//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: Second Chances // Story: Fallout Equestria: The Light Within // by FireOfTheNorth //------------------------------// Chapter Five: Second Chances I had failed. All the ponies that had followed me from Sundale were dead. Sea Brush, Sunbeam, Meadowsweet … and Inkrose. The rest of the North Bank raiders were dead, but at the cost of five pony lives. I was all alone … again. Well, I technically wasn’t alone alone. Note yet, anyway. Flint and Rogue were still alive, and I still considered them my friends, though I doubt they would still consider me a friend after learning I’d ignored their advice and led five of their fellow townsponies to their deaths. I could never return to Sundale, that much I knew for sure. After Inkrose’s death, no more raiders appeared, and I was unmolested as I retrieved all the Sundale ponies’ bodies and brought them inside out of the elements. The raiders’ living area was in the smaller eastern building we’d passed by in our assault on the sewage treatment plant, and it was there that I spent the night. It was an absolute mess, with the walls and floor plastered with garbage and profanities, stained and bloody mattresses piled over and around each other in the remaining space. Eventually I found a room that was not quite as bad, once the office of a supervisor, and decided to bed down there. I piled the filthy mattresses and all the refuse I could out in the hallway before detaching an irreparable terminal from the desk, shoving into the corner, and laying my bedroll on top of it. My mind kept me awake late into the night, my eyes repeatedly flicking to my EFS to check for other raiders; none ever appeared. An hour or two in, I thought to listen to my PipBuck’s radio. I had hoped DJ Pon3 would lift my spirits, or at least offer some comforting words for a pony in such a tragic situation as my own, but Radio Free Wasteland was nothing but static. Enclave Radio was coming through loud and clear, but President Snowmane had nothing to say that could help me. How I envied the pegasi if they truly did live in paradise above the clouds, above the cruelty of this dark world. The SR Broadcast was only static with a comprehensible word few and far between, so maybe I had moved beyond the area in which the Steel Rangers were offering a bounty on me. I was grateful for that, but it still wouldn’t bring back those I’d lost, so it provided little thought at the time. Eventually sleep took hold of me, and I sank into a night of restless dreaming. *** When I awoke, the first task I set to was to put my comrades to rest. It was the least I could do for them. From the aftermath of the attack on Sundale, I knew that the Adherents of the Holy Light had their remains cremated. Other than Sunbeam (who didn’t need to be cremated), I had no idea who did and didn’t follow the cult. To be safe, I burned all their bodies, as much to give them a wasteland funeral as to keep raiders from doing unspeakable things to their corpses later. I buried their ashes outside the wall, near where Meadowsweet had fallen, and I pounded some pipes from North Bank into the ground as markers. The raiders had left plenty of weapons behind, and there was no way I was going to let other raiders get their hooves on them and use them to terrorize innocent ponies. I also couldn’t carry them all to the next settlement I came across, whenever that might be. With a little help from the Stable-dweller’s Survival Guide, I was able to improvise a bomb with microspark cells that fused all the weapons into a glowing slag heap. The only weapons I saved were a pistol and hunting rifle matching the ones I had, and Meadowsweet’s sniper rifle. The pistol and rifle were in poor shape, but the Stable-dweller’s Survival Guide guided me through breaking them down and scavenging their working parts to repair my own weapons. This piece of software was proving to be invaluable to me in the Wasteland. I also grabbed all the ammunition I could carry and destroyed the rest with the weapons. As I left the North Bank Sewage Treatment Plant, the mines I’d rigged up blew the bus at the gate sky-high. If I had to leave the raiders’ fortress, I sure wasn’t going to leave it easily defensible. I headed west, along the road that ran past North Bank, keeping in sight of the wide and polluted river to my left. Across the river was the city of Vanhoover, but I wouldn’t have been willing to swim across even if the Stable-dweller’s Survival Guide wasn’t emphatically warning me not to. I felt I’d have the best chance of finding another settlement in Vanhoover, and my best bet to reach if would be to follow the river until I could find a bridge. The first few hours of travel were fairly uneventful. I kept my EFS up and scanned my surroundings constantly, but I spotted no other ponies, or any creatures larger than a radroach. There wasn’t much to see other than a desecrated countryside free of everything except the rare patch of mutated plants that had found a way to survive. The blackened forest to the north retreated from and advanced on the road as time went on, sometimes overtaking it entirely. Once I came across a collection of homes built along either side of the road, largely intact, but empty of life. Searching them yielded some cans of beans, two bottle of Sparkle~Cola, a few rounds of ammunition for my pistol, and a lunchbox filled with pre-War Bits that was hidden under the floorboards. The Bits had been found by somepony before me, but they obviously hadn’t felt compelled to take what they thought was worthless. If other markets functioned the same way as Sundale’s, I knew I could get a sizable amount of caps for them, though admittedly much less than the number of coins. An hour later, my PipBuck chimed at me to let me know that I had discovered League 29 Fueling Station. I had no clue what a “fueling station” was, but I assumed it was the squat building just off the road, separated from it only by a patch of concrete with the broken ends of rusted metal pipes sticking up in a row. Somepony had lived in it once, after the War, as I found a ratty bedroll stuffed abandoned on the floor of the attached machine shop, and the cash register in the office contained no small amount of bottle caps. Whatever had become of the pony who’d lived here, I might never know, but blood stains against one of the walls suggested they hadn’t left willingly. As I continued west, the forest closed in around me, and red lights began to flash at the edge of my EFS’s range. I spotted none of the creatures the marks belonged to, but kept my pistol ready just in case they showed themselves. As I travelled, I began to feel more and more alone, more isolated the longer it was since I’d heard another pony’s voice. I tried to tune my radio to Radio Free Wasteland, but it was still static, and I still wasn’t in the mood for President Snowmane’s speeches or marching music, so I continued in silence. Disturbingly, though SR Broadcast was no longer available, another station my PipBuck had identified with the same name was now coming through relatively clear. The looped message was identical to the one I’d heard in Vanhoover Sports Center, except that the location specified was the Vanhoover Convention Center. The bounty being offered had also risen to 12,000 caps. All at once, the blasted woods came to an end, and the remains of the road curved northwest, toward a small town. Of the town, only three of the buildings hadn’t been completely flattened. The closest had only one intact story, and only the eastern half remained of the next one, but the third was fully intact, and had had repairs done on it post-War. There was movement around the house, and as I grew closer and heard gunshots, I realized that somepony was in trouble. I searched for my binoculars until I remembered that I had Meadowsweet’s sniper rifle slung across my