//------------------------------//
// Fallout 
// Story: Strange Bedfellows 
// by BRBrony9 
//------------------------------//

The bridge of the Emperor's Judgement was alive with movement. Messengers hurried between stations, junior officers handing in reports and monitoring systems as the senior members of the command staff gathered around the holo-map table.

'So it's atomics, then?' General Jahn asked, his arms crossed and his monocle firmly fixed in place. 'They have hit us with atomics?'

'It is confirmed, General,' Lord-Admiral Marcos nodded. 'Baltimare has been struck by an atomic explosion. The precise source is unknown, but presumably they had some concealed warhead ready to detonate, hidden somewhere in the midst of the city, just waiting for us.'

'Then it appears we ordered the withdrawal just in time,' Jahn replied.

'Just in time, but still too late!' Marcos growled. 'How many dead? How many dead because we were too slow to act? Because we were fooled and suckered in?'

'My Lord, there was no way we could have known,' Jahn pointed out. 'The city was defended, we saw their troops on the orbital scans...'

'Yes, and where did they go?' Marcos asked. 'If they found a way out of the city, then where are they now, and if they did not, then why would the Archenemy simply waste their lives like that? Surely it would be far more in keeping with their philosophy to fight for every inch of ground and then detonate the warhead once we were about to achieve victory? That way they would kill more of us over time than they could hope to kill when most of our forces were still outside of the city.'

'I do not know, My Lord,' Jahn replied. 'But we have seen no evidence that any enemy forces managed to leave the city. None of those Xenos maps showed any kind of tunnels out of the city. They could not have simply left.'

'Which just adds to the puzzle,' Marcos grunted. 'Why sacrifice their troops without anything more than a token of resistance around the perimeter?' 

'My Lord,' came a call from one of the Auspex officers. 'We are picking up an increase in background warp emissions.'

'Keep an eye on it,' Marcos ordered.'How are the radiation levels?'

'Levels around the city are high, My Lord,' the officer explained. 'We are tracking the smoke plume and drawing up a plot of the predicted fallout zones. I'm transmitting it to the holo-map now.' The display on the table changed to show an overlay of a cigar-shaped area marked in red, stretching from the city of Baltimare up to the north, covering most of the eastern side of the main valley, the eastern mountain peaks, part of the western fringes of the coastal plain, and extending up into the northern wilderness. This was the track of the fallout cloud. Different shades of red denoted the different expected levels, with the highest concentrations in the centre of the plume.

'If the winds continue, My Lord, the fallout will reach the city of Canterlot in approximately one hour,' the Auspex officer informed him. Marcos looked at the map. There was Canterlot, right under the darkest red section of the track; where the heaviest fallout was expected.

'Then we had better warn the princess,' he muttered. 'Vox! Make contact with Lieutenant Atter in Canterlot. Flash traffic.'

'Yes, My Lord!' the vox officer called, putting through the signal to the human spotter team based in Canterlot, where they had been providing sterling service as interlocutors between the human and pony high commands. 'Putting you through now, My Lord.'

'Do you think these ponies even know what radiation is?' General Jahn asked wryly.

'I don't know,' Marcos replied. 'But if they don't, they are about to receive a crash course in it.' The vox-link at his command lectern crackled into life.

'This is Lieutenant Atter. Receiving you loud and clear. Go ahead, My Lord.'

Marcos strode to the lectern and spoke into the vox. 'Lieutenant, no doubt you saw that flash away to the south. The Archenemy has detonated an atomic weapon in Baltimare. You are to seek an immediate audience with the princess and inform her that fallout is heading your way and is expected in Canterlot within the hour.'

'Yes...yes, My Lord...' Atter replied, his worry audible in his voice. 'The princess is...'

'I am already here, Lord-Admiral.' Celestia's voice came through the link, smooth and calm as always. 'I saw the flash and I imagined you might have an explanation. 'Pray, tell me, what is an atomic weapon, exactly?'

