"Shoot." Applejack ducked behind a rock. "What're they havin', a party?"
Stan worked his binoculars in a slow pan. "That don't sound half as off as yer thinkin'. Not often ah see so many rough sorts in one place 'less I'm pokin' a fortress."
Applejack cycled her hooves wildly. "Good for 'em, but why're they here of all places?! This ain't no fortress."
"Nope..." He could see crude wooden fences, but they were likely better at being for show than actually stopping any given person from climbing over them, or shooting through them. As fortresses went, not a very good one. "They ain't wearin' obvious signs." No unified marks or armbands or anything else that'd give away their unified purpose. "Just a lot of people parked right in our path. What say we just go 'round em?"
Giddyup nodded in quick agreement. "Avoiding physical confrontation is far safer."
"Don't like it." Applejack squinted at the activity ahead of them. "So close... The vault shoulda done somethin'. They're affected by a bunch of people settin' up shop near their front lawn an' all."
"'Magine they're scarin' off some of the merchants... Part ah me wants to just ask 'em what they're doin'." He tucked his binocs away. "The other part likes breathin'. We avoidin' them or makin' a mess? Likely ain't too many other ways 'round it."
Applejack patted her holstered revolver. "Much as ah like ah good scrap that needs doin', these 'gents' ain't done nothin' to us yet, aside be in our way. Mah vote's on goin' round."
"Ain't gonna argue that." Stan tossed his head back the way they came. "Back that way, keep low. They see us, we may lose the chance to decide."
As a unit, they made a slow path back up the road, away from the group that looked like bandits, and away from the vault they wanted to approach. "Giddyup."
"Yes?"
Stan stood up, far enough away to not be seen for the trouble. "Have you been listening on the same wave as the one you sent the vault a message?"
"Yes." Giddyup wasn't moving as they spoke, just standing there.
"Thought so." Stan turned back down the road, looking towards the block that was then out of sight. "Don't like it. Means they didn't get the message, got it and didn't bother to reply, or they can't reply to it. None of those are great options."
Applejack put a hoof on Stan's side. "Now, sugarcube... We ain't paid for this, jus' to be clear. Also bein' clear, ah ain't gonna say no to makin' sure my people's alright an' all! But..."
Stan brought a hand down on Applejack's hat and hear. "Yer just makin' it extra clear ah could not be stupid and you wouldn't take it personal."
Applejack shuffled awkwardly a moment. "Not the way ah woulda phrased it... But yeah, basically... We're leavin' what we are bein' paid for. You wanna head on... won't be mad, not at all. Would make you smarter than me, maybe..."
"Well, lucky for you." Stan's gaze was fixed on his rifle as he examined it with great care and attention. "Ah ain't that smart. Let's see what's happenin' with that vault."
Applejack's concern melted into a big smile. She hopped forward, squeezing Stan around the middle. One advantage of child-sized humans, a pony could squeeze them just right instead of getting a leg. "Let's." In a clumsy attempt to regain her balance, she slid back to all fours, her face turning faintly red with embarrassment. "Sorry."
"Ain't nothin'." Stan waved with his rifle. "The woods are thick enough that way to give cover but not be a total pain to fight through." With a shared nod, all three of them headed that way, winding the long way around the sudden encampment in their way.
"Ain't thinnin' much..." Stan kept a half eye on the road leading to their target. It wasn't as busy as the roadblock, but there were still people, armed, and rowdy.
Applejack scowled, but wasn't looking. Her vantage point meant she saw mostly bushes when she tried. "Likin' this less an' less by the step."
A snap of a twig had them all twirling. "Woah!" A pony had her hooves in the air. "I come bearing gifts."
Stan blinked at the new pony. "Lyra, ain't it? Shoot... Where's Skyline?"
"Here." He stepped out from some underbrush far more quietly, on Stan's other side. "Good job getting this close." The cybernetic bat pony fidgeted his wings with obvious agitation. "Wish we could give a better greetings."
Applejack closed with Lyra and the two crashed in shared hugs. "Mighty good to see ya! What's goin' on? Are the others alright?"
Giddyup scanned the area with a swivel of his head and neck. "Where are the gifts you promised?"
Lyra snickered at the robot. "Silly. Um, I did say that..." She fell to all fours and dug around with her hooves. "How about this?" She produced a single stick of gum.
"Accepted." Stan snatched it. "These things are rare. Is it..." He popped it in his mouth and chewed. "Mmm, not as dry as I was 'fraid of, nice. So, what's goin' on?"
"What he said." Applejack inclined her head at Stan. "Fill us in."
Skyline directed a metal finger. "That way." He began away from the road. "You're walking towards trouble."
Lyra nodded, following after him. "He isn't wrong. I'm so glad you two are here. You're exactly what we need right now."
Stan tapped the side of Skyline's head, right at the bat pony's glasses. "They hooked you up? Working out?"
Skyline sighed with a little smile. "It's like my life has transformed, and they can keep it clean and upkept, rather than hoping the first I found holds up with prayers and good thoughts." They arrived at a thick knot of brambles and he scurried under a low lip of it. "You're going to have to crawl, Stan."
