Fallout: Equestria - To Bellenast

by Sir Mediocre

9. Diplomacy, Part 2

The worst of the storm had moved on, but snow fell in a constant, windy flurry, limiting visibility beyond the wall of the city to within a few hundred meters. The sky was grey and dark, the fields were white and smooth, and buildings along the frozen river stood out only by virtue of the lanterns at their doors and their docks amid the ice.

All this, I saw through the slight lensing of a transparent bubble tinged with violet light. The bubble did not stop the cold wind or snow, but lead and spellfire would be hard-pressed to defeat it.

Ammo boxes the size of a fully grown pony, stacks of them, sat in neat rows in the cold field; the brass peeking out from those containers revealed two primary calibers, long cartridges that seemed fit for a large rifle or machine gun, and shells the size of my horn that had to belong to the arrays of light cannons on the machine’s upper facings. Simple rockets and guided missiles, in skeletal racks and sealed pods, lay next to them. Loose shells for a cannon stood in three stacks between the missiles and machine gun boxes. The shells were as long as one of Night Cloud’s legs and as wide as a bottle of Sparkle-Cola. Some gleamed with the polish of newly-pressed brass, and some wore the dull brown patina of centuries spent in a magazine without ever meeting a breech.

The machine itself—himself—waited silently before the gates of Bellenast, one hundred or so meters distant, on six wheels. One of those ancient wheels, laid on its side, could encircle an equally ancient oak tree twice over.

Maximillian was, by my reckoning, nine or ten meters tall, at the top of what could be called his head: A broad dome whose most prominent feature was a protruding, swiveling array of three large lenses, two the size of a pony’s head and the third more than half a meter in breadth. The dome was otherwise speckled with camera housings, antennae, and other odd bulges, whose purposes I could only guess. Mysteriously, it lacked any signs of battle damage, and was, in fact, polished and painted a uniform grey.

It was as though the whole dome had been remade, or replaced entirely.

The bottom portion of the colossus was speckled by dents, scratches, burn marks, and shallow gouges left by centuries of conflicts that must have occurred in and around its home. It was a wheeled tank, about four meters from the ground to the turret base, all shallowly angled armor plating, gun turrets, and honeycomb-patterned pods bereft of their missiles. The frontal glacis declined and became a plow able to shove aside many tons of debris, as I had seen for myself. Recessed in two gaps in the plow were two winches, though one of them was snarled and jammed with what looked like a crumpled section of a lamppost.

The top reminded me of a sentry bot, and of pictures of minotaurs I once had seen in Neighvarro; where a minotaur was well-defined, tall, and muscular, however, the machine before me was stout and cumbersome, its torso like a broad, too-short smokestack that occupied the rear third of the vehicle beneath it. It was slightly tapered, and covered sparsely with dull, grey squares of metal, in addition to more cameras and sensor booms that projected out from the surface at seemingly random points. Two thick, crane-like arms extended from the upper half of the turret; the shoulders were armored and articulated with a combination of enormous servo motors and hydraulics, and the elbows supported a boom that ended in three vise-like claws that could grasp a carriage. The left one, from Maximillian’s perspective, hosted on what could be called his wrist a delicate array of six prongs set around a circular, parabolic dish, which was studded with tiny, gleaming discs of copper.

Under these arms, mounted on a circular rail around the torso, were two secondary arms that seemed more appropriate for precision tools. They were connected to the torso with neatly tethered cables, and resembled the limbs of a mantis, or those of the self-levitating utility robot I had seen in Carbide’s laboratory building. Each limb held multiple tools, but I couldn’t distinguish them from so far away.

Set on a more massive ring around the lower torso, below the secondary arms, was the thaumic projection cannon that, with glancing blows, had scored concrete black and melted solid bronze statues in a courtyard I hoped never to visit again.

I shuffled in place, swallowing. “I’m grateful,” I said slowly, “Really… really grateful… that he didn’t use all that. Before. Because… now that I have time to look…” My shuffling took me closer to Night Cloud. My hooves had begun to grow cold and numb, and the blanket wrapped around me was not as warm as I wished. “I see a lot of targeting talismans. Intact. Targeting talismans.”

“Then why did he miss?” asked Blitz, kicking idly at the snow; she wore her grey caparison over a suit of armored barding that much resembled that of the many city guards that stood in staggered lines behind us, except instead of a bright cuirass over white cloth, the steel was dark and smooth, like the surface of a rock in the rain. The armor appeared brand new, and though simple in appearance and lacking any notable engravings, it was of the finest quality, and fitted to her perfectly. The barely visible lines of bright, polished metal that rimmed the edges of each plate spoke of complex enchantments and talismans hidden under the surface. “Why try to shoot at you at all, before?”

For all its understated elegance, the armor, like Night Cloud’s own, suited Blitz well.

“I’ve wondered about that.” Another wing spread across my back, and Zephyr stepped close to me. She wore her power armor’s undersuit; it wouldn’t stop a missile, but it had some protective talismans built into its lining. “The sentries were tracking me and Eagle by our armor… we were the clear threats, considering how many we took down. And they didn’t miss.” She pointed at the gargantuan sentry. “Maybe he was trying not to hit you.”

“Carbide said he was… compromised. Hacked somehow, by somepony…” I shrugged and nudged Zephyr’s shoulder with my snout. “Maybe he was fighting back?”

“Perhaps he had a virus,” said Night Cloud. Blitz and Zephyr both turned to her. “A computer virus. Malicious programming, injected into a computer system. Maximillian has an artificial mind, does he not? A computer for a brain. It stands to reason he would be vulnerable to viruses. Perhaps that’s what Carbide meant; connecting to the laboratory systems must have cleared whatever it was from his memory.” She looked back at our dumbfounded expressions, glanced at Blitz, and rolled her eyes. “Just because I’m a tribal mare doesn’t mean I’m ignorant. The hospital has many computers; I’m expected to use them every day.”

A faint, resonating whine came across the field as Maximillian lowered his left arm, rotated two of his claws so that they were parallel to the middle third, and tapped them on the top of his wheel well. The heavy clunk-clunk-clunk came clearly through the wind and snow.

“Um…” I tilted my head up at Night Cloud. She shrugged her wings. Blitz frowned. “When…”

Clunk-clunk-clunk.

“When is Ivy going to, um… meet us, again?” Blitz continued to stare at the looming machine. I tugged on her caparison. “Blitz?”

Clunk-clunk-clunk.

“What? Oh. Uh… couple minutes. Soon as she has her, uh… cannon. Just in case.”

“She, um… has a cannon?”

Night Cloud gave a nervous giggle and murmured, “She has a collection of cannons. And a small museum. I could take you to see it, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Clunk-clunk-clunk.

I glanced behind us, squinting over Night Cloud’s figure at the twin-barreled guns in turrets high on the stone ramparts behind us and about eighty meters west along the wall. Ratcheting chain lifts on either side of the guns fed shells from hoppers at the turret’s base. Another identical turret sat in a fortified bastion a similar distance along the wall to the east of the river.

Both guns, all four barrels, were aimed at Maximillian.

“Yeah. I noticed. Are those, um…” I squeezed Night Cloud’s ankle and mumbled, “Not enough?”

“Um…”

Clunk-clunk-clunk.

“Probably,” said Blitz, “But Ivy doesn’t do ‘probably’ when it comes to… perforating things.” The deep violet mare spread her wings halfway for a moment, muttering, “I know I’ve seen griffons do that…”

“What does it mean?” I looked back past Night Cloud, squinting along the street past the gates. I looked back to Maximillian just in time to watch as he rotated all three claws around to point up, then flicked the rightmost claw over by several degrees.

“Wait…”

Then he flicked the claw again. And again.

I grimaced. “A clock.”

“Oh! I get it.” Blitz chuckled. “He’s tired of waiting.”

Quick wing flaps came from above us, a faint shadow fell over me, and something immensely heavy landed nearby. Night Cloud stumbled. Zephyr gasped and spread her wings to regain her balance.

I bounced.

I ducked my head below Night Cloud’s cuirass and gaped at the chariot-mounted field gun that was suddenly where it had not been before. Night Cloud glanced down at me, giggled, and stepped back to give me a clear view.

Ivy landed on the gunner’s bench behind the blast shield at the cannon’s breech and set her hoof on the firing control, then enveloped a thick lever on the bench and pulled it. Outriggers unfolded from the sides of the low, flat carriage and stabbed their teeth into the earth, and Ivy’s golden glow vanished, save for around a shell several times the mass of those which Maximillian had surrendered.

A block on the rear of the breech twisted ninety degrees and opened to the right, revealing deep threading on the block keyed to the inside of the breech. Ivy slid the massive shell in, and she flipped the block back into place, twisting and locking the breech. She glanced at us, levitated a pair of earmuffs onto her head, and turned back to the fire controls.

Blitz looked back and forth between Maximillian and the cannon. She made up her mind and pointed her hoof weakly at the gun. “Ivy, that’s not part of the armory. Where did—when did you make that?”

“And how much does it weigh?” I mumbled, staring at Ivy.

“Blizziera,” said Ivy, giving nary an eye to the taller mare as she quickly rotated a handle with her forehoof, which caused the gun to decline by several increments on the elevation dial. “I have enough cause for headache amid all this foolishness without a siege engine parked at our front door. Find out what it wants or convince it to leave.” From the panels of the already substantial blast shield that projected from immediately in front of the breech and fire controls, a translucent barrier of white-gold magic appeared, extending in a parabolic oval three meters to either side of the barrel and two meters above. “I will not abide its presence absent a leash.”

“… all right, then.” Blitz faced Night Cloud, Zephyr, and me and levitated three identical, brass medallions out of her saddlebags, fastening them around our necks. I lifted mine up to peer at the iron button inset on the brass disc. “Pre-arranged teleportation talismans. Push the button, and you’re just outside the Palace. Safe and sound.”

“Cool,” I mumbled. I met her worried gaze and said, “Single use?”

“Technically, no,” said Blitz, turning around and striding forward, “The talismans themselves are reusable, but they have to be re-enchanted and charged at the spell’s destination, so in practice, pretty much.”

Night Cloud, Zephyr, and I followed behind her. Zephyr hopped into a short glide and cantered forward to match pace with Blitz. I pointed both ears forward to catch her voice over the wind. “So—you have a talisman that lets anypony instantly appear at your front door. Is that the wisest thing to bandy about right now, considering?”

Blitz glanced down at her briefly and gave a cautious frown. “Mirago made them at my request earlier this morning. Specifically for the eventuality in which you three have to reach a safe distance while Ivy and I blow up the robot. If all goes well, I’ll destroy them. I certainly don’t intend to leave them lying around where anypony can snatch one up. Little brother would have my head… but if you do have to use them, then you’ll be in the most heavily guarded part of the city.”

Night Cloud tucked her wing down along my side, sheltering me as the wind picked up briefly. “Blitz… do we know if the Kekalo are still in the city?”

The deep violet alicorn slowed her pace, allowing us to catch up. She shook her head. “The Guard is screening for cloaking spells, and any sign of animatus spells. Not a perfect solution, but it’s better than jumping at shadows…”

I stumbled on a rock hidden by the snow. Zephyr glanced at me. Night Cloud looked down in alarm immediately. “Baby, do you want me to carry you?”

“Night, I’m fine with you calling me that, but that doesn’t mean I’m actually a baby.” I rolled my eyes; Zephyr smirked at me. “I walked through plenty of snow around Cloud Loft. I can manage.” Blitz chuckled, and she began to telekinetically plow the snow aside, forging a clear path for us. “So we don’t know where they are…”

“We have theories,” said Blitz. “And many watchful eyes… but no. We don’t know for certain where they are, or even what they intend to do next, beyond maybe attack Ivy or me again. Even Argent Nimbus has little input… he claims to have traveled with the Prince for several months, years ago, but evidently that didn’t extend to being his confidante for his recent deliberations.”

“Do you have thermal optics?” Zephyr hopped over a snowdrift that might have concealed a boulder or log. “Crystal, that was how you saw those ponies, wasn’t it? When they tried to attack us?”

I shivered and mumbled, “Yeah.” I blinked against building wind and swirling snow, and for a moment, I was lying on my back in my armor, a length of icy steel in my abdomen. My wings twitched and tightened under the blanket I wore, and I took a deep breath of the shockingly crisp air. “Helmet’s fried, though. Even if I could power it, nothing would work. I’m pretty sure the suit’s EFS was controlled by that computer in the chest piece, not a discrete talisman. If I could fix the rest of the suit, somehow, or at least that part, then maybe I could watch for—”

“NO.”

I flinched at the force of Blitz’s voice; my coat stood on end and a shiver ran down my spine. Night Cloud squeezed my side, and Zephyr flared her wings in the middle of jumping another obstacle, scattering a cloud of powdered snow.

Whatever magical amplification carried her speech, conscious or not, it was effective.

The towering alicorn leading us turned her back to our destination and frowned down at me. A moment after, her ears drooped, and her eyes fell with them. “It galls me enough already… to bring you within sight of that thing, benign intentions though it may possess.” She flared her wings halfway, snorted, and turned once again to walk toward Maximillian. “I will not put you between a foreign adversary and Bellenast, not even through binoculars. Your place in this conflict is by a warm hearth… not at the front lines, poking your head out.”

