An infallible plan

“Your turn,” Gradient’s raspy voice said after she carefully set the pistol down on the table in front of me.

I looked down at the strange metal contraption, not entirely sure of what to do with it. Gradient had taught me the steps over and over all morning, but I couldn’t help but be nervous at the prospect.

“C- can’t I just use my horn?” I squeaked, looking up at the older filly.

Gradient looked down at me and gave me a kind smile. Her multicolored hair fell over her eyes as it tended to do, forcing the young pony to blow it aside.

“Not yet, Light, you need to get used to aiming and to the recoil before you can use it with your magic properly,” She explained. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt to know what to do if anything happens to your horn,”

I took in a shocked breath.

“S- something could happen to my h-horn?” I asked with a shaky voice as I dropped to my haunches. My forehooves shot upwards to cover it, as if expecting an attack...

“You never know for sure,” Gradient said, chuckling at my distress. “But for now, you need to do this,” She added, gesturing at the gun.

I swallowed and tentatively took a step closer to the table. On it lay an empty pistol with a full magazine resting upright beside it.

“Like I told you, pick it up,” Gradient guided me.

I shakily took the angled pistol grip into my mouth.

“Magazine,” She continued.

The gun in my mouth slid over the magazine on the table, slowly inserting it into the weapon. I gave it a slight tap on the bottom with the table like I had seen Gradient do before.

“Now pull the slide back, aim, and bite,” The mare finished.

I raised a shaky forehoof and pulled the slide back, feeling it slam back into place. The weapon’s sights rested just under my right eye, a series of small metal pieces that were shaking about as hard as I was. The muscles in my jaw were starting to ache from me holding them as still as I could.

“Take a deep breath and keep it steady,” Gradient said, putting her forehoof on my shoulder.

My eyes focused on the glowing blue target in front of me, sitting a third of the way down the range. My nostrils flared as I tried my best to follow Gradient’s advice and breathe.

Come on, Black Light, you have to do this! I thought, trying to steel myself. But what if it hurts? This thing could rip my teeth out! How would I eat then? My mind answered, breaking down any nerve I could’ve built.

“You’re running out of time,” Gradient warned, her voice taking on a sterner tone.

I took another shaky breath through my nose and shook my head slightly. If they thought I couldn’t deal with it then they wouldn’t have added me to target practice, I thought, gaining just a little more determination.

The sights steadied ever so slightly.

Do it, hold the thing steady and take the shot.

My neck muscles ached from holding the position for so long. I relaxed them slightly, watching as the pistol got even steadier. I could actually aim it now! The sights aligned with the center of the target in front of me.

And I fired.

Even through my earplugs, the gun was loud, but the sound was nothing compared to the sensation. The gun fired, sending a shockwave through my mouth, down my neck, and into my chest, where it all but set me ablaze. My heart, which had already been beating against my ribs like a drum, seemed to double its pace, thundering like a cannon.

Sweet Celestia… I get it.

“There you go!” Gradient exclaimed. “Go again!”

And so I did, every shot sending those electrifying shockwaves down my spine. By the fourth shot, I could keep the pistol perfectly steady, sending round after round into the target. Of course, I didn’t hit it dead center, but it was pretty close.

Sadly, my ammunition ran out, and I had to carefully place the firearm back on the table. Gradient gave me a grin and opened her mouth to speak.

“You did pretty go-“

“Can I do it again?” I asked, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Gradient raised an eyebrow and looked down at the pistol on the table.

“Yeah, sure,” She said, chuckling.

My eyes fluttered open, revealing the dimly lit ceiling of the power station. I turned my head to the side and saw the vague silhouette of Pot resting in his bedroll. Judging by the soft snoring coming from the stallion, he was still asleep. A soft breeze made my right ear twitch, drawing my attention towards the power station door.

It appeared I had damaged it enough to have it hang slightly loose. And my impeccable lockpicking had left a hoof-sized hole on the side of the door where sunlight was bleeding into the building.

I dragged myself out of my sleeping bag and rolled it up, attaching it to the side of my saddlebag. Temperance’s revolver flew out of its holster and lined up in front of me.

“Bang,” I said, shooting an imaginary foe.

Curiously, I floated the gun up to my mouth and bit onto the grip, giving it a feel. It was a little bit too big for me to hold comfortably, but even then it was an exceptionally comfortable gun to hold. My chest warmed up slightly at the thought of how the recoil must feel going down my neck and into my body.

The sounds of shuffling fabric brought my attention to Pot, who had started to toss around in his sleeping bag. The stallion’s foreleg kicked out weakly under the silvery cover.

Is he dreaming? I wondered, looking at the stallion’s grimacing face.

Before I could make a move, the stallion jerked upright. His green eyes opened wide as his took in a choked breath. His left leg shot up to hold his stump as he winced.

“Pot! Are you okay?” I exclaimed, shocked at his sudden outburst.

The stallion’s ears perked up towards me.

“Yeah, yeah… just a bad dream- What the…?” He said, clutching his stump. “Where’s my leg?”

I watched as he frantically patted down his sleeping roll before letting out a relieved sigh and pulling out the missing prosthetic.

“I loosened it up a bit to sleep, it must’ve slid off,” He explained.

“Maybe you should take it off to sleep,” I offered.

The stallion furrowed his brow for a moment.

“Yeah, I guess I could,” He said, crawling out of the bedroll.

We packed our stuff and got ready to set out for the Trotterton reservoir, despite the earth pony’s insistence, I made sure to be the one carrying most of the weight. Pot complained about not being allowed to carry his own supplies in case we were forced to split up, but he eventually relented and agreed that he shouldn’t add more weight to his wounded leg. He walked over to the remains of the wolf, dragging it outside and setting it down next to the door when we left.

“We’re not taking that?” I asked, looking at the carcass.

“No, but that’s just the scraps, I cut the last pieces of meat off earlier this morning,” He explained, glancing back at the cooking pot that was hanging off the side of my saddlebags.

“Wait, you woke up early? Why didn’t you wake me up?” I asked curiously.

“It was still pitch black out here, I didn’t want to bother you,” He answered, “Must’ve been super early in the morning too, I couldn’t sleep,”

I stared at the stallion with concern. His tired green eyes focused on me and he brushed me off with his forehoof.

“I’m fine, we need to get going while we still have sunlight,” He stated, stretching his back and rising to his hooves.