back. No hills to block my view, I laid low to the ground and propped the rifle up in front of me, centering the house in my scope. A swarm of zombies was trying to get into the house, but the windows had been boarded up except for at the very top. Through the gap, somepony was blindly firing at the swarm of radioactive undead, but their shots weren’t having much effect, and the zombies were beginning to pull boards loose, hungrily champing their rotten teeth at the sight of warm flesh. I carefully fired off three full clips, but more of my shots missed than did significant damage. I’d blown the brains from the heads of six zombies, but I needed to get closer if I wanted to kill any more of them without wasting ammunition. I drew my hunting rifle as I advanced, and once I was in range, I cast SATS, letting time slow around me and the spell guide my shots. Three more zombies fell, and I could now count eight red tics on my EFS. Some of the zombies caught on that I was attacking them, and began to rush toward me. They moved incredibly fast for mindless corpses, but I was still able to draw my machete from it sheath before the first arrived. With one swing of the blade, a body fell headless to the ground, ichor instead of blood flowing from the neck. The second zombie to reach me met much the same fate, its body spasming as it fell onto the first’s. The next feral ghoul unexpectedly shied to the side as it reached me, and my blade cut along its side instead, knocking against ribs and nearly wrenching it from my grasp. I jumped back as the zombie lunged for me, a disturbing choking sound coming from its throat as it tried to bite my face. I swung my machete back up around, but as it entered the flesh of its neck, the zombie twisted and the blade caught on its skull. Realizing the machete was useless to me for the moment, I released it and drew my pistol, firing five rounds at point blank range into the zombie’s forehead. One probably would have sufficed, but I wasn’t taking any chances. All semblance of life left it, and it flopped to the ground. I was suddenly dragged backwards as another of the zombies tried to bite my back and instead got a mouthful of my doctor’s coat. A shot from my pistol blew the zombie’s lower jaw off, and it released its hold on my coat. Pulling my machete free from the corpse it was stuck in, I swung it around and decapitated the zombie behind me. I shook the ichor from the blade before advancing on the house. Only three remained now, the pony in the house having managed to shred the head of one of them with their blind hail of bullets. I slipped into SATS as I held my pistol in front of me and fired in slow motion, two of my bullets passing through zombies’ skulls, and one of them cutting through a foreleg. The zombie with the wounded foreleg didn’t seem to notice, but was unable to support itself and toppled to the ground. Not wanting to waste ammo, I sliced its other foreleg clean off with my machete, and then brought the blade down through the top of its skull. The next moment, I was forced to jump back as the pony within the house fired their gun through the gap again. One of the bullets glanced off my side, but the doctor’s coat protected me from anything more than a bruise. Just what was this thing made of? “They’re all gone! It’s safe now!” I called to the pony inside the house so they’d stop shooting. The gun stopped firing, but I heard nothing from the house, nor did the pony inside make any move to open the door. Hoping nothing had gone wrong, I trotted back toward the house, and the gun promptly reappeared in the window. “What are you waiting for? Move on out of here,” a mare’s voice said forcefully from within the house. “What?” I asked, confused. I could see inside the house better now, through the boarded-up window. Many of the planks were disturbingly loose or missing all-together. The window on the other side of the door was in even worse shape, and the door itself seemed ready to pull free of its hinges with one good shove. If I’d been a few minutes later, this mare would have been overrun by the ghouls, along with the other ponies inside that I only caught glimpses of as they moved around. “But, I saved you,” I protested as my eyes drifted back up to muzzle of the submachinegun pointed directly at me. “And I’m grateful, really,” the mare said, though her tone didn’t convey that gratitude, “But if you don’t leave, you’re going to join the corpses you just sliced through.” “Why? I’m not here to hurt you.” “So you say,” the mare shot back before I could continue, “But this could just be some raider trick.” “Do I look like a raider?” I asked. “No, but maybe that’s the trick,” the mare said, still not firing, but not moving her gun away either, “Or, more likely, you’re a mercenary, and if we let you in you’ll rob us in our sleep.” “I would never-” I protested, only to be interrupted by the mare again. “I’ve heard enough. This is your last chance to get out of here.” Seeing the mare’s pip on my EFS switch begin flashing back and forth between green and red informed me that she was really serious this time, and I turned tail and left. *** I tried to make myself as small as possible as I crouched behind the auto-carriage frame. I shrunk in on myself even more as the stream of bullets passed overhead. Why hadn’t I paid heed to the signs? If I had, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation. After leaving the house, which my PipBuck had labeled Lone Homestead on its map, I continued to follow the road west. After a ways, another road split off the main one and headed north. With my binoculars, I was able to spy a few thin trails of smoke far off in the distance, so I took the side road. After a few hours of travel, I came upon a large factory just off the road. A large expanse of broken concrete was in front of it, just like at the Sundale Power Plant, and the rusted remains of auto-carriages stretched out like a field. Near the factory was a row of identical auto-carriages of a design I’d rarely seen anywhere else. A peeling billboard along the road bore an image of what the auto-carriages would have looked like when they were brand new, along with bold text reading: “The Darter Motors Zephyr. Only 199,999 Bits!” Above the main doors to the factory was a large metal sign that had been largely immune to the ravages of time and war. Within an oval ring was the silhouette of a pegasus in flight, “Darter Motors” emblazoned on the trail behind her. It appeared I’d discovered the factory where the Zephyr auto-carriages were built during the War, and my PipBuck confirmed it when it notified me New Location Discovered: Zephyr Auto-Carriage Plant. If this plant hadn’t been looted already, it would surely contain some interesting treasure to scavenge. According to my EFS, there were no hostile creatures (or any creatures at all) nearby, so I figured it would be safe to enter the building. The door was already unlocked, which momentarily lowered my hopes for what I’d find. Once I’d stepped inside, however, I saw that everything was in more or less perfect condition. There were bullet holes in parts of the floor and some of the assembly line equipment, but other than that, everything seemed exactly as it had been the day the megaspells had fallen. That the door was unlocked and that it seemed nopony had ever looted this place should have given me pause, but I was so excited to see what I could find that I ignored the feeling that something was off. I was over by the line where the engines were pieced together, curiously examining a partially assembled one, when the danger appeared. Red lights around the factory floor began to flash, and the ceiling mounted speakers crackled to life. “Warning: Possible access of proprietary information,” the speakers blared, “As per Company Rule 338, accessing the secrets belonging to Darter Motors without authorization is