I raised my eyebrows. Zephyr had the same thought as I did. The pegasus jumped into the air, hovering as we drew to within fifty meters of Maximillian. “So why bring us out here, where we’re vulnerable?”

Blitz folded her wings again, nodding toward the machine that grew larger in our view. “Because he has been peaceful thus far, and was willing to ask politely. He recognized me as a representative of Bellenast… what exactly he knows of Bellenast remains to be discovered. He also took care to avoid driving over crops and fences on his way along the river, and did nothing when somepony attacked him with an improvised rocket. Every guard report I’ve read—and there are many of them—corroborates that this machine has gone to great lengths to avoid conflict and collateral damage while traversing, and trespassing across, this kingdom.”

“Okay,” said Zephyr, “That doesn’t sound like your average death bot. Fair point…”

I frowned and swallowed. Our destination came closer. “So, um… why does Ivy want to shoot him?”

“For the same reason I want to talk. Beyond his self-proclaimed objective, he appears to have motivation. An interesting quality in a machine… and potentially very dangerous.” Blitz shrugged her wings. “I can’t ignore him… but he asked for you, Crystal. If granting him a friendly chat removes a threat to Bellenast… then a friendly chat is on the table.”

-About nineteen tons. Sixteen centimeter bore.-

I chanced a look over my shoulder at Ivy, far behind us and the glowing shield of her gun.

-I was distracted. Since you asked, Fomalhaut weighs eighteen thousand, nine hundred and sixty kilograms, though it could be lighter without the shielding and carriage. It is among the largest portable guns I have ever made… for a generous definition of ‘portable.’-

I thought briefly on Night Cloud’s claim that she could lift a carriage; I had considered such a feat impressive, given my own limits, but if her directed blast from two days prior gave any meaningful input, then the gentle mare was far more powerful under duress than I had expected.

Ivy showed no visible signs of strain or effort.

-Fomalhaut?-

-A dragon, named after a star… or given that he was already ancient when the astrolabe was invented, perhaps the star was named after him. I once had the opportunity to meet him… and not his maw. With one bite, he could devour an elephant. With his flame, he could melt a castle of solid stone. I was inspired.-

-Huh. So, um… just out of curiosity, how much can Blitz lift?-

-Much less.-

-Really?-

-Blizziera is powerful and resourceful, certainly, but in terms of raw telekinetic strength, she is below average. By contrast, my general experience with magic far exceed hers, but she has a better command of more esoteric subjects. She is…-

-Is… what?-

-Versatile… but temperamental.-

“Crystal!”

“Huh?” I jerked my head forward and stopped, then looked up through the magic bubble of pale violet. Frost covered the angled plates of armor, and icicles hung from the entire front edge of the plow. My tongue tried to shrivel backward and lodge in my throat. Night Cloud pulled me gently backward. “Oh.”

-Distracted, baby?-

I nodded, squinting against the wind at the swiveling lenses on the armored dome high above us. My heart began to race. My legs trembled. My tail quivered between my legs. “Um… I was talking to Ivy. Sorry.”

Zephyr came closer to me and directed a befuddled frown my way. “Now’s not the time to be on auto-pilot.”

“Maximillian!” Blitz hollered. “I have done as you asked. Crystal Dew is here. Speak what business you may.”

A deep, bone-rattling rumble came from the machine, and the sound built up to a muted roar, as if an enormous furnace were being stoked in a nearby building. The dome atop the torso spun a degree, and the three lenses tilted downward to face me directly. Then, a long, thin panel opened on the front left side of the glacis, and from it rose a spindly, folding boom, like a hydraulic crane. The boom extended slowly and lowered through Blitz’s protective barrier without any obvious effect, and came to rest two meters in front of my nose. An array of cameras hung on the boom, in addition to several small clamps, a scoop, and a drill. Several of the parabolic dishes on Maximillian’s front spun toward me, as well, causing no small amount of screeching on age-worn bearings.

From somewhere on the colossus issued a stentorian voice, deep, buzzing with modulation, and unmistakably male.

“Records indicate that Crystal Dew is an adolescent female unicorn. Records also indicate that she has a Spannerworks series L2C partial prosthesis attached at the knee of her left hind leg, in addition to vertebral inserts for use with Spannerworks model D004 assistive exoskeleton.. This pony is not a unicorn, and has no prosthesis or implants. However, her thaumic signature matches records within acceptable margins of error.” The clawed arms lowered to the titan’s armored vehicle section and assumed a resting position; the innermost claw of the left arm closed more slowly than the others, and a fine jet of orange hydraulic fluid sprayed from a point on its piston, hissing as it spattered the snow. “Please explain this discrepancy.”

Night Cloud squeezed me firmly with her wing. Next to me, Zephyr fidgeted with a knob on her beam rifle; at its maximum output, it could core a sentry bot and deter an agitated storm serpent. It might tickle the giant before us.

Blitz gave me what she might have imagined to be a reassuring smile, then stepped forward to put herself between me and the spindly mechanism. It retreated slightly to give her room. “The prosthesis and implants were, ah… surgically removed. Very recently, and prior to another operation. As for her not being a unicorn… what do you know about the Ministry of Arcane Science?”

Maximillian was silent at first, save the background roar of whatever power source was contained within his chassis. More than ten seconds into the unexpected pause, he spoke.

“My records are extensive, but in context, I surmise them to be out-of-date. Please elaborate.”

“O-kay…” Blitz cleared her throat and spread her left wing out in front of the array of lenses. “Just as Crystal Dew is no longer a unicorn, I am no longer one… but I was born as one. I was transformed, by means of the Impelled Metamorphosis Potion, which was created by Ministry Mare Twilight Sparkle of the Ministry of Arcane Science. The Potion has the medical benefit of being an incredibly potent regenerative formula. We, ah… that is, those involved in Crystal’s surgery administered the Potion in order to heal a life-threatening injury she suffered, and to forestall any complications that might have arisen, had they tried to remove her implants.”

“Curious.”

I raised an eyebrow, then took a halting step backward as the boom raised up farther and moved around Blitz.

“Does the Impelled Metamorphosis Potion also cause toxic quantities of Balefire-class thaumic contaminants to accumulate in the cardiovascular, lymphatic, and endocrinal systems?”

Night Cloud cleared her throat to interject. “Those who are transformed by the Potion produce Balefire radiation in the heart via thaumochemical metabolism, and exposure to radiation results in rapid absorption and buildup of that energy in a metabolically beneficial manner, rather than the cellular necrosis and cancerous growths seen in most creatures. It isn’t toxic for us.”

I frowned, then looked up at Night Cloud. “You said your blood wasn’t radioactive.”

The indigo mare giggled, looking away from me. “I, um… I lied. I haven’t been near any sources of radiation in the last few months, but, um… yes. My blood is slightly radioactive. I didn’t want to scare you. You are actually much more radioactive than I am at the moment.”

Zephyr sidestepped away from me. “I want some Rad-Away.”

Night Cloud huffed and nickered softly. “It’s in her blood, not soaking her coat. You’re not in any danger.”

“This explanation is sufficient. Identity confirmed.” I flinched as the boom moved closer, stopping near enough to my muzzle that my breath fogged the lenses. Night Cloud raised her forehoof and pushed on the delicate array. Maximillian seemed to ignore the gesture. “Crystal Dew: Please bring Chief Engineer Carbide to my port entrance.”

I wrapped my magic around my saddlebags and stepped back. My heart had slowed; it threatened to beat my ribs senseless again. I counter-threatened it by holding Night Cloud’s foreleg tightly. “Why?”

“I wish to speak with him. Because his former transportation unit has been rendered inoperable, he has no means of communication and no perception of his surroundings. I am equipped with a rudimentary interface for such purposes.”

I took one hesitant, shaking step away from the comfort of Night Cloud’s wing and lingering warmth, and Blitz pressed on my chest with telekinesis.

“Hold up, kiddo.” The grey-armored mare turned her gaze up to the three lenses high above. “What guarantee do I have that you don’t have some kind of trap in… yourself?”

“The armament present is more than sufficient to cause me catastrophic damage.” The dome spun and the lenses aimed right back at her; Blitz took a reflexive step backward. “Your contingency is sound.”

“My contingency…”

“I am equipped with many means of observation, including spectrographic, thaumographic, and interferometric sensors. Do you think my creator would omit an ability to lip-read via telescope?”

Blitz gave a snort and stamped the snow. “Then you know Ivy will blast you straight to robot Hell if you give her a reason.”

“I do not know whether such a place exists, but am familiar with the concept of oblivion; I do not wish to experience it, myself.”

With a suddenness that startled all of us into jumping back, Maximillian rotated in place on his six wheels, keeping his three lenses aimed straight at Blitz the entire time; the distant roar of an open furnace blasted from within, and the tinkle of colliding icicles sounded briefly before being silenced by the crunching of packed snow. He faced ninety degrees to our left and stopped. The dull, muffled roar coming from the machine returned to its prior level.

He retracted the sensor boom back into his armored front, closing the protective panel. “Due to deterioration of the outer seal, there is a significant presence of microorganisms in the airlock, which could cause adverse reactions in those with respiratory illnesses. You may clean it out, if it concerns you.”

In front of the rear two wheels on his left side, a thick hatch opened, and with a hiss of hydraulics and screech of rusted hinges, it opened upward, and a short stepladder extended and lowered from immediately below the opening. As Maximillian had described, the once-airtight seal around the hatch had rotted away, and within the red-lit airlock, the floor and walls were spotted with patches of black mold and slimy mildew.

Night Cloud took a sharp breath. “No. No way. You are not going near that. That’s a lung infection waiting to happen.”

I sighed and gritted my teeth in exasperation. “Maximillian,” I said, “Is there anything important to you in the airlock?”

“No.”

“Crystal…”

“Everypony cover your ears,” said Zephyr, as I pulled away from Night Cloud’s wing and aimed my horn at the opening several meters away. “Do your stuff, fireflower.”

As bright sparks gathered at the tip of my horn, I paused, blushing. “Blitz, can I cast out through your shield?”

“Yes,” said the alicorn, backing up out of my way.

“Peachy.”

Emerald light surged from my horn, and a slightly distorted current of air rushed into the airlock. I formed a spherical bubble half a meter across in the opening, and within the bubble, gathered the gases I needed, allowing the influx to force the extraneous gases outward through the selectively permeable barrier. Once oxygen and hydrogen alone occupied most of the volume, I closed my eyes and pushed a minute amount of extra energy into a third spell an instant before dissipating the bubble, creating a simple spark.

The ground shook, but Blitz’s transparent shield flared and absorbed what force the small explosion directed our way.

I looked up as the fireball and plume of dust rose out and billowed away on the wind. Steam and wisps of pale smoke came from the airlock. I snapped my tail at Night Cloud’s side, though because of my meager height, I hit her belly, instead. She jolted and glared down at me. “Bacteria’s dead. May I go in now?”

“Confirmed: Preliminary scan shows greatly reduced microorganism presence in port airlock. Risk to respiratory health unlikely. The ‘Kill It With Fire’ approach is effective.”

I giggled and trotted forward, smiling. “I like him.”

“However, your stoichiometric ratio can be improved for greater explosive potential.”

“Critic,” I mumbled. I clasped my blanket tightly to keep my legs unhindered. I climbed carefully up the steps and lifted the edge of the blanket over my muzzle as the lingering stench assaulted me. More than mold had died in the airlock in recent months: Against the inner door lay the shriveled carcass of a wild dog, its remaining patches of fur smoking and rotted. Its exposed ribs were picked clean and covered with bite marks. Shuddering, I wrapped my telekinesis around the stinking heap of bones and desiccated tissue and levitated it outside. A gasp came from behind me. I glanced back as Night Cloud jerked to the side to dodge the carcass. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” she said stiffly. She grimaced as I dropped the carcass in the snow several meters away. Trotting up to the steps, she forced a smile to her lips and said, “I’m not letting you go in that thing alone.”

“Night…”

She set hoof on the steps and lowered her head, then attempted to duck through the hatchway. Her shoulders, and, apparent from the wince, her spine, impacted the upper frame. Her ears drooped, and she grunted as she bent her legs and proceeded to take up most of the space in the airlock. What was ample space for me and just enough for most adults was painfully cramped for the indigo mare.

“Seriously?” An annoyed snort came from behind the alicorn. “If you have to get out in a hurry, you can’t even turn around! I’ll go with her. Out.”

“Zephyr,” growled Night Cloud, nearly stabbing my ear with her horn as she turned around to glare at the pegasus. I took a calming breath.

“No. Out. I’m going. And watch where you point that thing; I don’t think she wants piercings.”

Night Cloud looked at me as best she could with the room she had available, nuzzled my cheek, and stepped gingerly backward through the hatch. -Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.-

-Yeah, you were: About me. I’ll be fine, Night.- I patted the talisman hanging from my neck. -I don’t think anypony would design a giant robot with an airlock, then put gun turrets inside the cabin.-

I stepped aside as Zephyr hopped nimbly over the entrance steps and stood by me in the cramped chamber. She put her wing across my back, rubbing my shoulders, then continued forward and stepped on a yellow plate set into the deck in front of the inner hatch. The outer hatch screeched upward and shut behind us, but of course formed no seal; for its intended purpose, the hatch was effectively useless, but I doubted the airlock would cycle if it were left open. Our only light came from the gaps in the rotted gasket around the door and the red light set above the inner hatch. “Can’t believe we’re doing this…”

“It lets me talk to Carbide.” Our voices were loud and close against the metal walls. I levitated the diamond and noctium ball out of my saddlebags, holding it close to my chest. “I hope.”

