//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: The Rider of Storms // Story: Fallout: Equestria – Icarus // by MuseoSansPony //------------------------------// Lightning struck somewhere outside the bar.  The resulting clap of thunder shook the bar, knocking over a bottle of whisky from the shelf behind the bar.  The bartender reached out with his magic, but he was too late.  The bottle crashed to the floor, spilling its contents.  He grumbled something under his breath and levitated over a heavily used broom and dust pan to begin cleaning the mess. The door clattered open noisily, drawing my attention to it.  A stallion entered wrapped in a similar assortment of damp rags as the last group, but it was his muscular build that cued me into his gender.  However, I couldn’t determine his race. What is up with this rag look? I wondered. Personally, I prefer an old equestrian raincoat or my current trench coat. “I’m sorry for the loss of your father.” The bartender called from where he was cleaning up.  His words distracted me from my observation. Based on the hoofsteps, I figured the new occupant had headed to a table. I sighed heavily and took another long pull from the bottle of wild Pegasus.  The bartender grabbed a sparkle cola and a fancy buck cake in his magic and brought it over to the new guest. The new pony waved him away with a hoof and the bartender came back to the bar setting the items on the counter. “So, who was that ghoul anyways?” The bartender asked levitating the glass to the trash and moving to wipe up the spilled liquid. “I never found out actually.” I admitted, “I was interrupted in my pursuit.” “Right, right, by the mare with the lever action rifle, right?” He asked. “Who was that?” “Ever hear of Storm Rider?” I answered his question with my own. “Who hasn’t? She is a living legend!” He gushed, “You met the Storm Rider?!” “Yep.” I replied nonchalantly. “What was she like?” He asked, abandoning his cleanup altogether. “Kind of bitchy.” I stated, “but well meaning.” “Ah, well I’m thinking she’ll pass through here eventually. I do hope to meet her one day.  So why did a  wasteland legend hunt you down?” “Funny enough, it had to do with Cap’s old associate, Wrexler, who we had left alive and some old grudge Storm had with the Enclave.” I explained, “I was getting to that part.” The Bartender opened the sparkle cola and took a sip as I returned to recounting my tale. ***  ***  *** “Ficha, this is not Cross, either of them.” The mare said angrily to her zebra companion. “Are you sure, the tip said–” the Zebra – Ficha – began. “Unless either Cross had a sex change, I’m pretty sure this ain't one of them.” She interrupted, finally lowering her weapon. “Now that I think about it, Wrexler never mentioned a gender.” Ficha admitted sheepishly. Wrexler? I recognize that name. I thought as the gears in my head turned trying to place the name. That was the zebra we left alive at the bank! “You took the word of a slaver?” I asked, finally finding my words. The mare simply deadpanned, “Ficha, you idiot.” Not wanting to chat in the doorway any longer, I moved back inside.  The mare and the zebra entered as well.  As she entered she glanced at the pipbuck on her hoof, likely checking I was alone. Now that they were inside I got a better look at them.  The mare’s coat was a dull grey and her mane was stark black. Her eyes seemed to almost glow blue.  Her cutie mark was a set of crosshairs, which seemed fitting because I assumed she was some kind of bounty hunter.   She wore a single jacket that had been mended and repaired several times.  It didn’t look like it was very good armor, but it looked at the very least warm. Ficha did not look that different from any other zebra I’d seen, which at this point was only Wrexler, and even that had been at a distance.  Is it racist to not be able to tell zebra’s apart? I thought as I lingered just a little too long on the one uniqueness he possessed: a lack of a cutie mark, or whatever passes as a cutie mark for zebras. As I pondered how he had grown up without finding his special zebra talent, another thought worked its way into my mind.  He does have a very nice flank. “Like what you see?” Ficha asked with a smirk, breaking my gaze from his flank and inciting a small blush on my cheeks. “Once you go Ficha, no others can please ya?” he purred and the mare whacked him across the face with the butt of her rifle. “You can’t just be satisfied verbally molesting mares, now you have to set your sights on stallions?” she nickered. “Is anypony safe?” “Hey,” Ficha recoiled from the hit, “I can’t help what ponies want.  Sorry, kid I’m not into stallions anyways.” This was not the conversation I wanted to have right now. I thought my blush deepening.  