• Published 24th Jan 2015
  • 2,982 Views, 57 Comments

Fallout: Equestria - Empty Quiver - thefurryrailfan



Far away from home and with nothing but the things in their saddlebags, two lifelong friends work for a way back home, but may find more than they expected.

  • ...
6
 57
 2,982

Volare!


-----

I leaned out of the side of the Clydesdale's driver's seat, staring over at Night Strike as she hopped down from Fyre. Crash Dive and Aerith stepped out of the back of the vehicle to look over the damage as I caught my breath. Rangefinder popped her head out of the top of her tank, staring down at the rest of us and letting off a huff. “Well, I think I can scratch slaying some twisted creature out of Steel King’s books off of my bucket list. ‘course, I don’t think that was on my list this morning either, but it’s off either way.” Stepping out of the half-truck, the rubber of my diving suit squeaked a bit as I hopped to the ground to look over the dead monster. Even if half of it's head hadn’t been blown apart by the tank shell, it was almost impossible to discern what exactly the thing had been before the rads had gotten to it. Flesh bulged in irregular places, creeping through large plates of shell. Protrusions, whether they were limbs or feelers, it was impossible to tell, were twisted and entwined with each other. I gagged a bit, feeling a bit of stomach acid creeping up my throat as the smell finally hit my nose through the helmet. Yeah, hurk, yeah, I’d rather not vomit inside a bowl please.

Aerith walked up, lifting up one of the teeth that had been knocked loose. Even the splintered section stood almost as tall as she did, the enamel stained red from blood. “Sweet Celestia, I get that radiation and magical experiments did pretty weird things to the wildlife, but, well…” Night Strike said, looking at the beast. She shuddered, turning back to Rangefinder. “Let’s hope that was the only one. I don’t think I’d need to try killing another one of those. So, uh, you sure you guys don’t need our help on anything else?” Rangefinder trotted up to the destroyed head of the monster, poking at it with a stick while covering her muzle with a hoof.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t hurt to try and move it out of the center of town, but we should be good otherwise. I think we scared off the others, and it won’t be too hard setting up some kind of perimeter until more ponies come in and help fix this place up.” Rangefinder responded. She lifted up one of the pelvic… at least, I think that’s the pelvis, fins of the large fish creature, getting a better look at some of the thick exoskeleton covering most of its body.

“Alright, any idea how we’re going to tug this thing? The Clydesdale’s strong, but I don’t think it’s that good, even hitched up with your tank.” I said, still trying to make heads and tails of the beast. It… didn’t have two heads, did it? You’d think without the fog it’d be easier to tell. As if to answer my question, I heard a loud horn blast through the air behind me. Clutching my chest to reassure myself that my heart had not stopped beating, I turned around to see some sort of... wait, that not-a-tank's familiar... oh yeah, that's the thing that B-Company and Scouring left in. One pony in power armor popped his head out from behind it, waving down to us as the machine slowed to a halt.

Climbing out of the hatch and hopping down to the irradiated scorched mud, he landed with a thud and kicked up a ring of dust, geiger counters clicking. Power armor servos whirred as he stood back up, and he strode over to us, the rest of his company climbing out of the tank. “Good t' see you guys again. Gotta admit though, I would’ve expected you guys t’ leave an airfield with some fancy flying machine, not a half-track on steroids.” Scouring commented, admiring the Clydesdale.

“Oh, trust me, if Static would’ve let me bring the Stork along, we would’ve been shooting grenades down from a hundred meters up to take out that thing.” Night Strike answered, grinning widely for a moment before faltering. “…then again, seeing how Fyre’s guns didn’t really do anything but piss it off at first...” She shuddered again, cutting herself short. The others walked up to us, Crimson’s signature plasma caster hanging off of his armor. “Well, anyway, what're you guys doing back here anyways? I mean, dunno if the rangers know or not, but the Battered-Sea and Shady Shores, and all the tech that was there is now kinda..." Night Strike gestured towards the crater, the power-armored stallions looking towards it.

Crimson stepped forwards, still looking towards the crater. "Orders from the lead Paladin, we've been keeping tabs on you guys since we left. Thought that it might be better for our appearance if we followed in your hoofsteps, kept going around the wasteland helping ponies out. Also felt that the Vanhoover Five ought to be five again, having Scouring with you was at least making ponies believe we weren't all drunk explosive-happy morons..." The ranger with the missile launcher... Decisive Strike? That sounds right - trotting over.

"C'mon sarge, that was only that one time! We haven't been back to Maple Creek in months, they've probably already forgotten about us." Crimson passed on a glare towards Strike, the steel ranger Knight taking a step backwards. "Er, well, anyways, yeah, you guys're gettin' Scouring back. You're actually kinda hard to track down, Sweets was on the radio all day just tryin' to get a read on you. Tried tellin' him that a tank's radio can't pick up Radio KAOS, but, eh, I guess it worked out in the end."

Night Strike wore a smile in her helmet, passing on a nod as Scouring draped an armored hoof over her shoulders. Vanhoover Five it is again... she turned her attention back towards the crater, and the giant corpse in the middle of it. Oh, right... "So, think your guys’ little artillery there would be able to help us drag this thing back over to the water? Rotting corpses generally don’t make for good community centerpieces, eheh.”

“Ah, sure, but sooner we get outta here, the better, yanno? I’d still like to have kids some day, eheheh...” Sweets responded, looking about nervously in his helmet, a few bottles of Rad-X poking out of clearly stuffed saddlebags. Night Strike rolled her eyes, waving a hoof dismissively as she trotted back over to our truck to dig around for a length of chain. Pulling out the one normally used to secure the trunks full of ammo to the trailer, Night Strike wrapped one end around the hitch of the vehicle before starting to trail it over to the monster.

“Pshhht, my dad’s been exposed to more rads than I can count and he still had a kid, same with Static's. Hell, he even did it with another stallion!... unrelated to the rads.” Night Strike said, lashing the chain around one of the larger legs of the monster, twisting it about to ensure it stayed secure. As Sweets went back to retrieve some tow cable himself, Aerith walked over to the chains already tied around the monster. Her horn glowed, the links binding to itself to create an even stronger tangle of flesh and metal. “Alright, let’s hope we don’t just accidentally tear the legs out of their sockets, or something.” Night Strike tugged on the chain to test it, the leg barely moving an inch from her pulls.

I hoisted myself into the driver’s seat, Crash Dive helping Rangefinder tie up the cable to Fyre and the Avenger. The engine of the Clydesdale roared to life as I carefully turned it around, pulling forward until the chain snapped tight. Scouring hopped into the back along with Aerith and Night Strike, setting himself down on one of the ammo crates. The rumble of my engine was soon joined by the deafening roar of Fyre's and the Avenger's, all of us starting to slowly trundle forward. The engines strained as the tracks dug into the ground, trying to find purchase and pull the hefty beast. I leaned forward, as if that would assist the movement of the half-track. Slowly, agonizingly so, the monster began to slide slowly along the ground. The beast rolled over slightly as the chains pulled straighter, a trail of blood being left behind as it was dragged along.

I urged the Clydesdale onwards, the engine whining in protest as it strained to keep the carcass moving. The tanks were clearly having issues as well, each barely helping to move it forward as time went on. “Come oooooooon…” I grunted, the tracks seeming to spin uselessly in place. Suddenly, with a loud snap, one of the links popped apart. The wheels suddenly caught, sending us careening forward. Instinctively, I slammed on the brakes, which only caused us to skid forward on the dusty ground, my visor growing foggy as I panted. We slid to a stop, Aerith coughing as she inhaled some of the radioactive dust cloud kicked up by our sudden halt. I leaned out of the window, looking back to see Rangefinder and Crimson popping their heads out of their tanks.

“Fuck, you guys alright?” Rangefinder asked, her frayed mane blowing about a bit. I nodded, Rangefinder glancing back over her shoulder at the corpse. “Ugh, I don’t think we’re going to be able to move this thing. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised it was able to move above water on its own as is. That armor it's got has to be at least a few tons.” She scratched her head, looking to Crimson for ideas, who merely shrugged in response. Sighing, she continued, “Alright, you guys can head out, I don’t think we’re going to be able to move this thing. I might need to radio over for some of the other ghouls to help out, maybe one’ve them will have some sort of idea what to do with it... Mad Jack’d probably suggest eating it, assuming we don’t get a swarm of bloatsprites on this thing too soon...” Rangefinder started talking to herself, clearly no longer paying us any attention.

I turned to Night Strike, who gave me a noncommittal tilt of her. “She’s right, I don’t see what more we can really do. Besides, I thought you were the one who wanted to get that generator back to the lighthouse a-sap.” Revving the engine a couple times, I began to speed off, the chain bouncing on the ground behind us as I made my way southwards. The somewhat lush vegetation that had been growing along the coast before was now little more than a dusty plain. Here and there blackened skeletons of bushes stood, their branches charred and sickly.

It was nearly impossible to see anything more than a dozen feet in front of us, the air filled with a dense brown fog of dust and dirt. Even without my goggles, the desolate landscape seemed to glow softly, as if it was somehow lighting a path for us to follow through it. Night Strike reached into her saddlebags to pop the cap off of a bottle of Sparkle Rad, bringing it up to her lips. The top of the bottle clinked softly against her helmet, her eyes crossing to look down at it. “Oh, yeah…”

---

“Well, my Pip-Buck says it should only be about half a mile or so.” Night Strike said, looking between her map and the cracked road we were trundling along. Rocks lay among small craters, having been launched several hundred yards from the force of the megaspell blast as I tried to navigate the barren fields. “I could’ve sworn this guy’s shack was closer than this, though... you don't think the blast actually moved his whole house intact, do you?” Peering off into the distance, I spotted the silhouette of a small wooden building, nestled by some corpses of burnt trees. I brought the Clydesdale to a stop in front of it, looking over the shack. No signs of any flash shadows, so I guess that’s one point in the favor of the conspiracy guy surviving... Honestly kind of surprised the building’s still standing at all, really. We climbed out of the vehicle, Night Strike striding up to the door confidently. “I’d like to see this guy deny megaspells now! He practically had front row seats to that thing!” Yeah, Strikey, that’s assuming he’s not a pile of ash right now.

Opening the door, it revealed a scarred and flayed stallion, who looked up from a block of wood he was whittling. He looked up as we entered, looking slightly miffed. “Oi, you guys ever hear of knocking? And what the heck’re you doing dressed up like that, anyways?... Ah, fine, come in. I suppose you’re here because of our bet, right?” He pushed his chair back from the table, standing up. My eyes widened a bit, taken aback to see the stallion walking about. He stepped over to a bulky safe, bending over and beginning to spin the dial back and forth. With a ‘clunk’, the safe door popped open, revealing a scroll, along with a small pile of caps and a rather curious looking glass orb. “Alright, hand ‘em over and I’ll stick ‘em in.”

I stopped for a moment, my mind trying to register what he’d just said. Aerith looked equally confused, tilting her head as her mouth opened for a rebuttal that never came. “Aaaahahaha, sorry, what?” Night Strike finally responded, stepping forward. “You are joking, right? You can’t possibly still think megaspells are a myth! We detonated one two freakin' miles away from your house! What in Tartarus did you think turned you into beef jerky?!” She said, waving her hooves maniacally as she spoke. The stallion’s expression turned sour again, pulling into a sneer as he walked up to us.