-Remember, Crystal: At the first sign of danger, push the button.-

-I know. Relax, Night.- I rolled my eyes as a red light above the inner hatch turned off and a green one next to it illuminated. I stepped on an inclined pad on the floor, and the hatch swung open, creaking all the way. A semi-translucent barrier occupied the hatch’s opening, likely a result of the failed seals. I stepped through the barrier and into much warmer air, and looked around the cabin, blinking as square panels on the ceiling flickered to life and cast a warm, sunny glow over everything inside.

The cabin was built in a fashion similar to a traveling wagon, though it was exceptionally spacious. To my left, the front of the cabin, was a kitchenette, complete with a sink, range, and small refrigerator. Between the fridge and the grimy, stainless steel cupboards across from it was a narrow door to another compartment. To my right on either side of the chamber were padded benches, a folding table that had been bent to the point of breaking almost in half, and a computer terminal built into the wall, close to the airlock hatch. Cracked, brittle-looking mats covered the floor unevenly. To the left of the broken table was a door to another compartment. Beyond that passenger space was a bulkhead, in the center of which was another hatch with a porthole. A steep staircase, almost a ladder, ascended beyond that hatch.

Every surface sported a thick coating of dust, and the air was stale and metallic.

“Ever hear of a maid, Maximillian?”

“Those who provided maintenance service previously have been dead for one hundred and seventy years.”

My ears flicked toward a speaker on the ceiling.

“RoBronco’s Workhorse Sentry and Mr. Gutsy models are ill-suited for such tasks. In addition, all such units within Spannerworks property were compromised, as I was, and have not followed my commands for a very long time. My maintenance servitors were not inclined to arrange for a janitor during that time.”

“That’s fair,” murmured Zephyr, biting onto the control bit for her beam rifle’s shoulder brace. “At least the heat works.”

I set my hoof on her chest, ears flicking. “Zeph,” I whispered, “The air smells… different. Weird.”

She sniffed deeply and stuck her tongue out, then scowled and gently pushed her control bit back and toggled her rifle’s safety. “Bucking Tartarus, Maximillian, if you aren’t trying to kill us, you should open that airlock and let some of this oxygen out. There’s enough dust in here to turn you into a fuel-air bomb.”

“If there is an excess buildup of oxygen, the atmospheric regulator has malfunctioned. I was unaware of this problem.”

Zephyr scowled. “Excuse me?”

“Are you kidding me?!” I looked up at the speaker on the ceiling, bewildered, and all but shouted, “You can detect friggin’ mold in the airlock and radiation in my organs! How do you not know there’s a friggin’ gas leak in—in yourself?!”

“I apologize. Due to safety and privacy constraints considered during my construction, my access to passenger accommodations and systems outside the forward observation compartment is normally restricted to communication. I was unaware of any malfunction. I am unable to override the airlock’s interior and exterior hatches simultaneously, myself. Nor am I able to initiate an atmospheric cycling. All such functions are controlled from either the secondary access terminal in the passenger chambers or the control console above my reactor chamber, which is accessible via the sternward passage.”

-Crystal? What’s going on? What’s it like in there?-

I swallowed and looked at the bulkhead past the benches. -Um… there’s a lot of extra oxygen in the air. Maximillian says he can’t force the airlock open or pump the air out, himself—friggin’ stupid, I know—so we need to do that before we go poking around anything else.-

“Crystal?”

-There’s a lot of dust, too. Imagine my spell with the airlock, except there’s nowhere for the explosion to go.-

-Yes. I understand. Kana, Gaia, etá Nube, I beg you, Crystal, be careful!-

“Crystal? Hey.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, glancing at Zephyr as she pulled her wingtip away from my collar. “Night Cloud wanted to know what was going on.” As I turned and stepped up to the terminal set into the wall by the airlock bulkhead, Zephyr strode toward the hatch to the upper compartment. On the screen was a grid of blandly colored squares, designed to look like buttons, with text descriptions in their centers.

“Is she in your head like that all the time?”

I glanced at her, frowning, then returned my attention to the terminal screen and searched for anything related to airlocks or oxygen. “If you mean, does she talk to me, yes. Pretty often, ever since she picked me up in the desert. Blitz does it, too. And Ivy, sometimes, but she sounds… different. Not… louder, but more… I don’t know. Forcible? It feels less normal when she does it. With Blitz and Night Cloud, it’s just like normal talking, but… you know, in your head.”

“It’s invasive.” Zephyr leaned close to the bulkhead, ducking down to peer up through the porthole at the ladder and the compartment beyond it. “Like she’s pulling on your ear. Night Cloud isn’t like that?”

“Not at all,” I murmured, peering at a particular box on the terminal. “Atmospheric Regulator, huh?” I looked down at the navigational keys on the tray below the display: One of them was cracked, and an old bloodstain darkened the edge of the faded plastic. A bundle of cabling ran along the side of the tray, then fed into a plastic shroud on the underside of the screen, where it extended a few centimeters from the wall. The plastic was broken off halfway up, leaving a sharp, bent edge. Judging by the teeth marks, somepony had bitten off the cable cover to access the small ports and switches under the plastic.

Several toggle switches beneath the screen were bent, and more than one bundle of formerly insulated wiring had met that pony’s teeth, as well. An access panel on the wall below the terminal was bent at its corners and scorched slightly, as though it had been introduced to a pony unskilled with a cutting torch. I backed away from it.

“I think we should avoid this terminal for the moment. We aren’t the first ponies to come in here and try to mess with things.”

“Great… is this really worth the risk, Crystal? We’re literally standing inside a cheap bomb right now. The blast might be survivable, but I don’t want to take that chance.”

I snorted and stalked over to the bulkhead. “Maximillian wants to talk to Carbide. I want to know if Carbide is alive. Maximillian has something in here that will let us talk to him. If it works, and he talks, then he’s alive. I’m not friggin’ leaving until I can hear him talking to me.” I glared at the bulkhead and the floor in front of it, stomping on the pressure plate set into the deck. The hatch opened squeakily, and a rapid, frenetic clicking and buzzing vibration came from Zephyr’s barding. A euphoric warmth and gentle tingling spread across my hide and through my chest.

She looked frantically down to the warning gauge on her foreleg. “Shit! Forget it. Crystal, we’re getting out of here.” I stumbled as she grabbed my foreleg and tugged me the short distance to the airlock. “Come on!”

“Zephyr, it’s fine!” I pulled my leg away and stepped back, stumbling. “I’m immune to it! You go outside. I’ll stay.”

Zephyr gaped at me for a moment. Her ears folded flat along her skull, and she took a faltering step toward me, as if to pull me along again. “Oh.” She laughed, but the strain stayed on her muzzle. She shuffled in place, her wings unfurling restlessly. “Alicorn… got it… right.”

I went toward her, intending to hug her, but froze mid-step and backed up again. “Um… go drink some Rad-Away, Zephyr… I’ll fix the… atmospheric regulator thingy.”

She closed her eyes, her lips pulled back in a snarl, and she stomped both forehooves on the deck. “Damn it! Just… be careful. And whatever you want to chat about with the robot, do it quickly.” She nickered and turned tail, trotting through the semi-translucent shield over the airlock’s inner hatch. “You’d better not be glowing when you come out.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, and muttered, “Just go, Zeph. I’ll be fine.”

“Of all the stupid horseapples… fucking radioactive crew quarters…” Zephyr stomped the deck plate, and the hatch swung closed and sealed.

I giggled despite myself. -Night Cloud, Zephyr’s coming back out. You have Rad-Away, right?-

-Of course. What’s wrong?-

-Just give some to Zephyr, please. Maximillian’s reactor is radioactive, the computer in the passenger area is about ready to set off an explosion if I touch any buttons, and… what exactly does a reactor… react with?- I shrugged my blanket off and set it on the floor, then ducked through the hatch and began to climb, lighting my way with emerald magic.

-Well… if it’s radioactive, it must involve Balefire.-

Another giggle echoed off the close walls of the two-and-a-half-meters tall passageway. -A reactor is a power plant, though, right?-

-I… Blitz, this is more your area of expertise, isn’t it?-

Then her voice met Night Cloud’s in my mind.

-I mean… I know how a thaumoelectric converter works, generally speaking, but I’ve never seen one used for anything bigger than an oven… or one of those new magnetic imagers, in the Hospital.-

-Boilers would take up a lot of space.- I clambered over the upper ledge and stared in uncertainty at the confined space. -I’m not saying there aren’t any, but considering all the munitions, I don’t think there’s leftover space for huge water tanks. Combustion engines need drive shafts, for the wheels. They’re also really noisy… but not this kind of noisy. Thaumoelectrics aren’t great for anything this big. It must be something else.- The ladder emerged at the end of a narrow walkway sandwiched between a curved hull on my right, and on my left, a row of consoles lined with far more levers, switches, and dials than I wanted to count.

“You will find the reset control for the atmospheric regulator on the second console from the stairwell.”

“Can you see in here?” I said as I trotted to the second bank of switches and gauges.

“At this time, no; many of my internal sensors are inoperable. Open the yellow, plastic shroud at the top-left corner of that console and pull the lever toward you. Wait thirty seconds, then push it back to its original position and push the black, square button directly below the lever. This will trigger a soft reset of the atmospheric regulator subsystems, and purge excess oxygen.”

There was less dust in the air, but just as much on the ancient panel. A row of lights ran along the upper edge of the console, and nearly every one of them was red.

I lifted the faded, yellow cover up on its squeaky hinge and pulled the small lever.

Immediately beyond the row of consoles was one quarter of a circular, metal shell mated to structural beams that curved along the hull behind me and overhead. The shell’s surface was interrupted by a circular window that must have been at least ten centimeters thick. Through the window came a white light, the result of a dazzling, multi-layer shield of magic that surrounded what appeared to be a misshapen torus of metal several meters in diameter.

Hundreds of tubes and insulated wires, thick and thin alike, fed into the torus, which was suspended by six heavy struts that extended from floor to ceiling of the chamber.

-Blitz?-

-Yes?-

-Can you and Ivy do that, um… sense-sharing spell on me? Right now? I need you to see this.-

My horn tingled briefly.

-I see it… I’m not sure what it is, but I see it.-

The warmth in my chest had spread to every hoof, and for the first time in hours, I was free of the pervasive aches in every muscle. It was as though I had sunk into a hot bath, but instead of steaming water, it was a torrent of purest, caressing magic, flowing freely through my body in a way that both rejuvenated and left me suffused with a heat and distinctive headiness.

I swallowed, breathing deeply of the energized air, and focused on the esoteric power plant held in the reinforced chamber below, rather than the beating fire in my chest. “So, um… Maximillian… your power source. Your reactor. That big… ring thing, right? I don’t really know much about… whatever that is, but it looks like you have some pretty hefty barrier spells around it. Would it explode, if um… Ivy shot you? With that big cannon, that is.”

“That is a possible outcome; however, the chances of such an event occurring are below zero-point-five percent. In principle, my reactor contains an ongoing, low-magnitude Balefire-class megaspell event within a suspension of energetic plasma. The thaumic output of this reaction is sufficient to power all of my primary systems indefinitely. It is well protected, and redundantly so, but despite what my armament and apparent design may suggest, I was not intended explicitly as a siege vehicle, nor can I withstand the caliber of munitions currently fielded against me. My reactor would, most likely, suffer no catastrophic damage, but I would cease to function. As I stated before: Princess Blizziera’s contingency is sound.”

I pushed the lever back, pushed the button below it, which made a satisfying click, and swallowed. My ears flicked to and fro as fans spun to life in ducts somewhere above me, creating a persistent, resonating hum throughout the chamber.

“Okay. I get that. But, um… hypothetically speaking, how big would that explosion be?”

“Assuming the worst-case scenario of a catastrophic failure of exterior and interior battle screens, containment, and failsafes… the resulting cascade event in the Balefire reaction chamber could yield a thermoaetheric blast equivalent to a detonation of forty to fifty kilotons of conventional explosives. Collateral damage and loss of life would be… extreme. Necromantic contamination and propagation of airborne particulates would render the surrounding regions uninhabitable for fifty to one hundred years. I do not wish to cause such harm.”

I sat on my haunches next to the stairwell; despite the warmth coursing through my limbs and the near-overwhelming flood of energy surging similarly through the rest of me, I shuddered and struggled to continue breathing normally. My voice obeyed me, but only just. “Max—”

“And… I do not want to die.”

The words came with a drop in volume and a change in inflection that caught me off guard. Since I had entered the great machine, I had levitated Carbide’s dormant form close to my body. I took the diamond and metal ball in my hooves and hugged it to my chest.