I gave him a nod and said nothing further, there would be time for talking while we walked.

We set out towards the Trotterton reservoir, following the pointer that Doctor Tourniquet had given me. It became quickly apparent that we were heading directly into the city. Ghostly silhouettes of skyscrapers could be made out in the fog bank that obscured them. They were like black columns that held up the sky, monoliths that still bore vestiges of magnificence from a long-gone time.

For the time being, however, we were approaching the suburbs once more. The areas we had been in before must’ve been the very furthest outskirts of town, as could be clearly gleaned by the increased presence of commercial buildings. A parade of fast food restaurants, bit-stores, and clothes outlets. The stores had been so thoroughly looted that the only way to even tell what they had once been was to read the faded names on the front.

“Huh, why do all the stores have that symbol on them?” I wondered.

“Hmm?” Pot asked, looking at me.

“That,” I answered pointing with a forehoof at the stylized double Fs that were emblazoned onto the storefronts. “It’s the same one that was on those memory orbs at the power station,”

“Oh, that’s the FlimFlam industries logo,” The blue stallion explained, “Easiest way to know when to avoid something,”

“Why’s that?” I wondered.

“Because their stuff is garbage. Food cans are rotten, guns and tools break constantly, you can’t even use their clothes as bandages because it's all plastic,” Pot answered, “Most of the time the stuff you pick up here isn’t even worth the effort of carrying it with you,”

I considered what Pot had said. By all means it made no sense, were the ponies who lived here before the megaspells just so fabulously wealthy that they decided to use disposable clothes and tools? No, that couldn’t be it, the houses around me looked rough at the very least, and downright deplorable at worst. While many were nothing more than piles of rubble and twisted metal roofs, nothing about them gave any indication that the houses had been of anything resembling good quality, even in their hayday.

One of the things Pot had listed stood out to me, however, focusing my thoughts on it instead of the world around me.

“They made guns?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Aye,” Pot said, stopping for a moment and offering me his leg-holster. “Take a look,”

I eyed the wooden grip curiously before wrapping it in my magic. The weapon floated out of its holster and came to a stop in front of my eyes.

“What the fuck,” I said.

The gun was… atrocious. A mess of parts that didn’t fit together properly attached to a crudely made wooden grip. My magic tentatively reached around the gun, carefully searching for moving parts. Much to my dismay, every part of the gun was a moving part, as evidenced by how the inner workings of the abominable contraption rattled within my crimson glow.

“Aww, it’s not that bad,” Pot said, taking the gun from my magic and replacing it in his holster.

“It really is,” I answered, wincing at the mere memory of the weapon. “I have to find you a better gun,”

Pot snorted before replying.

“Yeah right, as if good guns just sprouted out of the ground. Good luck with that,” He said, chuckling.

“That’s the second time somepony has said that good weapons are hard to find! Can’t any of you just say why?” I demanded, stomping the ground.

The stallion’s jovial tone disappeared after my outburst, with him taking a step to the side to put some distance between us. He cleared his throat before answering, keeping his voice calm.

“Okay, so these FlimFlam ponies? I don’t really know what they did, but whatever it was it drove basically every other company out of Baltimare. If you find a good weapon… or a good anything for that matter, you’re probably looking at something that somepony brought from outside.”

“Huh… but why?” I demanded, “It makes no sense!”

“I don’t know, nopony does, whatever happened here before the megaspells is just… gone,” Pot answered, gazing out toward the horizon. “Sure, if you ever leave Baltimare you might be able to piece things back together somewhat. But here? You’re not getting anything other than disappointment out of these ruins,”

I grunted in frustration, kicking at the floor. Why couldn’t I just… know stuff from before the war? Throughout my years in the stable, I had always wondered what the surface was like, but even more than that I had always wondered what things were like before the war. The thought that I might not be able to find it was… terrible, to say the least.

Pot suddenly stopped in his tracks, pulling his prosthetic leg off the ground and wincing.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“My right forehoof… itches?” The stallion said, staring down at his leg.

I looked at the prosthetic for a few seconds, furrowing my brow.

“But you… don’t have a right forehoof anymore?” I said, keeping my eyes focused on the blue stallion’s fake leg.

“No, I meant like…” Pot started, but he shook his head and sat on the floor. “Never mind. My leg hurts, okay?” He added.

“Ohhh, I see,” I answered. “Do you want me to carry you?”

Pot glared at me with an unamused expression.

“Why are you so opposed to the idea? It's not like I can’t deal with it!” I exclaimed.

“It’s not that! I just… I don’t know!” Pot answered, wincing as he took another step forward. Just the slightest hint of red on his cheeks.

Okay, that’s enough.

“I can tell that you’re hurting, I’ll carry you until you feel better,” I stated, stomping on the ground.

“I already told you I don’t-”

“I wasn’t asking,” I said, cutting his protest off. “Come here,” I added, wrapping the stallion in my magic.

“Put me down you fucking hornhead!” He shouted as I spun him around slightly to align him with my back better.

“Just stay still!” I shouted back, finally setting the blue earth pony down across my spine with his legs hanging off to either side of me.

“Hmph! Fine! But only a little while!” Pot relented.

To be perfectly honest, the stallion was heavy, and having to carry all our equipment on top of that was almost too much. Almost. I kept pushing forward. Sure, I was barely able to maintain a walking pace, but it was better than the painful crawl from before.

Sweat poured from my brow as I marched through the wastes. The sun was cooking me alive, and being completely covered in saddlebags and Pot was not helping it one bit. The stallion, for his part, had remained adamant in staying as attentive as possible to our surroundings, but eventually he had slumped over me and wrapped his foreleg around my neck. He’s probably exhausted, poor thing. I thought, trying to take my own mind off just how good it would be to follow his example and drop onto the floor to sleep.

I walked through the destroyed streets, keeping my gaze low to avoid distractions. Every so often I would hear my PipBuck start to click ominously, but I couldn’t stop to check it without collapsing from the weight on my back. We may need some of that rad stuff later, I thought.

“I need to get some RadAway,” I said aloud, knowing that I would probably forget by the time we reached a settlement.

My PipBuck’s task detector picked up my words and wrote it out on my EFS. Pot shook slightly on my back, my voice had probably woken him up.

“What was that?” He asked groggily.

