//------------------------------// // Story Two: Brighter Futures // Story: Clipped Wings // by Desrium //------------------------------// Chapter One Reach for the skies and grasp the heavens, for the tyranny of the clouds has been broken! Magical energy weapons lashed out at the weathered walls the Wasteland militants took refuge behind. The fighting force of the free took cover in a large residential building ravaged by the elements while the winged ones in their dark armor blasted holes through them. The buzzing and cracking of their weapons filled the air. There was an electrifying ambiance in the wake of each shot, each entry hole glowing hotly and each impact marked by scorched spots. Shock and awe indeed. Falcon Wing was positioned at the corner of the war torn street, peeking out furtively and using his Pipeye to identify hostiles. With the brass goggles he saw them: ten Enclave soldiers, top of the line combatants with years of training and armed with top of the line weapons. That, against twelve Wasteland-hardened survivors, excluding Falcon Wing. The Enclave pegasi were having a skirmish with another group of defenders and were apparently winning. "So what are we dealing with, Falcon Wing?" Klaxon asked, bracing against the side of the building, standing behind the wingless pegasus. "Enemies well out of our league," Falcon Wing wanted to say, but shunned those thoughts. Barely a month ago, he considered these ponies to be his kin and in a few ways, admired them, believing them to be the highest quality ponies left in Equestria. How could they not be, living in the clouds and away from the harmful effects of magical radiation and sustaining themselves with technology all but lost on the surface? The red colt poked his out from the corner once more, sweeping his vision across the street then looking up to the skies, using his E.F.S to simplify and corroborate his findings. "Ten of them. Four have Novasurge rifles, really powerful things. They were designed by the top shooter in the Enclave before he left, Deadsho -- ... this isn't a time for a history lesson..." Falcon Wing replied, shaking his head. He put a hoof on the dial, shifting Pipeye functions. Falcon Wing's sight turned to black for all but a split second, returning vastly amplified. He was staring down the length of several city blocks yet he felt as if he were mere feet away from the pegasus in their black carapace, banking around the building where the others were to fire a pink stream of energy through a window... seeing the bright flash within the shadowed alcove where the shot must have struck true. A pony was just vaporized. Falcon Wing dropped his gaze, for an instant feeling as if he was hurtling to the ground before the Pipeye's view mode returned to normal. That was all Klaxon needed to see to know the time to act was now. He looked up to the eleven other ponies assembled around him, several of which had formed a perimeter of battle saddle coverage, making ambush impossible unless the Enclave were using Stealthbucks. Steiner and Alana stood closest to him. "These Enclave fuckheads made a grave mistake coming to Hope, so lets go ahead and send them packing!" he whinnied. "Steiner, what's the best course of attack?" he asked the hornless unicorn. "We set up a kill zone. Alana will draw their attention, the rest of us will offer fire support when they come down this straight," Steiner replied. Falcon spoke up. "Enclave suits have Eyes Forward Sparkles. They'll know they are going into an ambush... hell, one pony firing on a group of ten would be suspicious enough. No offense to your skills, Alana." "I will take care of that, don't you worry," Steiner said, streams of light visible between the mess of black mane on his head. A few of the other ponies looked uneasy. They were from Hope and remembered Steiner's accident in vivid detail. The fact he was still using magic long after he removed his horn -- which was very difficult to do, as Falcon recently discovered, supporting his belief Steiner was one of the most powerful magic wielders out there -- only disconcerted them further. The dark blue stallion did not care, he would not hold back his true power in such a dire time. The roar of Alana's rifle could have rivaled a dragon's. Klaxon upgraded the rifle from its dingy condition before the strikes against the Enclave and Steiner enchanted the weapon. The result was something with enough power that shooting it nearly sent Alana sliding back across the asphalt. The fact she stood her ground was testament to the caramel mare's resolve. The slug punched through the pegasus armor and in the distance, the spray of blood was but a fine mist. The stricken solider spiraled from the sky. Two others dived after their comrade while the remaining seven swerved around and rocketed over the desolate streets. Alana yelped, spun on her hooves and was going as fast as she could down the street. Like the raider before her, Alana was being hindered by the large unwieldy gun. She did not get far, between navigating the obstacles of wrecks in her way and her handicap, the agile pegasus flyers ahead were on her tail in less than two minutes. Streaks of light: pink, green and Novasurge orange came down all around her, some hitting so close she felt the searing