened by the sight more than I was. “What are those cloud heads teaching you up there? Get kirins mad, and they go fwoosh! It’s a thing they do!”

“Alright, smarty pants. Just because we didn’t know kirins can turn into flaming death machines, doesnt mean you have to… Shit…” Racer was quick to dodge as the first barrage of ruby-colored laser beams slammed into the bulkhead behind her. She slammed back-first into a group of crates and crouched. “Two of them, both in armor. I’m sure they are telling their friends where we are.”

Red Velvet took that opportunity to yell out, and attempt to escape. I struggled to grab him, but lost my grip on his uniform, watching him sprint down the catwalk. The Rangers, thankfully, didn’t gun him down as he pushed through them and began talking inaudibly to the pair. The lead Ranger nodded, then pressed his attack, firing indiscriminately with his laser gun.

Cloud Buster got a good purchase on Golden Sketch, who cursed loudly at the roughness. Though from the noise of the firefight, it sounded more like a whisper. Both Rangers were close now, deciding it was a safer move to stay far out of melee range. I had other ideas though than a bit of hoof-a-cuffs. The general state that the catwalk was in was horrid, and the decay definitely showed. Rust caked most of the grates, and the thin wires that held the walkway up were cracked and stiff. My only hope was that a well placed shot would be enough to sever the wires, and collapse the bridge.

“Cover me!” As quickly as I could call the order out over team comms, Racer and Shady suppressed the duo. The power armor took the brunt of the damage, and made them crouch low to try and escape the fire. It didn’t matter, that was only to make them sit in one place so I could get off a shot or two unchallenged. My plasma-castors roared as I bit hard. The first volley missed, the second didn’t, and I watched as the supports broke and dropped the section, including the Rangers, to the floor below. The fall wouldn’t kill them, but it got them out of the way so we could move on.

Red Velvet looked on in disbelief, before turning and galloping down the length of the catwalk. Racer tried to shoot him, but I pushed her barrel aside, claiming it” wasn’t worth it.”

“So… What now?” Shady asked. I had no idea. I was winging this plan more and more as it progressed.

I scanned the cavernous space, watching as the Rangers attempted another push. Their attack turned into a retreat as a trio of magically-thrown grenades sailed into their ranks, exploding and knocking the power armor-clad ponies away. I could almost hear Squeezer’s maniacal cackle at that fact.

I finally spotted the stallion of my target, adorned in his signature immaculate armor. Brass Sheet sat at the rear of the formation, letting a magical gatling laser go wild towards the militia lines. Already, a stupid plan had begun to form in my head.

“Goddesses…” I groaned out, “wait here. I’m about to do dumb shit.”

Shady didn’t get to ask what “dumb shit” was, before I vaulted over the railing and glided towards the floor. I landed hard on top of a pile of stacked mane-pullers, and rolled to a stop. Less than graceful landing, Thundercloud, but you have gotten this far. Operation: Dumb shit is underway.

A blaze of fire directed towards me made me dive down a level, and land inside an opened crate. I shook myself off, and thanked the Goddesses for the respite and bit of cover. I then thanked them even more when I found that my temporary shelter held a single crate labeled “grenades”.

What kind? Frag? Plasma? Spark? It didn’t matter, I greedily ripped open the lid like a foal on Hearth’s Warming… Only to find the box filled with smoke canisters…

“Yeah, screw you too.” I cursed loudly, hoping they would stop laughing long enough to hear me. Still, I removed the first five in their foam insert, and lifted the cover up to get more. The single grenade under it made my heart almost leap out of my chest. The unassuming dark gray cylinder had a single blue stripe around its midpoint, and the words “M49 Signaling Grenade - Strategic Bombardment pattern” written on it. It was only one, but it was enough.

I eagerly picked it up with a wing, and checked the seals. Everything was intact, as far as I could tell. Tossing it up and down as I slowly opened the rear door, I looked around for Brass Sheet, or one of his goons.

Luckily, I saw him before he saw me, which brought an evil smile to my lips. Alright… Time for some fun.