“Might I remind you about the terms of our bet? You said if you set off some magical megaspell, then you’d get my recipe. Well, I didn’t see no megaspell detonation in the past week, I don’t see no giant monsters crashing about like them ministry folk said what’d happen when they went off. And it just so happens I got careless near the fire. Some big wind came and knocked the burning logs into me. Thank you so much for reminded me of the burns.” The stallion retorted, still glaring at us. “Now, are you handing over my caps, or are you here to insult my intelligence again?”

Night Strike’s eye began to twitch as she stared wordlessly ahead. Her hoof started to creep towards Thumper, but I stepped out in front of her before she could proceed with giving the stallion’s walls a fresh coat of paint. “Aaaaah, about that, sir. Look, we would be more than happy to fulfill our end of the bargain, really, honestly, we would. But, well… a million caps is hard to come by, even for us.” I began. The stallion still looked skeptical, but was no longer giving us the same look he would give to a radroach he’d just crushed under his hoof. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve been selling guns to towns as war profiteers. We have 20,000 caps on hoof, along with this.” I dug into my own saddlebags to pull out the recipe we’d retrieved at the sunrise sarsaparilla factory, nodding to Crash Dive to head back to the truck for the money. “Now, this is a completely unknown flavor of soft drink, brand new, never before tried by ponykind since before the war. I’d say you slap some new brand name on this, and you’ll have a multi-million cap company in a little over five years. Possibly three, given your clear shrewd business sense.” I gave a small smile, one crossing the stallions face as he relaxed a bit.

“However,” I continued “Considering the value this will have, along with our 20,000 down payment, I think it only fair you trade something as well. This may have been a bet, and you did say that if you were turned into a ghoul, you would pay up too. And, really, how valuable can that RAD recipe be anyway? They may be rare, but it won’t take long before someone figures out the right combination of ingredients from the bottle labels, and then that will be little more than a bit of uncrumpled trash.” The stallion’s frown faded, to be replaced with a look of serious concentration. “Trust me, you take this, and you’ll have enough caps to buy out any competitor.”

The stallion thought, looking down to the scrap of paper in my hoof, then back to his safe. Night Strike was off in the corner, trying not to have a mental breakdown as Aerith attempted to calm her as well. “Done.” The stallion swiped the paper from my hoof before turning around. He rolled it up, slipping it into his safe and pulling out the RAD recipe. He handed it over to me as Crash Dive returned with the bag of caps. Money changed hooves, and the stallion locked his safe before walking back over to his table to sit down with a smug smile across his face. “There, now, aren’t we all happier now that we’ve lived up to our word?”

Night Strike fumed, stepping forward once again as Aerith tried to tug her back. “No! No I’m not! What kind of crazy pony do you have to be to think megaspells aren’t real!? You saw one! What did you think that shockwave was, a strong updraft from the coast?! For Luna’s sake, you’re a GHOUL! A ZOMBIE! YOUR GENES ARE MORE TANGLED THAN A CAT WITH A BALL OF YARN! WHYYYYYYYYYYY AAAAAARE YOOOOU SOOOO INSAAAAANE!?!” She leaned forward onto the table, panting as the glass of her helmet fogged. We all stared at her in shock, her breathing slowing as she stood back up, leting off a sigh. “Okay. I’m done now. Have a nice day Crazy McCrazyton.” She turned, heading back out of the door.

We followed after her, all piling back into the Clydesdale. Night Strike put her hooves to her helmet, shaking her head back and forth. “How somepony like that exists, I will never know…” The engine roared to life as I turned around, heading back to the road that led to the lighthouse. Night Strike picked up the recipe we’d gotten from the stallion, looking it over. She glanced over to me, calming down. “Hey, uh, thanks, though. I’m still not really sure how you managed to convince him to give us this. I know I don’t have what it takes to deal with nutjobs like that.” She chuckled a little, stowing away the recipe.

“That nutjob also doesn’t have what he took, either.” I giggled. Night Strike looked a bit confused before I whipped out the recipe for the new sunrise sarsaparilla. Her jaw fell open as she stared at the scrap of paper, utterly dumbfounded. Stammering, she looked back to the others, hoping they would provide an answer, but they all shared the same look of surprise as she did. “H-how? W-what? I don’t even…” Her voice trailed off.

I simply tapped my muzzle in the helmet, grinning mischievously. “Your little burst of anger what pretty helpful, Strikey. I almost thought you knew what I had planned. And before you harp on me for being a heartless bastard, I did leave him the caps. I’m sure he’ll be able to buy all the conspiracy texts he wants with that, assuming he doesn’t go even more crazy looking for the ‘misplaced’ recipe.” Night Strike only shook her head, grinning a bit as she pulled up her Pip-Buck, switching over to the radio as I sped off.

"Baby if I made you mad
For something I might have said
Please, let’s forget the past
The future looks bright ahead
Don’t be cruel to who a heart that’s true
I don’t want no other love
Baby it’s you I’m thinking of"

---

The sky was now an inky black, dotted with stars as we pulled up outside of the old military outpost we’d rested at before. Off in the distance, the sick green glow of the Battered-Sea crater illuminated the north behind us, sending a large, irradiated beacon to the sky. Pulling up to the gate, the engine switched off with a click, the rumble dying in the night air. I reached up to pull off my helmet, taking a deep breath of the fresh, cool air before hopping off of the Clydesdale. The Geiger counters attached to our Pip-Bucks had long stopped their frantic ticking, the ground now only slightly charred from fires following the blast of the bomb, some snow even finding place on it. I began to pull the heavy suit off of myself with Aerith's assistance, peeling it away as the sweat from my coat caused it to stick rather uncomfortably. Night Strike began to take off of her own suit, shaking her tail a bit to fluff it out after the several hours it had spent wrapped up in rubber.

Aerith stretched as she stepped off of the back of the truck, cracking her neck at the same time Crash Dive and Scouring removed their helmets, both of them taking their own gulps of fresh air. Night Strike yawned as we all made our way indoors, feeling through the hallways of the main complex. The doors squeaked as we entered, the sound of our hooves against the stone floor echoing through the hallways. I stumbled over to one of the beds, yawning as I did so. Off in the distance, thunder rumbled as we climbed into the cots, the old springs squeaking as they took our weights. I buried my face into the pillow, taking a deep breath as I slowly nodded off to sleep. Just a few more days, and we’ll have that plane fixed up...

I can’t wait to get home…


-----

"...and I know we'll meet again, some sun-ny, day!"

"That was the wasteland's sweetheart, the great Dame Vera Lynn, and you're tuned into Radio KAOS on this fine, clear Vanhoover morning. Weather feels like it'll keep up this way for a few days yet, so hopefully everyone out there can find the time to take advantage of it, heh.

"Moving on to today's news, for those of a ghoulish disposition living in the northwest areas, or son't mind a particularly long walk, there's a new settlement being pieced together just up the coast, matter of fact I think I can just make out the bright glow from it all the way over here, heh. Former site of the old Battered-Sea Power Station, now renamed to Glowing-Sea, appropriately enough. One of the tank ghouls of Maple Station, Rangefinder I believe her name is, she got the assistance of all she could find of the Vanhoover Five to help clear out that old bomb crater, and far as I know currently her and her tank Fyre have been working without end to try and make the crater a little easier to navigate, heh. Anypony looking for a place to call their own, well, if you don't mind living in the middle of a bomb crater, Glowing-Sea is certainly now an option for you.

"Speaking of the Five, from as far as I can guess, it seems as though they're all making their way back home today. Last were reported heading south from Glowing-Sea on their newest little toy, an apparently much biger half-track than they had previously, heh. Along with all their usual cargo is also apparently the wing and engine from a, um... ah, Bo-26, I think, so to the pilot whose aircraft was shot down by Hopeville a while back, well, looks as though you won't be grounded for too much longer. Here's to you four of the five, hope the rest your trip is a litle less irradiated, heh.

"You're tuned into Radio KAOS, it's a beautiful Vanhoover morning out there today, and I think I'm feeling in the mood for some classics. For those on the road, finding a new home or heading back to your old one, here's The Wanderer, heh. Enjoy."

---

"Ergh, Tia on a bike, I can't even seen the sub pen yet. You sure you have this thing in top gear?" The sun was hanging high in the eastern sky as we pushed further south, leaving the boot camp and irradiated wasteland surrounding Glowing-Sea behind us. I had my forehooves resting on the top of the windscreen, letting the crisp morning air and breeze catch in my mane and wings as we traveled - woof, after spending all of yesterday cooped up in that suit, it is -so- good to be able to feel the wind against my coat and feathers. You'd have to be some kind of nuts to wear one of those things for longer than you have to... Lookng to Static, a quick glare of annoyance was returned by the earth pony, myself swaying a little on the seat cushion.

"Yes, I'm sure I'm in top gear, or at least as high a gear as I'm willing to go while taking this thing off-road. Remember that we've got at least a ton or two of stuff on this thing's back, and it's a lot bigger than the mini-tank, Strikey..." The Clydesdale dipped a little as it passed over a rather sizable snow mound, the tracks and road wheels catching it smoothly as it moved down the other side. Even then, I still had to brace myself against the window frame as we landed, a notably annoyed grunt coming from Static. "And even though it is bigger and you can put the top down, that's not an excuse for you to be standing up like that while we're moving. Keep your cute flanks on the seat, please."

I let off a huff, leaning against the window frame for a moment longer to get another cool blast across my face. "Psh, fine. But only 'cause you called 'em cute." Dropping back onto the cushioned bench beside Static, the movable canopy that covered the Clydesdale's crew compartment moved back into place in an aura of blue magic, Aerith securing it back in place over us. I let one of my wings stick out the side of the half-truck, still at least enjoying some of the breeze. "So, anyways, ahm... the Valkyrie. When it's fixed, I don't think I can just fly it straight back home."

"Erm, why's that? You want to get back home as much as I do, don't you? I mean, we are probably gonna have to ditch the megaspells to fit the weight of the gold in, but after that it's just a straight shot north until we see NEAMO crater." There was a mildly satisfying thunk as Static's muzzle made the horn beep again courtesy of Crash Dive giving his head a light shove, the earth pony recovering and snapping around to glare at the power armored pegasus. She glared back, and Static turned his eyes back through the glass. "Okay, gold and Crash Dive, too. Still."

"Huh. Starting to make me wonder if I haven't hurt your head one time too many, or did you just happen to forget about the fact that there are still three Harriers flying around with what's left of my former squadron piloting them, and they're quite obviously not beyond razing an entire town for what I can only assume to be shits and giggles." Crash Dive kept that annoyed glare on her face, Static's expression becoming a little less annoyed and a little more horrified. Scouring and Aerith both blunk at each other, before looking to Crash Dive and myself in confusion.

"Er, you talkin' about Bridleshade, or... somethin' a bit more recent?" Scouring seemed the faintest bit worried as he adjusted himself in his seat, Crash Dive leaning back and rubbing at her temple. Neither of them knew about... oh, well, duh, they weren't there and we didn't tell them. Nuts.