heat and the ionizing tingle on her coat. She ducked behind a wagon laying on its side, knowing the hulking mass of metal would offer no protection against the beams of energy and with the E.F.S, the soldiers knew where she was even as she hid. However, she knew they wouldn't dare fire on her now. She was behind an entirely different kind of wagon, not one towed across the ground, but one meant to fly. A sky cart, and an especially large one. It was more akin to a boxcar than a chariot, worn white paint with blue stripes, large cloud generators attached to its exposed underside. Shooting it would be like setting off a mini Balefire bomb. The kill zone. Steiner dropped his magical cloak around himself and the eleven others. All at once, the Enclave soldiers were surrounded utterly by red marks in their E.F.S. Instinctively, they turned their attention to the ground, looking at the destroyed entrances to various stores and buildings. This group of rebels had no flyers, after all. Their tactical misjudgment was a mistake they would pay dearly for. Arranged on various floors of buildings down the street and positioned at windows, the ponies of the Hope compound opened fire with their battle saddles, assault rife fire streaming into the air, sparks jumping off of armor accompanied by splashes of red. Seven pegasi fly in. None come out. Badly bleeding, in excruciating pain, the one Enclave member that had not succumbed to their wounds yet dragged themselves behind a pile of rubble and mangled metal, out of sight. They let themselves fall onto their back, looking up at the oppressive gray sky above, breathing heavily. They took off their helmet and laid it down next to them. The dying pegasus was a creamy orange in color with white and black mottling. He had a white spot over his left eye and a black one over his left. Those eyes were a striking blue. The stain of red was a new color on his face, staining a light brown mane. Those eyes rolled upwards slowly at the sound of approaching hoofsteps. There he saw the cloaked pony who stood over him. Red pelt, black coat, wearing some weird pair of goggles with green lenses. Veiled in shadow was the pony's cutie mark, a silver shield with fiery gold wings extending from both sides. Falcon Wing raised the goggles so they rested on his forehead. His eyes were cloudy. Soon enough, the orange pegasus also had glazed over eyes. "You're alive, Falcon," he rasped. "And you're dying, Flint" the red colt replied, sitting down on the asphalt. The pony let out a pained chuckle that sounded as if he were about to heave. "You had us... worried sick for a while... you know..." "Stop talking. Save your strength. I can help you," Falcon Wing said, bringing up his inventory sorter and was about to remove every bit of medical supplies he had on him. "Don't, please..." the dying pegasus said as Falcon prepared to open a health potion. "I've been forced to do some... some things I can't live with. I didn't want to but... I was forced to... I'm... sorry." "What kind of shit is that?!" Falcon Wing exclaimed with the cover of the potion still in his mouth. "You took care of me! You and Erasure! How the hell can you ask me to let you die after all of the shit you've done for me!?" "Because... we aren't any better than the ponies who kill foals... and destroy innocent lives at somepony's behest." Falcon Wing quivered. "This can't be happening... why the hell is this happening!?" he choked out, setting the potion down on the ground. Flint groaned. "Hey... Falcon... bleeding out isn't... isn't exactly the best way to go..." "You cannot be fucking serious," Falcon Wing thought in the midst of his grief. "You think... you can speed this... up? Make it quick... make the pain stop?" "Holy fuck this is happening!" "I'd prefer if you did it... especially after what I did... did to your parents... what we all did." "..." "Ain't it a bitch... that when the truth comes out... there is no way to explain it..." "What are you talking about!?" "This... really... hurts. I... I don't blame you if you'd want to see me suffer... or if you want revenge..." "I literally have no fucking clue what you are saying!" Falcon Wing shouted, alerting the others to where he had gone. "Maybe... it's best that remains... unchan-" Flint, laying in his pool of blood, stared blankly at the gray clouds above. Falcon Wing was wracked with conflicting emotions, grief for the loss of one of his caregivers, confusion about his dying words and an underlying rage that it seemed it was true, his parents were victims of betrayal and foul play. The red pony bared his teeth, wanting to close his eyes and run inside one of the husks, to be alone to process what he had been told. He was pulled from his turmoil at the sight of light. Light of all colors, tearing across the skies and sweeping the clouds away. The fabled Sonic Rainboom... and it was occurring all across Equestria. Bright yellow light then cut through the gloom. Streaks of light... sunlight. He looked up at the formerly gray expanse that Flint stared at in death and saw the blue breaking through with the streaming light its herald. The cloud cover had been broken by who else but the Stable Dweller An age had come to an end. And Falcon Wing would enter the next disoriented with a pained heart.