Fallout Equestria: Alphabet soup

by Doomande


Enclave: Grandpa by SabreTheRedMane

Grandpa

On a small colored photo a mare was smiling. She was standing on a cloud as a photographer took the shot. Her light blue mane and tail caught in the moment of being ravaged by a savage high altitude wind.

Major Galewind held the photo with his wingtip, looking at it with deep longing. He smiled as well, and thought that the frame is an excellent allegory for their passion towards each other. His other wing lifted the glass of orange juice spiked with apple whiskey and the major took a generous sip out of it.

"She's going to the hinterland, MJR?" asked a pegasus mare in front of him, lifting her head up from a plate full of grilled fish.

"Yeah. We decided it's for the better since she is pregnant." Galewind answered to his wingmare, lieutenant Puff Cloud, "She's got a transfer to Quiet Valley. Will go on a MoA sky wagon." He reached with his wing and hid the photo into the pocket. The crude chair creaked under his weight.

They were sitting in the officer's mess hall. Although "hall" was probabl too pretentious of a name for a large battered canvas tent standing besides the airfield. Here combat flight personnel was meant to relax between the missions and try to forget about the fact that each of them could become their last. Galewind personally would prefer a cloud, but his squadron was a part of a ground support unit. Only the air superiority wings got deployed above.

"I still can't believe MoM stalled civilian evacuation." Puff Cloud frowned.

"They still allow regular traffic, given that a passengers have a return tickets. They don't want panic." Galewind said with a slight emphasis and shrugged. Puff Cloud got the hint and shut up. The major sighed, thankfully, MoM couldn't record bare thoughts into a memory orb... Yet.

It was bad enough when another one (or several) of pegasi didn't show up at the table after the combat sortie, but he got used to it since his early days in the Royal Air Force. But the need to be wary of his own compatriots and constantly watch what he was saying proved to be equally as bad. Galewind hated it. He was old enough to remember the country before the War. The cheerfulness and happiness. Songs and friendships. Kindness and camaraderie. The bright colorful world.

He had enlisted to protect the colors around him. War has drained most of them, making everything either gray or khaki. But he believed, that as long as there will be ponies, there would be chance for the colors to bloom anew. For that reason he hardly ever went on any rants about POGs. He felt some misplaced irrational joy at a thought that there are still ponies not yet contaminated with the violence and killing.

Galewind lit a cigarette and looked around. Other pegasi were quiet, munching on their high calorie rations or gulped the juice. Spiked drinks helped them to shake off the edge without getting too drowsy. Flight technicians, as per custom, had a large surplus of whiskey and spirit. They traded part of it with eagerness, in exchange for some flight-grade rations. Galewind didn't believe in MoM's recreational drugs in a slightest. Of course he's been obtaining "moral boosters" at the intendant, with a signed acknowledgement even. But then he just dumped them on squadron medic (completely according to the regulations, by the way).

The medic, his old friend, proceeded to write the whole load off after a determinate period of time. So far RAF managed to oppose most of the MoM effort. Thanks to their patron saint, Rainbow Dash, and the natural stubbornness of pegasi, which could rival that of the earth ponies and donkeys.

Tent flaps flew apart and a young liaison officer barged into the mess hall. "Major, sir! Colonel wants you at the HQ! She said it's urgent!"

Galewind rose from the table, making a gesture with his wing, telling others to sit and continue eating. Himself, he headed to the Ground Control tent to receive what he believed would be a combat task.

Wing commander, colonel Cirrus Mist, returned his salute and gave him a pad that he took from her mouth. "There are reports on suspicious enemy activity in the sector J-20." She said. "Ground command thinks Zebras could attempt a breakthrough."

Galewind looked closer at the pad, examining the markers on the map. "They ask us to determine what exactly is going on." Colonel continued. "I want your squadron to take this mission. Any questions?"

"If I may, ma'am. Must we fly out immediately? During the day?"

"I'm afraid so. It's urgent. Your squadron is one of the best, I believe you can complete this in a perfect manner."

She didn't say "squadron with the lowest casualty rate", superstitious as much as everypony who have been on the front line long enough. Galewind gave a sharp salute.
"Roger that, ma'am! Glory to Equestria!"

"Glory to Equestria, major!"


Clad in their black power armor with large scorpion-like stingersthey looked like something straight out of a nightmare. The squadron flew in a wide formation, high in the azure skies. Below them the ground zipped past, looking like a canvas from the perspective of their altitude. Galewind cast a glance at his retinal tactical display and frowned.

"Gold Leader here. Twelve-'o seconds till the alleged enemy perimeter. Be ready."