'Ah, Your Highness...' Marcos was not entirely surprised to hear her voice, as she seemed to have her finger- or rather, hoof- on the pulse of most goings on, and she was not one to be fooled easily. There was no point in beating about the bush or trying to sugarcoat the issue with half-truths. 'Atomic weapons are a class of explosive device that utilise the energy released by splitting the atom...that is to say, the smallest component of matter. This release of energy can be harnessed to create a tremendous explosive force.'

'And this weapon has been used on Baltimare?' Celestia asked. Once again, there was no point in lying to her.

'Yes, Your Highness,' Marcos replied. 'The Archenemy has seemingly detonated one of these devices rather than fight for the city. We do not know why.'

'And what is this fallout you speak of?' the princess asked. 

'Are you familiar with the concept of radiation, Your Highness?' Marcos questioned. 'The electromagnetic spectrum?'

'Yes,' came the simple reply, which both surprised and did not surprise Marcos. Though pony science seemed relatively primitive compared to that of the Imperium, they had demonstrated plenty of knowledge in various areas, especially, for a species that claimed to be peace-loving, in warfare. They clearly had not advanced far enough to harness the power of the atom for either peace or war, but many of the principles of the way the universe worked were obviously apparent to them- particularly odd since their reliance on 'magic' seemed to run contrary to such beliefs. 

The concept of magic in human history had been used to both oppose science and promote religion by means of fear and misunderstanding; fear of technology and progress for the former cause, and fear of magic itself for the latter. Those who displayed such talents- psykers, as they later became known- had long been shunned and castigated by humanity, and yet here was a species, like the Eldar, who embraced it wholeheartedly. Magic ran through their society, their very structure and soul. Or at least, that was what they called it. The ponies had chosen to follow a leader who had united their race under her banner through the twin weapons of intellect and power, psychic power to be precise, which was exactly what the Emperor had done with humanity. 

'Then you are familiar with the concept of ionizing radiation as well, Your Highness?' Marcos asked, receiving the same reply from Celestia.

'Yes...so these atomic weapons release ionizing radiation, and that is what is heading our way?' Celestia answered, once again impressing Marcos with her awareness, both of scientific matters and of warfare.

'Yes, Your Highness, I am afraid that is the case,' Marcos replied. 'You and your scientists are aware of the dangers posed by ionizing radiation, I take it, in which case you will have no doubt as to the course of action to be taken, which is the course I am going to advise you to take. Everyone in the city of Canterlot should take cover, preferably below ground, although I realise that might be difficult given the geography of the city and its location. Basements and cellars, sewer and utility tunnels, all would be ideal hiding spots. There is little time to arrange such things, but the radiation will settle all across the city. It will look like snow, perhaps, or volcanic dust, which you are no doubt familiar with.' Marcos could not resist a small dig at the pony assault on the Hive which he had not been informed about beforehand.

'And how long should we remain below ground?' Celestia asked.

'It depends how much fallout actually lands on the city,' Marcos replied. 'But I would suggest that no less than one week would be a good initial estimate. The potency of the radiation deteriorates with time, and...'

'The half-life, yes,' Celestia interrupted him, and in doing so impressed him again with her knowledge of science that, it had seemed, should be beyond Equestrian society. 'So all those who cannot protect themselves from the radiation should be moved below ground for a minimum of one week?'

'That is correct, Your Highness. That would be my minimum recommendation,' Marcos answered. 'It might perhaps last longer, but we can monitor the radiation levels from here in orbit. Be assured that we will keep you updated as best we can, although our team with you will have to go underground as well, where vox reception might be spotty at best.'

'Fear not, Admiral,' Celestia replied. 'We ponies may not have your technical expertise or scientific advancements, but we can survive even where you may not expect us to.'

'Be that as it may, princess, do not take this threat lightly. If you can take cover somewhere, do so,' Marcos cautioned. 'The fallout will remain dangerous for some time, but we will send a cleanup team to assist you.'

'Can this radiation be removed by the use of magic in the same way that the so-called Daemonic contamination could?' Celestia questioned.

