Fallout Equestria: The Indefatigable

October 23, 1007, Mission Day 13

The N-V Vertibuck soared through the air over the twinkling, blue ocean. IIts reflection, sallow and wrinkled upon on the ocean below, shone a bright white, matching the navy-coded vertibuck's paintjob. Long black streaks whipped across the waves as its rotors chopped up the sky, twin turboshaft engines roaring with highly pressurized jet fuel.

Its engines, set at a steep incline forward and keeping it moving along at a merry 310 kph, were slowly pulled back. In return, its bulbous plexiglass cockpit reared, light from the noonday sun reflecting sharply off of it. Inside, its pilot, an earth pony wearing an oxygen mask and radio helmet, spoke into her radio headset:

"HMS Indefatigable, this is Indigo Zulu Two Two Niner, approaching from course heading one-eight-two, carrying aboard Admiral Azure Bluette and orders from Command. Requesting permission to enter your controlled airspace."

In the distance, a giant form lumbered through the water. Its mammoth, 100,000 ton hull yielded not a single inch to the waves that crashed against her sides and bow. A massive white plume churned out behind it in one of the largest wakes any seacraft could produce in the world. She glistened like the crown atop the ocean's head. Upon her, a flare of light reflected off of the windows of its command bridge.

She was arrayed in all sorts of fanciful colors. Long, flowing banners were strung from her deck to the mast of her superstructure then back down again, in a triangular wreath surrounding a banner of Equestria. Below its national colors was the ensign of the Navy, the Eight-Armed-Sun arrayed over an anchor, set in a crimson red background. Sailing alongside the massive aircraft carrier, four missile destroyers escorted her. As the Vertibuck approached, each fired a flare in salute.

On the bridge, Captain Anchor Aweigh raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes, sighting the vertibuck on approach. Grabbing the visor of his cap with his magic and pulling it down over his salt and pepper mane, the old stallion looked to his left, "There's Her Majesty. Kept us waiting for long enough."

Commander Calm Seas ran an electric blue wingtip across her starched-solid dress collar, "Time to pipe her aboard, then?"

The Captain gave a short nod, lowering his binoculars and turning stiffly towards the boatswain, "Message to all hooves: Prepare to pipe aboard the Admiral."

A long, shrill whistle came over the ship's intercom as the Vertibuck circled overhead. A pegasus signaller took off from the flight deck as the controllers on the air bridge gave it instructions to land. With the mighty whine of hydraulics, the roaring engines of the Vertibuck turned to face fully upwards, slowing down as it entered VTOL. Two bright lights in the signaller's hooves carefully guided the vehicle to its landing zone, wind kicking up across the flight deck as the Vertibuck hovered into the space above it.

Hundreds of ponies crowded a respectful distance back from the landing zone, their rainbow of colors masked by a palette of navy blue overalls, white sailor's caps, and glistening officer's uniforms. Amongst them, a group of pegasi hovered over the heads of the other sailors, each wearing the dark grey fatigues of the Ministry of Awesome.

"All this pomp for a fuckin' Canterlot officer to come an' tell us what to do," a dark blue pegasus mare amongst them grunted.

"Hey Slushee," shouted a voice from across the group, coming from a yellow stallion with a bright green mane, "Fifty bits says she got a corn cob shoved so far up her ass that if ya tapped it, she'd cough it up."

"She's Canterlot, 'course she's stupid," Ice Slushee shook her head, "Go find someone who's a bigger idiot to extort for porno money."

"Wasn't she the one that was in command at Stripper Strait?" a brown stallion with a black mane in the midst of the flock looked around, raising an eyebrow.

In response, Ice Slushee looked back at the yellow stallion, giving him an I-told-you-so grin and gesturing with her eyes towards her other compatriot. Returning her grin, the stallion tapped the pegasus on the shoulder, asking, "Hey, Radio Whistle. Fifty bits says you're wrong."

Radio Whistle mulled it over for a moment, before nodding, "Yeah, you're on, Shot Stack."

"Fuck yeah!" Shot Stack pumped a hoof.