grounds for termination and/or prosecution. ~One~ employee in the ~engine assembly~ area has not scanned their badge upon entry. You have 30 seconds to scan your badge at the nearest station to prove clearance before security takes action.” It appeared to be a pre-recorded message, with some of the words substituted in by a computer on the fly. I had no badge, so I couldn’t do anything about the message, but I did move away from the engine assembly area and start looking around for a way to get to other parts of the factory. I wasn’t too worried about security, since no ponies inhabited this building anymore. I would just have to put up with the flashing lights until I left, which was a minor annoyance. “Under Statute 7719 passed by the Ministry of Wartime Technology, the theft of information pertaining to Equestrian industry is a capital offence,” a different voice said, “Any non-employee caught stealing company information is considered to be a traitor and zebra sympathizer and will be met with the appropriate level of force. You have fifteen seconds to scan your badge at the nearest station to prove your employee status before deadly force is used.” My EFS began to light up with neutral lights as the sound of clicking came from all over the factory floor. Looking around, I saw machinegun turrets dropping down from the ceiling before moving along tracks and swiveling to point at me. Now I was scared of the security. I dove behind a half-assembled Zephyr and drew my pistol, shooting all the turrets I could see pointed at me. SATS helped with the last few, but it was still close, and I had to roll to the side to avoid the bullets from a turret I hadn’t spotted and place a post between us. All the pips on my EFS were now red, and they were everywhere! Now I saw why nopony had looted this factory. Or, maybe they had tried to. It would explain the bullet holes, and I spied some machines parked at one end of the plant that looked to be made for cleaning. Perhaps they were autonomous too, like the turrets? In any case, the bristles were stained with blood, and the floors were not. If the turrets succeeded in their task, I’d soon be swept up as just another mess. I had to get out of here. When the turret behind me stopped firing, I crawled around the side of the Zephyr and fired at it with my hunting rifle. It turned and slid along its ceiling track, but not fast enough. One of my shots bent the rail it was traveling along, and it became stuck. Another shot hit the power cables that connected it to the ceiling, and its barrel angled down, firing two shots into the floor before going silent. I jumped over the assembly line and grabbed a rolling tool chest, pulling it alongside me to serve as a shield as I made my way over to the doors. I had to pause halfway there and use SATS to take out another turret with my hunting rifle, this one exploding in sparks and wires as my shots pierced the turret mount itself. The tool chest shook against my hooves as the turret on the other side fired repeatedly at it, but I kept going. I finally reached the doors and pushed against them, but they refused to budge. I was locked in. A stream of bullets cut across the floor next to me, and one of the bullets hit my right hindleg. I screamed and collapsed to the ground as blood soaked into my Stable jumpsuit just above the hoof. Forcing myself to roll over, I pointed my pistol at the offending turret. It was taking all of my magical ability to hold my weapon still, so thankfully SATS didn’t require any magic from me. Time slowed to a crawl as the turret adjusted its position on its track. Instead of using the SATS’s auto-target feature, I manually aimed ahead of the turret and squeezed off four shots before time jumped back to normal. Two of the shots missed completely, but the others punched through the rail and created a gap. As the turret continued moving forward, it fell off its track and hung by its wires for a moment, bouncing, before they snapped and it fell heavily to the ground with a metallic crunch. I pulled a healing potion from my saddlebags and drank it down so quickly that some of it ran down my muzzle instead of making it into my mouth. I gritted my teeth as the magic surged through my body and the ruptured flesh of my leg knitted itself back together. It occurred to me with a shock that I hadn’t checked to see if the bullet was still in my leg. If so, it would now be trapped in the newly grown flesh. Thankfully, a quick examination proved it wasn’t, but I’d have to be more careful in the future. The tool chest beside me was holding up surprisingly well to the hail of bullets, so I took a moment to breathe and reassess. I couldn’t get out, at least not through the doors I was leaning against. There had to be a way to turn the turrets off somewhere in the factory, probably in whatever passed for an Overmare’s office. I saw no sign of such an office around me, but there was a set of stairs a short distance to my left that led up to the next floor. Going up would be my best bet at finding a way to get past the turrets. Dents began to form on my side of the tool chest, but I waited until the turret stopped firing to cool down before running away from it as quickly as I could. I kept my head low as I darted toward a support pillar, hoping the magical doctor’s coat flapping behind me would protect me if the turret began firing before I was in cover. I made it with seconds to spare, and quickly slipped into SATS. With a few well-placed shots from my pistol, I was able to take down the turrets nearest to me. As more of them slid into place to get a better shot, I rolled out of the way and scrambled into the cover of an assembly line. Keeping low to the ground and out of the turrets’ sight, I made my way over to another support pillar. Chips of concrete flaked off of it as the turrets focused their fire at me. I looked sideways at the nearby stairs. They were so close and yet so far. Right next to the stairway and slightly away from the wall was an old Sparkle~Cola vending machine whose light had burned out long ago. I had an idea, and grabbed the power drill somepony had discarded next to the pillar. I tried hefting it with my magic, but the tool was very heavy, and my magic still wasn’t as strong as it probably should have been. Using my forelegs, and a little assistance from my magic, I threw the drill across the gap and it landed on top of the vending machine before sliding behind it and causing it to tip out away from the wall. As the Sparkle~Cola machine crunched on the floor, I backed away from the pillar. When the turrets swiveled to aim at my new position, I swiftly rushed forward and leapt for the vending machine, landing behind it. I pulled myself along the floor, broken pieces of glass sticking in my Stable jumpsuit as I did so, but it beat being shot by the turrets. Soon I was safe in the stairwell, where the turrets couldn’t reach me. Sweeping the broken pieces of the vending machine’s window off of me, I headed up the stairs. I had my hunting rifle out and crouched low as I reached the second floor. A short passageway stretched before me, and a turret hung down in the middle, still unaware of my presence. My first shot I fired unaided, and only grazed the turret’s casing. As it began to swivel, I let SATS slow time down around me and targeted the turret’s body. Another two bullets shot through the air, both striking the turret and causing it to explode in sparks and flames. I crept down the passage, keeping an eye on my EFS to see if any other turrets were around. There were plenty of red dots, but it was hard to tell where exactly they were, and they kept moving around, making things more confusing. At least no more turrets interrupted me before I reached the end of the hallway and got a view of the upper factory floor. This part of the factory had much higher ceilings than down below, and high windows