I slinked out of the crate and took flight. When I was just over him, I set loose a few shots which struck home in the mare in armor to his right. He didnt have time to register where it had came from before I landed in front of him, timed perfectly to just as he went to vent his guns. “Brass Sheet, we have some unfinished business to conclude…”

He took a step back, and tried to fire, but the venting cycle had not finished yet, which caused the gun to rev, but not open up. “Uh uh uh…” I teased as he began to advance on me. He halted, and cocked his head in confusion. I presented the grenade with a wing. “See this? You know what this does?”

“It rolls out of your cold, dead, wing when I kill you…” His voice maliciously answered. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wrong answer, but good try. This… Is a signal grenade. If I pull this pin, it calls the nearest cloudship to this area… To bomb it. Think you can evacuate the area before it gets here? They move very… Fast…” To accentuate my point, I looped a pinion around the pin, and pulled it taunt. One jerk, and it would be free, and he clearly understood that.

“What do you want…” He asked after a tense few moments, the battle around us sounded distant and non-important to the current moment.

“I want you to leave… I know why you are really here, and I intend to give you back your ward, Golden Sketch. But only if you agree to pack up and leave Flatwoods alone. Or, you can shoot me dead, and try to escape as the Storm closes in on you. It’s your choice…”

“Your airship is dead in the water. You are bluffing.” He accused, oh how wrong he was.

“No… This was all a distraction so it could be repaired. And in about a minute, will have homed in on my signal and park itself right above your little stallion-cave here.”

He remained silent, but by his body language, became very tense and anxious. “You are bluffing…” He accused again, this time with a bit of a voice crack and air of doubt.

“Am I?” I asked again. My words stuck a dagger in his ego, and I could tell they were getting to him now. It also helped that I had begun slowly pulling more and more of the pin out of its receptacle.

“You will die too. Your deaths will be assured just as mine will.” A vain attempt at bargaining. Truth be told, my bluff was working. No way was the Storm going to see a signal flare in this bad of weather and this dark. No chance in Tartarus. But he didn’t need to know that…

“Honestly? It would be a worthwhile trade. My life for all of yours, and the town would be rid of you. Face it… You have just been dealt a bad hand. Play it or fold, your choice.”

He remained silent for a few more minutes, before sighing loudly. His speaker cut, and the sounds of fighting abruptly ceased. “Well played, Captain. Very well then, celebrate your… Meaningless victory. This isn’t over yet, we will meet again…”

= = = * * * = = =

Over the course of twenty minutes, the Rangers worked fast to pack everything they could carry into the few motor wagons they brought with them. The air was tense between the two sides who had just a few minutes ago been trying to kill each other. Golden Sketch had been released from our custody, and I watched him from across the room as he and Red Velvet avoided Brass Sheet like the plague. Every so often, he would stop and look at me curiously, then resume whatever he was doing at that moment. A strange buck, that one.

The militia kept to their side of the hangar, and the Rangers to theirs, occasionally shooting murderous glances at each other, or calling out insults to the other side. My group, thankfully, was all together and still living. Doc’ Weather had a few cuts and a wound that bled through a bandage, but he was otherwise fine. I, on the other hoof, was exhausted, battered, and beaten, but I tried to look like I was doing fine. In truth, I found myself suddenly jerking awake when someone called out to me, or something was dropped. I was on edge, no. I was off the edge, but managing to keep myself from plummeting by one small twig growing off the side of the cliff. If another fight broke out at any point, I would be in big trouble. Adrenaline is a helluva drug, but I was fresh off its high and completely bone dry of it.

Apparently, I was swaying a bit too much in my periods of microsleep, as Shady tapped me on the shoulder. Naturally, I went high alert and assumed a combat stance, relaxing when I realized who had done it.

My pipbuck pinged as a private connection requested access, I already knew who it was and what he wanted, but I sucked it up and accepted it.

“Are you okay? You are swaying a lot. Go get patched up if you need it, Doc’ is not that busy right now.” Shady queried.

I shook my helmeted head. “I’m fine. How long until the tin-heads leave?” I said, turning and watching them.