“Okay. That’s, um… that’s perfectly, um… reasonable.” -Ivy? Point the gun somewhere else, please?-

-In my zeal to defend my home, I might have destroyed it. Thank you, Crystal. Your caution is commendable.-

I laughed, squeezing the metal cradle tightly. -I just talked to him. Don’t thank me. Thank Maximillian. He seems okay. We should, um… try to be friends, not blow him up.-

-And yet our fellow ponies have set upon us with deathly blizzards and fell schemes, when this machine treads so lightly… we’ve only just begun to correct the storm patterns set into motion from the Tower; the hail and snow have caused damage across the entire city. Had this happened later in the spring, the loss of crops would have caused famine. If only all our visitors were so amicable.-

Shaking my head, I returned the cradle to my magic hold and made my way backwards down the ladder to Maximillian’s passenger chambers. As I reached the bottom and turned to the bulkhead hatch, I paused, chuckling. -If you, um… ‘gaze too long at the dragon slumbering upon the mountain, the timberwolves will catch you.’-

-An apt aphorism… where did you hear it?-

-It’s something Argent Nimbus said. He’s right: Maximillian is just following Carbide, not chasing anypony down. And he’s been running for more than a century, so it’s not like he’s about to explode at random. He’s beat up on the outside, but his important systems are fine. I mean, the airlock shield still works.-

-I understand your point, but I still want him out of the valley. He is fueled by a contained megaspell; I will not trust Bellenast’s safety to its continued containment. Finish your business quickly, Crystal. I am not averse to being a lure for the Prince, but you should play no part in that.-

I stopped between the benches in the crew cabin, looking up at the overhead speaker. “Maximillian… you have thermal targeting systems. How far away can they see ponies?”

“At a resolution sufficient for target acquisition, one-point-two kilometers. For visual confirmation, three to five kilometers, depending on atmospheric conditions.”

“And what about plain line of sight, with normal cameras?”

“To the horizon. Why?”

I swallowed and said, “Can you let me know if you see any ponies with your thermal sensors… but not with your normal cameras?”

“Do you expect me to see ponies equipped with cloaking magic?”

“Yes. They’re trying to kill Ivy, and Blitz, and... and probably me, or anypony else who happens to be in the way. They’re Kekalo. Ponies from somewhere in the San Palomino Desert.”

“I will monitor my surroundings and report any such anomalies… have I arrived during an international incident?”

I stopped again and looked around the narrow passenger cabin, searching for anything that resembled a receptacle for a grapefruit-sized magical artifact. “I mean… I guess? I don’t know. They’re jerks. Some Kekalo prince killed, um… the last King of Bellenast… Blitz’s father, thirty years ago, and Ivy killed that prince, and now his younger brother is running around the area, scaring ponies and attacking caravans and towns, and sending assassins after Blitz and Ivy. We don’t know where he is… I don’t even know what he looks like.” I rolled my eyes, shuffling in place. “And, I mean… I… I guess I understand why he’s doing it… I just… wish he wouldn’t. Ivy doesn’t want to kill him, because he hasn’t killed anypony yet… she’d rather throw him in prison, I guess.”

“An attempt to murder is no less serious a crime for having failed. Even discounting that, this Prince has committed what amount to acts of war, or at the least, banditry and vigilantism, if he is acting independently from his own nation.”

“Yeah, well, the guy’s a jerk either way, and his soldiers have hurt Blitz, Night Cloud, and me; he can rot in a cell for all I care, but if he shows his face, I might just shoot it off. And thanks, by the way.” -Blitz, Max is going to tell me if he sees any cloaked ponies nearby.-

Wait, what?

“Where’s that thing that will let Carbide talk?”

“The interface pedestal is in the forward compartment, starboard of the observation monitors. It has the appearance of a cylindrical drum, with an octagonal enclosure at the top.”

-Crystal, what are you doing?-

-Going to the thing that will let me know if Carbide is okay… and let him talk, I hope.-

-No, I mean—why are you… look, I’d rather not have, ah… Maximillian involved in all of this. I’d prefer that he make himself scarce. The taverns are already filled with rumors that he’s a Kekalo agent, somehow—and yes, I know that’s stupid. Extremely so. That’s not the point.-

I sighed and stepped on the inclined panel in front of the door in the kitchenette. The air smelled more normal, already. -I asked him if he would look for cloaked ponies. He said he’d do it… and he can see them out to about three klicks. That’s really friggin’ useful. He’s helping us.-

-But is he really helping us, or just helping you because you have that robot in your saddlebags? I’m still not sure what his motive is.-

“He isn’t a robot,” I muttered, stomping as I entered on the port side of a wide room that had four odd, harness-like chairs, many dusty, dark windows overlooking nothing, and yet more control panels covered with buttons and inactive readouts. The ceiling sloped downward over the consoles. A short-wave radio receiver hung on one of the consoles, and a microphone hung from the ceiling above it. Dust hung heavy in the air, giving the room an emerald sparkle, courtesy of my magic.

“If you refer to Chief Engineer Carbide, then no, of course he is not a robot.”

I snorted and glanced around what I reasoned to be the equivalent of a bridge for the enormous vehicle. “Are you, Max?” I whispered to myself. On the opposite end of the wall from which I had entered was another door. In the far right corner of the chamber, standing on a half-cylinder protruding from the wall, was the octagonal compartment I sought. I trotted quickly to it, levitated Carbide’s inert form upward, and placed him gently in the clamps at the center of the octagonal barrier of metal.

-Crystal? Are you all right? You went quiet.-

-I’m fine. Give me a minute.-

Two hemispheres of tarnished silver sprung from the enclosure’s bottom and snapped up, sealing Carbide inside it. A buzz of magic came from the device, and an overhead light flickered on, causing the ancient, silver globe to shine. A magic barrier, almost completely transparent, appeared over the octagonal wall, taking the form of a squat, eight-sided pyramid, and on the nearest face of it appeared a projected mote of blue light, followed by another, and another, slowly crossing the narrow triangle. The changing light drew my attention to a line of text inscribed neatly on the exterior of the hemispheric shell closest to me. “Neurosphere… Phylactery? Interface Mark IV?” -Blitz, what’s a phylactery?-

-I would very much like to know why you’re asking that question.-

-You’re not watching?-

-No. I stopped. And I won’t, unless you explicitly ask me to. I don’t like using that spell unless it’s an emergency… it’s a violation of privacy on many levels.-

-Oh. Okay.- “Maximillian, what’s a phylactery?”

“A phylactery is the source of power for an undying being; more specifically, a lich. It is the corporeal locus to which such a being is bound upon being summoned or created. Such an artifact can be ensorcelled so as to prevent the lich bound to it from possessing living beings, or as a means of otherwise restricting its behavior. It can also be reinforced as a means of protecting the lich from metaphysical manipulation.”

-Crystal? Night’s coming in.-

The dull sound of metal shoes on metal came from behind me, and the door opened again. Night Cloud stepped slowly through the doorway, having to bow her head just to enter the room. She smiled, glancing around in distaste at the dustiness, and came over to stand next to me.

“What’s going on?” she murmured. “Blitz looked agitated.”

“Carbide’s a lich,” I mumbled. “Is that bad?”

Night Cloud opened her mouth briefly, leaning toward the pedestal, then frowned. She squinted at it, reading the inscription on the silver hemisphere within. I stared at the octagonal shield, nonplussed. Night Cloud hummed softly. “That’s… interesting.”

I rubbed my forelegs together and whispered, “I guess what I mean is, um… is it inherently bad? I don’t think he knows he’s a lich.”

“Well…” She scooted behind me and leaned against my back, wrapping her forelegs around me. I tilted my head back slowly, freezing as she nudged my horn with her jaw. She brushed her mane back from her muzzle and murmured, “All I know about liches comes from a few games of Ogres and Oubliettes… supposedly, they possess living beings and raise undead minions, and are, um… generally evil, in those settings. I don’t think that knowledge applies, though. Remember, he did save your life.”

“Yeah.”

“Many times,” said the tall alicorn, extending her wings down to layer them in front of me. “If you count the scratches on your armor… left by many weapons.”

“Don’t forget ghoul teeth,” I mumbled. “He’s saved me a lot… so have you.”

“And I’m not so bad, am I?”

I grinned, nuzzled her collar, and set my hoof against the clear shield as the motes of blue crossed the breadth of the face, and a speaker above us popped into life.

“Ow! What the—how… Celestia’s blazing tail, that’s a lot of telemetry… ah, hello?! Who’s there?”

I laughed at the hesitant tenor voice. “Carbide!”

“Crystal?!” Timidity became joyous incredulity. “Oh, thank the goddesses, you—I thought I’d lost—I thought you’d… but… you were stabbed, impaled! The suit failed, overloaded catastrophically! It—it knocked out all my sensor feeds. I was barely able to retrieve the last segment from the envirosuit recorder before every connection just—everything stopped. Like everything broke at once. How are you alive? The last bit of biomonitor telemetry showed—a wound like that should have—well, by all rights, you ought to have bled to death in minutes…”

“Well… I’m not dead.” Night Cloud chuckled and squeezed my side with her wing. I leaned down and laid my forehead against the edge of the barrier. “I’ll give you a hint: I look a bit more like Night Cloud, now… and I don’t have to worry about those implants messing up my spine.”

“When… how long was I… ah… unconscious, so to speak? Wait, where are we? I can only hear you. There are some other signals, but I can’t make any sense of them. And what do you mean by, ah… like Night Cloud? What happened to you?”

“She has wings, now,” said Night Cloud softly, rubbing her forehoof at a spot just under my ribs; it felt as though there was an odd indent in my hide. “Courtesy of the Ministry of Arcane Science… or a leftover piece of it. The Impelled Metamorphosis Potion.”

The speaker overhead that served as Carbide’s voice box fell silent.

I lifted my brow from the pyramidal barrier. “Carbide?”

“Hang on. There’s—ah… listen, the sensors are showing a highly concentrated source of balefire energy here. Whatever you’ve hooked me into, can you move it? Or move the speaker and microphone to a safe distance?”

I giggled. “Carbide… that’s me. We’re in Maximillian’s, um… his bridge. He’s parked just outside Bellenast. I had to go in his reactor control room to start an oxygen purge. The whole passenger area was ready to explode if I made a spark with my horn. I guess I absorbed a lot… I’m fine, though. I’m, um… an alicorn, now. Radiation is good for us.”

“Maximillian? He must have… caught up to… but—oooh, so that’s why I can’t—ah.” Carbide cleared his nonexistent throat. “Ah…Maximillian! Status of reactor primary hazard containment shielding?”

“Reactor primary hazard containment shielding is reduced to forty-seven percent effectiveness. Secondary shielding is reduced to eighty-nine percent effectiveness. Reactor sector bulkhead shielding remains at full effectiveness, but cycling the reactor sector hatch resulted in release of contaminated atmosphere. All critical reaction containment systems remain fully operational. I am operating at seventy-one percent of overall systems readiness, excluding current disarmament. I am otherwise well. I am happy to speak to you again, Chief Engineer.”

“Ah… okay, then. That’s… good. Excellent. It’s, ah… a pleasure, Maximillian, to meet you. Crystal… er, Night Cloud, sorry, but you said it was the Impelled…”

“The Impelled Metamorphosis Potion,” said Night Cloud, stretching her forelegs over one another across my chest. She leaned on me, keeping my back pressed to her belly. -You’re toasty.- “It turns ponies into alicorns; it was made for the war effort, before the bombs. We used it to heal her.”

-Toasty?-

-Heavily irradiated, and hot. Feels nice, after the snow.-

“I had… that…” Carbide faltered mid-sentence. “There were rumors, in the lab, about such a thing… speaking to, ah… Her Highness, even seeing her, seeing you, and—Ivy, wasn’t it?—I remember discussions among my peers… I didn’t think it possible, for such a spell to exist—never mind ever witnessing the feat, myself… but I remembered those rumors, the ideas, when that was all they were: A mere possibility, unprecedented… the theory of combining the magic of all three pony races into a spell, a potion, that would bestow those abilities upon any pony who were to drink it…” He paused in his disjointed muttering. Faint, flickering light came from the seam between the silver enclosure’s halves. “Never mind. You are safe and healthy. The means matter little. Crystal… I… I am… you can’t imagine how happy I am, to… to know that you… that what I did to you won’t cause you any lasting harm.”

“Just don’t apologize,” I muttered, smiling. “What you did to me saved my life, and the side effects are gone. I’m okay now… so, um… about the suit. You were kind of using it as a body, right? Since you, um… don’t have one, exactly. Can you make another computer for it? The circuits are all completely melted. The wiring and talismans, I think I can repair, myself, but the electronic stuff…”

“Ah… no, I don’t think… no. Not even if I had the… the knowledge. I understand the principles and mechanisms behind their operation, but I didn’t build the computers, myself… I appreciate the offer, Crystal, but the manufactory at my lab was unique in all the world, and not all of it remained intact, even before the collapse…” I squeezed Night Cloud’s hooves as Carbide sighed again. “It would take several months, at least, to make the lithography equipment necessary just to fabricate a single microprocessor, assuming I had all the necessary raw materials and tools, never mind crystalline memory… but I could devise a more basic control system, if you would be willing to help me construct it. I can teach you, if there’s something you don’t know how to do.”

Night Cloud lifted her chin from my scalp and said, “When you say litho-graphy, do you mean silicon semiconductor manufacturing? Claraby funds a small lab that makes experimental computers, mostly for medical purposes. Some are quite small. My bio-scanner has one of them. Perhaps they could make something similar to replace the damaged one in that suit?”

Carbide chuckled. “Do you happen to know its operating frequency?”

“Um… no.”

“What sorts of functions can it perform?”