“Nothing, just making a note for later,” I explained.

The stallion said nothing, he simply went right back to sleep.

I walked for what felt like hours, the small houses and piles of rubble around me slowly fused together into an indistinguishable brown mess that eventually spread out into an open area. The sudden change in scenery made me look around curiously, realizing that I had come to a plaza of sorts that was populated entirely by ruined coffee shops and derelict food trucks. Dead trees crowned each corner of the star-shaped opening in the urban landscape.

I wonder what this must’ve looked like before the war… probably green and lovely, ideal to just run around and have a good time. I thought, looking at the blackened benches that were perfectly positioned under the trees to catch their shade. As my eyes passed over the scene, I suddenly realized that there were two blue bars approaching from the left side of the plaza. That can’t be good.

My eyes darted around for a hiding spot. I was way too tired to fight anything right now, my best hope would be to catch my breath quickly enough. Perfect! I thought when I spotted a half-melted food truck on the side of the plaza. With any luck, they would just be a pair of wild animals.

I threw myself into the open rear door of the improvised hiding spot, falling onto the floor in a heap of saddlebags and pony. Pot gasped as the sleep was knocked out of him, but I quickly covered his mouth with a hoof.

“There’s something heading this way, stay quiet,” I whispered to him.

The food truck had been picked clean by this point, but the bar itself would conceal us well enough. The large opening on the side where a barista may have once served customers became my makeshift barricade as I peeked out into the plaza. The bars had drawn closer, but they were still not in sight. They’re still the same distance apart, I doubt they’re animals.

“They could be ponies,” I whispered to Pot. “Get your gun ready, just in case,”

I watched as the stallion unholstered his pistol before peeking slowly over the counter to look at the plaza. The two bars pointed at the very corner of one of the ruined buildings. Fighting against my impulses, I lowered my head. I was burning to see who or what was approaching, but my pale white coat and light brown mane would definitely not blend into the gray of the smoothie stand.

While my eyes couldn’t satiate my curiosity, my ears were doing their best attempt. In the distance, I could pick up the sounds of metal clanging against the street. Either heavy boots, or…

“I think they’re steel rangers,” I whispered to Pot.

Immediately after I said that, the stallion went pale.

“We’re dead…” He muttered after his gun fell from his mouth.

“What? No we’re not!” I answered, trying to calm him down.

“They know we’re here, Black Light!” He exclaimed back to me, his voice getting dangerously loud.

“No they-” I said, but then it hit me.

‘The MWT-45 power armor allows the brave soldier to see their enemies through walls, nothing can hide from a steel ranger!’ I recalled from one of the magazines that I had read in the stable. From what I could gather, that could only mean that they had some form of X-Ray vision! Which means…

Indeed, the two bars were completely still, and the steel-clad hoofsteps were getting closer. The noise stopped just a short distance away from the truck. My heart seized when I heard a series of clicking noises. The rangers were readying their weapons.

“Wait!” I shouted. “We’re not bandits!”

“That’s exactly what a bandit would say!” The garbled voice of one of the steel rangers responded. “Give me one good reason to not blast your sorry flanks into the clouds,”

“I am a friend!” I offered.

Booming laughter came from the other side of the counter.

“That was a good one…” The ranger said. “Splash two bandits,” They added.

“Wait wait wait! I know Scribe Tourniquet!” I shouted, hoping silently that they would hear me before shooting. Either that, or confuse them enough to think of a proper way to take them out without getting both myself and Pot killed in the process.

But how? No matter how hard I thought about it, I just couldn’t think of anything I could do. Maybe if I had the proper weaponry with me… but an empty gun and Pot’s abominable firearm? There wasn’t much I could hope to do.

Silence befell the plaza. The only sound I could hear was Pot’s panicked breathing and the thundering of my heart. It wasn’t the good kind of thundering either, the one where my veins would fill with life at the prospect of a fight, it was beating out of fear at the odds stacked in front of me.

“Tourniquet?” One of the rangers asked.

“Yes! Unicorn stallion, wears a monocle!” I shouted back.

More silence, but they hadn’t started shooting at us yet, so it couldn’t be that bad… right?

“Walk out of the truck. If we see a gun, you’re dead,” The armored pony said.

Pot gulped loudly, but he dropped the pistol onto the floor. I holstered Temperance’s revolver, having no intention of leaving it in the truck. We got up slowly and looked out into the plaza.

Two steel rangers stood side by side in front of us like towering masses of steel. The one on the right drew my attention right away with the bright orange stars that had been painted all over its armor. MWT-51, I realized when I took account of the slit visor on the helmet and the chestpiece’s rounded profile. A three-barreled Gatling gun hung off their right side, with an impressively sized ammunition box on the opposite side as a counterweight. Trying my best to ignore the weapon, I looked over to the other ranger. This one was in a standard suit of MWT-45, with no paint or flair, letting me admire the armor and the heavy combat shotguns on its sides properly.

However, the sight of the rangers did not fill me with the usual sense of wonder, definitely caused by the knowledge that they fully intended to kill us. Instead, I was filled with a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, punctuated by ghostly visages of myself and Pot being gunned down. My windpipe felt as if it were being crushed by a vice, forcing me to strain every muscle in my chest to pry my lungs open and fill them with air. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t take my eyes off their weapons for too long before being reeled back to their muzzles, waiting for them to light up at any second.

I had nothing, I was exposed, had no ammunition, and had no spells in my arsenal that could take even one of them out. Wouldn’t help that I was standing right in front of them, the second my horn lit up I would get blasted into thin paste. This… might be it… I realized as a cold chill ran down my spine, filling my blood with ice crystals and leaving my heart aching as it desperately tried to move it around my body.

“How do you know Tourniquet?” The ranger on the right, the one with the stars, asked me.

“I met him at the MareStar Medical center,” I responded, desperately trying to keep my voice from breaking, “He is the one who sent me here,”

The rangers stood quietly for a moment. I could hear muted mumbling coming from inside those glassy-eyed helmets, but not a single word came from either armored pony. My mind raced to remember what Tourniquet had said to me, dragging the stallion’s words out from my memory.

“I uhh… excélsior!” I shouted, finally recalling what the code word was. “That’s the password!”

My words seemed to have an immediate effect on the rangers, with the one covered in orange stars taking a small step back and the other one relaxing their posture slightly.