covered in grime let in some twice-filtered sunlight. The assembly lines were smaller and closer together, probably because they were covered in much smaller components that the ones downstairs. I could see more assembly lines fitted for even smaller parts on the far side of the room, raised up a level. Railings kept ponies from falling off onto the lower factory floor, and fenced catwalks formed a grid that stretched out over it. Turrets hanging beneath the catwalks searched for me, swiveling around erratically as they did so. Stepping out onto the factory floor just a little allowed me to see that the closed-in portion I’d just emerged from continued up another floor. Set into the wall above was a circular window, just like the Overmare’s in Stable 85, which gave me hope that I hadn’t traveled upwards in vain. The catwalks led to a door on the far side of the window, but before I attempted to brave the turret-filled factory floor, I headed back down the passage and took a side hall. Another turret was waiting for me as I turned down another side passage, but I swiftly dealt with it with my pistol before it could deal with me. A staircase appeared right where I’d hoped it would be, and I headed up to the next floor. There was a turret at the top of the stairs, but it had been disabled a long time ago, and it hung useless from the ceiling. The office was unlocked, and I stepped inside with my pistol ready for turrets. There were no turrets here, the one just outside the door apparently thought sufficient, and I holstered my weapon. The office was fairly nice, all things considered, though the wooden paneling on the lower half of the walls was rotting and the wallpaper on the upper half was peeling. Framed on the walls were sketches and advertisements for Darter Motors auto-carriages. A smaller version of the logo on the front of the building dominated the wall across from the window. A lighter patch of wallpaper below it showed that some other logo had once accompanied it, but it was impossible to make out what it had been. File cabinets lined the wall on either side of the office’s window, all locked. In front of the window was a sturdy metal desk with a terminal bolted to the top. Like the rest of the factory, it still had power running to it, so I booted it up, curious what I might find. As the terminal began to work, I took a seat in the plush chair behind the desk that had begun to decompose with age. I also tried to open some of the desk drawers, but they were locked like the filing cabinets. A trash can next to the desk held some rolled up and crinkled blueprints for auto-carriage parts. I couldn’t understand them, but maybe some scavenger would find some value in them, so I stuck them in my saddlebags. At last the terminal finished booting up, and I could stop trying to find ways to distract myself. I bypassed the login security and searched through the spell matrix until I was able to pull out the correct password. Though uninspired, it made sense: “Zephyr”. I punched the auto-carriage name into the terminal, and was taken to a welcome screen. Welcome, Foremare Beacon. It has been 56,076 days since you have signed in to work. This exceeds your allotted vacation time by 56,072 days. Please file a report with the Vanhoover Office at 722 N. Whinny Street. Sadly, there was no option immediately evident that would deactivate the turrets, but hopefully I would find something deeper in. Plant Functions was the first option of the main menu, but I backed out after it turned out the only plant functions the foremare had access to were related to assembly line equipment and the fire prevention systems. Messages proved to be corrupted, and I didn’t think I’d find anything interesting in Finances, Operating Procedures, Company Policies, or Resources, so I moved on to Personal Memos, which proved to be mostly corrupted, but not totally. 06.22.1344 My first day as foremare of the Vanhoover plant! I’m so glad the new Bosses finally realized my potential was wasted in Fillydelphia and granted me the station I’d been working for. We’re going to be making some real advances in auto-carriage technology here, I can feel it. After the summer sun celebration yesterday, I met with the Darter Motors execs and got a look at the newest design. The Eurus has a much sleeker design than anything we or our competitors have assembled before, and it seems unlike a carriage entirely. I for one am excited to begin building them. They also use an entirely new type of engine that uses liquid coal. If it weren’t for the acquisition, we would never have had access to such technology, and the Eurus would have been much less revolutionary. I’m convinced more and more that the naysayers had no idea what they were talking about. I came in early so that I could get acquainted with the office and make my first note to break this terminal in, but soon the workers will be arriving and I’ll need to address them as their new foremare and show them the new designs. I hope all goes well! 09.18.1344 The Bosses paid the plant a personal visit today. It was very intimidating to have such important ponies trotting around the assembly floor, carefully examining everything. I think they were pleased with our progress, but they of course had many suggestions on ways we could improve. They are visionaries after all; how else could they have climbed so high and so fast? I was surprised when they began to use this terminal as if it belonged to them (well, technically it does). I had no idea that it had the built-in ability to open a private sign-on just by inputting USERS/SPECIAL when booting up. I tried it later, and it seems both of them have a private account they can access from any one of their many businesses, which must be invaluable. Anyway, I’m getting off track. They’ve given me much to do (and pass on to the execs in the city) to improve the plant. I won’t let them down. I’ll prove that I was the right choice for this job, which they must already know for them to commended me. 04.06.1345 Production of the Euruses has come to a complete halt. I must admit that I’m as wary of zebra spies as the next pony, but I don’t know that the new security measures are really necessary. The badge scanning I can understand, but installing automated turrets seems like overkill. The Bosses have assured me that it truly is necessary, as the zebras have not yet managed to perfect auto-carriage technology at the level we have here, and would give anything to get their traitorous hooves on the information. As always, I’ll defer to their judgement, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have my doubts. Along with the security changes, they’ve brought me a more joyful task. They want me - *ME* - to design the next Darter Motors auto-carriage. They want something even more revolutionary and sleeker than the Eurus, and I intend to give it to them. I’ve got one year to create the design, and if they like it, they’ve guaranteed it will go straight to production without Darter Motors review. I’ve already thought of a name for it: Zephyr. 08.30.1346 I’m getting worried. More and more auto-carriage plants across Equestria are being taken over by the Ministry of Technology’s Wartime Production Board. The Bosses have assured me that they’ll never allow such a thing to happen to our plant. I hope they’re right. It would break my heart to see my beautiful Zephyrs replaced with Steel Ranger armor and armored chariots. I’m sure the Bosses are right. They are board members in the MWT after all. 11.02.1346 The strangest thing happened today. The Bosses showed up unannounced and asked to see all the diagrams I had for the Zephyr’s engine and drive systems. Of course I turned them over, but I was a bit skeptical, as I had no idea why they would want them when they surely had copies at both their offices and the Darter Motors offices. They left without explanation, and I’m beginning to think something fishy is going on. Strange signs have been cropping up in all kinds of industries owned by our parent company. I’m not sure I can trust them, and I didn’t tell them about the in-progress designs I have for improving on the Zephyr. I hope this doesn’t prove to be a mistake. 