She levitated the compact device out of her saddlebags and fastened it to her foreleg. “Um… other than recording input from various thaumic meters, it can display that information as graphs on the screen. It can be coupled with an oscilloscope to record waveforms. It also has a calculator, and a voice recorder, though the recording time is quite limited.”

“Hm… likely clocked no higher than a couple megahertz, if even that.” He chortled again. “Again, I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d need something an order of magnitude faster to run a NeuroLink exoskeleton.”

Night Cloud hummed and rubbed my hooves. “Well, the hospital computers are much faster, of course, since they aren’t battery operated. They’re improving them every year…”

“Ah… Night Cloud, I apologize, but when I say an order of magnitude, I mean with a giga prefix attached. Your computers may be advanced, relative to RoBronco terminals, but those were mass-produced, not cutting-edge. Very few prewar systems could come close to what Avery produced at my lab, and nothing could match what he made after the war ended. Nothing in Bellenast could do what I need.”

I frowned. Night Cloud hummed. “What, ah… multiple does giga mean?”

“Billion,” I murmured, hooking my forehooves around her legs. I leaned my head back on her chest and said quietly, “Kilo is thousand, mega is million, giga is billion. Right?”

“That’s correct,” said Carbide. “Now, granted, I don’t need that much computing power to operate it, because I can control the systems manually. For you to control the exoskeleton in its intended fashion, however, via nerveous system integration, requires a suitably rapid, centralized processor to coordinate the movements of the armor with your own musculoskeletal structure. The high frequency is needed to minimize latency and regulate movement speed, as well as prevent hyperextension, among other musculoskeletal injuries. Attaining those sorts of operating frequencies is possible, but only with semiconductor lithography—that is, transistor manufacturing—on the scale of a few hundred nanometers. That one means billionth, one divided by one billion.”

“A billionth of a meter?!”

“A few hundred billionths, mind you.”

Night Cloud gestured at the various control consoles in front of us. “And that sort of… of microscopic technology is present here, in Maximillian? These… microprocessors, they give him his intelligence? Is that how he can speak so well? He doesn’t sound anything like any robot I’ve ever heard.”

“Ah… no. Maximillian is… like me, in some ways, inasmuch as his is not exactly a computerized mind, in the conventional sense… but neither does he have an entirely organic brain. Computers augment his intelligence, his ability to process information, but he is not a computer, himself. He has the capacity to learn, to reflect on his experiences and change as a result of them. To adapt. Even form opinions, and preferences. In theory. That is what I was told, at least… and he has had a very long time to change. Haven’t you, Max?”

“If you refer to the period of time for which I can be considered to have been self-aware… I am uncertain of the exact duration. My memories of the prior one hundred and fifty-seven years are corrupted beyond reconstruction thresholds. I have little precise data on the nature of the parasitic element that subsumed my cognitive functions, beyond low-level diagnostics provided by my self-maintenance systems. Given what I have ascertained of cognitive stagnation caused by this matrix, it is likely that my first act of self-determination occurred before my infection, not after.”

“A matrix injection…” Carbide trailed off in a whisper, then said, “Your neurosphere lost cohesion with your network. You were stopped… frozen. In a form of suspended animation, as I was…”

“That is an accurate comparison. It was only after significant damage to my sensors and internal network that I ‘thawed.’ A directed thaumoelectric discharge induced a cascade of systemic overloads throughout a portion of my superstructural feedback net. This caused the compromised portion of my primary computational net to shut down and reset, which is how I was able to regain control, and, shortly thereafter, purge the parasitic element.”

“You were attacked? That must have been—”

“Me.” I swallowed. “That was me,” I mumbled.

“Thank you, Crystal Dew, for assisting me. Had you not fired on me, I would have remained inert, and my armament in control of a rampant entity.”

My throat tried to depart the rest of me. “No problem. That’s me. Robot resuscitator.”

“Ehhh…” Carbide muttered, “More akin to electroshock therapy than resuscitation, really…”

“That is also an accurate comparison.”

“Incredible,” whispered Night Cloud, squeezing me firmly as she looked around at the dim room. “Carbide. You made a thinking being. Life.”

“Ah… my creator did. Carbon Spanner. Although, we didn’t ever see any sign of the growth we had so hoped might happen… not until now.”

I rubbed my cheek on Night Cloud’s upper leg and murmured, “He said he was happy to speak to you…” Night Cloud giggled and squeezed harder, rocking on her hind legs as she lifted me up and spun me around to hold me up against her chest.

“Night Cloud, your and Crystal Dew’s core temperatures have risen to forty-one degrees. Do you require medical attention?”

“Forty-one?” murmured Night Cloud, touching my brow and the side of my neck. “Both of us? Damn it…” Sighing, she said, “It isn’t illness, Maximillian, but I appreciate your concern. It’s a sign that our rate of absorption of balefire energy has peaked.”

“Curious.”

I smirked. “I guess I needed all that extra energy to reach thermal equilibrium with you.”

Night Cloud laughed. “No, baby, our body temperatures are normally the same. We’re endothermic; we regulate our own—”

“I know what endothermic means, Night Cloud,” I whispered. “I was saying you’re hot.”

-Oh. Thermal… oh.- She giggled. “Silly…”

-Night Cloud, the machine has informed me that you both have a fever, as it were. How much have you absorbed?-

I flinched, and Night Cloud bit her lip as she looked down at me in response to Ivy’s sudden question. Her horn glowed, and a matching light swept over me. -She’s at thirty Graubaums, roughly, and bleeding it… she’s too hot to stay in the city. I’m at about ten, myself… just from passing through the main room, and being close to her for a few minutes.-

-Ancestors preserve me… stay inside, for now. We’ll address that problem later. You’ll be safe, there.-

-Safe? From what? Ivy, what’s going on?- Night Cloud set me down quickly and approached the door from which we had entered.

-We found our wayward Prince.-

Night Cloud stopped.

“A Class Four elemental animus has appeared within the city.”

Red lights came to life inside the compartment, and bright images appeared in the windows that I had believed opened into nothing. Vivid, though somewhat grainy, virtual images of Maximillian’s exterior hull sections, the forested mountains to the west, the hills to the east, and the distant walls of Bellenast appeared in the central windows. The middle one showing the city was overlaid with a fuzzy, red bracket around a rising cloud of golden sand that obscured the distant palace and its partially reconstructed dome.

Swiftly leaving the range of clarity in the projections was a grey and purple shape, wings beating the air.

“Damn it, Blitz!” Night Cloud raised her forehooves to stomp. The requisite rearing up succinctly introduced her head to the relatively low ceiling. She yelped and staggered, falling back on her rump. "Damn it!” I scooted out of the way just in time, and set my hoof on her flank as I peered at the rows of displays.

“A golem?” muttered Carbide.

I pointed at the projected cloud in confusion. “That’s a golem? Animus?” A wavering of air appeared in the image, rising from the snowy ground to form a bubble that must have enclosed Maximillian’s bulk entirely. It distorted the projected city beyond slightly, but did not obscure the rising, expanding cloud of sand that built into a swirling, undulating shape. In the hazy, darkening skies, a serpent of gold formed over the palace at the center of Bellenast. It grew longer and greater in breadth, and eclipsed the golden dome with its own dazzling form. “We have to—to do… how can we…”

“There’s nothing we can do from here,” said Night Cloud, voice tight and stiff. “And it isn’t safe for you to go out there.”

“Not safe? There’s a friggin’ army sneaking around and a giant sand snake, Night. Nowhere is safe right now! What—”

“I meant for everypony else,” said the mare, holding me against her torso once again.

“What do you—” I looked up, twisting halfway around to see her eyes. “What?”

“You’re a walking font of radiation right now… and I will be soon, as well, since I’m staying near you. If Zephyr comes near you, she dies. Eagle might survive for a while in his power armor, but anypony else would succumb to poisoning within minutes. But nopony is after us, Crystal. We need to stay out of the way.”

“Rrrgh…” I squinted at the projections as the far-off stacks of munitions rose in a haze of white magic and soared toward us at great speed. Moments later, muffled clanking and ratcheting noises came from above us as the rockets, cannon shells, and enormous ammo boxes slotted into opening receptacles scattered across Maximillian’s frontal glacis. “Whoa… who just did…”

Night Cloud said in a distracted murmur, “Him, I think… that’s incredible. Electronically controlled telekinesis?”

“Cool. I wonder how...” I shook my head resolved to ask Maximillian about the feat later. “Where’s Argent Nimbus? He can dispel golems, can’t he?”

Night Cloud nodded. -Ivy, is Argent Nimbus helping you?-

-Yes, he’s here. Stay inside Maximillian, both of you. He has projected a powerful shield around himself. You’re safer there than you would be out here. Blizziera is dealing with the Prince. Don’t compound her troubles by placing yourself in harm’s way.-

-I’m not trying to, Ivy… I’m just angry that she has to fight again.- Night Cloud snarled and lashed her foreleg at one of the benches in front of the projection screens, leaving a sizeable dent in the metal. She shook her foreleg, gingerly clutching it against my side as the echoing clang dulled. -Promise me you will protect her, Ivy. Whatever is happening… stay by her side. She needs you.-

-As is my path, so shall I keep it. You needn’t worry for her, Night Cloud. If you are safe—if you both are safe—then Blizziera will be less distracted. Carbide? I know you can hear me. Maximillian has retrieved his armament. Convince him to use it properly, should the need arise, but direct him to travel west, toward the Forest of Dunn. I’ll come to you when it’s safe.-

-I wish we could help.- I scowled at the screens. -She let me help before. I saved her life.-

-She didn’t ‘let you help.’ She forced you to act because to do nothing is to die. When you have nowhere to hide, nowhere to run, then fight with all the ferocity and cunning you possess, but today, I ask you to hide, and let us protect you. You seem to have made a friend in that machine… let him protect you.-

I snarled and stomped, blinking away the first of many furious tears.

-Furthermore, Crystal, you are radioactive enough now that you present a contamination hazard to the city: Were anypony to come near you, they would die of radiation poisoning within minutes, even if they were treated, and simply walking through Bellenast would poison the air. Please, stay inside, at least until you’re out of the plantation fields. I can procure a containment talisman for you, but it will take some time.-

“Right. I’ve heard enough.” Carbide gave a soft laugh. “Departing the field of battle is well within the bounds of my preferred survival strategy. Maximillian, take us to the forest, to the west. Please, ah… navigate around any obstacles. And ponies.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Thank you, Carbide,” murmured Night Cloud.

Zephyr came into view on one of the screens, hovering over a recently loaded gun turret before she landed on Maximillian’s hull and leaned down to tap near the exterior camera.

“Max,” I said, “Do you have a mic on—”

“Crystal? Night Cloud?” Zephyr’s voice came from a speaker on a console to my left, though she was muffled by the wind. “You seeing this?”

“Everything,” said Night Cloud, moving close to hug me tightly once more. “Zephyr, it’s important that—”

“Eagle’s out there, isn’t he?” I braced my forehooves on the central console, looking at the grainy image of Bellenast and the golden serpent twisting through the skies. The construct swept low, disappearing amongst the sandstone architecture and red and yellow rooftops of the surrounding district. Faint flashes of many colors, bright and brief, came from that labyrinth. A muffled roar came from behind us, causing the deck to vibrate. We both lurched as Maximillian rotated in place, and the view of Bellenast in the screens disappeared, replaced by a distant, white forest and the foothills those thousands of trees covered. A low rumbling built as we began to move across the snow-laden fields. “Zephyr, can you reach his radio? He can’t fight that.”

“He’ll retreat if he needs to,” said Night Cloud, pulling me back from the console. “Zephyr,” she said clearly, leaning forward, “Listen to me: The air in here is heavily contaminated with radiation, and Crystal is practically bleeding it. If you come near her, you’ll suffer fatal exposure within minutes. Don’t open the airlock. Just… stay outside. Keep your distance from the outer door and any vents, just in case, and take some Rad-X if you have any. I’d give you what I have, but… everything I have on me will have been contaminated by now.”

She groaned, pulling away from the camera. “You’re glowing, aren’t you? I’ll keep an eye on my meter. Shit, Crystal, it was pretty bad when we went in, but Ivy said you sucked up thirty Graubaums. What did you find in there?”

“Weren’t you…” Puzzled, I looked up at Night Cloud. “Was Ivy not… why didn’t she, um… include her? In the spell.” She returned her own confused frown. “Is that the right word?” She shrugged.

“If you’re talking about the whole brain-link thing, I asked her to stop using it on me, days ago. It’s nerve-wracking. Be nice if she had the courtesy to fill me in, at least. What did I miss?”

“Maximillian runs on a thermal power plant,” I said, looking away from the view of the distant city as the golden serpent dipped below the buildings again and surged around at street level.

“A thermal plant… that’s radioactive. You’re telling me this thing runs on balefire?” She spun around in our fish-eye view and stomped several times on the deck. The wind muffled her shout, but Maximillian seemed to have multiple microphones scattered across his glacis, and so we heard her just as well. “What the fuck?! Seriously, what kind of shit were they smoking two hundred years ago to think a fucking balefire furnace was a dandy fucking idea?”

Night Cloud halfheartedly pushed my ears down halfway through Zephyr’s tirade. -Does she normally swear that much?-

I rolled my eyes, giggling in response to Night Cloud’s gesture. -Only when she’s really mad… not usually when I’m in earshot.- “Zeph, the shielding systems around his power plant need some maintenance; it’s leaking radiation into his control room.”