'I do not know, Your Highness. Since we have only limited exposure to your...magic, it would be impossible for me to speculate,' Marcos replied. 'But it cannot be destroyed by heat in the same way that the Daemonic contamination can, so do not risk lives by attempting it.'

'We will not, Admiral,' Celestia assured him. 'I shall inform everypony to take shelter, and I shall provide space for your personnel here.'

'Thank you, Your Highness. That is appreciated,' Marcos replied. 'We will keep in touch through vox wherever we can, and keep you updated on the progress of the fallout.'

'Very good, Admiral. And Admiral, can you tell me exactly what has become of Baltimare?' the princess asked. Marcos glanced over at the holo-map and at the Auspex consoles which were receiving vid-images and still shots of the ruined city from above.

'I am afraid it has been destroyed, Your Highness,' Marcos replied. 'Nothing could have been done to prevent the detonation of the atomic weapon. We did not even know the enemy had one in their possession. I am sorry.'

'As you say, Admiral, it could not have been prevented, it seems,' Celestia responded. 'I appreciate that your men put themselves in harm's way to attempt to capture the city, and I thank you, and they, for that. I hope that your casualties were not too high.'

'As do I, princess,' Marcos replied grimly. 'As do I.'




The street ahead was coated with debris. Bricks, dust, an entire three-storey stack of scaffolding which had collapsed from the side of a factory building and been spread across the road along with the wall it had been attached to. A great, soaring chimney had tumbled down like a giant tree trunk, shattering into a thousand pieces upon striking the road and the roof of a warehouse opposite through which it had crashed. The Salamander, however, was able to force its way through, crumbling brick and flattening metal beneath its treads. Major Halix stood in the command position, one hand resting on the top of the heavy bolter that was mounted atop the vehicle, in case any enemies should spring forth from the ruins as they passed by. It was unlikely; they were traveling through areas that had already been cleared by the advancing Imperial forces before the retreat had been ordered. They should, in theory at least, get a clear run out of the city and to a safer location on the grassy plains that began at the edge of the outskirts.  

There were bodies here and there, guardsmen, identifiable by their uniforms. Some were from the Parvian Lancers, but there were others from the units that had been operating on the Lancer's right flank. These unfortunate souls had been crushed under debris, or simply thrown from their feet to strike their heads or have their bodies battered against some immovable object. They had heeded the order to fall back, but had never made it to safety. There was no way of knowing how many others had suffered the same fate. All Halix knew was they he, and the few survivors in the vehicle with him, had been spared such an end, and how they had to make sure they did not suffer a more prolonged, agonising and terrible fate by succumbing to radiation poisoning. 

The industrial district through which they were moving would, in safer times, have made for a fairly interesting walk from a human perspective. It displayed every facet of pony technology and society quite clearly, from the purposes of the buildings which now lay shattered on either side of the street. A brewery here, a carriage makers there. A cloth wholesaler, a bottling plant, a brickyard, and a large sign proclaiming Finest Sporting Goods which now lay propped up against the smashed remains of a chain-link fence. There was no time to investigate or to ponder. The smoke plume hung above them like death's dark grey cowl. Fallout was surely starting to fall at some points across the city. Halix had tried again and again to contact somebody over the vox, but the interference from all of the ionising radiation, along with possible damage to the antennae or the vox set itself, precluded it. He could not get through.

Neither, here, could the Salamander. Up ahead almost the entirety of a four-storey warehouse had collapsed, slumped across the road almost casually, like a stack of child's toy bricks that the petulant youngster had flailed at in their anger and sent tumbling. The remainder of the building, still standing, looked skeletal against the sky above. The driver brought the vehicle to a halt. There was just too much debris in their path, and no way through.

'We'll have to backtrack,' Halix ordered quickly. 'Go back to the last junction and turn left.'

'Yes, sir,' the driver replied. He threw the Salamander into reverse and backed up over the cracked cobbles and took the turn, heading to the left in the hopes of bypassing the downed structure. Here, there were power lines down across the road, their supporting poles snapped like twigs by the force of the blast. There was more debris strewn about, and an overturned Chimera personnel carrier, its engine still throbbing incongruously, like a tortoise on its back trying in vain to right itself. The body of the vehicle was dented and smashed. Evidently it had rolled several times after being struck by the blast. Halix ordered a halt to check for survivors, and jumped down from his perch. 