Mercifully, a thud on the upper floor killed the topic. The mare moved to the stairs and looked at her pipbuck, “Shadow?” She received no answer and this seemed to piss her off, well more than she seemed to already be.  A moment later a grey, pegasus stallion descended the stairs.  He was still in his very much intact power armor, though it was an older model than my own. “So, are the Cross sisters here?” he asked in a voice that sent a spark of recognition into my mind. I know this dashite! That voice is so familiar?  But who do I know that is a dashite aside from myself and my dad? I pondered, trying to place a name to the voice, Well Cap said his dad had one as a slave named Radar, but I never met him.  Then the stallion took off his visor, he and I shared a similar look of recognition when he did.  The pieces finally fell into place, The Cross sisters? I had a relative who was betrothed to one of them...Uncle, uncle... “Uncle Shadow?” I asked. “C-Cumulo? I haven’t seen you since you were a colt.” Shadow replied, coming to the same realization I had, “Fuck, what happened to your wings?” I mentally facehoofed, Of all the shitholes in all the wasteland… ***  ***  *** “Shit.” The mare stated flatly. She had eventually introduced herself as the wasteland legend, and surfacer terrorist, Storm Rider. When I’d finished telling them everything that had happened since leaving the academy.  Shadow’s wings twitched at the thought of not being able to fly ever again.  Ficha just sipped a mug of coffee and listened silently. “Well, that settles it.” Storm declared, “The Cross siblings might not be here, but this Operation: Cauterize sounds like bad news.  We stay until it’s stopped.” “Storm dear,” Shadow cooed, “We need to get back to Lever Action.” To her credit her, her resolve seemed to waver.  From the sound of things, Shadow and Storm were a couple and this ‘Lever Action’ was their filly or colt; effectively my cousin.  I wasn't quite sure how Ficha fit into everything. “You’re right.” she sighed, “But we can’t leave this how it is.  You head back east.  I’ll be along a few days once Operation: Cauterize is dealt with.” “No, Harmony will keep her safe.  This is Enclave business, I’ll stay too.” Shadow replied, suddenly changing his mind. “No offense, but you have been out of the Enclave for 5 years.” Ficha spoke up, “Cumulo recently left.  He is a better resource.” Shadow slumped under the weight of the truth. “At least take my armor,” he insisted motioning to the still repairing hunk of metal I called my own armor. I shook my head, “BONK is still in there and can’t easily be transferred.” I stated, “And without wings, my armor is better suited for me.” “Don’t worry so much.” Storm interjected, “I’m one of the biggest badass’s in wastes, I’ll be fine.” She ended by kissing Shadow on the cheek, a seemingly uncharacteristic action from what I’ve observed.  The two headed up the stairs for some alone time before they parted ways.  I took the time to finally put my armor on incase any other uninvited guest stopped by.  When the HUD booted up, BONK was sipping a pixelated mug of coffee by a pixelated fire.  She really hates to be left out, I thought playfully.  She did a spit take, dousing the digital fire. “When did you get your bones set and healed?” she asked, pulling up the biometric monitoring again, “See, your legs and ribs have healed, and the concussion is almost gone.  Did that coffee have healing properties?” I honestly didn’t know since I had never had the liquid before, but I highly doubted it.  Then I remembered something from the crash – chalk it up to the healing concussion. “BONK, what were you trying to tell me before we were shot down?” I asked, “The screen you, not the hologram.” “The screen me is the real me.  That screen is...or was tied into my mainframe.  All others were temporary copies.  Though how I am now and back at Black Pepper was my base program.  Same goes for the bridge computer screens.” BONK explained, missing my question entirely, “Anyways, I had intercepted an encrypted radio signal.  I’d  already acquired the one your armor could read, but this one was new.  I required permission to decrypt it.” I mentally facehoofed.  Hindsight had me realize the radio signal used for the Enclave would have changed after somepony was MIA.  Or perhaps something had gotten through when my armor shocked me before Safe Harbor and they were being cautious.  Had I decrypted that signal, I could have learned they planned on attacking.  I could have prevented the Sugar Sprinkle from crashing. No. They simply would have shot us down for refusing. My mind interjected, the outcome would have been the same. “Can you still decrypt it?” I asked, returning from my thoughts. “Yeppy yep!” BONK squeed, materializing one of her digital suitcases. Though probably just for my benefit, she fished out a decryption progress bar.  