02.11.1347 My suspicions were right! I heard the final news last night on the radio. Our (former) parent company has been charged with partaking in almost every conceivable illegal business practice, and the Equestrian Court moved swiftly to identify all subsidiaries that were without a doubt unjustly acquired. Darter Motors was one of them! As of today, we are a private company again, with no corporate overlords! According to the rumors, fully a third of the company’s subsidiaries were cut free, and the Court is eyeing the rest, but they can’t take any action until the Bosses have a trial. It looks like Flim and Flam’s vacation to the Griffin Confederacy could become a bit more permanent unless they want to have their whole corporation swept out from under their hooves. 07.15.1347 Things are finally starting to get back to normal here. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I had no idea how much our company relied on Flim and Flam’s corporation to stay afloat and efficient. Deliveries are finally regular, and Darter Motors is finally turning a profit again, though they had to close down the Fillydelphia and Las Pegasus plants, and the new plant in Flankorage is only operating at half capacity. It was a rough few months, but I’m sure with the sales of the new models of the Zephyr, we’ll be able to recoup the loss. The old Bosses have yet to reappear in Equestria, and it’s become obvious to me that they knew they’d have to remain away for some time now. A few months before the Equestrian Court moved on them, they quietly moved their corporate headquarters and most of their assets to the Griffin Commonwealth. They’re able to manage their existing companies and continue receiving wealth from abroad, and there’s nothing the Equestrian Court can do about it until they return to the country. The Griffins have refused to extradite the brothers, and Luna’s Government refuses to push too hard for fear that it could cause the Griffin Commonwealth to join the Zebra Empire officially. Flim and Flam have also managed to remain a personal thorn in my side. There appears to be no way to remove their special terminal access without completely wiping the maneframe, an unacceptable course of action, especially when we’re just getting back on our hooves. I’ll have to be content with it lurking there for now, but there’s no way it can stay forever. We need to get somepony in to crack their passwords so that I can reconfigure the security system, at least. The easiest way would be to remove the turrets, but the Darter Motors management approves of them, and replacing them would be far too expensive. For now, I’ll have to put up with these problems and focus on turning a profit on these Zephyrs. 10.23.1350 It finally happened today. I can’t believe it. I suppose the War is over now, isn’t it? It has to be over; there’s nopony or zebra left to fight after today, I fear. I don’t know why I’m recording this down here, perhaps out of habit? Nopony’s ever going to read it. The megaspells have doomed us all. This morning started out the same as any other; it’s hard to believe that it’s the last so many ponies will ever see. I didn’t believe the reports when they came in over the radio. Manehattan was wiped out, and nopony quite knew where the spellfire had come from. I was unnerved, but I held out hope that calmer heads would prevail and Manehattan would prove an isolated incident. I broadcasted the radio message over the plant’s speaker system, which may not have been the best idea, but I felt the workers had a right to know what was going on. The assembly lines slowed to half-speed, but I expected them to pick up again once the initial shock wore off. That was when word came that Cloudsdale had been hit. A darkness fell over the land that I can only assume was due to the pegasi closing up the sky with clouds. I don’t know for sure, since something called CONFIDENTIALITY PROTOCOL activated on my terminal and locked all doors out of the factory. The workers panicked and tried to escape, but couldn’t. I’m also trapped in my office, and I was forced to communicate with them through the P.A. System. I suspect this is all functionality left behind by Flim and Flam that we were never able to remove. Why they would lock all their workers within the building wasn’t apparent at the time, but it is now. They feared a zebra invasion, and they were most concerned with keeping their corporate secrets safe from the enemy. That meant trapping all the workers here at any cost. There were some that were supposed to enter Stable 57 in West Vanhoover, and they pleaded with me to open the doors, but I could do nothing. Things quieted down, but no more Zephyrs were constructed as ponies sat around fearfully contemplating the results of megaspell attacks on Equestria. The radio went silent after Cloudsdale was hit, so there was no way to tell if any other cities had been attacked. Then our greatest fears became a reality. The flash of light was unmistakable, and the roar of the explosion, though muffled by distance, was unlike anything anypony had ever experienced. Vanhoover was hit by a megaspell. The light outside quickly degraded in quality as the shockwave threw debris around in an expanding torrent that couldn’t escape the ceiling of clouds created by the pegasi. Magical radiation levels on the factory flew spiked (my office is shielded), but before they reached a fatal level, another program on my terminal activated: MERCY. The turrets all came online and gunned down the factory workers, which I suppose is a kinder fate than they would have received from the radiation, but I still had to look away. Now I’m trapped here in my office, all alone, with no word from outside. Oh Celestia, what am I going to do! 10.27.1350 Still trapped in the office. The fact that I haven’t died yet means that powerful spells and radiation shielding surround the room, probably put there by Flim and Flam when they bought Darter Motors as a safety net in case the megaspells fell while they were in the factory. When the radiation spiked, a secret panel in the office behind the diagram of the Eurus opened up. Looks like the brothers inadvertently left me with a stockpile of food, Rad-X, and RadAway; a water purifier; two magical energy rifles; and two radiation suits. Well, they won’t be using them, so I’ll take advantage of the emergency kit to keep myself alive. I wonder, are Flim and Flam are still alive? The Griffin Commonwealth maintained its neutrality to the end, but its mercenaries fought on both sides and its businesses sold to us both, so there’s no way of knowing if they were struck by megaspells too. I used to admire the brothers, then I was angry at them for weaseling out of answering for their dishonest business dealings, and now I hate them for ensuring only their own survival and killing off their workers. Wherever they are, I hope they met the same terrible fate they condemned their employees on the factory floor to. 11.06.1350 This will be my last entry on this terminal. I’ve decided that I can’t stay here alone any longer. Last night the turrets became inactive and the door unlocked. According to the latest readings, the radiation outside is harmful, but not lethal, so I should be fine as long as I wear one of the radiation suits. I’ve got one of the rifles and as much food as I can carry, and I’ll be heading north, to Timbervale. Surely something survived there. I have to keep faith that it did, anyway. I’ll never survive if I believe I’m the only one alive in Vanhoover. For the last time, this is Beacon, foremare of the