The ponies were all low enough to scurry undeneath without too much difficulty. Stan had to drop to all fours, like them, to emulate the job. It was Giddyup who was the slowest going. "Damage detected."
Stan whirled on Giddyup. "Where? You alright?"
"No structural damage detected." Giddyup stood, past the brambles. "Damage to paint detected."
Applejack hissed, spotting where the brambles had dug a few lines in the new paint. "Aw... Sorry, pardner... Ah know you were likin' that fresh coat."
"This damage is entirely cosmetic," reasoned Giddyup. "It will not impede my functionality."
Stan patted his mechanical friend. "It's alright to be a little disappointed. We know you were likin' it."
"This way." Skyline pointed to a small dark hole. "It's not much..."
Lyra shrugged as she advanced. "But it's safeish, and we'll take that." She slipped into the hole and out of sight.
Skyline waved for the others to go ahead of them.
Applejack tipped her hat, going next into the darkness with a muted yelp.
Stan cocked a brow at that. "Does that go straight down?"
"Only a foot or so. You alright, Applejack?" he called into the hole.
"Ah'm fine! Ya didn't tell me that on purpose. Don't you look coy, Lyra!" The giggles that echoed up implied Lyra was looking quite coy indeed.
Stan entered a bit more carefully, sliding to the ground on his feet. They were in a hole, a big hole. Someone had dug it out into quite an impressively large living area. "Wow... Giddyup?"
Giddyup had to work out the best angle, but he wriggled in and fell to the ground with a loud metal thump. "Descent successful."
Skyline came in last, bouncing off Giddyup to land on his own hooves. "Welcome to our emergency shelter." He waved. "It sucks, but it's better than nothing."
Stan looked around at the ponies hurrying about. Some of them were familiar, some were not. Time had advanced during his time away. "So... What happened?"
Skyline let out a slow breath. "Will you beleive Mayor Mare might have had at least sort of a point?"
Lyra closed to swat at him. "You take that back! We were doing our thing, trading, living the good life... And some raiders decided they wanted it." Her frustration was evident as she let out a loud sigh. "And they were better debaters than we were."
Stan clapped a hand over his face. "But you got away?"
Skyline sighed at that. "We lost some, holding the line long enough to let that happen... I made them pay dearly for what they took." He flexed his mechanical fingers, even if they folded into his hooves a moment later. "But they came with numbers, and arms."
He waved at the other ponies, doing their best. "And they're not used to this. I'm a tribal... I lived that way for more years than many of them were alive."
"Some like older men," sang Lyra, rubbing against Skyline. "But he isn't wrong, this sucks. I want our vault back!"
Applejack glanced between the two and some other ponies moving along. "So... Even afore we showed up, seems there are only a few options." She tapped her hooves. "You take the vault back." She tapped them anew. "Or ya move someplace less... Look, don't get me wrong." She turned slowly. "This is an impressive hole, but it's still a hole. Ain't got much goin' fer it."
Skyline inflated with a slow draw of breath. "Yeah... yeah... Ultimately. There's a lot of arguing about that. I'm trained for combat, most of them? Not. Pony guards? More gun than fighting ability. That line collapsed too damn fast..." He frowned with memories. "I can't take the vault back singlehoofedly." He thrust a hoof at Stan. "Even if you're here to help, and thank you in advance, that isn't a tremendous fighting force. They have about half a hundred, armed, ready for a scrap. They heard about a vault full of goodies, and they went for it."
"It ain't." Stan crossed his arms in thought. "It really ain't. Seriously, fifty of 'em? You been watchin'?"
"What else can I do?" Skyline sank to his haunches. "This time, I ran into the lot of you. So... You've been a wastelander for as long as I've been around, and I can't say that about many... What's your take?"
Stan pointed to Lyra. "Off-topic... But I thought you had..."
"A foal, yep." Lyra bobbed her head quickly. "He'll let me know when I--" She stopped, ear twitching. "Oops!" She galloped off without hesitation into the tunnels.
Skyline nodded. "She has very fine tuning with a few things she cares about a lot, like the foal. It so much as rolls over and she seems to know."
"It?" asked Stan.
"He." Skyline shook himself out. "Sorry.. Parts of me are still getting used to the idea of being a dad. I'm... trying my best, honest. Seriously, ideas? What's your take on it?"
"Well..." Stan waved over Skyline. "You count as a few ready fighters." Skyline fluffed up in pride. "But most of the others barely count as half to a quarter of them. Any fight you mount against them is going to end up with a lot of blood on the ground, a lot of them being ponies."
"I strongly advise against." Giddyup nodded at the proposed scenario. "Please consider an alternative course of action."
Skyline buried his face in his hooves. "Like what?" he moaned into this hooves. "Even if we ran to the tribes, begging for help, they are not providing what the vaulters are expecting, or even kinda close to it."
Stan shrugged with a chuckle. "Could ask them for help fighting. They're better trained and tougher... But that'd still not go cleanly, I would bet..."
"Not taking that bet." Skyline lowered his hooves to the ground. "Any other ideas?"
Applejack reached back for an envelope. "Well..."
Skyline accepted the envelope and tore it open smoothly. "What's this?" His eyes swept left and right, reading quickly.