Marching through and cutting the crowd open, twenty power-armored ponies, the Ministry of Wartime Technology's logo on their chestplates, marched through. Each fall of their hooves resounded with a mechanical wheeze and a solid 'thunk' on the flight deck. The sun reflected off of their chrome-polished helmets as they approached.

"Here comes the cavalry," Ice Slushee spat as the Steel Rangers made their way past them, "How come they get to wear their power armor for this shit?"

One of the Rangers turned their head towards her, voice coming over the speakers, "Cause Marines get shit done, Corporal, unlike the Recons."

"What the hell does piping aboard the brass have to do with that, Gonkmare?" Shot Stack shouted from the back.

"Nothing you would understand. 'Sides, this is the flight deck. Should know you can't float around here," the Ranger spat back.

Ice Slushee crossed her forelegs, "You got a problem with that, should fly up here and stop me. Oh wait, you can't!"

A light grey mare with a firey red mane, who had been silent throughout the heckling, shook her head and said, "Stow it, Corporal Slush, Private Shot. He's right, get your asses on the ground."

Jeering on the Rangers the whole time, the squad landed, pushing their way into making a clearing amongst the groundbound sailors. Chuckling, the power armored ponies moved on, moving to form an honor guard in two rows by the landing Vertibuck. Following closely behind them strode the ship's captain, along with many of the officer corps.

Its landing gear opening, the Vertibuck finally touched down on the deck. With a long, wheezing sigh the engines began to throttle back fully and the rotors slowed from a feverish whine into a steady 'throp-throp-throp-throp', before dying off completely into a quiet murmur. The doors on the side of the craft began to slide open, prompting the boatswain to raise his pipe to his lips and blow, starting with a low note, before raising to a high note, and then moving back down to a low one.

Emerging from behind the doors was a light blue pegasus, featuring a dark blue mane and tail with a single, white stripe running through it. She held her head high as she walked towards the guard of honor, face straight and somber. She was wrapped in the uniform of an Admiral, complete with the gold epaulettes on her shoulders, and the pins of the sun and moon on her collar. Her left sleeve was tightly rolled up, a civilian PipBuck wrapped around it. Her cap, visor wreathed with gold leaf and the image of the Eight Armed Sun emblazoned on its front, gave a slight twinkle as the sun struck it mid-stride.

"Ship's company!" The boatswain bellowed, lowering his pipe, "Three cheers for Admiral Azure Bluette! Hip hip!"

The entire crowd shouted, "HUZZAH!"

"Hip hip!" the boatswain repeated.

"HUZZAH!"

"Hip hip!"

"HUZZAH!"

Each Ranger in the honor guard lowered their weapon, placing it by their side and saluting as the Admiral passed, keeping their chins as high as the mobility of their suits would allow.

Looking up towards the approaching Admiral, Captain Aweigh snapped a forehoof to his head, saying, "On behalf of the crew and officers; welcome aboard the Indefatigable, ma'am!"

Returning his salute, a smile spread across the admiral's face, "It's my honor, Captain. And I must say, you keep your ship and crew lively!"

There were quaint, forced laughs from a few of the nearby crew members. The Captain, lowering his hoof and mirroring her smile, gave a polite nod, "Thank you for the complement, Admiral. She is honored to be your Flagship, many of us have heard the stories of the Battle of Stripper Strait."

"I'm glad to hear your crew's enthusiastic to show the Stripes that Equestria still rules the waves," Bluette said, her grin growing wider. Turning a side-eye up towards the noonday, summer sun above, she pulled her visor down to shield her face, "While it's a great day for it, Captain, I must admit I'm not acclimatized much with the equatorial heat. I look forward to the air conditioned interior of the ship sooner, rather than later."

Anchors Aweigh nodded, "Of course. No reason to keep you waiting either way, Admiral," he looked towards the Boatswain, "Bosun. Announce to all hooves that dinner tonight will feature a celebratory meal of mushroom steak, fried broccoli, Sparkle-Cola, and ice cream for dessert in celebration of the Indefatigable's promotion to flagship."

"Aye aye!" the boatswain gave a short bow as the crew within earshot cheered.