The Chimera's hatches were all closed, including those to the rear troop compartment. The infantry would have most likely dismounted before the blast, and would have been accompanying the vehicle on foot as they continued to advance. Whether they had climbed back aboard for the retreat or not would soon be answered. Halix gave the handle to the rear hatches a tug, and they swung open. He peered inside, but the troop compartment was empty. The commander and the gunner lay slumped together in a pile, while the driver could only be seen after crawling inside. He was covered in blood from a severe head wound. Halix checked on each of the crew in turn, searching for a pulse. They were all dead.

Halix wanted to test out the Chimera's vox, but the handset was missing, ripped from its cradle during the violent excursion the vehicle had taken from its tracks. He climbed back out onto the street and hopped aboard the Salamander, ordering the driver to get moving once again. At the next junction, they turned right, and then the next right again, bypassing the collapsed building. They came down by the other side of the ruin, where a particularly unfortunate Leman Russ tank could be partially seen, protruding from beneath the tons of concrete and steel that had dropped upon it like the wrath of the heavens. Even a main battle tank like the Leman Russ could not stand up to such a heavy weight landing upon its roof. The barrel of the main gun jutted out, bent halfway along its length by a heavy chunk of concrete smashing into it.

There were dead men, too, scattered around the street, but more importantly there was a clear road ahead. It was wide enough for the Salamander, and mostly clear of debris thanks to running parallel with the blast wave, meaning the collapsed buildings that lined both sides had collapsed away from the road. Halix ordered the driver to press on, and they made good progress, passing fallen warehouses, collapsed factories and empty lots strewn with rubble from neighbouring structures. Halix ducked back down into the crew compartment to check the Radiac reading. It was rising steadily. Though there was no sign of visible fallout in the form of rain or ash-like particles falling, the insidious nature of radiation meant that it could be all around them, upon them, without them even knowing. It was like a scientific version of the native Changelings that inhabited this planet and had already seen to the death of Lord-General Galen, among others. Even if they had not killed Major Harding themselves, they had certainly usurped his appearance and made use of his identity to sickening effect.

The Salamander rumbled on down the street. The industrial district gradually gave way to the suburban outskirts of the city, with single and two-storey houses. As they were farther from ground zero, the damage here was lessened, but the structures were also considerably weaker than those industrial buildings they had passed. Being mostly made of wood, many houses had collapsed entirely, while others very close by had suffered little more than superficial damage, with windows broken and roof tiles stripped. There were trees and power lines down in the road, but the Salamander rolled over them with ease, taking them ever closer to safety. They had made enough lateral progress that they were no longer beneath the centre of the fallout column, but merely grazing the edge of it as it streamed away to the northeast. What was more, they were approaching Phase Line Alpha.

Halix scanned the terrain ahead as the buildings gave way to open country, and was relieved by what he saw. There were friendly forces, some in the familiar colours of the Parvians. There were Chimeras, tanks and a few Salamanders from other command or scout units. There were even a couple of Basilisk mobile artillery vehicles, which had been holding position at the Phase Line anyway to support the attack if needed. There were men. Lots of men, and women, of the various units who had been assaulting the city, and who had made the ragged retreat from the blast zone out to the safety of the meadows. 

The Salamander pulled clear of the city and Halix ordered a halt as they reached their fellows. He climbed down from the vehicle and took a look around. Guardsmen were all around, a heartening number of survivors. Many of them looked dazed, in shock at what they had seen and experienced. Others were wounded, being laid out on the ground and cared to by the medicaes and first aid trained squad members. Some of the tanks and other vehicles showed clear damage; dents, dings, missing pintle mounts and smashed optics, all caused by the blast wave or its side effects as debris was hurled at them like missiles. 