"Saddlebrook. Big parallel electrical scorch marks, houses blasted apart by prolonged fuel-air-explosives shockwaves, and a robo-dragon population. Had the pleasure of having to fight one of those while also flying a home-built aircraft at the same time... was a fun few days after you left." Scouring and Aerith both wore furrowed brows as we pressed on, Static weaving the Clydesdale along the shoreline. The few old trench lines and fortifications of the sub pen poked up on the horizon, myself letting off a quiet huff. Okay, they might not've been the reason I was thinking of originally, but, they're still a pretty damn good reason for sticking around. "Apparently a lot of the Vanhoover Air Base had moved there before it was hit, too..."

The cabin was sient for a few moments afterwards as it seemed to sink in, the drone of the massive engine in the front of the half-track filling the air. Static turned us to travel between the two trenches looking towards the north, the concrete walls of the sub pen pockmarked with bullet holes and a thoroughly blasted-through blast door. After a while, Scouring cleared his throat to break the silence, some shuffling of power armor heard. "Aye, well, uh, anyways... So, uh, huh, now where'd you guys pick up a Gauss rifle like this from? Didn't think any of you'd be one for energy weapons-"

"NO! We are NOT having that argument again!" Scouring and Aerith both jumped as I had the little outburst, the faintest hint of a smirk forming on Crash Dive's muzzle. Looking between the alicorn and steel ranger for a few moments, I let off another sigh, falling back in the seat and looking ahead. The beacon of the lighthouse flashed steadily in the distance, my eyes falling shut as a cool breeze blew through the half-truck's cabin.

Almost home, Strikey...

---

"Sweet Tia above, you guys actually stole this thing from Turbine?!" Contrail and Marigold rushed over to the sides of the Clydesdale as we approached the lighthouse, and the one visible and other invisible vehicles resting there. The Pancake sat with the damaged prop removed and laying off to the side, otherwise being largely intact as far as I could tell, with a few odd drifts off to the opposite side partially revealing where the Valkyrie was in all of it's still-tangible self. The pink-maned earth pony stared up as Static passed on a nod, eventually bringing it to a stop between both aircraft.

Marigold hung back a few paces, before eventually trotting up to my side, resting her forehooves on the running boards as I stood up to hop off. A wide smile hung on her muzzle as she looked back at the cargo bed, before turning her eyes towards mine. "You know, I'll admit I wasn't expecting that you'd be able to find what the Seaddler needed at all, let alone in decent condition. It's as if the war never even touched the Seafalke, all those years... Thank you, all of you, so, so much. You don't know how much this truly means to me."

I returned her smile, Aerith and Scouring starting to remove some of the stuff placed on the cago bed, setting it on the ground. "Ah, it was nothing, really, it's just what we do. I mean, we did sorta have to build and race our own flying machine over the course of just a few days, which we also unfortunately had to leave there, but, well, helping ponies, that's what comes naturally." The ghoulified pegasus let off a light laugh, giving her head a shake as she turned and moved to look back over the wing and engine we'd retrieved. I trotted alongside her, one of her old wings moving to wipe at her eyes.

"Hmh, you don't say. It'll take some work to get her fully functional again - had the engines modified to run on steam awhile back, makes sorting out fuel a lot easier - but just having an actual complete engine to work with, home's feeling a lot closer already. If there's anything I could do for you to repay you for this, anything at all..." Aerith trotted around the rear of the Clydesdale, wearing a grin and waving a hoof to get our attention, and beckon us to follow. Marigold returned a look of confusion, a smirk falling on my muzzle as I nodded her along - I've a feeling she might like to see this, if it's what I think it is. I mean, would be a little silly trying to find the main battery leads when you can't see what you're working on...

Contrail trotted up beside us on the opposite side of the half-truck as Aerith continued on to the innocuous-looking drifts a few meters from the shoreline, where the 'minefield' supposedly was. The earth pony pilot scratched at the back of his head, pushing his goggles up to get a better look. "Yanno, didn't really pay too much mind to it a'fore, but those snowdrifts over there... ain't really natural-lookin' are they? You guys have somethin' over there ya didn't tell us about?"

A faint chuckle escaped myself as I caught Scouring and Static looking over the generator mounted on the Clydesdale's cargo bed, the unicorn levitating out a massive spool of cable from a compartment under the deck. Contrail and Marigold both seemed to watch on in confusion, the ghoulified pegasus' expression taking on a look of confused realization as they both watched the end of the wire travel out towards the alicorn. "Heh, well, something like that... Aerith, if you would be so kind."

The alicorn nodded in acknowledgement, before bracing her hooves in the snow and alighting her horn. A bright, brilliant flash of magic filled the air in front of us for a split second, the light fading to reveal the sight of that beautiful triangle-winged jet bomber parked in the snowy field. Here's hoping that leaving her outside for so long didn't cause any worse damage than she already had, eheh... both pilots gawked at the sight of the aircraft, myself lifting a forehoof to gesture towards it. "Contrail, Marigold, allow me to present mine and Static's own aircraft, the only one-of-it's-kind R&G Manufacturing XB/A-1, the Valkyrie. Just kept it hidden for security purposes, this thing is the reason we wound up down here in the first place, and really our fastest ticket back home, heh."

"You... we... R&G Manufacturing, I... sweet Celestia, this thing has been here the whole time!? And it still works?!" Marigold paused for just a moment, before charging forth towards the now-visible bomber that Aerith was dragging the cable over to. Contrail, for his part, only seemed to let his flanks hit the snow and continue staring at the massive jet. Oh, c'mon, it's not that much more impressive than the Dragon Mare... well, than the Dragon Mare was, anyways. Trotting over to meet with Marigold, I found her staring wide-eyed into one of the engine intakes, before climbing herself atop the wing and looking down into the cockpit from above. "This is... that's a Mark 27 Weapons Control maneframe, they only used those on Raptors... twin-linked tesla cannons in a full-traverse turret, too? And those have got to be MWT Bofors in the cheeks by that barrel size..." Her attention turned towards me, eyes wide as she looked down from the right-side wing. "Why didn't you say something about this sooner!? This thing is amazing!"

"You think the outside's amazing, wait till you've seen what this baby has on the inside. We kinda... caused an Empty Quiver alert to trigger when we first arrived, heh." The access door opened with a small hiss as Static and Aerith headed for the underbelly of the Valkyrie with the cable, Marigold hopping down from the wing and Contrail finally pulling his brain back together and trotting over for a closer look. Climbing up the small stairway the door created, I brought myself back into the cockpit, taking a deep sniff of the frigid, stale air and exhaling it in a breath, flopping into the pilot seat. Alright, that little stop-over at the Vanhoover Air Base at least made a few of these things a little easier to understand... how was I supposed to know that 'flaps' on flying machines means things that come out of the wings to provide more lift at takeoff? Like, they could've used some other word for them... 'up-goer thingies', maybe.

Marigold pulled herself into the cockpit next, looking around the cramped interior, eyes wide and mouth agape. A dry chuckle escaped her lips as she turned her attention to the control panel in front of me, looking over it with quite a bit more understanding on her face than I could hope to have. "Damn. This thing's miles ahead of the Seaddler on the tech front, too... I knew that some of those fancy military jets could break the sound barrier, never been inside one before, though. Where'd you take this off from? Fort Mac? Um, somewhere by Stalliongrad, or the Crystal Empire? Or maybe some airbase in Yakyakistan? It's been so long since I've seen something this big that had an airspeed indicator that reached mach numbers."

"Uh... Sunrise Castle Air Base, actually. Few kilometers north of EQUAD and Trotisk, if you know where those are. Somewhere a few degrees away from Topatow, magnetic north." Again with Stalliongrad and the Crystal Empire, Equestria's got some land claims and cities further north than those places, yanno! Hell, if it took Rolling Tracks almost two centuries to get from Stalliongrad to Quebuck in War Mare... and that's a worrying thought, actually. War Mare is a -lot- faster than the TOG... oh, I'm sure she spent some decades helping ponies out in the northern wastes at some point. Just focus and try to remember that a dead unicorn who was apparently Dad's adoptive mother told you while you were lying unconscious and injured from a fuel-air bomb explosion that he's coming to find us.

...you know, now that I've thought that sentence out loud in my head, it really does sound crazy, even for me.

Marigold's eyes seemed to light up as I spoke, another small chuckle escaping her. "Heh, really now... I thought for sure that everything aside from the Inuvik would've been irradiated beyond saving, on the continent. Only had seen those places on maps before, didn't really think they existed, even before the war. Sure are a stubborn species, aren't we?" She rested one of her hooves on the side of the pilot's seat, letting off a quiet sigh and looking at the control panels. Inuvik... yeah, never heard of that place before. Sheesh, the wasteland... the PLANET is a lot bigger than I could imagine. The ghoulified pilot seemed to look intently at the control panel for another moment, before a chuckle of disbelief escaped herself. "That can't be right... that indicator there, beside the four engine temp guages, that says 'VTOL Engine'. There's no way in tartarus this massive thing could be a VTOL craft, I mean... I've seen a lot of military aircraft in my time, hell, I've seen ones ten times the size of this one, only craft that can be VTOL-capable are the Vertibucks and those Harriers."

A smirk came to my muzzle, leaning back into the headrest. Yeah, and a boat as big as the Seaddler could never possibly fly... "Oh, trust me, this thing has VTOL, and it works... well, it worked when we took it off the first time. Granted, I think I remember passing out because we probably hit supersonic in around a second, but I definitely remember us vertically taking off from inside that sub-hangar." Marigold wore a bemused smile and shook her head, chuckling lightly. A small roar could be heard echoing in from outside, myself looking out the canopy and catching Scouring standing beside the generator on the half-truck. White puffs came from the exhaust as he gave a wave and nod over to the Valkyrie, Marigold turning to catch what I was seeing as well. A small chuckle escape me, looking back to the control panel. "Once this thing's repaired, I suppose I could prove it to you. Though, thinking about what trouble it got us into the first time, maybe a traditional takeoff for the first would suit me better... we're gonna need a runway. Crap."

Marigold glanced between Scouring on the half-truck and myself a few times, the clatter of hooves climbing up metal steps signifying Contrail's entrance into the Valkyrie's cockpit. The gasps of astonishment... yeah, pretty much was expecting those. Marigold looked at myself for a few moments, confused. "Repaired? You mean... what do you mean? This thing can repair itself if you hook it to a big enough generator?... Oh, that explains why you asked me about that awhile back..." You know, it is the faintest bit fun to watch somepony piece things together with some thinking. She tapped a forehoof against her chin, glancing around the cockpit. "But, why does it need repairs? It looks like you landed it on it's wheels just fine, at least from the outside."

Sinking into the pilot seat a little, I let off a weak chuckle, rubbing at the back of my mane. The sound of electric fans whirring to life filled the cockpit a moment later, the canopy glass illuminating as code scrolled across it, instruments on the panels flickering to life. After a short boot-up sequence, the lines of code were replaced with red text, along with a... battery symbol. Contrail trotted forwards, Marigold leaning aside as he started to read off the display in front of us, and I... tried to not look guilty. "Multiple mechanical and electrical faults detected: probable cause, crash landin' due to pilot incompetence. Recommended action; find new pilot. Onboard power supply insufficient to operate necessary repair talismans fer critical systems. Please leave chargin' and allow repair talismans t' operate for one week before attemptin' t' take off again... Whoo, least ah had the excuse of gettin' myself caught in a megaspell blast. This thing's so fancy it could land itself, if ya asked it to..."