“That is the password…” The orange-starred ranger boomed. “Where is your escort?”

My mouth opened to ask what they meant, but Pot interrupted me before I could make a sound.

“I’m her escort,” He stated, puffing out his chest slightly. I looked at him in confusion, but he shot me a warning glance.

Both steel rangers stared at him for several seconds before the unpainted one spoke.

“You? You don’t even look like you could handle her in a fight, let alone anypony that wanted to attack her!”

This conversation was going bad way too quickly, I had to do something to gain their trust, at least for a moment. My lack of an escort was clearly what was concerning them, I needed to find a way for them to believe that I didn’t need one… Either that, or tell them that I had one but lost it, that would probably be easier to believe.

So all I had to do was… lie?

No, lying is an evil pony thing! I thought, But maybe if I tell the truth in a certain way…

“There were six of us, we lost five members near Junkyard,” I explained. Clearly it wasn’t an ideal excuse, but maybe a little bit of lyi- misdirection would be enough.

“There were reports of a big shootout going down around that area, sir,” The ranger on the left commented, turning to look at who I assumed to be their star-covered superior.

“All the more reason why it makes no sense to send us a VIP with just a hooffull of mercs instead of a proper knight escort,” The pony with the orange stars stated.

“I don’t question my orders,” I said, stomping on the ground, I was feeling slightly reinvigorated at having convinced one of the two rangers. It’s not lying if the statement is true, right?

The rangers considered me for a moment. Had they believed me? Or would they just shoot me on the spot?

“Very well, I think I know why you were sent here… but just in case, there’s one thing I need you to do,” The ranger with the stars said, pointing a steel-clad hoof at my PipBuck. “Turn that thing’s light on,”

“Uhhh sure?” I said, sitting on my haunches and flipping through the device’s options for a bit.

In the light of the day, the pale green lamp didn’t really glow in any significant way. But the bulb itself did change from dark to bright.

“Hmm,” The armored pony said. “You will accompany us on our current mission, and we will escort you to headquarters when it has been completed,” They added.

“Sir, shouldn’t we call for another patrol? Or send them to headquarters alone?” Said the undecorated ranger.

“Time is of the essence for our mission, and there is no safer place around this area than our immediate vicinity,” The other one replied. “We will complete the mission while escorting them, and that is final. Understood?” He demanded.

“Sir, yes sir!” Replied their subordinate.

The star-covered ranger gestured for Pot to follow before turning around and starting on their way down the ruined street. The stallion in question took a moment to jump back into the truck and pick up his pistol before leaning in to whisper at me.

“You’re completely insane, why did you lie to them?”

“I just told the truth, none of that was a lie,” I whispered back, winking at him.

Pot stared at me, completely bewildered. Perhaps some day he’ll be able to understand me, but until then, he’d be wise to just follow my lead.

With one ranger on either side of me and Pot, we made our way through the ruined suburbs of Baltimare. Our steel-clad guardians continuously scanned the buildings around us, staying alert. This was strange to me, I had expected this to be their territory, why were they so on edge?

“What are your names?” I asked the rangers, trying to cut the veil of tension that surrounded us.

“I am Knight Branch, and this is Paladin Klondike,” The undecorated ranger answered. “What about you?”

Knights and Paladins… Guess that must be their hierarchy. I thought, remembering how the Knight had referred to the Paladin as ‘sir’.

“I’m Black Light, and his name is Pot,” I said, pointing to both myself and at the blue stallion.

“Hah, well I hope you help us reveal what we need!” Branch said, chuckling slightly. The modulation on their voice made what could have sounded like a friendly quip turn into something almost threatening.

I gave a nervous laugh in response to the… joke?

“So, I was wondering, where did you get one of those things?” The knight asked me, pointing at my PipBuck. They had pulled back slightly to walk closer to me.

“Oh! From my stable!” I answered, the ranger’s more relaxed words were slowly making my nervousness simmer down.

“Branch, eyes forward,” Klondike said. “You can read her report once we get to the base.”

“Yes, sir,” The ranger said, stepping away from me.

The silence of the streets were only filled with the echoing sounds of the steel ranger’s hooves clanging against the cracked street. I took the time to get a good look at their armor. Branch was the closest one to me, and I took my sweet time tracing every plate, every delicately measured articulation, and even the built-in battle saddle. It was truly a beautiful piece of equipment, I could only imagine the euphoria that I would get if I were piloting it. I did have to wonder just who the pony inside it was. The armor was clearly modeled after a stallion, but there was no way to know for certain whether the pony within was a mare or not.

I couldn’t help but notice that the armor was pretty silent, or at least Branch’s was. Klondike’s armor seemed to be letting out a constant whirring noise, like a ceiling fan, where the only noises coming from Branch’s was the creaking of joints and sliding sound of hydraulics beneath the plates. I recalled reading about how the MWT-51 had an on-board life support system, but I wasn’t expecting it to be as loud as it was. Then again, the thunderous, booming hoofsteps didn’t leave much room for stealth.

After some time, Paladin Klondike stopped in his tracks, raising a forehoof to bring the entire group to a halt. He stood in silence for a moment, lowering his armored hoof. Both rangers looked at eachother, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t hear anything other than muffled mumbling coming from within those helmets. The silence dragged on for an uncomfortably long time, but eventually Klondike turned to me and Pot.

“You two will remain here next to me, is that clear?” He asked.

Pot and I nodded in unison. I had to wonder about just what the ranger was planning.

“Good, go ahead, Branch,” Klondike said.

“Sir, yes sir!” The other ranger responded, cocking her shotguns.

Branch started further down the street, turning the corner and staring at a large, horseshoe-shaped building that sat in fron of them. A hotel, I realized, and I also realized that there were several bars on my EFS pointing directly at it.

“I am Knight Cinnamon Branch of the Steel Rangers,” The armored pony bellowed. “Identify yourselves!” They added, striking a battle stance.

A hailstorm of gunfire erupted out of the hotel room as half a dozen windows flew open to reveal armed ponies. Several rounds ricocheted off Branch’s armor before the ranger returned fire, blasting two of the assailants out of the windows with their twin shotguns.I watched as the rest of the attackers withdrew into the building.

“Get back here you cowards!” Branch shouted at the hotel.

A magical flash drew my attention to one of the windows, where I spotted a bottle wrapped in blue telekinesis. A lit rag poked out of it, making it obvious that it was some kind of firebomb.