Watching from the bridge, Commander Calm Seas hummed as the Admiral was led from the flight deck and the crowd dispersed. Around her, the bridge crew were arrayed at their stations. There were terminals for controlling the ship's rudder, engines, coordinating the defense grid, communications, RADAR, SONAR, close-in EFS threat discrimination sensors, and much more.

The ship's navigator, sitting at his station a few feet to her left, piped up, "You think we're gonna get any of the air cleared about this mission now that the flag's aboard?"

"You mean why we're chopping through the Luna Sea and not down south getting fucked by dragons?" the helmspony, a beige unicorn stallion answered.

"Yeah I mean what's the big deal? Big fancy ship, all this firepower, just going to some fuckoff atoll? The farthest place in the world we could be from the conflict?" the navigator shook his head, "Gotta be some sorta drill coming up."

Calm Seas turned away from the view and towards the two chatting officers, saying, "We are observing a megaspell test at the Sky Island Atoll."

"Yeah but-" the navigator's muzzle twitched, and he reached into his breast pocket for a cigarette box, "Why they need a Celestia-damn aircraft carrier for that?"

Calm Seas frowned as the navigator subconsciously began to take a cigarette from his box, "Take that shit outside after your watch, Lieutenant."

Realizing himself and packing away his box quickly, he apologized, "Sorry ma'am," a pause, before he added, "But seriously. You know anything you can tell us?"

"No," she shook her head, turning back to the window as the Captain and the Admiral entered the hatches leading into the ship's superstructure, "But there'll be a dinner for the Admiral tonight. Maybe she will elucidate us a bit more."

Deep down, fifteen decks below the surface of the ship, within an entanglement of long, winding corridors, was the ship's engineering decks. Grated steel covered the floor, where below cables and junctions ran, connecting every system on the ship back to its beating heart. A grapefruit orange unicorn mare trotted briskly down the halls, past sailors pulling carts laden with supplies and technicians running maintenance errands.

To her left, thick, reinforced windows looked into a huge, triple-decked compartment that ran from the ship's stern to her forecastle. Taking up the majority of the space within was a metal, orange tube, marked every twenty meters or so by a ring of bright blue gems. Going through the entire length of the ship, the orange tube almost seemed to be like its spine. Ponies inside the compartment wore full body hazard suits and carried clipboards as they analyzed blackened gems. Doing most of the actual work, three-armed Mr Gutsy robots fiddled with open panels, undid bolts, and soldered at damaged components.

Back in the ship's crew corridors, a sign hanging above the bulkhead ahead read 'LIFE SUPPORT', which the unicorn ducked through on autopilot. The journey down this corridor was one she had made many times before.

Orange and white tanks of gasses and liquids were mounted against walls, with pipes running between them and machinery carefully crammed in wherever it could fit. A set of airlocks to her left lead into the chamber where the tube lay. Warning signs plastered by the airlock doors cautioned about intense radiation, how protection along with a PipBuck should be worn at all times within.

A door squeaked open as a hazmat suited pony stepped through, hauling a cart filled with cases marked with radiation symbols on them. Recognizing him, the unicorn stopped, saying, "Hey! Eggs! How's it going?"

Reaching up and removing his helmet, taking strandfulls of long, messy mane with it, the stallion sighed, "Hey Sum. We just got done replacing the sixty-seventh emitter."

"So... five done and seven more to go?" she asked.

"Yep. It's fucking tedious and sweaty work too. Living in that suit all day is a real pain in the ass. It's nice that the Gutsies can do all the actual work, up until they can't figure out some stupid shit and I have to go over and babysit them," he sighed.

"Yeah well, good luck!" she wished, "Try not to get sterilized in there."

Pulling his helmet back on, the stallion gave a snort before continuing hauling his cart. Chuckling to herself, she continued on her way.

Water trickled through pipes to her left and right, coming down from four Water Talismans, creating water for both the crew's drinking and bathing needs and to fuel the steam turbines that ran the ship's engines.