Marigold's muzzle bore a smug grin as she looked over towards myself, my wings attempting to keep my face hidden. Stupid fancy pre-war bomber jets... "You know, I always thought that pegasi were supposed to be natural-born flyers, including ones piloting aircraft. Don't tell me you're trying to prove me wrong..."

"Hey, in my defense, it was a thunderstorm when we came in! I learned stuff about this piloting thing at the Vanhoover Air Base, I can take her off and land her properly now, without crashing! Probably!" Contrail jumped slightly at my outburst, Marigold releasing a chuckle as my cheeks were almost certainly as red as Minty's eyes. She shook her head, turning to squeeze past Contrail and head for the doorway.

"Oh, relax, everypony has at least one crash. Granted, their first isn't usually inside a pre-war multi-billion-bit experimental jet attacker, but, hey, long as you learned something from it..." The ghoulified pegasus let off a light sigh, climbing out of the cockpit, the sound of her hooves fading as she trotted away. Contrail responded with a weak chuckle, giving a small apology before leaving as well, myself falling back in the pilot's chair as the red warnings hung on the cockpit canopy. What I learned from my first crash of a massive fixed-wing aircraft...

Well, it's an easy way to get an extra-long vacation, for one... thanks, brain.

---

"Good early morning Vanhoover, you're tuned into Radio KAOS, and it is an absolutely beautiful night out tonight, if I do say so myself. Not a single cloud in the sky, no breeze to speak of, and above all a wonderful view of the stars overhead... heh, and the location of Glowing-Sea. Think I have the town's tagline here, 'Largest night-light north of Vanhoover'. Think of all the tourism, guys, heh...

"In actual news from across the wasteland, out of Maple Station comes word that the Seaddler is not long for being a fixture on Hopeville's waterfront now, as the Five have done it again and gotten the parts needed to completely repair the old flying boat, following her being shot down by Hopeville's air defense several weeks ago. Here's hoping you fine stallions and mares don't go and accidentally shoot her down a second time after she's repaired and airworthy again, unless you want the Five to come and take your guns back from you. Your fault for having the trigger-happy ones on the guns, heh...

"Speaking of the Five, I'm quite happy to also report that they're apparently finally on the way to getting their own long-disabled air craft airworthy again. I wasn't supplied with a proper estimate on when they'd have it completed, but knowing them, so long as it doesn't go up in a megaspell-scale explosion, I'd say they've got it well under control. For those of you who operate the anti-air guns in Hopeville, Vanhoover, and Maple Station, I sincerely hope you can recognize the Five's massive black triangle from the Harriers, I know I certainly wouldn't want to be one to piss off a bunch of ponies with a megaspell-armed jet bomber, heh. I'm sure they wouldn't even think of doing something like that, but, hey, better safe than sorry...

"Anyways, that'll be all for tonight, and I'm heading to sleep here. Before I go, here's a nice, short Roger Trotters album, for any of you night owls and early risers wanting something to listen to on this beautiful crisp winter morning - The Final Cut. Goodnight, Vanhoover, and enjoy."

---

I've never really been a morning pony, but there are just some things that'll get me moving no matter the hour. Sparkle-Cola, Sparkle-Cola RAD, the promise of getting to use the TOG's gun for killing bloatsprites... adrenaline. And forgetting to turn off my pip-buck's radio. Somewhere, faintly, off in the distance, somepony was calling something out over the howling wind outside. I couldn't quite make it out, but there was a small pause, before he repeated, yelling angrily - "Oi! Get your filty hooves off my desert!"

Static said something - I think, couldn't really hear him over... that... sound... I know that sound. I've heard that sound before. Loud, whining, roaring, echoing, shaking the tunnel about us, the mini-tank's engine straining to get us to the other end as a metallic shape landed with a heavy thud outside the entrance. I found myself staring at Static's sleeping head on the pillow beside me, the heavy covers over us, but the sound of that jet flying over, and then-

An explosion filled my ears, heart racing and breathing ragged, myself leaping from the bed and letting loose a terrified scream. My wings carried me into the wall of the bedroom with a thud, eyes still trying to put together why everything just looked like our normal room back in the lighthouse while my brain was telling me to try and find somewhere to not die from a massive explosive shockwave, ears really not helping the already entirely confusing matter as a string orchestra played out somewhere. Another few, shorter, panicked screams left my lips, Static sitting straight up in bed, fumbling to get out from under the heavy comforter and over to me.

His hooves wrapped around my shoulders as he pulled me into a hug, the screams stopping and breathing slowing as the info my eyes and ears were sending to my brain finally took precedence. I blunk a few times, looking around, finding myself staring into Static's worried, frightened eyes. Heavy, clonking hoofsteps thundered down the hallway before the door opened with a slam, the force making both of us jump and drawing a quick yelp from me as Crash Dive, Aerith, and Scouring all stood there with their weapons drawn, scanning the bedroom. I'm... I'm fine, I'm safe. I'm not bombed and dead.

Crash Dive scanned the room a few more times before finally relaxing, looking towards myself with fright in her eyes as well. Huh, I don't see that too often... "W-what happened, Night Strike? Why were you screaming like that? Are you alright?"

Shuddering breaths escaped me as I gulped for air, Static's eyes still looking to mine. Slowly, things quieted, and we could all hear the legputer on the night stand emitting music. "...And Luna, over lunch one day, took a cruiser with all hooves - apparently, to make him give it back." It faded into the next song, myself staring at the pip-buck - my pip-buck - resting on the small bedside table.

"I left my radio on... I left my radio on. Heh. Eheh. Eheheh..." Nervous laughter left me for a few moments before I let my head fall to Static's shoulder, pulling the earth pony into a tight hug against myself. My eyes wrenched shut as laughter gave way to tears, pressing against the earth pony and letting the waterworks flow. He gently started to rock myself back and forth as we sat on the floor of the room, rubbing my wings with a hoof and just letting me get it all out of my system. I just left my goddess-damned radio on...

After a short while, I was eventually able to pull myself back together, everyone heading for the kitchen. I guess terrified screams because of a completely rational fear of being bombed is a good wake-up call for everyone else, too. Static gave me a light kiss as he helped me onto my hooves, staying to make sure I was alright for a moment before trotting over to the nightstand. I rubbed at my eyes, wiping away tears and getting the last few shudders out, sniffling in and hearing as the music stopped.

Hoofsteps came back over to me, the blue earth pony wrapping a foreleg around my neck and passing on a reassuring smile. He paused for a moment, looking to the side, before moving over to my duffel bag and bringing out a glowing blue bottle, pulling the cap off and passing the fizzy drink over to me. A few small laughs escaped me as he moved back beside me, both of us heading to the kitchen as the first sip of RAD met my lips. Taking a long gulp, I let off a sigh, staring down into the bottle. RAD helps fine with physical injuries... not mental.

The sooner we destroy those fucking Harriers, the better.


-----

The lights of the kitchen shone in through the open doorframe as I helped Night Strike back to her hooves. Her legs wobbled slightly as she did, her breaths deep and deliberate, eyes watching the floor in front of her. We carefully made our way to the table, Scouring, Crash Dive, and Aerith following behind us slowly. Night Strike slid into the padded bench on one side of the table, leaning back as she took another breath and closed her eyes. I stood beside her, unsure of what to do. Why'd she just start screaming like that?... “Static, why don’t you go outside with Scouring and see how the Valkyrie's doing, or something? I can take care of Night Strike for the moment... just, come back if we call for you.” Crash Dive wore a worried look as she slid into the booth opposite Night Strike, Aerith's magic bringing over some bottles of Sparkle-Cola and setting them down on the table. I looked over to Night Strike, opening my mouth to speak, but unable to think of something to say. She gave a bit of a smile, leaning herself forwards and passing on a nod. Our eyes meeting for a moment, I reached up and gave her hoof a gentle squeeze, before turning to head out of the door behind Scouring.

Sea breeze blew around me as I headed down the couple of steps onto the grassy peninsula. The sun was starting to crest in the east, turning the sky a lighter blue as the last hints of night passed over the ocean horizon. Waves lapped at the cliffs and along the landbridge, the salty smell of the ocean reaching my nostrils as I made my way up towards the mainland. As I crested the hill behind the steel ranger, he was already tending to the cables running between the generator mounted to the Clydesdale and the broken down Valkyrie. Even in the early light of morning, it was clear the repair talismans were beginning to work by the faint glow about some of the electronics in the cabin and the cracked glass of the windshield slowly mending itself. Scouring looked back towards myself as I drew nearer, flipping a panel on the side of the generator shut. “Mmh, well, looks like leavin' her running all night did the trick, think we could disconnect if we had to. Ahm... everythin' alright with Night Strike?"

“Y-yeah, I... I think so. She probably was just having a bad dream or something, probably a flashback to the time Minty tried his hoof at using Cross' Welrod, eheh. Lot of lost Sparkle-Cola that day.” I responded with a weak chuckle, trying not to let Scouring catch the hint of worry in my voice. He answered with a nod, climbing up into the back of the half-truck, where Contrail and Marigold were both waking themselves up. Marigold nodded to me in acknowledgement as I leaned against the big forward drive sprocket for the tracks. “So, ahm, how’re the repairs going for you guys?”

Contrail leaned back on the back seat, stretching his legs out and causing the joints to crack. “Pretty well so far, they sure built the Flyin' Pancake sturdy. Just need t' find somepony to uncurl the propellers an' form 'em back into shape, and ah oughta be able t' take her off again. Heh, were lookin' over the Valkyrie after ya went to bed last night, kind of wish we had some of those repair talismans for our planes...” He sat up straighter, Scouring sitting down across from him. “Also were lookin' over the engine and wing ya got for the Seaddler. Surprised you could actually make that thing run on steam, ah always figured a steam powerplant'd be too heavy to fly.”

Marigold wore a smirk as she sat back, leaning out the side to look at the end of the engine strapped to the back of the Clydesdale. "Never underestimate a bit of pre-war Equestrian know-how. Miracle the anti-air fire missed the reactor, honestly, if that'd been hit... well, let's just see to getting this to Hopeville. We should get there relatively quickly on this thing, right?"

I gave her a small nod in response, looking back towards the loaded bed. “Yeah, of course. We'll set off for Hopeville while the Valkyrie’s busy fixing itself, just gotta disconnect the cables and wind them up. It’s probably charged up by now.” The ghoulified pegasus returned a smile as I turned to follow the long pair of wires leading from the generator to the Valkyrie. Soon getting underneath to the opened bomb bay doors, and the exposed electronics panel, I examined the electronics of the vehicle, my hoof running along one of the wires as I followed it through the tangled mess that lay beneath the hatch. Finding its connection, I took hold of it and gave it a quick yank. The whirring of the mechanics died down to a gentle hum, myself letting off a small sigh and tracing the other power cable inside. Pulling that one free, I was able to close up the maintenance hatch, hearing Scouring shut off the large generator on the half-truck as well.