“Branch! Look out!” I shouted.

My concern was quickly proven to be unnecessary, however, as the bottle flew at through the air and shattered on impact, sending shards of glass and lit fuel in every direction. Beanch straightened themselves out and stared at the hotel building, completely unbothered by the flames that were engulfing their entire front half. The ranger threw their armored head back and let out a booming laugh before bolting for the hotel door. How a pony hidden under that much steel could move with any level of agility was beyond me, the ministry of technology truly was as magical as any of the others.

The door exploded in a rain of splinters, clearly there had been some kind of gun set up as a trap behind it, but whatever it was it didn’t do anything other than ricochet off Branch’s helmet. The armored pony looked around for a moment before launching off to the side, out of view from the door.

Klondike, for his part, spread his legs out slightly. The gatling gun on his side started spinning, but after a moment, it let out a mechanical clicking sound as the barrels locked in place, he then very carefully angled his body and started to fire into the walls of the hotel, one shot at a time.

His aim was impeccable, snuffing out the blue bars on my EFS like they were measly flies. For a moment I was concerned about him accidentally shooting Branch, but I doubted their power armor would take too much damage from a single round in the back, let alone anything lethal. The reasoning for why the rangers had split up was not obvious to me, Branch was armed with shorter weapons that made it easier to maneuver indoors, whereas the massive gun hanging off Klondike’s side would make the cramped interior of the hotel into a disadvantage.

Only two bars remained. There was screaming and what sounded like pistol fire for a moment before the bars suddenly fused into a single one. I stared at the hotel, puzzled as to what Branch could be doing.

A loud crashing sound came from the building, and I looked up to see a section of the wall exploding into a shower of dust. Branch ran out of the building through the rubble like a pony-shaped wrecking ball, and draped on their helmet and chest were the bloodied remains of a bandit. They had slammed them through the wall.

Branch soared through the air for a moment before slamming down on the floor below. Their opponent’s body flopped onto the floor like a rubber puppet, but judging by the choked wheezing sounds that it was making, they were still alive.

“Found you,” Branch said, firing one of their shotguns.

The point-blank shot turned the top of the pony’s head into red mist.

“Sweet Celestia!” Pot shouted, clearly horrified at the ranger for wasting ammo on a pony that would most certainly die soon.

“That is how you deal with bandits, steel ranger style!” Branch said, striking a pose.

“No, it is not.” Klondike said, turning the corner and walking up to his companion. “You were needlessly brutal. And that stunt could have damaged your armor,” He added.

“B- but I-“ Branch stuttered, but the other ranger was not finished.

“Do not let it happen again,” The orange-starred pony stated. “Or I will have your armor taken from you again. Permanently, this time,”

“Sir, yes sir,” Said Branch, kicking at the floor.

The star-covered ranger let out a strange thumping sound, as if he had struck his microphone with his muzzle, before falling completely silent. The pair stared at each other, with Branch’s head lowering further with every passing moment. Once they had reached an agreement, Klondike turned to look at me and Pot again.

“Branch will watch over you for a moment,” Klondike said before starting on his way towards the hotel before Pot or I could reply.

I looked over Branch’s armor while we waited, noticing a couple new shiny scratches. I couldn’t deny that that power armor was impressive.

“That jump was pretty cool,” I said.

The steel ranger lifted their head and stared at me for a moment before replying.

“Heh… thanks,” They said.

Around half an hour later, Klondike walked back out of the ruined hotel, carrying two pairs of saddlebags across his back, clearly stuffed full of many different items. He stared at Banch for a moment and once again seemed to talk to them through those muffled mumbles.

“You two wil come with us now,” He stated, boring into me with his slit-visor.

I nodded in agreeance and fell in line behind the ranger, taking a moment to make sure Pot was still following us. The blue stallion shot a distrustful glance at the armored ponies, but he didn’t say anything. I did have to wonder about why he was so mistrustful. The only thing the rangers had done so far was point their guns at us with reasonable suspicion and then taken out a bandit camp! There wasn’t any reason to not believe that they had our best interests in mind.

That did, however, raise the question of just how those evil ponies had made it all the way out here… perhaps- Why don’t I just ask them? I thought, looking at our heavily armored guards. Klondike would probably brush me off, but Branch seemed to be a lot more open to dialogue than her star-spangled superior.

“So hey, I waas wondering,” I started, walking up to the undercorated ranger. “Isn’t this supposed to be your territory? How’d those ponies set up an ambush like that? Don’t you have patrols going around?”

Knight Branch looked over at Klondike for a few seconds before speaking, probably waiting to see if the ranger had any objection to my question.

“This is our territory. Those ponies were slavers that were trying to sneak past us from Fillydelphia.

“Does that happen often?” I wondered.

“No,” Klondike boomed. “They never make it past us, and if they do, we catch them on their way out,”

“Ohhhh,” I said, nodding in understanding. “How do you know if they’re trying to sneak past though?”

Knight Branch cocked their head to the side and chuckled softly before replying.

“Well that’s pretty simple, we-”

“Branch…” Klondike warned.

“Yes, sir, sorry sir,” The undecorated ranger ammeneded, lowering their head.

I was confused about the interruption, but I intelligently guessed that Klondike probably had his own reasons to not divulge what could very well be closely-guarded Steel Ranger secrets. Branch, being under his command, had no choice but to obey his commands.

We kept walking for a while in absolute silence, eventually coming face to face with the entrance to the park. A large metal archway marked the entrance, with the words ‘Trotterton Reservoir’ carved in bronze atop it.

A steel ranger walked up to us from behind a sandbag barricade that had been erected besides the archway. This one bore a deep blue stripe across their right pauldron, perhaps some rank mark?

“Who are those two?” The guard asked, gesturing towards me and Pot.

Klondike mumbled something, but the other ranger tapped the side of their helmet with a forehoof.

“My comms are shot,” They stated.

The star-covered ranger sighed so loudly that I could hear it even through his helmet.

“She’s a VIP from scribe tourniquet, code excélsior… and he’s what’s left of her escort,” Klondike stated.

The armored gatekeeper took at me and then at Pot, nodding slightly.

“Well then, he has to stay out here,” The guard replied, pointing at Pot.

“What?” I exclaimed, causing all the rangers to look at me, “Why?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t irritated them too much.