In a moment, it was decrypted and added to the list of signals I could tune into. I switched to the radio feature.  The MAS-EBS signal was still on top of the list.  I was tempted to see what the DJ was reporting on, but felt spying on my former comrades would be more beneficial.  The old Enclave signal was dark, confirming they no longer used it.  I selected the new signal and sat on the couch to listen. “I’m very disappointed in you Lieutenant.” General Updraft’s voice boomed, “First you let that Dashite scum go, now you say the pipbuck you took from his father is empty?!” “Y-yes s-sir.” Daybreak stammered. The pipbuck was empty? I thought as I waited for Updraft’s response. Had my dad deleted it?  It occurred to me that in the short time I had possessed it, I had only dealt with the radio feature and never checked any of the files.  Looks like Operation: Cauterize is still on hold. “All you thunderhead unicorns are is incompetent.  I don’t know what Sargent Windsweep ever saw in you.” Updraft barked. Daybreak made a soft whimpering noise over the radio.  It sounded a whole lot like crying. “Lieutenant, you are dismissed.  I’ll inform you of your punishment later.” General Updraft replied unsympathetically, with a note of disgust, “Put on the Admiral.” There was a loud thumping before Admiral Fiery Flight came on the radio, “General?” “I want you to put all available scouts on the search for Cumulo” He ordered. “Yes sir!” The admiral responded. “And please tell me you have some good news.” The general finished. “Yes, we managed to isolate the archanotech’s energy signature.  It was fired another time just outside the city.  Based on the concentration of its unique magical radiation, it was only a day prior to the one that hit the cloud cover.  There is also ancient traces of it out by the salt flats.” The Admiral began. “Does that help us track it down?” The General asked impatiently, “These mud dwellers are too dim to comprehend this weapon.  It will come in handy for Cauterize.” I gulped hard at his statement, only hoping that the talk button wasn't active.  The image of a small army of pegasi decimating Salt Lick with hundreds of Secada’s Wraths came into my mind.  The ponies down here could never stand up to that kind of magical power! “We can.” Stated the Admiral, “We’ve tracked a more concentrated amount of the radiation to the Airship Museum.  The Locals call it ‘Safe Harbor’.  The Rapture can be there in a day, though the main cannon is still out of service.” “Good, very good.  I’ll meet you there on the Cyclone in a week.” Updraft stated, “Then we’ll wipe these Dashite harboring tribals off the map and take the arcanotech for ourselves.” At that final statement, I shut off the radio and stood up.  I looked around the room for my new companions.  Storm was smoking a cigarette out on the stoop, and Ficha was sharpening a crossbow bolt. “We need to go, now.” I ordered them both. Ficha put the bolt into the crossbow and stood up, Storm grit her teeth so hard it cut the cigarette in half.  The smoldering half fell to the ground and was put out by a puddle. “Prove you can lead, then I’ll follow.” She spat, her short alone time with my uncle not lightening her mood one bit. “The Enclave are going to wipe out Safe Harbor in a week!” I barked back. Standing up, she slung her rifle strap over her shoulder.  She pulled out a battered box of cigarettes and a lighter from her jacket, removed one of the life shortening sticks, lit it and returned the box and lighter to her pocket.  She inhaled and exhaled slowly, letting out a puff of smoke as she did. “We go to Safe Harbor then,” she replied around the burning cigarette, “but not because you ordered me to.  We are going to save the settlement from the attack.” At that, she stormed out into the street followed closely by Ficha. Sighing I too joined them, pondering to myself what I’d tell Cap, Looker and Action when I got there. ‘Sorry for breaking your moral code and crashing the ship.  I know you're mad, but I know now that you were right.  Also, the Enclave are preparing to wipe out this settlement because of the super weapon I left here.’ Yeah that will go swimmingly, I deadpanned to myself in my thoughts.  I need to think of something better before I get there. ***  ***  *** “How,” Storm panted, “How far is this Safe Harbor?” “Uuuuh,” I hesitated, catching my own breath, “I’m actually not sure, I’ve only been there once.” Storm fumed at my response.  We’d been running non-stop for several city blocks, and were finally slowing down to take a break.  Even a pony in peak physical condition would be winded after that run...well maybe Rainbow Dash would still have pep in her step.  Strom was more winded that I was, a fact I attributed to her smoking habit.  