Vanhoover Zephyr Auto-Carriage Plant, signing off. Most of the information in the notes had been things the curious part of me craved to know, but wasn’t immediately helpful. There were a few things that I could apply, though. One was the knowledge that secret accounts could be accessed through this terminal, and that the option to shut down the turrets and unlock the doors could be within them. The other was that there was a stash in this office with at least some supplies, and as I couldn’t see it, I had to assume that it could be opened through these secret accounts as well. Following the instructions Beacon had left, I booted down the terminal, and when it started back up I entered USERS/SPECIAL. SNAKE or OIL? Seeing as there had been two brothers with secret access, I assumed SNAKE and OIL were their account names. I entered SNAKE, and was asked for a password. Like before, I accessed the spell matrix and searched for a password, but this time it was much harder. A very robust security system protected these accounts, and I was threatened with lockout many times. I played it safe, backing out and restarting many times before I finally cracked the code and obtained the password: SSCS6K. To me, it just seemed to be a random assortment of letters and one number, but it had probably had some meaning to somepony long ago. The important thing was that typing it in gave me access to SNAKE’s account. It was structured similarly to Beacon’s account, except that there were a few different options on the menu. One was Disable Security System, and another was Open Emergency Stash, which would do the obvious. Netlink, SOAR, and Project Orthros were less obvious. All three gave me the same response when selecting them: An Error Occurred. Very descriptive. I’d found what I’d come for, but out of curiosity I looked at Personal Memos. It turned out be even more corrupted that Beacon’s notes, but there were still a few that were readable. 09.18.1344 [Site 7-119]: Our venture in the auto-carriage industry is turning out quite nicely. The acquisition of Darter Motors has provided us with the up-to-date equipment and designs that RollsCorp and Dodge Junction Auto-Carriages couldn’t hope to match. I think its high time we combined those subsidiaries into a new auto-carriage manufacturer focused on the south. Perhaps by pooling their resources they’ll be able to overcome the stagnant auto-carriage market there. If not, the factories can always be repurposed, perhaps for government manufacturing. It’s a fundamental truth that we’re only just now realizing. The real market for auto-carriages is in the north, where the weather makes them a far more attractive mode of transport compared to the open-air chariots that will always rule the south. With LeNeigher’s engine design, we’re also taking advantage of the vast reserves of liquid coal that have been discovered here, far more efficient than solid coal (something else that’s been holding back the auto-carriage industry). We’ll sell hundreds, maybe even thousands of Euruses, and they’ll all use the fuel from the refineries owned by Aurora Petrol (a Flim-Flam Company) and drive on the roads constructed with Obsidian Concrete (a Flim-Flam Company) materials. What a fool LeNeigher was, to think that just because he came up with an idea, it belonged to him. The poor stallion didn’t understand patent law a bit, and who can blame two savvy businessponies like my brother and me from seizing opportunity and using our connections in the MWT to file the patent first? He wasn’t the first, and he won’t be the last to face the unstoppable team we make and come out with nothing. Addendum: Got so carried away, I forgot to mention that the new foremare of this site is turning out quite well. Very motivated and performing at 3% above expectations. Additional motivation could increase productivity. 11.02.1346 [Site 7-119]: One more set of designs safe in our hooves. We never thought the MWT board would have the gall to attack us. Of course, if they didn’t have the personal backing of Princess Luna, there’s no way they ever would have *dared* something like this. They claim these new regulations are in the best interest of Equestria, but we know better. The regulations wouldn’t exist unless Luna demanded the board create them, and she has never meddled in the economy before. She’s trying to discredit and discard us, after all we did for Equestria! Taking control of S.O.A.R. from us, we can bear, but launching an attack on our company, on our fortunes? That is too far. The regulations were not even a problem for us, as we were able to slip past most of them without a bump or bruise, but now the board has brought all our infractions to the Equestrian Court, and they won’t be as easy to get past. They say that enforcing these regulations is important to show that the MWT is not corrupt, but every one of them is as guilty as my brother and me. I know the *true* reason they’re pursuing this. They’re jealous of our success. So what if Flim-Flam Co, Inc, Am controls 31% of Equestria’s economy? Shouldn’t it be *praised* how successful we are? Instead, they want to sweep our fortune away. Brother of mine estimates that we’ll lose at least 28% of our company, but at least we’ll still be able to hold on to the majority of our wealth. Another few weeks of snatching up property before anypony catches on, then we’re off to the Griffin Commonwealth. Say what you will about the Griffins, but they know how to appreciate entrepreneurs like my brother and me. From the two readable entries, I was able to discern only a few new pieces of information about Wartime Equestria, and get a glimpse inside the mind of one of Beacon’s former bosses. Flim and Flam; I’d have to remember those names. If they’d been as successful as they’d claimed (31% of Equestria’s economy under their control), I’d be likely to hear of them again. It also didn’t escape me that SNAKE had mentioned S.O.A.R., which I assumed was the same as the menu item I’d been unable to access. According to him, losing control of it was the beginning of the end for Flim and Flam, so hopefully I’d find more information on it on another terminal to help piece the story together. I shut off the turrets before backing out, and also opened the supply cache. With a click, a section of the wall behind me slid away. A light flickered, illuminating the shallow space. Within hung a radiation suit designed for a stallion a head taller than me with an empty hanger next to it. I folded the suit up and stuffed it into my saddlebags, lamenting the small amount of space I had left. But, I wasn’t going to leave behind something that could be extremely useful in the future. Beacon had taken the water purifier and most of the food, but there were still a few boxes of Fancy Foal’s Snack Cakes and a decent amount of rectangular cans. The faded label proclaimed they each contained a “Single Pony Allocated Meal,” abbreviated to SPAM. I shrugged and tossed them into my saddlebags. The ponies on the front seemed to be enjoying the food. A magical energy rifle was propped up in the corner, but all the ammo for it had been taken by Beacon. That was fine; I had plenty of microspark cells from North Bank for it. I might have to consider getting rid of a weapon soon, though; five was just too many to be carrying around. After checking to make sure that the turrets were off and would stay off, I backed out of SNAKE’s account and tried to break into OIL’s. I wasn’t as lucky as the first time, and was soon locked out of the system. Gathering up my loot and grabbing a model of a Zephyr as a souvenir, I left Foremare Beacon’s office and headed downstairs. I stopped at a few first aid stations on the way out and scored bandages and healing potions, before emerging into the Wasteland. I followed the same path Beacon must have followed 150 years ago, heading north towards Timbervale. *** The