Facilities passed her on the left and right, one belonging to the auxiliary oxygen generator, made to direct purified air through the ventilation system in the case of one of the chemical attacks the Zebras were famous for. She also passed the water heaters, air conditioning, and the firefighter stations. Various charging bays for the ship's robots were indented into the walls, along with the workshops and laboratories for those that maintained them.

Finally, ducking through another bulkhead, Summer climbed some stairs and entered a compartment labelled 'Grid Control'. A shelf of clipboards sat against the wall next to the entrance door, each one marked with a name. Reaching out with her magic, she grabbed a clipboard with the name 'Senior Technician Summer Fruit' written on a length of black tape on the bottom.

Humming to herself, she made her way to her station, writing the time of her arrival and flipping through the various tasks and reminders given to her for her watch. The control room was a room filled with giant floor-to-ceiling terminal banks and control panels that sat in ranks and files like bookshelves in a library. Several ponies tended to the various stations, many with the patch of the Ministry of Arcane Sciences sewn onto the shoulders of their uniforms.

Summer found her way to a station with the name 'Spark Harmonic Control' written above it. Another pony already sat in her seat, staring blankly at the monitors as a constant stream of information scrolled through the terminal screens sitting before him. Tapping him on his shoulder, she quickly whispered, "You're relieved."

"Thanks," the technician muttered, getting up and unplugging his PipBuck interface from the console.

Taking his place, Summer Fruit took out the cord from her military-pattern PipBuck, plugging it into the terminal and quickly logging in. Pursing her lips, she began to navigate the menus with the steady, staccato keystrokes. Just as she was beginning to embark on her first, routine task of the day, she herself was tapped on the shoulder.

Turning around, she was met with the face of the ship's head engineer, Ship Right, a safety orange earth pony with a yellow mane. She cleared her throat and stretched out a foreleg to lean on her console, saying, "Hey, Summer. Got a special task for you today, okay?"

"Uh huh?" Summer raised an eyebrow. At least she wasn't in trouble.

Taking out a stack of papers, clearly freshly printed from the Indefatigable's computer room, she placed it with a meaty thunk on the desk next to her controls, "I need you to program these shield harmonic values into the main array before they finish the repairs on the Sunrise. Once you're done just take it down to the computer guys."

Looking down at the phonebook-thick stack of papers, each page filled with long lines of mathematical values and emitter addresses, Summer frowned, "Like, change the whole smack?"

"Yeah it's something command wants done before we reach Skye Island. Something about it being friendlier for the MAS's recording equipment?" Ship Right shrugged, "How long do you think that'll take?"

Flipping through the pages of the printout, the smell of fresh printer ink filled the air as Summer's frown deepened, "Not gonna lie, ma'am, this is gonna take the rest of this watch and then probably the next one as well."

"I can get somepony to pick up your tasks if you just focus on getting this done," Ship Right nodded, patting the papers, "I trust you to know this shit."

"Huh..." Summer squinted at some of the values, "May I ask why we're changing the shield harmonics? You know reverting to standard isn't something that we can just quickly do if a Zebra squadron pulls up on us. Also, I thought we were at radio silence? Why we getting new orders now?"

"We're changing it now cause the projector's offline anyway, and it's better than risking changing it while it's up,. Besides from what I can see from the numbers they shouldn't affect the combat effectiveness that badly," Ship Right shrugged, "And those numbers and orders apparently came in with the Admiral."

Summer hummed, looking back to the printout and flipping through it some more, pursing her lips.

"Something the matter?" Ship Right asked, tapping the forehoof she had braced against the console impatiently.

"No ma'am. I'll get started right away," Summer said, turning back to her terminal and opening her logging program.

Nodding, the head engineer pulled away and walked back to her business elsewhere.

By far, one of the most busy and chaotic areas on the ship was the kitchen. Like a massive factory line, stainless steel counters were lined up side by side as a measly one hundred cooks worked to produce 4,000 meals for the day. Fryers steamed, ovens glowed, knives met chopping boards and shouts coordinated tasks. Mr Gutsies mopped spills and moved between counters, carrying finished food to the chafing dishes. Despite the best efforts of the mess staff to make the ship's kitchen as presentable as possible to the new flag officer coming aboard, rusty-colored stains still peeked out from where the counters met the walls and a thin film of grease covered most surfaces.