All of the ten tactical marks of his ponies, half a squadron, blinked green, acknowledging his words. They didn’t need a full twenty pegasi for a recon, so he had picked volunteers.

"Foxtrot-9. Possible fresh arty emplacements, concealed." Puff Cloud reported.

"Roger. Snap it."

Everypony of them were equipped with flight cameras, to make the results of their reconnaissance more evident. Galewind looked at the abandoned railway in another sector. Half the road was in the enemy hooves but thank Goddesses it was rather far away from the city. The railway was a secondary branch, going to a small cargo depot, long since abandoned and blown up. And currently something was awfully off about it.

"Huh?" He adjusted zoom of his helmet's visor, concentrated on the rails and frowned. Yep, they were repaired recently. And nobody had reported that so far. "Echo-8. Abandoned railway, recently renovated by the enemy-"

He wanted to say more, but the zoomed in picture brought to his attention something even more frightening. The rails were vibrating in a steady rhythm. It wasn't just repaired, was in use right now! "Gold Seventeen, come in!"

"Golf Sierra here, sir!" an airpony answered. This pegasus was in the higher echelon of their formation.

"Do you observe any trains approaching Echo-8?"

"Afraid not, sir. Not for at least 50 miles from us." But the train moving so far wouldn't cause that kind of vibration anyway.

"Gold Two, cover me!"

"Aye aye, sir!" Puff Cloud complied.

Galewind did a half-roll and swooped down. Other pegasi regrouped in anticipation of an unknown threat. At 1000 meters from the ground air suddenly got adorned with a black clouds of flak shell detonations. Galewind executed an evasive maneuver, followed by Puff Cloud, but not quick enough as he felt a crescendo of schrapnel impacts on his armor.

His airponies looked in shock at a formerly empty railway below. The air above the rails shimmered and waded away like a heated celluloid film, and revealing a large angular locomotive plowing forward. By the slight rippling of the hot air around it's wide exhaust, instead of smoke, Galewind concluded it's most likely running on some kind of liquid fuel.

The locomotive pulled a whole train of armoured cars. Some of them clearly equipped for anti-air defense. In the center of the train there was the largest and longest car, sporting two high caliber cannons, basically screamed "Siege Guns!".

Galewind began to ascend, flying in a complex pattern to shake off the zebra gunners. He knew zebras used stealth technology for infiltration and sabotage missions, but he never would have thought they can pull off something of this scale.

The situation was both extremely lucky and unlucky at the same time. Lucky because some striped idiot lost his cool and opened fire on them, disrupting the camouflage.

His pegasi were circling the moving train evading high altitude projectiles, unsure what to do. Dancing between detonations the major switched frequencies and called Control. "Ground Control, this is Gold Leader, come in!"

There was a pause, then colonel spoke. "Gold Leader, what's the situation?"

"Concealed armored train in Echo Eight. Moving by the Twelve-Twenty towards the Podunk Barns. Our approach made them decloak."

"Come again, Gold Leader? " Cirrus Mist, evident from her tone, was shaken.

"I repeat, an armored train. Mostly AA cars, but there is the one armed with what resembles high caliber siege cannons."

"Gold Leader, is there a green glow around the muzzle face?" The question was highly unnerving in its specificness, a slowly building gut feeling of an experienced battle flier suggested that Cirrus Mist knew something about this he didn't.

Galewind made a pass right above the siege car, him hoping that the trains flak cannons couldn't shoot at 90 degrees straight so he would be safe for a moment. The huge, at least twelve inches wide cannon barrels indeed faintly glowed green. "Control, the green glow confirmed. I repeat-"

"Gold Leader, can you derail it?"

He pondered the question. And then switched back to the tactical frequency. "Gold Leader here, engaging the railway."

He took a nosedive right in front of the train, from the angle the least saturated with AA fire. Other squadron members took their assigned positions, covering him and distracting flak gunners.

He fired a volley of energy bolts and struck the rail. Strangely enough it didn't budge. 'Fucking zebras must've enchanted the path!' he thought ascending back.
"Negative, control. The rails appear to be reinforced by the enemy!"

"Gold Leader, abort the mission and return immediately!"

Galewind looked into the distance of a spanning railway. At Podunk Barns the train would be closest to the city. Twelve-inchers like that, at this much of elevation, as far as he remembered, could have a range of fire of approximately forty miles. That meant it could reach the outskirts. But what was the point in only two guns on a lone armored train so close to the pony positions? It couldn't fire from the go. And after the first salvo it would be overrun, if parked.