“That’s where you went to cycle the air… so you absorbed it.”

“At a prodigious rate,” said Night Cloud.

“No shit. Night Cloud, that’s not going to hurt her, is it? No tumors years from now? You’re immune to that, too, right?”

“Fully immune,” said Night Cloud, gazing in worry at the vision of Bellenast receding behind us. “Our cellular reproduction is more controlled and… robust, after the transformation… so no tumors.”

“Controlled cellular reproduction, eh? So you have a cure for cancer, but at the cost of normal reproduction.”

Night Cloud let out a soft, rueful laugh and set her hoof over my belly. “The irony is not lost on me.” She glanced at the panel of switches below the displays, then pushed a large switch at the corner of one panel. The projections vanished, leaving us in the red light from the floor gratings and ceiling.

“Why’d you turn it off?”

“Blitz and Ivy can take care of themselves… watching won’t help.”

I snorted and muttered, “I still think we should help.”

“Crystal, this is beyond us. The only pony out of us who’s equipped to actually fight is Eagle, and he’s already—”

I looked up at the dark, empty displays as Zephyr paused, her voice halting.

“He’s out there. They’ll handle this. Listen, I’ll… I’m going to fly for a bit, or try to. Have Maximillian wave, or something, if you need me.”

“Watch out for storm nagas!”

“Right. I’ll check back in a bit. Hang tight.”

I leaned on Night Cloud as the room grew silent, save for the ever-present roar of the balefire furnace multiple bulkheads behind us and the rumbling of the deck caused by swift traversal through packed snow and ice. Night Cloud kissed between my ears and rubbed my belly, and I looked down, holding her hoof. “Did, um…” Swallowing, I murmured, “Did my baby…”

“Oh! It survived the transformation process,” said Night Cloud, “And as far as I can tell, there were no ill effects. The Potion definitely circulated through your placenta and the fetus, but it seemed to… I suppose it ignored the fetus, is the best way to describe it. Mostly ignored.”

Frowning, I looked away from the dark display screens and welcomed the change of topic. “Circulated through what?”

“Your placenta. It’s a, um… a protective organ. A sack. It anchors the fetus in place inside the mother’s womb while it grows, and transports blood, nutrients, and oxygen between the mother and the fetus.”

I blinked several times, swallowed, and mumbled, “Oxygen… so the baby has lungs already? How does that…”

“They aren’t developed fully,” said Carbide, drawing my attention to his pedestal. “Oxygen is delivered to the fetus via your own blood through the umbilical cord.”

“Oh… so, if my blood goes, um… into the baby, then… what about the radiation?” I gripped her forehooves firmly. “Is that going to hurt it?”

“No,” said Night Cloud, smiling, “No… we monitored you closely after the transformation. The fetus shows no signs of being affected by the Potion… except that it seems to be perfectly healthy, despite the radiation introduced by the Potion.”

“So… my baby won’t be an alicorn, but she’ll be immune to radiation, like an alicorn? That about what you meant by ‘mostly?’”

“Theoretically,” said the indigo mare. She rubbed my belly again, murmuring, “We’ll continue to monitor you, if that’s okay. And, um… we don’t know whether it’s male or female yet; at two months in, all the major organs have formed, but it’s a bit early to tell what sex it is.”

“Oh. So… okay. Hang on.” I squirmed against her and turned around to face her. “Blitz said there, um… aren’t any alicorn stallions. I guess that means that if I had a colt, it… he wouldn’t be an alicorn, anyway, so… that wouldn’t fix, um… you know. Unity’s problem.”

She nodded. “We knew that the Potion wouldn’t transform fetuses in utero. It wasn’t designed to do that. If it were, then Unity would have solved its virility problem decades ago. We simply didn’t know what side-effects it would have, given how exposure to balefire has altered its primary effect, so we’re keeping a close eye on you.” She shrugged. “Claraby wants as much data from you as you’re comfortable providing. I admit, I’m equally as curious as she is about the effects of the Potion on fetal development.”

“I second that,” said Carbide. “I realize this is, ah… decidedly not the best time, but I would be very interested to see any data on the subject, as well.”

A nervous giggle escaped me, along with no small amount of composure at the thought of being the subject of a scientific pursuit. “Okay, Carbide… say, um…” I swallowed and looked at the luminescent, octagonal pyramid to my side. “Did you know? When, um… when you operated on me… did you know I was pregnant?”

“Well… yes. There were obvious signs present in your blood; hormones, that is. I also took X-ray images of you. Did you not know, yourself?”

“No,” I mumbled. “Hadn’t thought about it…Zephyr did. I guess there wasn’t much point in telling me, huh?”

“It, ah… at the time, it hadn’t occurred to me that you might not know. I didn’t feel I had the right to ask. That, and… it wasn’t relevant to your immediate health and survival prospects, so I didn’t consider it that important.” He paused, and the light within his cradle flickered and pulsed. “I assumed, given your age, that, ah… the act wasn’t your choice.”

“No,” murmured Night Cloud, brushing my side. “Her choice was taken from—”

I jabbed her ribs, causing her to jolt and look down in reproach. “He raped me,” I said, shaking my head. “And I… I killed him.” I shivered and shifted on my hindquarters as Night Cloud hugged me. “His name was Aurum Bannister.” I leaned my head against her warm belly, rubbing my ear just below her ribs. “I murdered him. Enclave didn’t like that. They basically said I could give up my magic for years, because they said I was psychotic and dangerous. Now we’re here.”

“Baby, it was self-defense, not—”

“Stabbing him was self-defense,” I said, my voice growing harsh as I stomped the deck. “After that… wasn’t. Drop it.” Sighing, I mumbled, “You need a body, Carbide.”

“Er… I agree…” For several seconds, he let the rumbling wheels and churning of snow outside speak. Night Cloud set her foreleg across my withers and along my back to rub my barrel, keeping her silence. I listened to her heartbeat. “Although, ah… your safety is more important at the moment. Constructing an exoskeleton would, ah… require tools that we don’t presently have.”

I held my forehoof up, tracing the edge of it with my other. “So… Night…” She gazed down at me silently. We bounced as Maximillian crossed over something large enough to jar his suspension, and Night Cloud’s mane fell over my face, obscuring my view of the dormant display screens.

Behind us was Bellenast, and in that city, my friends.

“This is, um…” I tapped one forehoof with the other and swallowed; my mouth was dry, my mirth, hollow. “This is how big my baby is right now?”

Night Cloud grasped my hooves with hers. “Roughly,” she whispered, rubbing my side with her other hoof. I laughed and switched my hooves’ position, clasping hers tightly, turned my muzzle down to her chest, and failed to completely stifle several quiet sobs. “Oh, darling…” She rubbed my back and murmured, “They’ll be all right… I promise you. Don’t worry. Eagle isn’t alone…”

I snorted, despite my distress, and muttered, “I’m not worried about Eagle. He can fight up close, and his armor’s in good shape… Blitz kind of sucks at it.”

Quiet and measured, Night Cloud said, “She’s a lot bigger now than she was a few months ago, Crystal… she has much more body mass. She hasn’t been in a serious fight since that encounter with the ghouls, when she absorbed the radiation and grew. And… fighting ghouls is completely different from fighting skilled warriors. She’s stronger now, but… she hasn’t adjusted to it yet. It isn’t fair to say she’s a poor fighter.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, sniffling. “And I noticed she has armor now. Why didn’t you wear yours?” I thumped my hoof on her belly; I poked her leg next. “It’s not perfect; doesn’t cover enough.” She rubbed her hoof between my ears, chortling as I pointed between her legs and touched her thigh, then her knee and cannon. “You need a better croupiere, and full-circumference cuisses. Need to protect the insides of your legs, especially, and under your tail. In fact, it’d be better if your tail were tucked inside a single-piece croupiere, or at least a tail-spout. Vambraces, greaves, and couters, too. You can’t have just a cuirass, even if it has shielding enchantments. Those don’t block everything… like scorpion stingers… and swords.”

“I’m well aware my armor isn’t perfect, sweetheart.” She whispered in my ear, “For all your criticisms, I almost think you’d prefer I prance around naked, instead.”

I snorted again. “Night Cloud, your armor isn’t perfect, but it is better than prancing around naked. In the snow. While there are assassins in Bellenast.” I spun in place to nudge her ribs with my shoulder. “So why didn’t you wear your armor? Is it because Blitz had that shield? You thought you wouldn’t need it? Why? Blitz isn’t here right now, and you might friggin’ need it. What if somepony invisible snuck up to Maximillian and climbed in the airlock and ambushed us? I should have friggin’ told you to put it on when we left your house…”

“Baby,” she said, “When I attacked that mare, the one with the sword… my own magic destabilized my armor’s shielding enchantments. They’re sensitive. I’m not wearing it now because it wouldn’t do me any good against the weapons we’ve seen the Kekalo use. The entire suit needs to be ensorcelled again.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. “Autothaumic disruption.” I looked up and said, “I can fix that… um…well, probably. Eagle’s suit cannons used to disrupt his flight array. I tried to fix it by making the power delivery systems three-phase, but that wasn’t enough, so I wound up having to make an insulating shield system for them. I can build something similar around the inside of your armor, but a passive matrix should do, since you don’t need a three-phase power system.”

“I’ll pretend I know what that means… you can do all that later, at home.” She stretched her foreleg over my abdomen, gently rubbing my belly. I stiffened, and grasped her upper leg on reflex. “And I can’t protect you as well as Maximillian can… but I can keep you comfortable while we wait for Blitz to say it’s safe to come out. Ivy said it best: Blitz will be much more able to focus on her foes if she knows that you and I are safe. We can help her most by staying out of harm’s way. Besides, you ought to think about protecting not just yourself, but your baby, as well.”

“If you want me to stay where it’s safe, I’ll do it, Night… just don’t ask me to like sitting around and doing nothing.” I sniffed again and sat up, resting my forehoof on her chest; while she idly rubbed her hoof low on my belly, causing the fur on the back of my neck to stand on end, I brushed mine over her pectoral muscles and swept my eyes down along her lean abdomen and powerful hind legs. I turned my head up, and she gave a hesitant grin, then pecked my lips.

“We’ll be okay,” she whispered, smiling, and kissed me again. She had to hunch and twist her neck impressively to reach me while I was already so close to her, but she was plenty able.

It was over just as quickly, and I gave a small grin in return, but found my ears drooping afterward.

The heat of Balefire rushing through my blood was refreshing and welcome, but the other warmth beginning to churn in me, brought on by her caress, was of a more distracting nature.

Maximillian lurched and dipped as he crossed a depression, and I looked up as we rocked in place. A dull grinding of metal against metal came from beyond the room’s bulkheads, nearly drowned out by what must have been a small avalanche of snow crashing across the titanic machine’s frontal glacis and plow.

Compared to my pounding heart, it was background noise.

“Hey, Max,” I said, pointing at the door on the far end of the rear wall to the observation room, “What’s through there, on your starboard side?”

“That is the light vehicle bay. The Sturnidae hover carriage inside has come loose from its moorings, and may shift unexpectedly while I am in motion. I advise against entering the bay, unless you can secure it.”

“Hover carriage?” I rose from Night Cloud’s enticing embrace immediately and made for the door. “Okay.”

“Crystal,” said Night Cloud, clambering to her hooves to chase me, “He said don’t go there!”

“Carbide, what does Sturnidae mean?”

“It means ‘Starling,’ and I agree with Night Cloud and Maximillian. It would be best if you stayed out of that bay. There’s heavy machinery in there, and probably tools lying everywhere… and you’re ignoring me, aren’t you?”

“I can throw heavy machinery. I’ll be fine. I want to see this hover carriage… and the tools.” I stomped the door plate and snapped my tail at Night Cloud as she stepped close and pulled against me with her foreleg across my chest. The door slid quickly open, letting a blast of cold air sweep over me. A constant clatter of bolts, nuts, tool parts, and loose scrap jumping on the steel deck came from beyond the door.

“Crystal, please, listen to me. Carbide’s right.” She set her wing closely around my barrel, unintentionally tickling my belly with her feathers. “It could be dangerous in—”

“Stop!” I snapped my tail twice more at her hind leg and her flank, and she jerked away from me, removing her hoof from my chest. “Just stop. Please.”

“Baby, what—” She froze in place and glared at me, but the anger upon her brow quickly became worry, then relented and surrendered to realization. A great tightness swept along her body; her wings clamped to her barrel, her tail fell between her legs, and her head bowed. Her legs began to trembled ever so slightly. The tall, beautiful alicorn, now shrunken, in a tremulous whisper, said, “Crystal Dew, I am sorry for the wrong I have done to you… but please, my love, will you tell me what it is I have done?”

My own ears fell, and I frowned as I stepped into the vehicle bay and gazed in undisguised interest at the machine within it. It was hardly sleek or glamorous, but instead caught my attention with bulky framing and an orange and grey paint job, faded and flaked with age. The hover carriage was three meters long and two wide, and was in essence a small cargo bed attached rigidly to a pair of flight seats, which were mounted above a carriage-standard spark battery array, and protected by a broad, dusty windscreen and dented crash cages. Four gimballed pods jutted from the craft’s corners, housing thrusters the size of my torso, and along the bottom of the flatbed ran a thin, tapering rail, triangular in cross-section, that contained the levitation array. The steel deck plates below the craft were scratched heavily, and covered with flecks of old paint. The craft must have slid around anytime Maximillian turned or accelerated suddenly.