Rolling the wires up around my foreleg, I trotted back to the Clydesdale and tossed the heap of cable up into the back, the power armored unicorn starting to spool it back up underneath the truck's bed. Looking back towards the lighthouse, I spotted Night Strike stepping out with Crash Dive and Aerith, the three heading up to meet us. I trotted off to meet them, moving myself alongside Night Strike while the others moved on ahead. “Strikey, are... are you feeling alright, now? You just... are you alright?” Her eyes met mine for a moment as we trotted along, breaths condensing into small wispy clouds in the cool morning air. She gave a small nod, catching her breath and putting on a light smile, stopping beside the Clydesdale.

“I’ll be alright, Static. I just... needed some time to calm down. I'll be fine... thanks, though.” She sat in the seat beside me as I hoisted myself up behind the controls of the vehicle, leaning back in the seat. I returned her smile, starting up the engine to the Clydesdale as she turned back around to look at the others. “So, what's the plan of action for today?” Shifting the gear of the machine, I began to trundle forward, turning around to head eastward away from the coast.

“Dropping off the engine and wing for Seaddler, should be a quick trip.” I said, scrunching my muzzle a bit afterwards. Bluh, don’t want to jinx this before we even get started. The engine roared as we drove along, smoothly crawling over the snowy ground as we pushed towards the road. I cracked my neck a bit, my mind starting to wander as we drove along the familiar path towards Maple Station and Hopeville... I could really go for some donuts right now.

---

We slowed as we neared the edge of town, the familiar food stand and Hotel standing before the cluster of buildings making up the small shoreside community. The streets were somewhat busy as ponies trotted about on their daily duties, myself carefully turning to make our way towards the lake’s edge where Seaddler sat. As we turned down the main street while meandering through the town, we passed by the Triage, where a line of ponies stood, all sporting several bandages. One was coughing, spitting blood into the sewer on the side of the street in front of him as he lay on the ground. I came to a stop in front, leaning to look past Night Strike. “What’s going on? You don’t think Pearl accidentally let loose some plague, did she?” Night Strike looked equally confused, the rest of the group on the Clydesdale leaning out of the back to see why we had stopped.

As we watched, the door opened to reveal an even more packed waiting room, the receptionist leaning her head out to call another pony inside. She looked over to see us, a look of relief crossing her face as she rushed out to greet us. “Oh, thank goodness you’ve stopped by, we’ve got an emergency on our hooves!” She stood beside the Clydesdale, one of the injured ponies standing up to limp their way inside. “Somepony’s gone and disturbed a hive of Festering Bloodsprites. Normally they aren't active this time of year, but with how things have been the farmers wanted to try and get an early planting in. They’ve already attacked the farmers working out there, and if we don’t get rid of them soon we’ll have to give up that land for crop growth. We’re already strapped for surplus food as it is, I don’t know if we can handle a hit like that.”

I paused, a little taken aback at the sudden request. Bloodsprites... why do I get the feeling I remember having some bad experiences with those things before? “Ah...” I began, leaning forwards against the steering wheel. Night Strike looked towards myself, giving me a glare that clearly implied if I did anything other than help, a surprise bombing run from the Harriers would be the least of my issues. “Don’t worry, we’ll go clear them out. Any idea where they're coming from, exactly?”

“They’re in the woods to the east, just outside town. The hive’s a bit deep in it, they tend to congregate around swampy areas. Not sure why exactly they moved from the swamps north of Vanhoover, now I think about it.” She muttered the last bit to herself, her brow furrowing in confusion. She shook her head, looking back to us. “Anyways, be careful. These things have already killed a few of our farmers, and I’m not sure how many more the poison might get if we run out of antivenom. Already having trouble keeping up with demand as it is...”

Night Strike gave a confident look, grinning widely. “We’ve handled them before, I think we’ll be ok. We’ll be back before sundown.” I barely contained a groan as I shifted gears and sped off down the street, hoping to avoid any more clichéd dialogue from Night Strike. Seaddler’s new wing creaked against the straps a bit in the back as I ran over a pothole, turning towards the beach where the disabled flying boat still lay. I slowed to a stop, small mounds of sand being pushed up as the Clydesdale sunk into the soft sand of the beach.

I hopped out of the vehicle along with the others, Aerith’s horn already lighting up as she began to help move the wing off of the back. “You know, Night Strike, I get that you really like to play the hero, but there’s a pretty fine line between being confident and being… well, you.” I said, poking her in the side a little. She simply rolled her eyes, Scouring levitating the wing over to the wreck as Marigold flew herself over to the Seaddler, rummaging around inside of it before dragging out a tarp.

“Come on, Static, you can’t tell me you’d like to just sit there and watch them die horribly. Besides, I wasn’t lying, we have dealt with those things before.” She replied, looking back. I continued to look at her, pulling my lips tight. “Okay, so you guys did have Boomer last time, but at least now you won’t be one pony short! Heck, there’ll be two more for support counting Aerith, not to mention that the Clydesdale is pretty good at shielding us in, kinda. It’s no TOG, but, then again, nothing is.” She stuck her tongue out before turning to trot over to the Seaddler, where Aerith was now lowering the engine into place on the tarp under the wing.

“Alright, that looks good.” Marigold said, looking over the new engine and wing resting on the beach. “Gonna need to find a unicorn willing to help get things into place when it's all set, but Contrail and I should be able to get the rest of it fixed up to running condition ourselves. Assuming you guys don’t set off another bomb nearby again, anyways...” She chuckled, opening up her toolbox and pulling out a large wrench. Yeah, we probably should give more of a warning for those things... I mean, we did sort of do that for the Battered-Sea Megaspell, though. Wuh, inadvertently knocking two friendly planes out of the sky is a high enough record for me. The rest of the Vanhoover Five all piled back into the Clydesdale, the tracks spinning for a moment before they caught in the sand, pulling us forwards off the beach and back up onto the road.

We sped alongside the lake, keeping to the shoreline of the town as we made our way towards the forest, the Vanhoover Hydroelectric Dam just barely visible in the distance. Aerith leaned up from the back seat, looking through the scope on her rifle and out the front window, myself letting loose a small huff. She better have that thing unloaded... The trees grew steadily larger as we turned off from the shore and approached the wooded area, the buildings of Hopeville reflecting the sun behind us. Heading down muddy cart paths, we passed by several large partially-cleared fields, tools having been thrown haphazardly to the ground by the farmers and plows abandoned mid-way in snowdrifts. I slowed a little, the engine quieting down as the treads ran over the overturned soil. Night Strike pulled out Thumper, scanning the countryside.

A low buzzing met my ears, and by the edge of the forest I spotted three large creatures skittering about on the ground. One of the festering Bloodsprites hovered in the air for a moment, spinning to spot us heading towards it. It immediately lowered itself to the ground, zig-zagging its way along as the others noticed us as well. Aerith lowered her rifle and pushed towards the side of the seats. She steadied herself on the back of teh forward bench and leaned out of the side of the half-truck, levitating up her tommygun. The spray of bullets kicked up dirt as she attempted to spray the insect down. It deftly avoided the stream of lead, rising into the air, its stinger rising menacingly. With a loud discharge of air, however, it fell to the ground, its innards splashing onto the side of the Clydesdale as Crash Dive fired off a shot from her rebar cannon. The beam had pierced clean through the bug’s abdomen, pinning it to the muddy ground. Its limbs flailed helplessly in the air for a few seconds, before curling up as the beast died.

Scouring pulled out Sunburst and climbed himself onto the cargo deck, the barrel extending as he held the telescopic sight up to his eye. He fired off a barrage of rockets from the deck, the explosions sending dirt flying as I spun the wheel of the Clydesdale, trying to keep the bugs away from the back as best as I could. Aerith let off another burst from her gun, the bullets slicing through the wing of one, sending it careening to the ground where it was finished off by a volley from Scouring. The last bug landed on the windshield, its stinger slamming into the glass. I screamed, turning wildly in an attempt to shake it off. Night Strike leaned off the side with Thumper at the ready, and fired off one of her slugs. The massive bullet smacked into the insect’s side, sending it flying off and leaving a red splatter on the windscreen. The Clydesdale's suspension thumped as it ran over the bug, leaving its corpse bleeding, oozing, and embedded in the soft ground as it twitched pitifully behind us.

I stopped, looking back to the others, though they all appeared unharmed. “Alright, that’s those three. Now we need to take out the hive.” Crash Dive said, matter-of-factly. “You think you can get this through the trees?” I looked towards the forest again, dryly swallowing and getting the Clydesdale moving once more. As I drove to the very edge of the forest, however, it was clear there was not enough room to maneuver through trees. I grumbled, trying to find some path through, though it was obviously a fruitless endeavor.

We all reluctantly climbed out of the truck and trekked into the forest, the others waiting for a moment as I pulled out my umbrella from my saddlebags in the back. The light around us dimmed as we entered, the branches and few remaining leaves blocking out most of the sunlight. Sticks snapped beneath the weight of Crash Dive and Scouring’s power armor as they forged ahead, keeping a look out for any more of the festering sprites. I kept my umbrella clenched tightly between my teeth, not feeling any safer despite the wide array of armaments carried by the rest of the group. I constantly kept looking around, sure I had spotted something darting between the trees from the corner of my eyes, but every time I turned to look, there was nothing in the distance. Eugh, stupid poisonous bugs, why do they have to have that and speed on their side? Nature's really just unfair...

Night Strike slung Thumper over her shoulder, looking off in the distance as we continued our trek. As we moved deeper into the forest, the ground started to dip downwards, eventually leading us into a deep bowl where the trees thinned out. The dirt grew wet and mixed with the slightly melted snow to produce a rather foul smelling muck underhoof, myself rolling up my jacket sleeves some to keep them dry. A low buzzing met my ears the further into the swampy area we moved, me finding myself sticking closer to Night Strike's side. It steadily grew louder, Crash Dive shifting her cannon on her side as she listened for the source of the noise. Not too far from where we stood was a full clearing in the trees, all of us moving cautiously towards it as the buzzing was now almost deafening.

In the middle of the clearing sat a large pile of papery-looking material, large holes dotted about it. Bloodsprites scurried along the surface of the material, in and out of the holes, regurgitating the same material out to expand the hive. Ahem, yeah, that's a whole lotta nope right there. “Uuuuhh, good luck with that guys, I’ll be back at the Clydesdale if you need me.” I said, making to turn back. Night Strike rolled her eyes, grabbing my tail and pulling me back towards the swarm. Well, this is how I die.

“Come on Sparky, this shouldn’t be too bad. We'll just surround ‘em, fire at will. Should be able to take ‘em out easily.” Night Strike said. Oh yeah, this is definitely how I die. She had started to work her way around the clearing, Crash Dive following after her. I grumbled a bit as I looked down at my umbrella, wishing I’d taken along my new stealth armor. At the very least I’d be less likely to be turned into a pincushion if they can't see me... Gripping my umbrella tightly, I waited patiently beside Aerith as Scouring headed around the opposite side of the clearing.