Major Halix looked for someone to report to, a superior officer, whether from the 40th Parvian's Regimental Command Company, or from some other unit entirely. With the vox unusable he had no idea who had survived and who had not. For all he knew, he was the 40th's ranking officer. If his command unit had been caught and nearly wiped out by the blast, who was to say that the Regimental commander and his entourage had survived? They might be lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Although, if that were the case, the commander of the 1st Brigade would take control as he had seniority, being appointed Major and Brigade commander long before Halix. But if he was dead too, then...

There had been momentary chaos, madness unfolding on the streets of Baltimare as the great shockwave had roared through, but now there was an eerie calm, a quiet. No gunfire, only the sound of the Salamander's engine until the driver shut it off. The men were regrouping, trying to catch their breath after such a shattering experience and the loss of so many of their friends and comrades. All the while, high above them, the plume of smoke and radioactive dust formed a fearful backdrop as it was carried out to the northwest, heading for Canterlot.




Princess Celestia had ordered the sirens sounded across the capital. Those that had survived the occupation and the battle for the city wailed their mournful signal out across the rooftops, another reminder that the war was not yet won. By themselves, the sirens did not signal that ponies should take cover specifically underground, nor did they alert the defenders to the exact nature of the threat they faced. There was much muttering and murmur between guardsponies and soldiers; a mistake? A test? They wouldn't test the sirens like that, not during wartime. A foul-up was always possible, of course, but they had to assume it was real. In the absence of specifics, ponies manned the walltops and the perimeter guns, scanning the approach roads for signs of enemy contacts. They had seen the flash, far away to the south, but they did not know what to make of it. It seemed highly unlikely that something so far away could affect them. although the sounding of the sirens so soon after was rather a coincidence, some noted.

Shortly thereafter, messengers were hurriedly sent out from the palace, Pegasi with strong wings, to carry the alarm to every corner of the city. They were equipped with loudhailers, and shouted the message.

'By order of the Princess, everypony is to retreat to the palace catacombs immediately! Everypony is to retreat to the palace catacombs, immediately!'

The broadcasts had the desired effect. Ponies on the walls, ponies in the streets and in buildings, all heard the alarm. A rapid exodus began from the outer districts toward the palace. The gates were flung wide open, and civilian and soldier alike funneled into the palace grounds. Guardsponies guided them into the building and down into the tunnels and dungeon corridors that lay below. The Pegasi messengers made sure that the human contingent of guardsmen assigned to the city got the word as well, and down they went, below the surface, into the rock of the mountainside. They did not know why they were going underground, and there was much speculation as to the reason.

A Changeling attack, some surmised. But then why would they not be standing and fighting to protect the walls? The threat of a human attack from orbit. But then why would the humans have been invited down to safety as well? What else could it be? Nopony knew, but down they dutifully filed. A command from the Princess was a command from the Princess, and it must be obeyed, even if one did not know the reason why. All would become clear.

And so it did, once everypony was underground, crowding the caverns underneath the palace. The Pegasi messengers, having shouted their alarm around the city, rapidly checked likely places for somepony to be who had not heard the call, and then retreated to the palace. With everypony down below, the palace gates were sealed. The sentries fell back to the palace and sealed the doors. Finally, the entrances to the catacombs were closed and barred.

Princess Celestia ordered everypony, or at least all those who could fit, to assemble in the largest of the subterranean chambers. There, she addressed them.

'Ponies, do not fear. I have been informed by the human commanders that the flash that many of you will have seen on the southern horizon was the result of an explosion in the city of Baltimare, which they are currently besieging. They inform me, and I in turn am informing you, that this explosion has released radiation. That is to say, an invisible energy, invisible particles, which have the potential to be extremely harmful to life. Enough exposure will prove fatal. The humans have stated that these particles are being carried by the winds towards Canterlot. Therefore, as a precaution, I have ordered everypony below into the catacombs, where you will all be safe until the threat has passed. This may take some time, perhaps a week or more, the humans inform me. But I say this to you all. You will be safe down here, and when the threat is gone, we shall emerge, stronger and more determined than ever. What say you?'

A great roar greeted her words in affirmation, and filled the chamber. Her ponies were not downhearted; they were defiant.