southern edge of the forest had shot off northwest after my scuffle with the zombies, but now I was within the trees again. I looked around constantly, always worried that a raider might be hiding behind one of the petrified trunks, and acutely aware that my saddlebags were bulging with loot and I had a multitude of weapons hanging from my body. I was, perhaps irrationally, banking on there being a settlement at Timbervale where I could trade supplies for caps. Fortunately, I was right. The town that had once been known as Timbervale was a ruin, most of the houses falling over or reduced to rubble entirely. There was evidence of raider activity here and there, but most of the scars seemed from the past. The sign that had welcomed ponies to Timbervale during the War had bloodstains on it, and bits of barbed wire still clung to it, but it had obviously been cleaned up, and somepony had painted an arrow on it directing ponies to keep moving forward into the town. Here and there, auto-carriages and sheets of scrap metal had been pulled between buildings to form a kind of corridor leading into town. Finally, the modern settlement of Timbervale came into view. The first thing I noticed was the slender triangle of a tower poking up from the center of town, more metal beams crossed down its length. I’d seen a few similar towers out in the Wasteland, most with wires trailing from them, but this one looked different; it looked new. The second thing I noticed was that the wall around the town was not a chain link fence with scrap metal like Sundale; it was made out of logs. The ponies who lived here had chopped down a ridiculous amount of trees around Timbervale, stripped off branches, cut them to length, sharpened the ends, then transported them all the way here in order to protect their town. With such a formidable barrier, it was strange that the gate was sitting open, especially so close to sunset. “Hold up there a sec,” an earth pony mare with a coat of burnished bronze said as she stepped out from behind the wall as I approached. I obediently stopped. She didn’t look like she intended to use it, but she did have a rifle strapped across her back and I wasn’t taking any chances. Through the open gates, I’d seen enough to convince me that this was a civilized settlement and not a raider den, so I intended to play by their rules. I needed desperately to trade and rest up in a friendly town. “What business brings you to Timbervale?” she asked once she’d finished the carrot she’d been munching on when she’d announced herself. I couldn’t help but notice that it looked much oranger than the carrots I’d seen in Stable 85 and Sundale. “I want to trade, and also spend the night within your walls,” I said. “You have any medical training?” the mare asked as she looked me up and down, “Doc Hope could really use some help.” “Just a basic knowledge. I’m no doctor,” I replied. Not good enough of one to save Inkrose, at least, I didn’t say. “What’s with the fancy getup?” the mare asked as she fished another carrot out of a can behind her, “Can’t say I’ve seen many merchants, mercenaries, or scavengers wear doctors’ coats.” “It was a gift from a friend,” I answered, growing a bit impatient, “How many more questions until I can enter the town?” “Oh, you can enter whenever you want. I’m just curious, is all. The name’s Shady,” she said, extending a hoof, “I’m supposed to ask ponies why they’re comin’ to Timbervale and let Peaches know if he needs to keep his eye on them. I used to be a guard, but there’s not much need for that anymore.” “Ponies call me Doc,” I introduced myself as I took Shady’s hoof and shook it. “No, I’m still not a doctor,” I said when she gave me a look that said she was going to ask again. “Alright, alright,” Shady said, waving a hoof dismissively, “Say, want me to show you around the town?” “Sounds promising, but what about your post here?” I asked. “Eh, it’ll be fine,” Shady assured me, “My replacement’ll be here soon to shut the gate and keep watch at night, and nothin’s gonna show up before then.” It amazed me how laid back and carefree this pony was for a guard. Sundale’s militia was casual off duty, but this pony was acting just as lighthearted at work. What made her so confident that nothing would threaten Timbervale while she was away? I didn’t want to pry too much and risk getting turned away, so I trusted her judgement and assumed she knew what she was doing. “Lead the way,” I told Shady, and she flashed me a grin before turning around and escorting me past the gates. I’d followed the main street of old Timbervale to the gates, and the cracked asphalt continued on through the town all the way to the far side where the timber wall stood solid. The metal tower I’d seen from outside was anchored to the road in the center of town, and I could now see that dozens of wires were strung from it to all of Timbervale’s buildings. I didn’t get a closer look, since Shady led me left at the first minor road to cross the street, past a mostly intact wooden house and a dilapidated fueling station like the one I’d seen out in the forest earlier. A few ponies waved at Shady as we trotted past, and I was amazed by how intact their homes were, each one a restored Wartime house. The street soon turned north again, and I got a better look at the structures that made up the town. The construction style was different from those I’d seen in Majikland and old Sundale, but they had clearly been built in the same time period. There were plenty of broken windows, and some exteriors of the homes had been patched and repaired, but they were still in exquisite condition. Empty lots that bore traces of homes showed that not every house had weathered the War and time so well, but the Timbervale ponies had clearly used the materials to their advantage in repairing the other homes. Shady pointed out different points of interest as we trotted north, including a home converted into a weapon shop that I slipped into and sold all the extra ammunition I’d picked up at North Bank. As we reached the northern edge of the community and turned east, I witnessed foals playing in a sprinkler. I voiced my concerns about radiation poisoning to Shady, but she waved them off, assuring me that everything was fine. The cables from the tower in the center of the town were omnipresent, but I began to become accustomed to them and notice them overhead less and less as we trotted along. I did begin to notice, though, that not all of them led to a pony’s house. There were many that terminated at security cameras that stared down at Timbervale’s streets. As we crossed the main street heading east, I got another look at the tower and spotted a few spindly antennas and dishes sprouting from its top. The eastern half of Timbervale was very similar to the west, until we reached the southern edge. In the southeastern corner of the town, all the buildings had been cleared away to make space for a small field. I was astounded by how healthy all the crops growing there were, not a single one wilting or oddly colored. The pond next to it, from which a sprinkler system drew water, was also crystal clear, and when I stood next to it my PipBuck detected no radiation. How could it be that this town had a field purer than anywhere else in the Wasteland and crops healthier even than in Stable 85? “We have a water talisman,” Shady explained when I gave in trying to resist asking, and she pointed toward the pipe that drew water from the pond, where a small silvery disk hung, “I’m not surprised you haven’t seen one before. They’re pretty hard to come by.” I kept looking back at the miraculous field as Shady led me west. How could such a tiny object not only cleanse the town’s water supply of radiation, but also remove the deadly poison from the soil itself? While I was still wondering about the impossibility of this town, I also considered that I had no idea