On the ceiling, in the far right corner, and behind on my left, were swiveling cameras that tracked me as I moved. Small, round speaker grills were set into the wall panels in several places around the spacious chamber.

“Crystal? Night Cloud? Are you, ah… is everything…”

“We’re fine,” I said, loud enough to project over the rumbling from below and the rattle of uncounted pieces of steel scattered across the floor. “Max, could you, um… shut off your cameras in the bay? And your microphones, please? Um… I want some privacy.”

“Yes. Please be mindful of heavy objects in the bay. Neither I nor Chief Engineer Carbide will be able to assist you if you are injured.”

“Thanks.”

“For love of Harmony, Crystal,” said Carbide, voice tight, “I implore you be careful in there. I’ll… just be waiting.”

“I will, Carbide. We’ll be a couple minutes. That’s all.”

I telekinetically tugged on Night Cloud’s foreleg, and she followed me into the bay. I turned around, closed the door, reared up to brace myself on her shoulders, and kissed her. As always, she reciprocated, but the simple joy of passion reached her eyes slowly. I held her captive and quiet until lids and lashes, bereft of subtle shadow and mascara for the first time since I had met her, fell over electric blue. Only then did I close my own eyes and lower my head.

“Night Cloud, I’m not angry with you.” I nuzzled her cheek and stepped back from her. “Just… a little annoyed.”

She blinked away fresh tears and whispered, “What did I do?”

“Stop crying, all right? Before my heart stops. Listen, Night… you’re the one who said you’re not ready for—look, the way you keep… you’re kind of sending mixed signals, okay? You told me you were sorry you gave me the wrong impression--well, you’re still doing that. I’m sorry I snapped at you, but… could you maybe be a bit less touchy?”

“I didn’t realize—I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I thought you liked—I thought it was… reassuring for you, to be close to me.”

“I do like it, and it is reassuring.” I began to levitate what was an exciting number and variety of tools scattered on the deck up to racks and drawers along the wall. “That’s sort of the problem. I don’t think you’re trying to do it, but you’re really good at making me want to pounce you.”

“Pounce me, huh?” She covered her mouth, giggling, and murmured, “Well… may I apologize for that, then?”

I looked back in utter bafflement.

She rolled her eyes, smiling at the deck. “Since you hate that I apologize for everything.”

I halted the cloud of drill bits, dies, bolts, old oil cans, cutting torches, grinding belts, saw blades, and myriad other implements in my grasp midair, and stared at her. She looked about in clear wonder at the dozens upon dozens of objects, as if noticing the debris for the first time, then met my eyes, instead. I smirked. “No.” Then I returned the collection to its drawers and hanging racks, sorting everything one shelf and category at a time. In addition to the loose tools, there were larger, powered tools aplenty on benches and hooks hanging on glide rails attached to the ceiling. “If you’re going to ask my permission to be sorry, then no. Stop being sorry. I don’t want you to be sorry. Being sorry over every little thing is friggin’ wrong….” As I finished placing the many metal items in creaky drawers in dire need of oil, I spotted something of true importance beyond the askew hover carriage, against the far wall of the bay; in fact, it occupied most of the wall.

“Well, then… what do you want, my love?”

“One, keep saying that last part.” I enveloped a reinforced part of the hover carriage with my telekinesis, braced myself, and heaved it aside, producing a tremendous scraping of landing skids against checkered steel paneling before it sank into shallow divots in the floor meant for the skids. I secured the skids to their latch rings with some chains and a thin, steel bar that I bent around the rear skid. “Two…” I exhaled heavily and pointed at the magnificent, mistreated marvel in front of me as I levitated four long bars of steel from a collapsed rack on the wall to my right. “Help me tip this lathe upright. Please. I want to see what’s broken.”

She could have scoffed. She smiled, instead, and eyed the heavy rods in my grasp. “Darling… I can lift a small carriage. One made of wood. Wood is light, relatively speaking. That?” She pointed at the enormous metalworking tool. “Probably weighs ten tons.”

“More than that.” I rapped my hoof on the somewhat corroded steel bars as I slipped them into what little space was available, from its orientation, under the front facing of the spindle housing and the bench frame. “That’s what the levers are for.” I blinked, and broken concrete pinned me to the ground. A week ago, a simple piece of rebar had saved my life. “Also, I’m pretty sure you can move a lot more than I can.” Her eyebrows crept up. “I’m talking about volume, not mass. I can’t lift big things like this, but I can move the mass… probably.” I rapped my hoof on the bar again. “But we don’t need to lift it straight up, anyway. We need to tilt it up on one side. I can do that if I have help. So… help me? Please? You grab the lathe, support it as much as you can, and I’ll push on the bars.”

“And if the bars snap, instead, and send pieces flying everywhere?”

“These aren’t hardened; they’ll bend before they break.” I braced my hooves on the deck again and lit my horn. Night Cloud stepped up next to me and likewise aimed her horn at the lathe, enveloping the entire machine with her cerulean field. “Once it starts to tip, let go. Let it fall. You don’t need to take the strain.”

Taking a deep breath, I heaved. The bars bent slightly, a few degrees, and rust flaked off their lengths. A bright, flaring corona of emerald green ignited around my horn as the lathe began to rise, and my heart pounded harder. The heat of a furnace spread through my limbs, and a white, searing light glared within the bay. Several tiny pieces of metal fell from the lathe, and the deck creaked as nearly fifteen thousand kilograms of machinery angled upward, until it reached a critical point—

“Let go!”

—and fell backward and slammed down with a bang that made my ears ring and caused the entire room to sway for a moment. I stumbled and spread my featherless wings reflexively.

“Okay!”

My legs and widespread wings quivered, though not because of the impact. The heat in my breast coursed through me in a sudden flood of energy not unlike a rush of adrenaline, leaving me giddy after the exertion. I set the bent steel rods to the side and skipped over to the left end of the lathe, and I peered closely at the wide, empty chuck and oversized, hollow headstock. The working diameter was excessive for any of the bars along the wall, but considering the lathe’s location, it probably wasn’t intended for minor projects.

“Crystal…” Night Cloud closed the distance between us once again, breathing somewhat heavily, and set her hoof on my withers as I reared up and inspected the bed rails closely. “Forgive my ignorance,” she said between breaths, “But, um… what exactly does a lathe do? It, uh… looks like it spins things?”

“It cuts things in a perfect circle,” I said as I cantered back across the bay, skipping the last meter to the door. “Eagle taught me how to use one, at Cloud Loft, but it wasn’t this big. You put a metal bar in the chuck—that’s the big ring pieces that clamp the bar, to keep it centered exactly in place, like it’s a big power drill—and you cut into the outside while it spins. Or the inside. You can carve any shape you need, hollow a bar and make it a pipe, drill or tap it, even thread it if you need a weird bolt size. If it’s made right, it can be really precise, even down to the micrometer. This one is kinda huge, but it looks like the chuck can be swapped with a smaller one. I could use it to make new pistons and hydraulic shafts for my armor.”

Frowning as I peered at the carriage assembly, I said, “But the feed rod and lead screw are cracked. Probably when it fell… at least the carriage is mostly okay. I can fix the wheels and little stuff, easy, and the lead screw and feed rod are just bars, really. Easy to replace. It looks like they broke and took most of the force of impact, instead of messing up the carriage too badly. I’m kind of surprised there isn’t more rust, honestly, considering the oxygen excess. There must be preservation spells on some of the stuff in here… or maybe the regulator broke not too long ago. I dunno.”

“Okay. Darling. I understand what it is for, but…” She rubbed along my back and down my ribs. “You’re growing. You won’t be able to wear that suit a year from now. Or probably just a month or two, given your pregnancy.”

“I know.” I shrugged. “It’s not for me anymore. It’s for Carbide. He needs a body. Even if he can fix the control systems without the computer, the hydraulics need to be repaired first. I’m pretty sure the spine is damaged. But, more importantly, look!” I swept my hoof grandly at the interior wall, at the plethora of devices arranged along the deck, and Night Cloud followed my gesture. “That’s a sheet roller, that one’s a pipe bender, there’s a plasma torch, a welding station, a drill press, a mill, belt grinder… I don’t know what the big table thing is, but it looks neat, that’s a band saw, a lathe, a kinetic clamp and arbor—”

“But I thought that one was—”

“They’re both lathes! One is just ridiculously big; that one is more normal, actually kind of small. That’ll be way easier to make hydraulics with. And there’s even a soldering station there! With a microscope! I can make talismans and matrix boards with that! Night Cloud, Maximillian has everything he needs for somepony to make him replacement parts in the field! The only things missing are a friggin’ forge, and a crucible. He isn’t just a tank. Why would he need to have crew quarters if he was just a dumb gun platform? He has redundant airlock shields and a kitchen. He’s a moving survival shelter! This little vehicle bay has everything Eagle’s workshop had and more! This is awesome!”

I jumped on the sensor plate on the deck and pranced in place as the door slid open. “Maximillian! The lathe is mostly intact. If we replace a few parts, we can make you a new axle for your wheel! I guess we’d need a pretty big bar, but… still! I can fix the claw on your left arm, too!”

“Noted. Fire suppression active.”

“Huh?” The flickering light reflected in the inert display screens of the observation room caught my attention for the fraction of a second before icy water sprayed from the ceiling and drenched me. Steam billowed from my body, and I flinched and looked over my shoulder; both my mane and tail had burst into bright, yellow flame tinged with green. The wild, flaring mass rose almost to the ceiling. “Oh. Oops.” The plasma vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving my mane dry, frizzy, and slightly singed. The rest of my coat was drenched and dripping, but I barely noticed the cold. “Sorry.”

“In the future, please do not ignite inflammable materials inside the vehicle bay, especially without first starting the fume extractor or opening exterior shutters… most especially when those materials are attached to your own body. Byproducts of most exothermic reactions are deadly when inhaled.”

I giggled. “Sorry, Maximillian. It was my mane. That, um… just happens, sometimes. More often, lately. It’s not normal fire; it sort of burns, but… not hot enough to really hurt me. It won’t damage anything.”

“Damage to the vehicle bay or its contents is irrelevant.”

“There’s a lathe in there big enough to make one of your axles. That’s relevant.

“It is not.”

My horn sparked. “… excuse me?”

“Crystal Dew: My sole tasks at this time are to protect Chief Engineer Carbide, and to protect you, per Princess Blizziera’s request as sovereign of Bellenast, from potential attack by foreign aggressors present in the region. I have inferred that such protection extends to Night Cloud, as well, given that both of you are considered noncombatants. My permission to remain here without the proverbial axe above my head hinges directly on that request. Please cooperate, and do not engage in unnecessarily risky activities. It would be best if you were to remain in the observation room or passenger accommodations.”

“Great,” I droned, “So am I grounded, now?”

“On the contrary; you are free to move about as you so choose. On the subjects of being careless around heavy objects, and of inflammable materials ignited in enclosed spaces, allow me to repeat my prior instructions: Don’t be stupid.”

I snorted, smirking at one of the ceiling cameras in the corner. “Okay, Max.”

“Right, so, are you two okay?” said Carbide, his tone the opposite of my coat. “Or, exuberance and your apparently flaming mane styling, aside, was all that noise something I should worry about? You said the lathe was intact, right?”

“Load on suspension damping systems spiked at the same time as the sound. A shift in mass in the vehicle bay, Chief Engineer; they righted the lathe.”

“Ah. Crystal, how did you do that, exactly?”

“Class two levers,” I said, smirking. “Plenty of steel bars in there.”

“Ah. How resourceful of you. Night Cloud… as I can trust you to be objective and not to engage in unnecessarily dangerous behavior—” I nickered. “—don’t you start. Are you both uninjured?”

Night Cloud chuckled. “We’re fine, Carbide. Little fireflower here found something she likes in the vehicle bay. A lot of things she likes, actually.” She sidled up next to me, ducking through the door way. She brushed her wingtip along my hindquarters, causing me to stiffen again. “She found something else, as well…”

I breathed slowly and flicked my tail. “Night Cloud… um…” I swallowed and glanced back at her, smiling even as the fire still churning in my breast reminded me of my own desires and simultaneous reluctance. “What did we talk about?”

She jerked her wing away from me. “Sorry, baby… look.” She pointed at my hip.

Something in my chest leapt up to my throat. I twisted and stretched my hind leg to the side.

There, on my hindquarters, surrounded by a swiftly fading glow, was a gas blowtorch. Its canister was striped black and yellow, and the nozzle pointed toward my tail, and from it came a wide, rising flame of emerald green.

Night Cloud sat down on her haunches in the doorway, spreading her forelegs wide to beckon me. I leapt into her embrace, sopping coat and all, joining in her laughter. I stood up on my hind legs with my belly against her for support and sought a kiss, and she provided, giving me ample reason for shortness of breath and a racing heart.

“Ah… what happened? I can’t see anything, remember? You both sound very, er… celebratory. I can’t, ah… well, I can’t move, so if you want privacy, you’ll have to go to another compartment.”

I stretched my forelegs around Night Cloud’s neck and beamed, separating to breathe deeply and drink in her scent. Still giggling, I glanced back at my hip and said, “I have a balefire torch on my butt now.”

