//------------------------------//
// Chapter Twenty-Three 
// Story: Clipped Wings 
// by Desrium 
//------------------------------//

Chapter Twenty-Three

What is a pegasus without their wings?

The next few days were spent devising a way to mop up Enclave forces across the Wasteland.

DJ Pon3’s broadcasts during this time were infuriatingly strained, the pony only being able to speak for minutes at a time before being tracked down and overridden -- or in recent cases, before blowing the transmission station to kingdom come along with any baddies -- meaning the Equestrian Wasteland was without a voice of nearly omnipresent knowledge about the happenings going on. 

That meant a substitution was in order, but not something that would send messages…

Klaxon was a pony that can repair and maintain. Steiner was a pony who invented. Together they completely reworked the radio into something it was never meant to be: a long range receiver and tracker; one that hooked up directly into to the Pipeye. The compound had no shortage of scrap parts to lend to the cause. 

The result was a rusty box full of wiring, tubing and circuitry, flickering oblong-shaped lights crackling softly. The only thing recognizable was the radio’s speakers, gutted and repurposed.

A makeshift antenna was fastened together using metal rods of various sizes and lengths, the largest one being the main structure for smaller prongs. It was mounted on the watch tower. 

Leading into this mess of -- but somehow functioning -- technology was the thin wire that could be extended from the Pipeye to access terminals. Using the map interface, Falcon Wing was monitoring the source of various radio signals across the Wasteland, all marked in his view. Twisting the dial scrolled across the map of the Wasteland, all settlements, from Manehatten to Junction R-7 were accounted for. Except for Canterlot, that was just a blank spot.

Klaxon fiddled with the assembly with the various tools he carried in his saddlebags for repairs on the go while Steiner focused on it with intense concentration. His scar was glowing as he channeled the magical field that made it all work. Falcon Wing was scouring his memory for all the things he knew about Enclave communication protocols. 

His extensive reading was paying off. 

Falcon Wing: eavesdropping with style. He had tapped into the Enclave communication frequency with the sources of various transmissions revealed on his map. A bulk of the pegasi forces were pressing into the Everfree forest… or rather, was over it. Numerous Raptors and a Thunderhead, all going after some goal the wingless pegasus had no clue about. Radio chatter spoke of somepony named Red Eye? 

Other divisions were situated in the major Wasteland cities such as Manehatten and Fillydelphia, from what Falcon could make out of a few messages, there were already battles breaking out between the Enclave and warriors of the Wastes. 

It occurred to him that those laying their lives on the line weren’t doing so to be called heroes. They did not want the Wasteland to know them by some moniker or to have their deeds enthrall the listeners of the radio. They were risking life and limb not for glory, but for their homes and for all they cared about, for the good of every pony still alive. It was kill or be killed, and the Enclave showed no reservations as a whole concerning the slaughter of innocents. So the Wasteland struck back, not because it was the heroic thing to do, but because it was the right thing to do. The decent thing to do. And sometimes, the right thing to do isn’t the preferred option.

Falcon Wing knew that now… and accepted it. It did in no way justified mindless acts of violence, as he was once tempted to commit by his rage, but that did not mean it was not okay the be angry. Fire without guidance was a short lived explosion. Fire given form and purpose was a regal phoenix. 

And so, he would live his life as a phoenix, rising to whatever challenge he should come across, a fiery spirit and a champion for good.

Unseen to all because of his overcoat and unnoticed by him, Falcon Wing’s cutie marked appeared: a silver shield with burning golden wings extending from either side. 





Fallout Equestria: Clipped Wings