Prologue: Project Clarity
Project Clarity... The final dream of a dying nation. Sounds noble, right? Well, nobility can't feed a pony or put clothes on their back. Towards the end, so many stopped to reflect, to think. And in the end, Project Clarity remained a dream, a poorly-organised jumble of ideas that had the potential to save millions of lives.
In the end, nobody realises the true value of the smallest ideas until they're stuck without them. 'Princess' Luna was more than happy to rely on conventional war-making, building vast armies of ponies, machines and mutants. It's funny, in a dark way, reflecting on how so many lives were dedicated to fighting a war they never even saw. A mortar shell hitting a barracks, a rogue tank shell blasting a medical squad apart, a balefire bomb annihilating a city full of civilians.
You might ask why, trying to comprehend the choices made aeons ago. The truth is that nobody will ever understand those fools. Those arrogant, selfish souls that drove a prosperous nation into the apocalypse over a poorly-planned economy. So, inevitably, when things went shooty between us and the zebras, the corporations gladly expanded the weapons industry. Ponies who had once practised with spears were now killing mercilessly with machines of death.
Now, I may be coming across as a grouchy old bastard. You might be thinking 'Who in the hay is this old coffin-dodger?'. Well, I'm one of the few that truly understand the goals Project Clarity set out to achieve. Y'see, the higher-ups never truly understood the importance of communication. I'm talking long-distance lightning-fast conversation here. Relying on the SPP? That'd never work out. When the manure hit the fan, the entire emergency broadcast network was flooded, resulting in the deaths of millions of innocent ponies. Shame Luna had just brushed Clarity aside.
So, you actually want to know more about Clarity? She was the brainchild of Dr. Xxxxxx, an extremely gifted scientist working with the 'Space Base' team. Yeah, I know our archive sucks, but we have no actual information regarding the launch facility. All we know is that towards the end of the war, space was the best chance for survival in the minds of many ponies. They sent up rocket after rocket, trying to determine if the moon was inhabitable. Some plans were made for colonisation but were never fulfilled.
Brr, it's chilly here. Hang on just a second while I go fetch a jacket.
Ok, I'm back! Where was I? Oh yes... Project Clarity. No good ever came of the first few rockets. Sure, there was a boost to morale, but a bloody expensive one nonetheless. Then we had an idea. I use the term 'we' to describe the descendants of the Crystal Mountain Satellite Array. Yup, you heard me. Clarity was about satellites. Just imagine, pony-made technology whizzing around above us, firing off millions of commands a second to keep themselves aloft.
The brainiacs responsible for the Equestrian Space Program didn't take long to realise the sheer potential of being able to put things into orbit. With some largely useless government funding, they set to work building the very first satellite. Several months of work slowly began to take shape, culminating in a techno-magical sphere capable of recieving commands and sending them back to us.
They are beautiful. We have one here, locked away in the Vaults. Perfectly smooth, built for cruising through space without an effort. Anyway, back to the story. Once the eggheads had the first few satellites in orbit, they soon outgrew the meagre processing power based at the 'Space Base'. From what we could tell, the majority of the base was designed to handle a single rocket flight, not holding several pony-sized objects in geosynchronous orbit.
What could they do? The launch site was under almost constant assault from the zebras and they certainly couldn't build a satellite command centre near any centres of population. The Crystal Mountains were perfect, however. Dozens of changeling hives were hollowed and turned into today's Orbit Command. The Relay Dishes were flown up by specially-trained pegasi sworn to secrecy. Now, I've never seen a pegasus so I'm guessing it would have taken a lot.
And so Crystal Mountain Relay Station was born. Three dishes aimed skyward, firing command after command into space. But here's the best bit. They still work. The zebras never learnt about our little hideaway, so our ancestors dutifully kept the machines aloft, waiting. We still don't know their full capabilities. However, we had a nice little stash of satellite phones. Yup, you heard me. We had the means to communicate wherever we were in the Wasteland, not that we got out much.
No, to us the preservation of the Relays meant everything. We had in our hooves the tools to save the Wasteland, but there were still those who wanted to loot our home. Sure, maybe some were innocent traders or were desperate for company. Didn't stop us wiping them out. If they got their hooves on our technology... well, it won't turn out well for anyone.
So, that's Project Clarity in a nutshell. A revolutionary communications system that was virtually un-counterable, undetectable and unstoppable. Don't get me wrong, we've been plagued with problems. Ammunition ran out in the first few weeks of holding the base. So many refugees tried to reach our complex that the guards ran out of ammo. Since then, we've been trained in makeshift warfare. All of us can create at last one makeshift weapon using common items. A bloody useful skill, that.
My personal favourite? Explosives. Going back to the ol' communications problem, the facility received a shipment of thousands of mortar rounds shortly before the balefire holocaust. Yup, we bloody good with our mortars. Let me take a second to list down our defences... Wait. Snowflake always ordered me to keep silent about our defences. I guess I ought to keep that promise, even after all this time. I will tell you this, however. We were pretty nifty with our skill shots. When the refugees realised we had run out of defences, they swamped the access road.
Whatever buckhead designed the access road was pretty lucky. The road falls between two avalanche paths. All we had to do was drop a shell in the right place and bam. Instant defence. Still worked on modern-day scavs and traders. Then they got smart, trying to get access through the use of makeshift dirigibles.
Perma Frost took care of them pretty quickly. Her sighting skills are nigh on legendary in our little community. She dropped a 40mm incendiary round right through the gasbags. I kid you not, we were showered in flaming debris. Those bastards were certainly loaded for bear.
Well, I'm going to have to switch location again soon, so I'll leave you with this. When somepony asks if you like ice cream, keep your goddamn mouth shut.
Footnote: Level up!
Perfect Clarity: Over the many years you have spent in the CMRS, you have gained an intimate knowledge of all pre-war communications equipment.