There was a distant rumble a few blocks away, and Ficha headed over to see what it was. We were rushing to make it back to Safe Harbor to give them time to act on the news.  Safe harbor may not be in immediate danger for another week, but it was a fairly big settlement, it could take a week to fully evacuate or prepare an offensive. “You said a navigation computer is in your armor and you're not using it?!” she panted, breaking me from my thoughts. I mentally facehoofed at that. “BONK, are we going the right direction?” I asked sheepishly to the pony sprite in my vision. BONK yawned and looked back at me. Has she been sleeping? “No.” she said flatly, “I thought you were taking the scenic route, so I figured I’d get some rest.” I balked at the computer program, which happened to also be in the direction of Storm.  Thankfully, she was taking the chance to smoke another cancer stick and was not paying attention to me. “I mean, I don’t need sleep, but you all seem so peaceful while doing it.  So I figured I’d try it.” BONK said cheerily, “Turns out it is pretty boring.” The complexities of this malfunctioning program of a pony continued to perplex me.  I wasn’t in the mood to see if virtual ponies dreamed of electric sheep, I had to get to Safe Harbor and BONK was wasting time. “Can you map out the quickest route back to Safe Harbor?” I asked, ignoring the previous stream of thoughts. “Where?” BONK asked, feigning innocence. I mentally facehoofed, I forgot BONK prefers prewar location names, despite knowing what we mean with the post-apocalyptic renames. “The Airship Museum.” I said though gritted teeth. “A day and a half’s melon on hoof iiiiiiiiiin...” BONK began, a map marker appeared on my HUD, begrudgingly in the complete opposite direction we had been heading, “That direction.” At that I physically facehoofed. “Opposite direction?” Storm nickered. “Yeah, a day and a half’s melon – Journey – in that direction.” I replied. “Remind me to not leave you in change of directions again.” She deadpanned, “That was a long enough break, let's move out.”  she paused and looked around. “Wait, where’s Ficha?” BOOM...ZEE, BOOM...ZEE, BOOM...ZEE, BOOM...ZEE! Something mechanical was making its way down the street.  I turned to the mechanical monstrosity that looked like an ultra-sentinel had been haphazardly tacked on to the rear hooves of a ponytron.  Mounted on the top half of it was a terminal with a single pink line on it.  On top of the terminal itself, were two jagged pieces of metal that looked like horns.  A hodgepodge of rusted metal formed a cage on its chest.  In it was an unconscious – or at least I hoped he was just unconscious – Ficha. The missile launcher on its side fired a shot directly down the street at us.  I froze up, and only at the last second did Storm tackle me out of the way.  For an unarmored mare, she sure could pack a powerful punch.   The missile soared past us and impacted the street, showering us with dirt and pavement.  In truth, my armor would have protected me, but on the case that a giant robot doesn't surprise the shit out of me in the first place, I prefer not being hit.  The robotic behemoth reloaded another shot. “THAT WAS A WARNING SHOT, ZEBRA TERRORIST!” the robotic voice of Steerinko bellowed as the line on the machine’s terminal oscillated like soundwaves, “SURRENDER OR DIE!” That was a warning shot? I mentally asked, then I remembered what security program we were facing. Of course he counted a near point blank missile to be simply a ‘warning shot’. As Steerinko advanced on us, I noticed the plasma cannon, and the grenade machine gun accompanied the missile launcher.  A loud thunk signified another missile being loaded into the launcher as Storm tossed her crumpled cigarette to the ground and stood up.  She looked at the monstrosity as it aimed its next shot.  Was she seriously going to attack it? “We surrender.” she stated, unslinging her rifle and dropping it to the ground.  She then turned to me and whispered, “We don't stand a chance against that thing, we’ll find an opeing for escape later.” I nodded in agreement as Steerinko extended wiry tendrils from just below the monitor and picked Storm and I up.  We were dropped unceremoniously into the cage as the robot began to move back down the street it emerged from. ***  ***  *** Footnotes: Cumulonimbus: No Status Changes Looker: No Status Changes Cap Stash: No Status Changes BONK: No Status Changes New Temporary Companions: Storm Rider – Level 36 Ficha – Level 45 Storm Rider and Ficha will accompany you until the completion of the Dashite Redemption quest line or they die. Quest Started: Dashite Redemption – Warn Safe Harbor about the impending Enclave attack. Steerinko’s Revenge – Escape Steerinko...again.