At one of the stations, a zebra stallion stood, apron covering his chest and hair net keeping his mane intact. Leaning over a chopping block, he fed an almost never-ending line of carrots into a knife, oscillated against the chopping board by his right forehoof. As soon as one was diced, he'd shove it off with his knife into a waiting tub, before moving on to the next carrot in the stack. Then, somepony would take the diced carrots for the vegetable broth and he'd set about another task.

A voice cut over the shouting and chaos of the kitchen, causing his ears to perk as the zebra looked away from his work in what had to be the first time in hours. Entering the kitchen floor, the head cook was followed by three ponies in unmistakeable white uniforms.

"ADMIRAL ON DECK!" the cook bellowed.

Immediately, the kitchen froze, each pony stepping back from their work and straightening up, those caught with tubs on their backs and boiling soup pots in their hooves standing and staring.

A blue pegasus pony, wearing a dress uniform with somehow even more gold adornment than the ship's Captain, stalked through the kitchen. She looked over the mess area, where finished food sat waiting for the lunchgoers to arrive. With a chuckle, the Admiral smiled, "If only every last pony in the armed forces could be as industrious as a ship's cook, the Stripes wouldn't stand a chance!"

"Aye, ma'am," the Captain nodded, "The only thing more important than the kitchen in my eyes is the power plant, and that's only because the stoves are electric powered."

The head cook leaned on a nearby counter, "Bah! If we got the power cut off, we would break the cafeteria furniture over a knee and start a fire to get dinner done on time!"

The statement was met with a laugh from the Admiral, followed by echoes of chortles from the gathered crew as the atmosphere detensified. Despite this, the zebra couldn't find the courage to laugh as well, still standing at attention with a knife in hoof and trying not to eye up the Admiral. As the laughter died down, an awkward silence hung in the air. He swore he felt the officer's eyes move onto him.

To his immense dread, the Admiral's voice boomed, aimed directly at him, "You there! With the stripes!"

He swallowed, turning to face the admiral as his heart began to race, "Yes ma'am!"

The Admiral's muzzle was drawn into a thin line, and she eyed him up and down carefully, "What's your name?"

"Ivory Heart, ma'am! Cook's mate," he barked in return.

"Ivory Heart?" the Admiral raised an eyebrow, "Not much of a zebra name, sir."

"No ma'am, I'm Equestrian through and through, ma'am!" he said, swallowing a lump in his throat as he felt beads of sweat form on his forehead.

"A true patriot, huh? You get up in the morning and pledge allegiance to Her Highness's image? Put your hoof over your heart in front of the flag? Stand for the anthem and sleep soundly on the souls of your flesh and blood?" the Admiral shouted, stepping forward.

Ivory looked up at her, before sucking in a deep breath and nodding firmly, "Yes ma'am!"

There was a momentary pause, as the admiral appraised him with narrowed, green eyes. Eventually, she reached out and slapped him on the left shoulder, "Good stallion! Don't slip poison into the food and we'll stay on speaking terms!"

"Thank you ma'am!" he responded, almost on instinct.

Turning away from him and back towards the Captain and the other officers, the Admiral waved a wing dismissively, "As you all were. Lunch waits for nopony, not even me!"

The bustle of the kitchen rose once again as work continued. The head cook's eyes lingered on Ivory for a moment, before he turned away to attend to his own business. After only a minute or so of continuing his work at his station, his eyes watered to the point where he nearly couldn't see and he had to excuse himself to the bathroom, where he collapsed into a cubicle, hyperventilating and sick to his stomach.

Walking through the berthing areas, the recreational lounges, a library, and a few commissaries for luxury goods, Admiral Azure Bluette and Captain Anchor Aweigh arrived at their final destination. Several cabins for the ship's commanding officers sat side by side, their doors having a much larger distance between them when compared to the individual berths for the crew and junior officers.