One of the sprites hovered into the air, spinning about as it heard Crash Dive and Night Strike making their way through the brush. There was a moment when it zipped a little closer to the edge of the forest, before a soft thump was heard. I could just barely spot the grenade flying from between the trees and landing among the hive beofre, in an instant, the grenade exploded, sending up an orange fireball and spreading sparks in all directions. The hive went up in flames in an instant, all of the sprites zipping this way and that. The few that attempted to land on the hive flew off moments later, their wings alighting, causing them to fall to the ground and flail about helplessly.

Crash Dive tossed a few grenades into the flaming hive as one of the sprites tried desperately to climb out. The grenades exploded, creating a corona of plasma as bits of flaming paper flew into the air. Rockets soared out from Sunburst to destroy more of the nest, and Aerith let out a spray of bullets into the mass of mutated insects, the festering sprites dropping to the ground in droves. One began to fly towards us, its stinger flashing menacingly as flames burned away at its flesh. Oh, if there was one thing I really didn't need right now, it was these things on fire! I swung at the bug, my umbrella connecting with its thorax. The insect crackled as the electricity ran through it, stunning it for a moment. Aerith levitated her rifle up to its head as it twitched on the ground, firing off a shot and promptly turning the bug's brains into red mist.

I shook some of the guts off of the umbrella, watching as Night Strike fired off Thumper again, this time the muzzle erupting in a shower of flaming flechettes. The white-hot darts connected with one of the few remaining insects, setting it ablaze. The sprite fell to the ground, the muck putting out some of the flames, but doing little to save its roasting flesh. I took a swing at another approaching bug, Aerith finishing it off with her rifle as she pointed her Tommy gun at another.

It wasn’t long before there was nothing left of the hive but a smouldering pile of blackened paper and several bullet riddled insect bodies. I stepped out into the clearing warily, poking one of the bodies with my umbrella. The others gathered around, looking relieved. “Yanno, the next time Minty ever tries to talk up how explosives are a wasteful mess, think I'm going to ask him to take out some hive like this with nothing but Jolts or a plasma rifle, and see how he fares.” Night Strike joked, rolling one of the bug corpses over. I shook my head, turning to leave with the others.

We were soon heading back out of the forest, Scouring shaking some of the accumulated muck off of his armored hooves. I climbed into the driver’s seat of the Clydesdale after wiping my own hooves off best I could manage to, Night Strike pulling herself up onto the seat beside me as the others hopped into the back. The engine rumbled to life and we were soon heading back off towards Hopeville, following the dirt path. The sun was now dipping low across the horizon, any shadows cast by it stretching far across the ground. I spotted the sign for the hotel flickering lightly in the distance, pressing along the shoreline edge of town towards it. The soft glow from the lobby lights greeted us as I parked the Clydesdale in the small alley beside the hotel, Aerith concealing it in a flash of magic. Just like old times...

As we headed inside, however, I immediately regretted doing so. Behind the counter stood Chauffeur once again, the stallion making googly eyes towards myself as he noticed us walk in. I trotted up, trying my best to avoid looking him directly in the eyes. “Ehm, two rooms, mayor said we can have them for free for a month.”

Chauffeur giggled a bit, reaching around for the keys. “It’s been more than a month, silly, and you gave those free rooms to your friend Marigold. But, since you haven't been here in a long while, I suppose I can look the other way just this once, for you~” He slid the keys to me, winking. Trying to not show my blush, I quickly grabbed the keys and made my way down the hall. Night Strike’s grin was obvious, enough that i didn't even really need to see it to know it was there, so I just threw the keys in her face, her muzzle scrunching as the metal bounced off of her nose. Opening the door to the hotel room, I barely had time to walk through before Night Strike let off a small giggle behind me, managing one last quip.

“G‘night you stallion magnet, you.~”


-----

"Good morning Vanhoover, you and I are listening to K A O S, that's Radio KAOS, and I'm bringing you the lovely music from before the bombs, all day, every day, and all the new news from after the bombs with it, heh. To start off this morning, I've got some fresh news out of the town of Hopeville; The Five have done it again, not once, but twice in one day, and I'm not talking about just blowing things up for once... though there was a bit of that, heh. The multi-engined aircraft that was shot down by Hopeville's air defense, the Seaddler, finally is on the road to recovery, with a new engine undergoing a conversion process and new wing being installed as I speak. The owner and pilot of the Seaddler, one Marigold Skies, unfortunately wasn't able to give an on-air interview, but to be honest, I don't blame her too much - can't imagine the sort of work it takes to make old machines like that run like new again. The Seaddler is expected to be in flight-worthy condition later this week, so for all you towns that have the pleasure of owning a lot of anti-aircraft weaponry, please try to not shoot her down again, heh.

"In other news out of Hopeville, a nest of bloodsprites that had been threatening the few farms that support the town has been thoroughly dealt with thanks to the esteemed Vanhoover Five, who I'm quite sure ensured there wasn't anything left of it by the time they finished. The Triage sends their thanks out to the group, as does the entire town of Hopeville itself, I'd assume - keep up the good work guys, wouldn't know what we'd do without you. Certainly have given me quite a bit more material than I used to have to talk about over the last month or two, heh.

"Anyways, it's a cool Vanhoover winter morning out there, and while I still wait for the heaters to kick in on this old warship, let's get some music going. Ahm... heh, lost this one ages ago. Some might disagree, but if I had a choice in it, I think this wouldn't be a bad way to go. Hopefully none of you out there wind up Amused to Death, heh. Enjoy."

---

"Nnnfh, ah, that was nice... mmh... pthew. Ah..." The wet clump of old feather splatted against the marble bowl of the sink as I spat it out, the larger pile off in the garbage bin...'s general area. I'm a busy mare, I've got shit to do. Least I tried getting it all in... oh, but it is worth it for the post-preen feeling. Hell, might have to stop using the TOG's gun for this... Brain, I know we're both stuck in a literally physically inseperable love/hate relationship, but you're talking crazy. Or thinking crazy. Whatever it is you do, firing off neurons crazy? Screw it, I'm not gonna replace the TOG's muzzleblast... but I am gonna start doing this more often back home. Oh yeah...

Picking up the heavy bomber jacket, my forelegs and wings slid easily in through the holes provided, the zipper sliding up and pressing the green button-eyed plushie against my chest. Resting a hoof against the back of the small plushie's head through the thick fabric, a faint sigh escaped me - just kill the Harriers, bomb Cerberus to hell and ash, and then we can finally see each other again. Everything can go back to normal after that... five more days, Strikey.

The door to the hotel room bathroom creaked open, Crash Dive and Aerith both already heading for the door. The power armored pegasus stopped and looked towards myself, wearing a small smirk. "Well, look at you, actually preening by yourself without the help of a tank. Got everything?" I leaned forwards in to the hotel room, looking towards the beds. Ahm... duffel bag, jacket, plushie-dad, Thumper, War Crime, Sparky McStab-Stab... still a stupid name. Yeah, everything seems accounted for. I passed on a nod, Crash Dive returning it and stepping out into the hotel hallway, Static and Scouring emerging from the door opposite.

"Nugh, one of these days I hope I can sleep in this town without having to worry about suddenly waking up in bed with that receptionist..." The earth pony rubbed at his forehead as he trotted out, his saddlebags and umbrella shaking a little as he moved. Scouring let off a small chuckle behind him, the heavy armor whirring with the motions of the unicorn, a soft tinkling of magic shutting the door behind them both. I moved myself up alongside Static as Aerith did the same for our door, us all proceeding back down the hallway to the lobby. "So, that's... two-ish days down out of seven to get the Valkyrie fixed, what're we gonna do for the last five-ish? Head back and load her up with our stuff, I guess?"

"Aheh, yeah, sure, I'm so sure all the stuff we'll want to take back with us will fit in the Valkyrie. You saw how cramped the bomb bay is, and I can't help but feel that what we have is probably beyond whatever the remaining payload capacity of the Valkyrie is. We still have three one-ton megaspells on it, remember." The earth pony shot a quiet glare towards myself as I looked back towards him, coming up to the stairwell. Hmmh, truth be told, that is a bit of a thinker, the Valkyrie can only carry so much... there's also all our ammo, food, things that might not handle supersonic that well, and of course the Sparkle-Cola... shit. We are gonna need a bigger Valkyrie.

"We can take the megaspells out, you know. Ditch them in the northern ocean or something, less of those things around, the better." My hooves met the carpeting at the bottom of the stairwell as Static continued onwards, finding myself frozen in place and glaring at the earth pony, mouth agape. He just... that was... nnyegh!...

"Static! I am astonished you would even -think- of doing something like that, let alone suggest it! For shame..." Stomping over to him, his tired eyes looked back towards me above a light smirk, passing his room key over to the morning receptionist. He let loose a small chuckle, making me stop in my tracks again. What the...

"I love you too, Strikey~" He... he just... ooh, goddesses, the nerve of that earth pony sometimes, really. Aerith leviated over our room key to the receptionist next, the mare behind the counter hanging both of them up as we moved for the exit. As we neared the doors, however, she cleared her throat, speaking up.

"Oh! Um, right, somepony from the Triage stopped by here earlier asking for you five. Policy is that we can't give out room information for security reasons, they asked us to let you know and tell you to head over there at your soonest convenience. Almost slipped my mind, heh..." She rubbed at the back of her neck as Static passed on a nod in acknowledgement, pushing through the doors. The crisp, pleasant air outside met us, snow crunching lightly underhoof as we headed around to the side of the hotel, where we'd parked the Clydesdale.

It flashed back into existence after a quick flare of Aerith's horn, Static hefting himself up into the driver's seat and starting the massive half-truck as the rest of us made ourselves comfortable. The engine roared and tracks clattered as we backed out onto the street, the earth pony turning us to face eastwards, towards the Triage and far side of town. "So, whaddaya think the Triage wants? They might pay us for saving them so much work, maybe... least, that's what I'm hoping is the case. we've got good reasoning behind it, ammo's expensive!"

Hoof met forehead as I felt the Clydesdale lurch into forward gear beneath me, heading for the large hospital at the edge of town. Ah, Static, if you aren't thinking about food or ways to not be seen, it's always bottlecaps with you, isn't it? "How about we actually see what it is first, before making wild guesses? Could be payment, or they could be sick and tired of Pearl, too. Probably would want to pass her on to us." A smirk came to my muzzle as I saw Static shudder, the few ponies trotting around this morning passing by slowly, occasionally looking up to see the massive half-truck.

A unicorn in an unbuttoned labcoat rushed out of the lobby doors as we parked up in front of the Triage, Static shutting off the engine momentarily to make things at least a little quieter. He fidgeted with the small satchel hanging from a strap over his shoulders for a moment, before removing it entirely and just rummaging through it. He looked somewhat familiar... Nurse Laundry, was it? "Ahm... sorry, one moment... a-ha! There they are..." His magic encompassed several bluish-white rods, pulling them out in a bundle from his satchel and holding them out in the air, wearing a smile. We all just seemed to look at her for a few moments, myself kind of wondering where he was going with this...