how they had electricity. In Sundale it had made sense, since the ponies there lived in a power plant, but here there was no discernable source of power. These mysteries would become clearer as Shady led me north up the main road. Up close, the metal tower was even more impressive, and it seemed far sturdier than from a distance. The steel beams were remarkably wide, and had been pounded into the ground by some force far greater than a pony possessed. Sitting on the ground beneath the tower was a boxy contraption that hummed softly. A thick bundle of wires ran up from it to a platform a third of the way up the tower, and from there dozens of cables spread out across the whole town and trailed up to the antennas and dishes at the tower’s peak. A bright orange sticker affixed to the cube warned about radiation. “This your first time seeing a microspark generator too?” Shady asked. “Not exactly,” I said as I stared at the power source, which I now realized was remarkably similar to Stable 85’s reactors, “I’ve just never seen one so small.” “Pretty amazing, isn’t it? With the microspark generator, the water talisman, and the decontaminated soil, our town’s pretty well off,” Shady admitted. “But how?” I asked, amazed, “Where did you get all this stuff?” “Lord Lamplight brought it,” a gruff stallion’s voice cut in, and I turned toward him. Approaching from the line of shops that served as Timbervale’s town hall was an imposing peach-coated stallion with a reddish-brown mane. He was easily a head and a half taller than I was, and even Flam’s abnormally tall radiation suit wouldn’t have fit him, due to both height and breadth. The earth pony was stocky, with tree-trunk-like legs and a barrel thick with muscle. His coat was heavy, perfectly suited for cold winters, and a tangled beard grew from his muzzle. His right ear was missing entirely, but other than that he seemed as healthy as a horse. “Showing a new pony our town, Shady?” he asked my companion. “That’s right, Peaches,” Shady said proudly, “This is Doc. He’s come to trade and stay the night.” “Well, we’re glad to have you,” Peaches told me, giving me a hearty pat on the back that nearly knocked me off balance, “Many ponies who come here decide to stay longer than they’d planned. Maybe you will too.” “I don’t know,” I said uncertainly. The memories of what had happened with the last town I’d stayed in still haunted me. But I had to admit that Timbervale looked very promising. Clean water, electricity, good food, and apparently no threats to speak of. “Well, if you’ve any questions, come straight to me,” Peaches boomed, “I’m the de facto leader of the town, so I should be able to help you out, or at least point the way.” “You’re the town leader?” I asked, “What about the ‘Lord Lamplight’ you mentioned?” “Lord Lamplight’s not in charge of the town, though we do owe him everything,” Peaches explained, “About a year ago, Timbervale was a tiny community that cowered inside our wall. Then Lord Lamplight came, and he brought us the microspark generator and water talisman, his magicians cleaned our land of radiation, and he took care of the raider problem permanently. His followers erected the tower here so that we can remain in communication with him, and then he left. We haven’t seen him since, though his followers occasionally show up and trade with us.” “And that’s it?” I asked in amazement, “This pony saves your town, solves all your problems, then asks nothing in return?” “No. Well, sometimes we’ll receive word to be on the lookout for certain supplies when scavenging and we keep them for Lord Lamplight until his followers show up, but that seems a small thing in return for what he’s done,” Peaches said, “Timbervale’s population has quadrupled since Lord Lamplight came, and we’re planning on settling some houses outside of the walls if the trend continues.” “Amazing,” I said, looking around at the happy, healthy townsponies that occupied this settlement. “Well, I’ll let Shady get back to showing you around,” Peaches said as he turned and trotted back toward the town hall, “You know where to find me if you need me.” Shady didn’t have much else to show me, just a few more shops around the tower where I converted the rest of the goods in my saddlebags I no longer wanted into caps. A fancy Wartime hotel built in the same rustic style as the rest of the town was next to the town hall, and still served as a hotel today, though many of the residents were permanent since Timbervale’s population rise. I rented a room for a reasonable price, though one that put a noticeable dent in my caps, and retired to it for the night. The Stable-dweller’s Survival Guide advised me to clean my weapons before bedding down, and I heeded its instruction before laying down on the ancient mattress and falling asleep. *** I awoke some hours later to hooves shaking me urgently. “Wha- what is it?” I asked as I looked at my PipBuck and saw that it was just after three in the morning. “Peaches sent me,” Shady’s voice said from behind me as the shaking subsided, and I rolled over, “We need to get you out of town, now!” “What’s going on?” I asked fearfully as I sat up and reached for the doctor’s coat I’d hung over a chair. “Raiders are at the gates, and they’re demanding we release you,” Shady said, confirming my fears. This again? I cursed the Steel Rangers in my head as I grabbed my saddlebags and slung them over my back. Why couldn’t they just let me be? I suppose that now they knew a pony with a PipBuck existed in the Wasteland, they weren’t going to give up. I grabbed my weapons and strapped them on or slung them over my body. How much would my bounty go up if I managed to make it through this time? “Do you plan to fight?” I asked as I rose, clothed and armed. “Celestia, no!” Shady said, “We’re going to let them search the town, just like they want to, but not until you’re long gone. Come on!” I followed Shady out of the hotel, and as we left the building I looked south. I was surprised to see a large crowd of ponies assembled at the gate, shouting back and forth to the raiders on the other side. I didn’t get to watch for long, as Shady grabbed my hoof and dragged me along north. We headed up and east, until we came upon a house that was tilting at an unsettling angle. Up the stairs we went in darkness until we were in the attic. Shady grabbed a bundle of rope tied to heavy metal desk and pushed open a window before beckoning me forward. “Sorry to make you leave so soon,” she apologized as I began to climb out of the window, clutching the rope close to my body. Down below, I could see ground outside of the wall. “Will you all be okay?” I asked with concern, “Do you really think the raiders will be satisfied with searching the town?” “Don’t worry,” Shady laughed, “Lord Lamplight will set everything right. You’ll see when you come visit us again. For now, though, you need to go.” Best I could, I descended the rope until my hooves were on solid ground once again. I looked up at the window, but I couldn’t see Shady as she pulled the rope back up into the building. Casting my EFS, I spotted the blobs of green and red at Timbervale’s gate and stayed well clear of them as I made my way through old Timbervale in the dark. Soon the town came to an end, as did the lights on my EFS, and I was out in the wilderness of the Wasteland once again. Level Up New Perk: Next Time Can I Carry the Balloons? – You are determined to carry as much as possible, no matter how much your saddlebags may weight. +30 to carrying capacity. Unique Item added: Meadowsweet’s Sniper Rifle Unique Item added: Flam’s Radiation Suit Weapon added: Magical Energy Rifle New Quest: Stallion on the Run – Keep traveling the Wasteland while avoiding ponies seeking the bounty on your head. Barter +1 (12) Explosives +1 (15) Medicine +2 (25) Melee Weapons +2 (9) Repair +1 (20) Science +4 (49) Small Guns +8 (40) Sneak +1 (26)