“Outsiders aren’t allowed on the premises. And you won’t need his protection while you’re with us, anyway,” Knight Branch offered.

I looked at the blue stallion. He looked terrified, but he managed to give the slightest nod.

“T- that sounds fair…I’ll just wait for you out here,” Pot muttered.

“That will not be necessary,” Klondike spoke up, “If you have already been paid, get lost,”

Pot gulped and then nodded vigorously before standing up and giving me a determined stare. He won’t go far, I bet he’ll set up camp out of sight to wait for me. I thought, smiling at the earth pony.

The steel rangers led me into the park, which was essentially a smaller version of the deserted wasteland that surrounded Baltimare. As far as I could tell, the only difference was that the park still bore the cracked remains of walkways and benches. A small building sat in the middle, next to a dry lakebed. Judging by the large balcony and the immense window frames, it had probably been some sort of restaurant at one point. A faded sign stood next to the front door that read ´Strudels and brews’, this had definitely been a restaurant before.

In the present, however, it had been converted into an improvised communication hub. Two armored steel rangers walked around the ground floor, with a third standing guard on the roof. Among the towering steel-clad ponies walked four others in red cloaks, operating the rows of equipment that covered what had once been a counter.

“Welcome back, Branch!” One of the red-cloaked ponies said, walking up to us. The ranger bowed her head in acknowledgement.

She was an old unicorn mare. Her brown mane was streaked with gray, but her blue eyes still held vigor in them. I noticed that unlike the other robed ponies, she had a large metal medal hanging from her neck. The mare took a few steps closer and then stopped in her tracks when she noticed me.

“Who are you?” She inquired.

“I am Black Light, I’m friends with scribe Tourniquet,” I answered, practicing my introduction several times today was definitely helping me not stutter.

The mare stared inquisitively at Klondike, who gave her a nod before speaking.

“Excélsior,” He stated.

I noticed how the scribe mare’s brow furrowed and relaxed repeatedly before she finally looked at me with renewed intrigue.

“Well, I am head scribe Bolt,” The mare said, offering her hoof for me to shake, “The elder is not here, but she will be back soon to listen to whatever you’ve got to say. In the meantime, protocol demands that we take you in temporarily,” She added with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Nice to meet you,” I answered, shaking her hoof.

The booming hoofsteps of paladin Klondike drew closer as the ranger cleared their throat.

“Shall Branch and I return to our posts?” He asked.

“No, you two are to monitor our guest until the elder gets back,” Bolt stated.

“Yes ma’am,” Both the rangers said.

“Come, you must be tired from your travels,” The scribe said, gesturing for me to follow her deeper into the building.

The back of the restaurant was… strange. I was expecting some sort of storage room or kitchen, and, granted, it was there. But the strange part was the large stairwell that went down into the depths. I stared at it for a moment before following scribe Bolt down. The very edge of the stairwell was strange, on one side it had a series of holes, while on the other it had a series of matching studs. A sliding entrance? Clearly, this basement could be hidden from sight, what a peculiar thing.

We walked down the stairs for a long time, at this point we had to be way underground. Where were we going? The booming hoofsteps of Klondike and Branch followed behind us like a stalking mechanical beast.

I had been wondering just where the actual base was, considering that I doubted the entirety of the steel rangers could be a dozen ponies! The answer was revealed at the bottom of the stairs, where a monstrous blast door opened to reveal a bunker. The roof was relatively low, but still more than tall enough to let the armored ponies walk around underneath it. We made our way deeper into the facility, eventually coming to a large open room that apparently served as the armory. Or at least that was my best guess judging by the racks of weapons that covered the right side wall and the multiple crane-esque contraptions that held various suits of power armor.

“I can’t wait to get out of this thing, the sun was killing me up there!” Branch said, walking to the left side and towards a row of open suits of power armor. The ranger raised their forehooves and removed their helmet. A short, light blue mane poured out of it, slightly damp with what I assumed to be sweat. It looked as if they had cut their mane by randomly snipping at it with scissors.

The pony placed their helmet on a hook on the wall, next to a long row of other helmets. Beneath the hangers was a long series of drawers that reminded me of the ones in stable 75’s clinic.

Branch took a step back and suddenly went stiff. Their armor let out a loud hiss and opened along the back, spreading apart like petals on a mechanical flower. Both rear legs split open to reveal the pony’s light green coat underneath. A mare, I realized when she arched her back to pull her forelegs out of the armor. She was wearing a strange kind of harness, covered in what I assumed to be attachment points for her armor while still leaving her legs exposed.

“Phew, I need to patch up my cooling system,” Branch said, turning toward the row of drawers. I wonder what her cutie mark is, I thought as I watched the mare’s covered flank.

Klondike walked up beside her and removed their own helmet, leaving the orange star-covered headpiece hanging on the hook next to Branch’s.

The stallion’s face immediately grabbed my attention. There was a massive scar that went from the middle of his right cheek all the way to the end of his muzzle, it’s whitish color standing out against the stallion’s indigo coat. His mane showed signs of having been black at some point, but if the wrinkles around the stallion’s eyes were any indicator of his age, it could be assumed that the gray streaks in his mane was not its natural color.

His face was fixed in a seemingly permanent scowl, with deep wrinkles accentuating his furrowed eyebrows. Everything about this pony commanded attention and respect. He walked around his armor and took the saddlebags he had taken from the slavers off, slinging them over his back instead.

“You should take better care of your equipment, Branch,” He reprimanded the green mare. He clearly didn’t need the power armor’s amplifier for his voice to rattle a pony’s bones.

“Sir, yes sir!” The mare responded, holding her forehoof up in a salute.

I felt a hood tapping my shoulder. Scribe Bolt was trying to get my attention.

“Oh sorry I just… wanted to see the armor,” I explained, offering her a sincere smile.

The mare looked over at Klondike as he pulled himself out of his suit of armor.

“They really are amazing, aren’t they?” The older unicorn said, her serious tone dimming slightly.

“Yeah, especially the older models,” I answered, smiling slightly at having chipped away slightly at the mare’s seriousness. Could I be finally earning their trust?