After a few seconds of deafening silence and confusion, the unicorn nurse looked to the bundle, before letting off a sheepish chuckle. "Eheh, s-sorry, been working with these things so long I kinda forgot that they're not that often-seen by regular ponies. Permafrost arrows, as thanks for helping us with the bloodsprites yesterday. They were originally used for sporting events, we were trying to use the enchantment on them for preserving organs for transplant easier, but, well, the tests just weren't really working out... anyways, um, well, we knew that one of you does use a weapon that fires rebar sort of shaped like these, figured that you'd find some use for them."

Scouring picked up the bundle of arrows in his magic, bringing them over to Crash Dive, who started to look them over for herself. Well, I mean, I guess having some different ammunition types for something like her rebar cannon can't hurt. Static, for his part, wore a smug grin - yeah, yeah, so they did sorta pay us, shuddap. Nurse Laundry turned to head back into the triage, only to catch himself and turn back around again. "Oh! Right, one more thing, um, Dr. Pearl said that you had a special variant of forty millimeter grenades, that seemed to be akin to miniaturized megaspells. While the permafrost arrows weren't designed to be used for medical purposes, we were wondering if we could have a few of the grenades to see about possibly reconfiguring them for healing."

I scratched at the back of my head for a few moments, my still somewhat waking up brain trying to think of what he meant. Forty millimeter mini megaspell grenades... Solar Burst, duh. Brain, get on point, damnit. "Uh, sure, if you think you can do it, go for... wait, -doctor- Pearl?" Looking up at Nurse Laundry from my duffel bag, she only smiled and nodded in affirmation, Static blinking beside me. Well... I mean, I guess it kinda makes sense, but that's still one hell of a promotion she's gotten since the last time we were here. Granted, last time we were here she was stuffing an implant into Static's neck, but... huh.

"Oh yes, she's been quite a great help the last few weeks, especially what with the influx of poisoning victims. Her pre-war medical knowledge has put the triage miles ahead of where we were, we're even starting to get so underburdened we can begin training more ponies. Have had a lot of them showing up saying they want to help others like the Vanhoover Five have been doing, heh..." Passing him over three of the black and golden-painted grenades, he took them and carefully put them in his satchel, passing on a nod. Well, at least being a doctor or nurse is less inherently lethal of an occupation compared to ours. I'm fine with us having that kind of influence. "Thanks, with any luck and Dr. Pearl's help, we should be able to have these reverse-engineered into Ministry of Peace megaspells soon enough. Might even be able to start sending out medical caravans if they're easy to mass-produce, bet not a lot of ponies will be expecting to have their ailments healed in a magical explosion nowadays, eheh..."

The Clydesdale's engine started back up as the stallion from the Triage passed on a wave, turning and trotting back into the large hospital. I leaned back into the cushioned bench as we started moving again, zipping up my duffel bag and letting off a cloudy breath into the morning air. Every little bit'll help, one way or another...

---

"Hah, long time no see, guys. What can I do for you?" The door to Sulfur's Stockpile opened with the small ring of a bell, the gunpowder-colored mare trotting herself out from behind the counter, a smile on her face. We have the day to spend, no reason we can't make a stop-over in Maple Creek... that, and Static wanted to see how much of that maple sugar candy he could get from the mill in town. Credit where it's due, that stuff tastes really good. Aerith trotted beside me, looking over and passing on a light smile.

'Well, actually, was wondering if you had anything interesting in stock, something to the tune of .308-chambered, fully-automatic.' A small smirk came to the alicorn's face, as Sulfur lifted a hoof top her chin, starting to look around her shop. Well, knew that she wanted to stop by for something, didn't quite expect it to be getting half of my other dad's light battle saddle... we followed behind Sulfur as she rummaged, Aerith putting up another sign. 'If you don't have anything like that in stock, we can come back later. Just been wanting an automatic weapon chambered for rifle caliber, my Typewriter works fine against most pony-sized stuff but having a backup that can be reloaded a bit quicker than my rifle while being the same caliber would be nice.'

It took Sulfur a few moments before she saw and read the second screen, a few smaller clip-fed submachineguns levitated in her magic. "Hm, I did have a few Long Automatics in stock awhile back, but I must've sold them off. Probably was to the town guard or something, mayor got the idea in her head that if the machine guns you gave us could protect against aircraft, then having ponies walking around with guns chambered for the same caliber and automatic fire would be just as beneficial. Didn't really have the heart to tell her that these things were way too heavy for most ponies to really handle while firing upwards, accurately, at least..." A sigh escaped her as she set the guns back on the shelves, trotting around to behind the counter. "Still, she covered the costs for the guns in full, so I don't really have much reason to complain. Sorry I couldn't have been more help, aren't really a lot of guns that fit what you're looking for."

Aerith nodded in response, passing on a soft smile before looking about and levitating over two boxes of ammo from one of the shelves. Well, suppose it would be rude to just walk in, ask for something, and then leave without buying or trading anything... 'It's alright, suppose it was a little out there to ask, and it isn't really an immediate matter anyways. I'll just take an ammo top-up, then.'

Sulfur passed on a nod, ringing up the couple boxes, her face slowly changing to something of thinking. "Hm... you know, my great-grandfather was a bit of an eccentric gunsmith, back before the war. Supposedly he went and built his own Stable-like shelter out in the lands between Vanhoover and here, never went to see for myself if that's true. Bit of a dangerous area to explore on hoof..." She let off a small chuckle as Aerith shuffled through her pockets, looking at the pile of caps she'd pulled from them. A frown met her muzzle for a moment, before she unzipped my own duffel bag, retreiving two bottles of Sparkle-Cola from it and popping the caps off of them, adding it to the amount she'd set on the table. Eh, well, it is only four in the afternoon or so...

Myself sipping from one of the bottles, Sulfur took to counting the pile for a moment herself, before putting it into the register. "Now, I didn't really know too much about great grandpa Gunner from granddad, but he did always seem to go on about how they should've left that homemade stable with more of their stuff than they did. I'm half-willing to bet that there's probably at least something clip-fed, chambered for .308, and full auto down in that shelter, along with a lot of other stuff. If you can find it, maybe bring whatever diagrams or weapons you find back to me, would really appreciate it."

I returned a smile, answering with a nod, as Aerith stuffed the few boxes of ammo into her suit's pockets. Well, wouldn't be the first homemade bomb shelter we've been inside, and beyond that the promise of new fun guns is always welcome. Might be a little irrelevant to us considering we're pretty much set on all fronts and are four and a half-ish days shy of having a huge flying jet bomber as well, but, hey, it'll give us something to do. "We'll be sure to keep an eye out for it, then, and bring back everything we can find. You happen to know what we ought to look for far as finding it goes? I mean, we do have around half a week of sitting around to spare now, but, well, Static'd kill me if we were just going off on a wild goose chase."

"Uhm... hm... one sec." Sulfur ducked under the counter for a few moments, rummaging through the contents in front of her, before picking herself back up to her hooves and trotting to the back of the store. Myself and Aerith glanced between each other for a moment, both of us drinking from the bottles of Sparkle-Cola, listening as the unicorn rummaged about. She returned after a moment, carefully carrying a folded-up piece of paper. "Alright, this was hoof-drawn, but I don't think the area's changed too much since granddad came out of the bunker. Should give you a rough idea, beyond that I'd say just be on the lookout for a house's foundation. Think he said it was built into a root cellar or something."

The unicorn delicately unfolded the page, spreading it out on the counter. Aerith held my bottle of Sparkle-Cola - I better not catch her drinking it - as I pulled back the sleeve of my jacket, looking down at my pip-buck. Okay, so if the road is there... coast is there... lighthouse is there, City of Vanhoover sign there, then... that ought to be a good rough guess. A small marker stuck to the map on the screen, myself glancing at the map one last time before nodding and rolling my sleeve back down, Sulfur folding it back up carefully. "Alright, we'll definitely try to find it for you, soon as we can. Least this oughta be something a little more freely accepted than a trip up to Maple Station, heh... well, anyways, seeya around, Sulfur."

Sulfur gave a nod as she trotted to the back room with the map beside her, passing on a smile as she returned from stashing it back away. "'Course, good luck guys!" We both returned her light wave as we exited the gun shop, a gentle flurry of snow falling over the town from the white couds above. The fresh snow crunched underhoof as we made way back to the Clydesdale parked by the mill on the other side of town, the familiar wagon hitched to the back towing hook already seeming to be loaded with a fair amount of packaged maple candies. Honestly, it's like that stallion wasn't even listening this morning...

Trotting around to see the doors, we arrived just in time to see Static pushing another cart-full of packages out the door, some of them already opened and crumbs around the earth pony's mouth. He paused for a moment as myself and Aerith stood in front of him, the alicorn moving a few of the boxes over to the wagon as I kept a firm glare going. Static picked up the opened box and trotted over, grabbing another cookie from it and starting to munch it down, before holding the box up to me. "Mmh, you gotta try these, maple sugar snickerdoodles... erm, something up?"

"Oh, I dunno Sparky, maybe the fact that you've got a literal wagon-full of maple sugar treats might have something to do with it. Were you even listening this morning in Hopeville? The Valkyrie's not gonna be able to carry all this stuff!" The earth pony responded with a roll of his eyes, still carrying the opened box as he headed around the opposite side of the Clydesdale to get to the driver's seat. I followed alongside him on the passenger side, catching up to him as he delicately set the box down on the cushioned bench, pulling himself up.

"I know, you've made it quite clear already. Being a bit of a hypocrite, though, Strikey, I still let you load us up twice with a truckload's worth of Sparkle-Cola, didn't I? This stuff is much lighter in comparison..." Reaching into the box, he pulled out another one of the cookies, takng a healthy bite from it. Okay, yeah, a trailer of Sparkle-Cola would probably weigh more than a trailer of cookies... still, though! "...Mm, besides, we're gonna be here another three days at least, might as well get some food for it. Had a discount if we bought in bulk, and playing the 'one of the Vanhoover Five' card helped a little, too."

A sigh escaped me as I let myself fall back in the seat, watching the light snowfall accumulating on the windscreen and bonnet. Well... fine. At least we have something to do over the next few days, even if it's getting sick on maple sugar and tracking down a homemade fallout shelter... and investigating what that exceedingly familiar sound of a tank engine is doing in Maple Station. Glancing to Static, his hooves were occupied with another snickerdoodle, the Clydesdale still turned off as he stared back in bewilderment. Looking to the end of the street, however, eventually revealed the source of the noise, the familiar muzzlebrake of the seventeen-pounder poking around the corner, followed by the rest of Fyre. Huh...

The tank came to a stop in front of us, the engine rumbling quietly as the driver's hatch opened up, Rangefinder's blond mane poking out of it. She let loose a cloudy sigh, resting back for a moment before hefting herself out to sit on the top of the hull. I hopped down from the Clydesdale's forward bench, trotting over to the honestly unexpected tank ghoul, who passed on a light wave. "Eheh, heya Night Strike. Ahm, listen, I kinda don't want to admit or ask this, but, uh... you guys think you could lead me and Fyre back home? Sort of were following you more than paying attention to the route, aheheh..."