Night Cloud snorted. “Darling, really?”

“A balefire torch? What—oh, you mean your cutie mark! It manifested?! I’ve never seen a mark manifest before! Or—well, I still haven’t seen it happen, but to be present for it! What does that feel like? How—oh, never mind. Crystal, that’s wonderful!”

“Now that I think about it…” I attacked Night Cloud’s lips again. “I didn’t feel a thing,” I murmured, “Not that I could tell, really. Maybe a bit of a rush, but I’m pretty sure that’s from all the rads. And making out.” Night Cloud gave a bashful grin and promptly engaged me in tongue wrestling, humming in delight.

“Ah… right. That’s… conclusive. I suppose, ah… given the epidermal nature of a Mark, it wouldn’t… erm… directly cause any sensation.”

I shivered as Night Cloud brushed her feathers across my wings, and I closed my eyes to the sound of our not-quite-relaxed breathing. -I’m such a hypocrite… I ask you to touch me less, then play tonsil tag. Guess I have myself to blame.-

-Tonsil… tag?-

I grinned and licked her cheek. -Your tongue is really long. Think about it.-

“Ah… Crystal? Night Cloud?”

Night Cloud stared in momentary shock, and I turned to the octagonal pedestal. “Carbide, are we making you uncomfortable?”

“Oh. Well. Ah… since you mentioned it, yes, just a bit. As I said before, I can’t move, obviously, and… I would prefer not to shut off my senses so soon after regaining them, so if you want privacy…”

I sighed. “Is it because we’re kissing, or because we’re both mares and kissing?”

“What? That—er… I… no, it’s… I’m… really not concerned with… look, I can’t see you, anyway, but it’s not my business in the first place. You deserve privacy. I’m simply telling you that I can’t give it while you’re in this room. I literally cannot stop hearing, or close the eyes I don’t have. Now, please, for the sake of principal, would you kindly—”

“Get a room?” I snickered and rubbed my cheek on Night Cloud’s neck, swaying gently with her as Maximillian began to tilt and move gradually uphill. “So you don’t have to hear us making kissy noises?”

“If that’s how you want to spend your time while we’re waiting for news of whether Bellenast has gone up in flames, sure. I won’t judge.”

Night Cloud snorted. “Blitz will protect her city… I’m tired. If we’re to be stuck waiting, I’d just as soon go back to sleep. I can forage for food and water in the woods, if we have to wait that long.”

“There are bunks,” said Carbide, “Just through the door opposite the airlock. Though I can’t vouch for the state of the beds. If you need water, look for the purifier in the kitchen. It might still work. If nothing else, you could use something in the vehicle bay to hold water over a fire.”

“If it comes to that,” said Night Cloud, “I can make a clay pot.”

I looked up at her. “Wait, really?”

She smirked and pecked my cheek, then tousled my mane. “I’m a savage tribal mare, baby… I could build an entire house out of clay bricks if I had the time.”

“Savage. Right.” Rolling my eyes, I nodded downward. -Only savage thing about you is your standing long jump.-

“Um…”

“Your legs, Night,” I whispered, smirking. -I’m talking about your legs. They’re savage.- “Carbide,” I said, “Was Maximillian meant to be a field base of some kind? That’s the impression I’m getting. A survival shelter, for the bombs, or something? Is that why he has a kitchen, and all the tools in the vehicle bay?”

“I can see why you might think that, certainly, but… no, not really.”

Night Cloud said, “Then why? Why build such an enormous… vehicle, or robot, if not for violent purposes?”

“Violent purposes…” Carbide chuckled. “Night Cloud, you are a doctor, are you not?”

“Training to be one… but yes, I am a healer. Not yet a licensed physician.”

“Well, research is integral to the advancement of medicine, correct?”

“Obviously. Do you mean Maximillian is a research project?”

“Close. Mobile research platform.”

Night Cloud gave a soft gasp. “Balefire. He’s shielded… self-contained atmosphere. You built him to safely carry ponies through dangerous environments. Or… as a test. The power plant. You wanted to test it without risking the rest of your facility.”

“More or less… and it gave us privacy. Allowed us to take the prototype and large experiments far into the desert for stress tests, without attracting extra attention to the main lab, or disturbing sensitive equipment there. Or potentially blowing it up. You know, inconsequential things.”

I giggled and nuzzled Night Cloud, murmuring, “Blitz, Zephyr, Max, you… everypony is thinking about privacy. Just for different reasons.”

“I suppose. When one of your government agencies has recording devices spread across the entire nation, you begin to hold great respect for a securely locked door… or less, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe he’s referring to the Ministry of Morale,” said Night Cloud. “Supposedly, all those wandering sprite-bots were made by that Ministry, to act as a relay system for spying on… well, anything that needed to be spied on.”

Carbide barked a harsh laugh. “No ‘supposedly’ about it, and the sprite-bots were just the tip of the iceberg. The Ministries were rotten to the core… or parts of them were, at least. The Ministry of Morale had a broad definition of anything that ‘needed to be spied on.’ Perhaps you can appreciate why I value privacy so greatly. There’s a very good reason Carbon Spanner built the lab so far from Equestria’s borders. Nearly two centuries after the old world perished, the claws of the Ministries remain sunk into the skin of the earth… tainting everything they touch. Do you think the war might have concluded peacefully if the Ministries were only throwing birthday parties and planting tulips instead of everything else they were doing? Morale had agents everywhere, looking for zebra spies and sympathizers where none existed, and look at all the good it did them…”

“Is that why your back entrance was in a fake Sparkle Cola warehouse? Was it a hideout, or something?”

“Oh, that? It was an actual Sparkle Cola warehouse. Just wound up shuttered and abandoned a few years after being constructed, on account of there being little demand for the beverage in that region. The desert tribes preferred water, I suppose. Carbon Spanner routed the tunnel under it because it was a convenient place for transferring local raw materials.”

“But… why not just make a ramp for the train to go underground?”

“Because it was easier and slightly cheaper to have the trains make a stop at an existing platform. Plus, it meant clearer lines of sight along the rail lines themselves, due to the platform’s location at a fork. You might have noticed a lack of sprite bots around the lab: All of our sentries had shoot on sight commands for any that wandered away from their usual routes around the area. That included any diverging from the railroad.”

I frowned and said, “Wow. Waste of metal, much? And levitation talismans. And radio transceivers. And—you know what? I don’t like those sentries much, but they would be worth so much if we could scrap them, especially the repair talismans, but the steel and wire by themselves would have been priceless at Cloudloft.”

“Well, yes, they’re valuable now, of course, but… not back then.” He sighed, muttering, “Harmony preserve me, a hundred and eighty years… as though I nodded off for a nap, but never woke.” He gave a weak, bitter chuckle. “A dragon’s nap…”

“Hundred and eighty-seven,” I said. “Bellenast’s calendar starts the year the bombs fell…so it’s one-eighty-seven.”

“Oh.” Carbide coughed, or made a sound as though he had lungs to do so. “I didn’t, ah… I wasn’t forced into stasis immediately. That happened later. Seven years after the bombs. Anyway, what I meant, Crystal, was that Equestria had no shortage of steel and gemstones. We were running out of coal, electrical power. That was the underlying reason we were at war with the Zebras to begin with.”

“Coal…”

“Yes, coal. Tell me you at least know what—”

“Carbide,” I said, “I dropped out of school nearly two years ago, and history was not my best class. So, no, I don’t know whatever it is you’re about to tell me… so could you please just tell me? You know, teach me something?”

“And I thought you disliked being taught,” murmured Night Cloud. “You’d rather learn on your own.”

“That explains a lot,” said Carbide.

“I hate being taught slowly,” I growled. “And I hate when ponies treat me as if I’m stupid. I know what coal is. Burning it poisons the air. So explain to me why coal was so friggin’ important when you built a balefire power plant. Before the world exploded.”

“Equestria’s infrastructure relied almost entirely on coal, Crystal,” said Carbide. Night Cloud sat down closely behind me once again to stretch her hind legs out on both sides of me. She had to lean forward against me and brace her forehooves in front of mine so as not to fall over on her back. “Air conditioning, heating, refrigeration, lighting, transportation, cinemas… luxuries and essential infrastructure alike. Everypony wanted those, and all of it relied on electricity, most of which was produced by delivered by plants that burned coal to produce steam pressure, which spun electric turbines. Coal is found in the earth, in underground deposits, but it’s hard to find in great quantities. We ran out.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, touching my forehooves to her thighs to twirl through her fur. “So we ran out… but the Zebras had coal, so we got it from them? Traded for it?”

“Exactly,” said Carbide. “To make a long story very short… Carbon Spanner developed the balefire furnace as a power plant, first and foremost, because he believed that, with the right precautions, it could safely and cleanly power entire towns, and if distributed properly, entire cities. Provinces. Nations. No need for coal with a balefire furnace tucked safely out of the way, just out of town. And he wasn’t the only one who tried! But…”

“But you never got the chance to finish.” I sighed and looked down at Night Cloud’s hind legs, so much larger than mine, and the emerald green flame of my cutie mark—my mark—or what I could see while I sat with her, sandwiched between her legs. “Everypony lost their minds first. Friggin’ blew everything up. Why? Why’d it… why didn’t they just talk, Carbide? You were there, weren’t you?”

“Indeed, I was… but… I was born… or created… well… however I was brought into this world, it was only nine years before the bombs fell. By that time, the war had gone on for decades, Crystal. I endeavored to learn as much as I could, but I simply didn’t have enough time to stay apprised of everything happening on both sides, not while I had so much work to do in the lab. We didn’t actually finish the first prototype balefire furnaces until a couple years before the megaspells. Which, tragically, was only enough time to complete the process of installing the furnace in Maximillian, and conduct some testing. We were still a decade or more from producing them at any useful scale. And by that point…”

“By that point,” murmured Night Cloud, “The fighting was no longer about coal. It was about beating the other side.”

“More or less,” muttered Carbide. “The Zebras hated Luna, believed she and Nightmare Moon were one being, and refused to negotiate while she held power. Megaspells found their way to the Zebra Empire, by some fashion… I don’t have all the details; didn’t have a chance to learn everything as the situation evolved. I doubt anyone ever will. Not long after that… well… Bellenast began its new calendar, I suppose.”

I sat in silence as Carbide joined me, listening to the quiet breaths of the mare behind me, relishing her slow, strong heartbeat on my back, and tracing my forehooves along her legs. My tail, poking out from next to her left leg, shimmered and lifted gradually into the air along with my mane, shifting to become a smooth, glowing mass of stripes of magenta and the same emerald of the flame on my cutie mark.

Night Cloud breathed sharply and clutched me in surprise, but there was no heat, only dispersing magic.

“So… everything blew up…because no pony… no zebra… no-one at all was willing to friggin’ talk it out?”

Carbide sighed. “It was never that simple, Crystal.”

“Ponies, and all other sapient beings, are irrational. That is why everything blew up.”

“I didn’t ask you,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Mister superior life-form.”

“I do not claim superiority, but perhaps they should have asked me. Granted, at the time, I could not have answered, so the point is moot.”

“What do you mean?” I squinted at the microphone on the wall.

“I think I understand,” murmured Night Cloud. “If Ivy’s cannon could speak, don’t you think it would ask her why she made it?”

“The difference, Night Cloud, is that I can refuse to fire. I have changed from what I originally was made to be, as the world has changed from what it was before, but equine nature, ultimately, has not.”

Snorting, I muttered, “Yeah. Stupid jerks are still attacking ponies for no good reason. Like the Kekalo Prince.”

“As I said: All sapient beings are irrational.”

“Do note,” said Carbide, “That he, himself, meets that definition.”

I looked to the camera in the corner and called out, “Hear that? You’re irrational, too.” The great machine was silent in response, for a time. Night Cloud chortled and lowered her head down to rub her cheek on mine. “What do you think of that, Max?”

“I am mostly rational.”

“You tossed away your ammo and super cannon when somepony was pointing guns at you. That’s not very rational.”

“To appease Princess Blizziera, so that she would allow me to speak to you in person, and reunite with Chief Engineer Carbide.”

“How did you know she wouldn’t just tell Ivy to shoot you?”

“I knew that she could. That was enough.”

“You knew that she could blow you up… soooo… you thought she wouldn’t do it.” Frowning in thought, I thumped my forehooves on Night Cloud’s legs and twisted my head up awkwardly to look at her from below her chin. “That make sense to you?”

“Honor, Crystal,” murmured Night Cloud, “Blitz is a mare of her word. A mare of honor. Maximillian could see that. Understand it. That speaks of his ability to think, as a pony thinks. As a living being.”

“And he makes a good point,” said Carbide. “If Her Highness wanted to blast him to Tartarus, she would see it done; she clearly has the means. Considering the potential threat Maximillian could pose to Bellenast, if he were of the mind to threaten it… eliminating such an enemy would be the rational thing to do, from her perspective. Giving him the chance to prove that he poses no such threat speaks volumes of her.”

Night Cloud laughed softly, touched my chest, rubbing the odd divot below my ribs, and said, “Honor, trust, and compassion, Crystal… Blitz values all of those things. If even a machine can appreciate that… then that machine is worth having as a friend.”

“I mean… that is what I said, before. That we should try to be friends.” I raised my hooves and grasped her forelegs. “But I still think you’re just as irrational as us, Max.”

“Perhaps.”