“Should be soon-ish. I don’t know.” We remained silent for a while, just kind of watching and listening for any signs of trouble. “Cap’? Are you actually ok? Like, I can tell you’ve got something going on, but…”

I shook my head. “Shady. We had this talk last night. I am fine. If I want to talk about it, I will. But I am content with dealing with something meaningless as nightmares by myself.”

“Nightmares?” Shady pressed? Me and my big fucking mouth…

“Go see if Doc’ needs help.” When he didn’t move, I added “That’s an order.” He sauntered off, and I could tell by the way he looked back at me, this conversation piece was far from over. I needed something to take my mind off things, and keep me awake, so scanning the hangar, I found Bullion, Blackwood, Anakvad, and Moss Light (Thankfully not a raging fire monster anymore), standing idly by the stack of crates I found the smoke grenades in. I walked over to them, trying to seem put together and alert.

Blackwood nodded at me as I got close, to which I returned a strained nod. Goddesses, my neck hurt. “What’s the issue?” I asked.

“Nothing much. Just watchin’em’.” Moss Light answered, and flashed his toothy smile. “Like my little party trick? I told you my hooves were deadly weapons.”

“If ya’ call burnin’ everythi’n in’a fif’ty meter range, ah’ ‘party trick’.” Blackwood gumbled. Moss Light grinned wider at that.

“You know you liked it. It was pretty cool.” Moss Light teased.

“Moss Light, you said the same thing after you burned down the gazebo on your tenth birthday.” Squeezer chortled, which made Moss Light roll his eyes.

The group laughed, and I found myself chuckling along. The conversation carried on as I watched the Rangers gradually leave. I breathed a sigh of relief as they were swallowed by the dark forest. “Alright, I am sending an all clear to the Storm. A Vertibuck should be along to pick us up soon.”

Iron Shard, who had walked up at some point during the friendly banter, scratched his messy mane. “Leavin’ so soon?” He almost sounded disappointed at our imminent departure.

I shook my head in sympathy, “sorry. This was just a stop over. We have a pressing issue that we really need to take care of.”

The unicorn grunted. “Well, take’ care’of yur’self. Fur’ what’its worth, you’ve got mah’ thanks.” He stuck his hoof out, which I shook.

“Just doing my duty,” I dismissed. He tilted his hat towards me, bade my non-pegasi companions goodbye, and returned to the group of militia ponies at their far side barricade. Moss Light gradually drifted that way, which left us standing near the portal, waiting for the evac bird to arrive. Anakvad seemed a bit downcast at the prospect of leaving the minigun behind, he apparently had been the one using it and had seemed to enjoy himself a bit too much, but was otherwise ok. The roar of rain upon the crashed hull above added a melancholic mood to everything, and the fog that had thickened at some point added to the ambience. Despite my fatigue, I both wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a while, and not go to sleep due to what I knew was about to happen. I couldn’t fight sleep forever, but I dreaded the nightmares I was sure to have when I finally did pass out. The distant droning of rotors, and the kickup of rotorwash signalled the arrival of the transport, its bright searchlight illuminating the dark hangar space like someone had flipped on the lights. Of course a group of curious ponies maneuvered to get a better look at the functioning flying machine, even going so far as to compare the functioning one to the decrepit one. I nodded goodbye, and watched as the group loaded onto the transport. “Last stallion.” I called out as I clambered on, and slid the door shut. Firefly gave us his customary greeting as he maneuvered the props to lift off. I didn’t bother to respond, preferring to just stare off into space and think about nothing in particular. A warm bed called my name, I needed a shower for sure, but sleep came first. And so, I did.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading. Special thanks to my editors, Sharps, Moss Light, Xythis, and Miky for all the help that they give me; I appreciate it. And to my friends to have to sit through my hours long pony-filled rambling. And to my fellow FO:E writers and content creators, I saw thank you, and keep on weaving your tales. And finally, to you, my dear readers. I appreciate all of you taking time out of your day to listen to my story. I know it is rough in some places, but I am improving with each chapter. Until next time, Thundercloud out.