“I know! The newer ones may be easier to repair, but they don’t have that same intimidation value,” She said, chuckling slightly. Her expression quickly soured, however, and after shaking her head slightly she spoke again, “We uh… we need to take you to one of the holding areas while we wait for the elder,”

I raised an eyebrow at the strange shift in tone, hoping that I hadn’t accidentally upset her somehow. Thinking quickly, I thought of a way to gain her trust again.

“Can I make myself useful while we wait?” I wondered. Perhaps helping around a bit would help them see that I meant no harm.

Scribe Bolt looked at me for a moment, as if weighing her options. Eventually, her eyes came to rest on my PipBuck.

“Do you know how to use that thing?” She asked.

I raised my leg and stared at the device, unsure as to what she could mean.

“Well… yeah? I’ve had it for years now,” I replied.

“Then you might be able to help us out a bit while we wait…” She continued, her eyes focusing on the ground as if she were thinking. Her gaze quickly focused on me again, however, and she straightened herself out, “Yes, you could help us, but I will have to ask you to leave your weapons here and put this on,” She said, floating out a small ring from one of the drawers behind me.

Again with the anti magic rings? I thought, fighting with all my might to avoid rolling my eyes.

“Sure!” I said, grinning.

I took my guns out and carefully set them down on one of the many empty racks around us before bowing my head and letting the scribe slide the ring on my horn. The odd sensation of my magic being cut off was still just as uncomfortable as it had been before, but I couldn’t blame them for the security measure. I couldn’t help but feel slightly insulted when I noticed that both Klondike and Branch had slipped on leg-holsters with pistols. How come they get to carry a weapon? I pouted internally.

“All ready? Come with me,” Scribe Bolt said, gesturing for me to follow her further into the facility.

Immediately outside the atrium-esque room that we had come into was the rest of the bunker. A series of wide hallways that were flanked by dozens of doors. Some had sleeping cots, others had tables and chairs, I even saw a few that had a mechanic’s shop! It was incredible. The entire place looked like a miniature city populated solely by steel rangers. Do you still call them steel rangers if they’re not wearing the armor? I wondered as we passed a pair of scribes.

I was amazed at just how well this place seemed to function. I had been expecting the surface to be nothing more than a lawless wasteland, but it seemed to still have some pockets of properly civilized ponies around. The medical center had already been a surprise, but even that had only been a couple of civilized ponies clinging desperately onto what little they could salvage. This, however, was a fully functional society, ordered and secured.

My presence seemed to be a strange occurrence, something that I quickly noticed when I saw the many eyes that immediately became fixed on me as we walked down the hallways. Off to the side, one of the many doors slid open, revealing a little colt.

“Branch! You’re back!” They chirped, bouncing in place.

Their mane was a light brown, similar to mine, and his coat was a pale green. He rushed out of the room and stopped in his tracks to look at me with a confused stare.

“Who’s that, Branch?” The young pony asked, cocking his head at the light green mare.

The knight chuckled slightly before walking up to the colt and ruffling their mane.

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” The mare answered, “Go do your chores or something,”

“B- but you said you’d take me shooting when you got back!” The colt pouted.

Paladin Klondike cleared his throat, drawing attention to his unamused expression. Knight Branch chuckled nervously before responding.

“I’ve uhh… got something I need to do first,” She said, looking at me, “But I’ll take you shooting right after, I promise!”

“Fiiiiine,” The colt said, rolling his eyes before turning around and dragging his hooves back into the room he had come out of.

I couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. These ponies really had built a paradise down here, they could train with weapons, they were organized and civil. And they definitely have some sort of lab here if they have young ponies running around. I thought, slightly confused as to why they let the young ones wander among the adults like that. One would imagine that the little colts and fillies would be kept in a more secure part of the bunker. Then again, the entire bunker was probably about as safe as it could get.

My stomach grumbled in frustration, pulling me out of my thoughts. I shook my head slightly and looked at the two rangers that were accompanying me with a pleading expression.

“Could I eat something before we keep going?” I asked.

Knight Branch looked at me with an expression that was halfway between a grimace and a nervous smile before replying.

“I uhh… maybe-” She started, looking over at Scribe Bolt.

The unicorn raised a forehoof to their chin to think for a moment before speaking up.

“I don’t see why not,” She replied. “Twenty minutes, I will go look for you later,”

Branch smiled and looked at Klondike.

“You coming?” She asked.

“No,” The paladin replied. “I need to go make my report,”

Branch nodded silently and turned around to look at me.

“Come on then!” She said, gesturing forward with her head. “Follow me,” She added.

I walked behind the green mare for a few minutes, through the twisting and winding corridors of the bunker. This place was way bigger than I imagined, even if most of the halls and rooms were empty, there were still a lot of rangers down here.

“Where do you get your food from?” I asked Branch, realizing that all of these ponies had to eat somehow.

“We uhh… trade for it, yeah,” The mare replied. “There’s a lot of small farmsteads around these parts, we keep them safe from slavers and monsters, they give us food in exchange,” She explained.

“So all your food comes from outside? What happens if the farms get destroyed?” I wondered.

“Ah! That’s the beauty of this bunker!” Branch stated, “It might not be as fancy as one of those Stable Tec stables, but it has a massive canning machine! We have enough food to last us a couple months, more than enough to- Ahem… I mean,” The mare interrupted herself, clearing her throat and looking around nervously.

“It wouldn’t be an issue, not at all,” She added, looking at me nervously. “You uhh… you didn’t hear any of that,”

I raised an eyebrow at the mare, but I was reminded of how Klondike had reprimanded her before. I nodded, passing a forehoof over my mouth.

“I won’t say a word!” I chirped, watching as Branch gave a relieved sigh.

We kept walking for a little bit until we reached a large open room with many long tables. Branch walked to the far end of the room, where a bored-looking unicorn stood behind a bar. The mare cleared her throat, tearing the unicorn’s attention away from the terminal he had been pouring over.

“Two servings, please,” The green mare said. “Knight Cinnamon Branch,”

“Two?” The unicorn asked, raising his gaze to look at us, his brow relaxed when he noticed me standing behind Branch, however. “Ah, I see,” They commented before leaning over to the side and pulling a drawer open.

Two brownish-green bars were floated out from underneath the bar, held by small metal trays.

“Aww… no actual food?” Branch pouted.

“It’s way too early for that,” The unicorn replied. “Leftover cake or nothing,” He added, giving Branch a tired stare.