Wearing a weak smile, I joined in her chuckling for a moment, letting it fall to a slight groan. Yeah, going all the way back to Maple Station, that's definitely gonna make Static happy... Speaking of, still wiping crumbs off of his muzzle, the blu eearth pony trotted over to my side, as Rangefinder rubbed at the back of her head. "What's, uh, what's going on Rangefinder? Would've thought you'd be heading back to Maple Station by now, or at least still be doing stuff at the crater, or something."

I gnawed at my lip, wearing a grimace, as the ghoulified pegasus shared my expression. We both glanced around, not really wanting to be the one to break teh news to Static... who figured it out anyways, of course. An annoyed sigh escaped him as a hoof met his forehead, turning and trotting himself back to the Clydesdale. "Of course you don't know the way back. Fine, we've still got time and not much better to do... We'll set off tomorrow, just let us gather up Crash Dive and Scouring, and head to the lighthouse. Celestia willing, by the time we get back the Valkyrie will be fixed... needed to head to Maple Station anyways to see about chartering a train back home."

Rangefinder let off another weak chuckle as she dropped herself back inside Fyre, Static hefting himself back up into the Clydesdale's driver position. My wings carried myself over to the passenger seat, Aerith resting on the back bench and munching on a few of the maple sugar candies herself, the earth pony starting up the half-truck's engine as the tank ahead of us pulled forwards to turn down the next road. Alright, chartered train for hauling all this stuff sans the Valkyrie, that could probably work out fine. Maybe.

Tia, please let the next few days go by without anything else going wrong...

---

"You and I are listening to K A O S, that's Radio KAOS, and this is finally some good news from the weather station located down south in Seaddle, relayed quite graciously to us from our friends at KJR. Their equipment is showing that the surprise blizzard that kicked off two days ago is finally starting to break, and clear skies for a good long while should follow in it's wake. No doubt this comes as a great relief to anybody who was caught traveling in the wasteland when the storm hit, stay safe and warm out there, folks. Have heard from Maple Station that the tank ghouls will be patrolling out to Gemdale and Happy Valley to locate and rescue anypony in need of assistance, so sit tight where you are now and try to hold out.

"This break also comes to the welcome hooves of the Vanhoover Five, who've reported that their mode of transportation, the Valkyrie, will be airworthy at long last. Seeing how they've apparently devoted as much time to helping us as they have looking to get that thing fixed, I can only imagine how annoying this sudden shift of weather was for them, heh. Hopefully they'll be willing to assist in search and rescue efforts soon as they can, Celestia knows having a big eye in the sky couldn't do anything but help out. Good luck, guys.

"You're tuned to Radio KAOS, and as a break from usual programming for the benefit of everyone stuck in place across the wasteland still, we will be largely playing a collection of songs from the Wasteland's Sweetheart, back when she was still the Forces' Sweetheart. Vera Lynn, reminding everyone that someday, We'll Meet Again. Stay safe, and enjoy."

---

"This is Captain Marigold Skies, Flight NC-23A Seaddler, requesting permission for takeoff from the Vanhoover Reservior. Do you copy, HMS Cadence? Over."

"HMS Cadence, Flight Coordinator Fowler responding, we copy you Seaddler. Sky is open, cleared for takeoff at your leisure. What is your planned route? Over."

"Roger that HMS Cadence, will be taking off shortly to land along the shore, nearby the old lighthouse. You can probably guess why. NC-23A Seaddler, over and out."

The radio aboard the Valkyrie crackled as both myself and Static sat inside the aircraft, looking over the instrument panels in front of us. The packed, plowed snow runway stretched out in front of us as I sat up to see out of the cockpit, the bulldozer tank pulling off to the right as it lifted the blade, passing out of view a moment later. Darn well-armored cockpit, can't see a damn thing out of here... Static slipped on a headset behind me, the hum of fans filling the cockpit as the electronics powered up. Okay, second time taking this thing off... screw you, automatic takeoff. "Alright, everything looks fine... let's, well, start her up."

"Bracing myself already. At least if things screw up again, we're facing north this time." Oh, har har. Letting off a sigh, I looked over the console, reading the switches. Hydrogen talismans, on. Primary igniter, engine one, two, three, four, all primed. Throttle at idle, wheel brakes set, area around intakes and exhaust... hopefully clear. Right. Drawing in a breath, my hoof moved for the igniter switch, eyes wrenching shut as I pressed it in and held it. Please work, please work, please work...

A low whine filled the cockpit for a few moments, the sound of the engines spooling up filling the air behind us. They sped up for a moment before settling in at their idling speed, the long breath escaping myself in a sigh as I leaned forwards over the control stick. The Valkyrie lives once again... let's hope I can do a better job of piloting her this time around. Static spoke up behind me as I righted myself, slipping my forehooves through the safety restraints of the seat. "Lights are all in the green back here, onboard short-range radar looks like it's picking up the Seaddler. Should be flying overhead right about... now."

Looking up through the cockpit glass, the white contrails of the flying boat's engines caught my eyes, watching as it circled around overhead a few times before disappearing over our left shoulders. I reached for the headset by the pilot's station, slipping it on and adjusting the microphone a bit, listening as Static scanned through the... um, static. Eventually Marigold's voice came through, both of us listening intently. "Flight NC-23A Seaddler reporting successful touchdown and landing at the lighthouse, will remain grounded for the duration of their flight. Do you copy, HMS Cadence? Over."

"Aye, HMS Cadence copies you, remain grounded until further instructions NC-23A Seaddler. Less things in the sky for these hatchlings to hit, the better." Fowler's voice answered in response, myself taking a breath and releasing it in a long sigh to calm myself down. Just going to be a nice, easy takeoff, circle around, and landing, no harm in that. Just like the test flight back at the Vanhoover Air Base... stay calm, no tight turns, and don't put the throttle higher than you have to to get airborne. That'll work out fine. Static did something with his console to make our radios send out a bleep, Flower's voice coming through again. "Valkyrie, this is HMS Cadence, Flight Coordinator Fowler speaking. Do you copy? Over."

"We copy you Fowler, prepped and ready for takeoff here. Hopefully everything'll go well... um, over." Static piped up over the headset, myself looking at the dials in front of me as he handled it. Engines one through four all behaving similarly, throttle in the left hoof, right hoof on the stick and away from the trigger... alright.

"Roger that, permission for takeoff from unregistered coastal runway granted. Try not to kill yourselves or your fancy jet, eh? HMS Cadence, over and out." Taking a few deep breaths to focus, I straightened myself in the seat, looking out down the runway. Moment of truth... flaps in takeoff position, wheel brakes off, primary igniter circuits all in run setting. Here goes nothing.

My hoof slowly pushed the throttle forwards, the Valkyrie's engines answering with an ever-increasing roar behind us as the entire aircraft began to move forwards. Needles and guages all climbed on the control panel as I kept eyes forwards out of the cockpit, the throttle clearing halfway now. Our speed increased more and more, my right hoof starting to carefully pull back on the control yoke, breathing careful and slow. She's moving... we're moving... I'm actually pulling this off!

Pushing the throttle to full power, there was a slight kick of acceleration, the Valkyrie's nose pitching up off of the snow finally. As the engines whined to full speed, a sudden, loud howling sound filled the air behind us, the bumps and rattle of the roughly-evened runway giving way to the smooth air of flight, the brilliant blue sky growing closer by the second. A sigh of astonishment escaped me as I stared off into the wild blue, resting back into the pilot's seat, just enjoying it for a moment... probably longer than I should have. Pitching us forwards again, my left hoof pulled the throttle back to half, leveling us out over the western coast... I think. Geez, I really miss the Stork, the views from that thing were amazing and not obstructed by annoying fuselage.

A glance to the airspeed indicator prompted me to hit the switch for airbrakes momentarily, the deceleration pushing us both against our straps. Retracting them, we slowly started regaining speed, but at least we weren't at risk for flying clear out of the wasteland anymore... "Passing over the sub pen now, we might want to turn back around, Night Strike. Please try to not crash while landing us this time."

"Don't worry yourself, Sparky, I've got this. Might not have enjoyed it, but I did read over the manual to see how to safely switch over to VTOL. Gonna bring us back and touch us down just like a vertibuck." I wore a grin as the Valkyrie banked around, pulling far out over the ocean before settling on a course heading back towards shore. Static let off a quiet groan behind me, my eyes looking over the control panel. Okay, VTOL turbine primer engaged, flight mode switch underhoof, throttle back to thirty percent. Coming in nice and slow... relatively.

"Yeah, because you have such a stellar record landing THOSE, too. I hope you're being serious... coming up on the shore and lighthouse again now, a hundred meters above the coast." My left hoof flicked the switch, the Valkyrie slowing down horizontally with some swiftness. Giving the nose a bit of a flair, we eventually came to a full stop, the lands of Vanhoover stretching out in front of myself through the cockpit glass. "Alright... um, swing us left a little bit, fifteen degrees, then bring us down. Slowly."

Back hooves pushed against the pedals, the Valkyire responding in kind to Static's request as I eased the throttle back only slightly. We slowly began to fall, floating down almost, the white fluffy snow kicked up by the central turbine billowing either side of the cockpit glass for a few moments before the aircraft settled back down on her landing gear. I pulled the throttle back to idle, switching mode back to level flight and turning off the igniters for the engines, all four shutting down in kind. As silence graced the cockpit once again, I fell back in the seat, letting loose a long sigh. Oh, thank Celestia...

Undoing the buckles, Static's voice came over the headset I still had on, sending a call back out to Fowler. "Hoo... erm, Flight, uh... Valkyire, reporting successful flight and vertical landing back home. Do you copy, HMS Cadence? Over."

"We copy you Valkyrie, magnificent work, could hear those engines howling from here. Remain grounded until further instruction, and congradulations on getting that thing airborne again. HMS Cadence, over and out." A grin stuck on my face as I pulled the headset off, setting it back on it's rack and slipping out of the pilot's chair. The exterior hatch opened with a small hiss, myself jumping out of the cockpit and onto the fluffy ground, a giggle escaping me as the whirring of power armor and clattering of hooves against snow filled the air. I soon found myself mobbed by Crash Dive, Aerith, and Scouring, all three of them wearing wide smiles of their own, just as excited about the flight as we were. It took damn near two months, but by Celestia and Luna above, we've done it. We're finally gonna be able to get back home...

"Uh... guys?" Static's voice came from inside the Valkyrie's cockpit, faint over the excited chatter from the rest of the Vanhoover Five. "Guys?! We might have a problem! Look east!" The earth pony jumped out of the cockpit door, catching himself on his hooves and rushing over to join us, craning his neck and looking inland. The cheerful chatter gave way to concerned looks, Scouring giving a tilt of the head before looking on with Static.

"East? What's goin' on to the east?" The earth pony fidgeted as he tried to get eyes on... something, eventually looking towards myself and Aerith. The power armored unicorn did the same, giving a quick glance back towards the hilly forest. "Must be somethin' over the treeline. You look while we try an' get-" A loud THUMP broke through the air, rattling the trees for a moment before everything went quiet again. Myself and Aerith shared a glance, our wings spreading wide and propelling us both up vertically, scanning towards the horizon. Maple Creek, that's fine, up the stream towards the Vahoover Reservior is Jericho Beach, Clearwater, and...

A mushroom-shaped cloud rising over Hopeville.