"And this is your apartment," the Captain introduced as he unlocked and opened the door, "Your luggage has already been moved in."

The apartment was hardly a luxury suite. A double bed, a kitchenette, writing desk with a personal terminal sitting on it, wardrobe, and a bathroom. All of it private and secluded. Hardly more than a studio apartment, but still a massive luxury compared to the quarters of others aboard the Indefatigable. Sitting in the center of the room was her luggage, a large steamer trunk and a suitcase.

"Your ship is in admirable state, Captain," Azure said, entering the room and turning around, "My compliments to you and yours. She has presented herself as more than worthy as a flagship!"

"You flatter me, Admiral," Anchor returned a genuine smile.

Taking off her cap, Azure stated, "I have had a rather long and arduous day. I'm just not made for those Vertibucks, I'm afraid. I am going to rest up in here for a while before the dinner tonight, which will be at eighteen hundred hours. I expect your officers there, as well as the commanders of the fleet."

"Of course," the Captain nodded, "I'll have that relayed. Have a good rest, Admiral."

With a nod, she watched as the Captain pulled her front door closed for her. Reaching forward, she slid shut the bolt on the door, before turning around and sighing, rubbing an eye as she relaxed for the first time since leaving Las Pegasus early that morning. Tossing her cap at a nearby rack and missing by several feet, she reached down to unbutton her overcoat. Taking it off and scratching at her neck, where her collar had dug into her skin and left red, irritated marks. Loosening her tie and unbuttoning her undershirt, she moved across the room towards the bed.

On her way over, she reached down and undid the buckles on her trunk, taking a single item sitting at the top of the possessions packed within: a holotape.

She leapt bodily into her bed, caring not for the impact on the mattress and the squeaking complaint of the bedframe. Crawling forward, she sighed and rolled over as she raised her PipBuck to her eyes. While many in the Equestrian military services counted the foreleg-mounted computer as part of their standard kit, this was the consumer version, sold for a high price for an individual unit or for a lower one alongside golden tickets to the Stables.

The PipBuck whirred as she turned a knob and clicked a few buttons, moving to its clock function and setting an alarm for forty-five minutes before six PM. It was enough time to get out of bed, shower, and put on her spare change of her dress uniform for the dinner.

After ensuring it was set, she took out the device's ear bloom and gently placed the holotape she had retrieved inside of the correct slot. After navigating to the newly inserted tape, the screen flickered to a less green-dominated, colorful video feed - a feature of the consumer grade version of the PipBuck as opposed to the standard military pattern.

A smile grew across her face as the tape began with a date - taken just a few days ago, October 15th 1077. A hoof-held camera panned around the image of a warm, suburban kitchen. Looking up into the camera with big, green eyes was a small pegasus filly.

"Say happy birthday to Mommy!" a male voice said from behind the camera.

"Hawwpy birfday Mommy..." the filly said, staring up at something that wasn't quite the lens of the camcorder.

The camera panned up to see the lounge, where a colt sat on a couch looking towards a television, where a cartoon cowpony was barely visible through the distortions provided by the video camera. The same voice from behind the camera said, "Hey! Cookie Comb! We're wishing Mommy a happy birthday!"

The colt turned around, peeking over the back of the couch and waving, "Happy birthday Mom!"

The sound of little hooves scampering off somewhere came from off-screen as the camera was turned around, showing a smiling dark grey pegasus stallion, "Come home safe soon, okay hon? Rose Tickle was really broken up you missed her song last week, but she knows it's really getting heated out there. I included that song. I know it's not regulation or whatever, but could you try and get a message back to us with something for her? I love you so much! Happy birthday, honey!"

A tear welled up in Azure's eye as she pursed her lips, looking away from the screen for one moment as the video cut to dead space. Eventually, it flickered back in to a stationary, mounted view of a stage. Rose Tickle stood in a spotlight in front of a microphone.

"Forget your troubles, come on get happy," her shrill, little voice wavered through the speakers and the static.

"You'd better chase all your troubles away,"
"Shout hallelujah, come on get happy,"
"Get ready for a brand new day..."

Fallout: Equestria - Indefatigable