He turned off the tactical frequency, leaving only command channel on. "Control, with all due respect, what's going on?"

"Gold Leader, return to the base, that's an order!"

"Control, either you telling what's going on or I'll disobey the order and will bring up your suspicious behavior at the court-martial." He heard a commotion in the control room, yells and orders.

After a long silence the colonel spoke again. "Gale..." she paused, "That's balefire launchers."

Galewind felt like he froze and was going to fall down like a rock with solid wings hearing those words. So, the whole J-20 business was a Zebra distraction. Or a real thing indeed, did't matter. The train would have gotten to Podunk Barns, basically a no-ponys land. By the time it would've been detected in a decloaked state, it would've been already to late,
as the first salvo would have obliterated half of the city. Most likely followed by an assault from J-20 at a demoralized and devastated pony force.

Good thing he chose the present flightpath, instead of taking the other one. The one going around E-8. He looked at the clock in his helmet, and noticed, absent-mindely that it was 14:00. His wife's wagon was scheduled for 15:00. Her irrational love to arrive early to any place she was heading to meant that she most likely already was waiting at the outskirts airport, along with the other relocating personnel... Even if the squadron would return, the train would be at firing range in ten minutes. Not only his wife, thousands of other ponies he sworn to protect with his life would die horribly. Galewind felt a panic he didn't feel probably since the junior flight school.

He and his pegasi were powerless against the train itself. Their energy weapons could hardly dent it's armor. They didn't have anyting like large caliber weapons or bombs on them. All they could possibly do is return ASAP and try to carry out as much ponies as possible with their bare hooves. Unless... Unless...

Galewind felt a disgusting lump in his throat.

No, he had no right, he couldn’t order this to any of his airponies.

Except for himself.

He activated his scorpion tail and purposely struck the power pack of his own armor suit. Again, and again. "Warning, destabilized magicell detected! Detonation is imminent! Vacate suit at once!" His displays began to glow red. Monotonous voice of the auto-diagnostic tool sounded like a tocsin.

"Commander, what are you doing?" Puff Cloud, of course! He winced at the question so much resembling his own.

"Gold Leader here! All the team, ascend to a higher altitude and return to the base immediately!" A small chorus of pained aye ayes was his answer.

"Puff, tell Stormy Weather I love her!"

"Commander, what the buck is going on?" She was frightened, understandably so. There was no time for explanations. He feared that the self-preservation instinct would get the best of him.

"Gold Leader here, engaging the train! Do not cover me!"

He took another nosedive, approaching the target head on. He gave this flight everything he got.

“Major!!! What are you doing?!” the helmet speakers screamed at him.

The locomotive was getting closer and closer at an alarming rate.

Gunners were trying to take him down, but he, being like if in some kind of a battle trance, avoided all the shells aimed at him. Red indicator on his display was at full. Now even the slightest touch would set the magicell off.

'Goddesses, make it to be enough-'


The ancient rails, although twisted and broken, somehow didn't have even a modicum of rust on them. Remains of a huge locomotive, melted beyond assured recognition, laid at some distance from a large glazed crater that tore the railway in half.

A bunch of derailed train cars littered the landscape around, one of them long and thick, with two railway cannons partially stuck in the ground. A dirty rain poured lazily from above, dampening the wreck, making it's etal parts glisten in the faint shadow of a sunlight that managed to reach the ground through the clouds.

First Lieutenant Stubborn Hail marveled at the destruction below standing at the helm of the small raptor-class cloudship, currently under his command. "I wonder..." he muttered to himself and walked away from the observation post back to his command chair.

At the tactical table nearby there stood an old yellowed picture of a pegasus stallion in a wartime dress uniform. An Hero of Equestria medal ribbon attached to the picture's frame. Stubborn Hail looked at the clock, then took a paper knife from the table and opened a large envelope stamped with 'Top Secret!' all around.

Inside there was a map and a large paper titled Operation: Cauterize. The more he read into it, the more frown appeared on his face. He folded the paper, leaving the map on the table.

"So, that how it is going to be, Grandpa?" he asked the portrait, in a rhetorical manner. The stallion in the picture couldn't have been his actual grandpa, of course. There were at least two centuries between them. But that was what everyone in the family called their famous ancestor, major Galewind.

"Set the new course. Bearing twenty two and five." First Lieutenant told his helmspony before turning to the voice tube, "Engeneering, ahead one-third. " And, after a short contemplation, he added, "I'll go check the cloud generator in a few moments. Don't mind me."

With this, Stubborn Hail began to walk towards the main corridor…