I looked down at the ‘leftover cake’, as the stallion had called them. To be completely fair, they just looked like a really big food chip from Stable 75.

“Okay, fine,” The mare answered, her ears drooping slightly.

Branch scooped up her tray and balanced it over her flanks, gesturing for one of the nearby tables with her head.

“Wanna sit over here?” She asked.

“Sure!” I said, grabbing my tray with my magic and turning around to-

I turned my head back around, my eyes falling on my tray, which hadn’t moved in the slightest. I cleared my throat nervously and chuckled, walking back up to the bar and scooping it up in my forehooves. I hate these rings. I thought, crossing my eyes to try and look at my horn.

I walked over to the table, balancing the tray as carefully as I could. I noticed that Branch had gotten a pair of water cups and set them out on the table.

As soon as I sat down, my stomach growled for attention. The bar on my tray looked fairly good, but the taste was just excellent. Sure, it didn’t hold a candle to Pot’s cooking, but it came pretty close. The texture, on the other hoof… was… soggy.

“So… uhh…” Branch said, staring at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern as I wolfed down the food. “You said you were from a stable?” She asked.

“Yup! Stable 75, have you heard of it?” I asked, almost pleadingly.

“Can’t say I have,” The green mare responded.

Damn it.

“Well, it’s a really nice stable, if you know any ponies who can shoot really really well, they’re probably from there!” I chirped, hoping that perhaps she could point me in the right direction.

After all, if the other graduates had all decided to hide the fact that they were from stable 75, then they would only be known for their fighting prowess!

“As far as I know, all the best shooters in Baltimare were trained right here!” Branch chuckled, taking a bite out of her food bar.

Damn it!

I sighed deeply, looking down at the last remaining bite of my food. I perked up quickly, however, wouldn't want to come off as rude, after all.

“You trained here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, started as soon as Klondike took me in,” She replied, pushing her food bar away after only taking a couple bites. When she noticed my eyes following the tray, she slid it over to me instead.

“Thanks!” I said, dragging the tray closer to me, these things were good.

I finished my own bar and then quickly got to work on the second one, gulping it down with some water before looking at Branch again.

“So Klondike recruited you?” I wondered.

“Kind of…” Branch said, her gaze hardening as she took a sip from her cup. “He… he rescued me when I was a little filly, after that, I just had to join the rangers…” She explained.

“Oh…” I answered, slightly taken aback by the mare’s shift in tone.

“Hey, it worked out in the end!” Branch said, chuckling. “I got some cool armor out of it,”

I chuckled along with her, looking up wistfully as I thought about her gorgeous armor. Oh what I wouldn’t give to wear one of those…

“I bet you feel like you could take on anything in there!” I said, smiling.

“You have no idea!” The green mare answered. “But it has gotten me into trouble sometimes…” She added sheepishly.

I thought back to when Klondike had threatened her with taking her armor away after the hotel fight.

“What do you mean?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

“Well, sometimes I get a little too carried away and bite off more than I can chew,” Branch explained. “Klondike never goes through with his threats though, except for one time…”

I shoved the last bit of food into my mouth and started chewing, gesturing for the mare to keep talking.

“So… on one of our first missions together we had to get an engine part from a factory,” She explained, gesturing with her hooves as she spoke. “We had the part, but some scavengers had us pinned down,”

“I doubt they were too much for you two to deal with… right?” I asked after swallowing.

“Oh no, these weren’t normal scavengers,” Branch replied, getting more into recounting the story. “They all had rocket launchers… heh, if you get to look at Klondike’s left thigh you might just see a scar from that fight,”

I set the trays aside and took a sip of water, paying as much attention as I could to the mare.

“In any case, Klondike told me that he would distract them while I ran away with the part… but I wasn’t just gonna leave him there to die!” The green earth pony said.

“What did you do?” I asked, my eyes sparkling as I imagined the scene.

“I ran out the back of the building, but then walked around it and flanked the scavengers from the right!” Branch responded, using her hooves to explain her movements. “I caught them completely off guard and managed to save Klondike,”

This mare was awesome, but something about her story wasn’t adding up.

“Wait so… why did you say it got you into trouble?” I asked, raising an eyebrow again.

Branch threw her head back and chuckled before replying.

“Klondike was furious!” She said, still fighting against her laughter. “He must’ve yelled at me for an hour straight about ‘disobeying orders’ and ‘risking the entire mission’ as if he really thought I would let him die!” The mare added.

I put my forehoof on her shoulder, suddenly concerned over the punishment she had received.

“Well, if it means anything, I think you made the right choice,” I said simply.

Branch gave me a confused look.

“Thanks?” She offered.

“You’re welcome!” I chirped.

I looked down at my water cup again, feeling reinvigorated by the knowledge that there were heroic ponies like Branch in this awful wasteland, even if she hadn’t come from my stable.

“Hey uhh…” I started tentatively. “Do you- uhhh… do you think there’s any chance of me being able to join you guys?” I asked.

Branch smiled at me before speaking.

“Maybe if we ask Bolt she’ll…” She trailed off, but her expression soured. “Actually I uhh… I don’t think you’ll be able to…” She managed, almost as if she were choking the words out.

“What? Why?” I asked, confused.

“I’ll uhh… I’ll let her tell you that herself…” The green mare responded, her tone strained.

Guess she isn’t allowed to tell me that either. I thought, slightly annoyed at the secrecy. But hey, they hadn’t done anything bad to me yet, they seemed like perfectly reasonable, level-headed ponies!

“Fair enough, I guess,” I relented.

STABLE-TEC UNIFIED OPERATING SYSTEM

COPYRIGHT 1624 - 1626 STABLE-TEC

Biographical Registry System v.147

Full name: Spark Plug

Classification: Unicorn stallion – 23 years of age – C-8ecae6 M-03254c E-cd3700

Cutie mark: A spark plug

Spark Plug was a trainee scribe for the Baltimare chapter of the Steel Rangers, he decided to join after being recruited by an elderly scribe to assist him with research, as the old stallion’s eyes weren’t as sharp as they used to whereas Plug’s could still see with perfect ease. After that short experience, he decided to put his ability to read to good use and joined up with the Steel Rangers, where he excelled in cataloging and transcribing documents.

While very smart and gifted with a promising future, he and many other scribes would tragically perish in a freak accident involving the Steel Ranger headquarters’s turret security system.

Author's Note

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