Wargames

by Speven Dillberg


I Solve Practical Problems

Applejack followed Engineer down to a room in the underground labyrinth of RED Base. “So what exactly is it that ya do here, anyways?” she asked, looking around as she tried to memorise the path they were taking. Her first impression, that the Base was rather small, had turned out to be completely false.
“Well, mah job is to make sure all the machinery around here doesn’t break down. Whenever we’re not fightin’, I usually got mah head inside somethin’ makin’ sure that nothin’ came loose during the day.” Engineer found it relaxing to talk about what he did. The rest of the Team took everything he did for granted.
“That sounds mighty tirin’, if ya don’t mind me sayin’,” Applejack replied, the orange mare awed.
Engineer allowed himself a smile; the mare’s accent reminded him of a girl he had met many years ago. “That it is, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Nothin’ like a hard day’s work, I say.”
Applejack chuckled. “I gotta agree with ya there.”
“So what is it you do fer a livin’, Miss Applejack?” Engineer asked as they walked.
“Now don’t you go callin’ me ‘Miss’,” the farmer said, raising an eyebrow at the biped walking alongside her. “Ah ain’t no fancy mare like Rarity. Just ‘Applejack’ is fine.”
“You’ll hafta forgive me if I let it slip every now and then,” Engineer said apologetically. “I was raised to always be polite to the fairer sex.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Anyways, Ah’m a farmer,” Applejack said happily. “Mah family has been farmin’ apples for generations.”
Engineer chuckled. “I think I can rightly say that that’s hard work.”
Applejack laughed as well. “That it is, mister. But Ah wouldn’t have it any other way. Nothin’ like a hard day’s work,” she said with a smile, repeating the Texan.
“You got that right,” Engineer said as they reached a large metal door. “Well, here we are. Mah workshop.” He pushed a button and it slowly opened, splitting into two and disappearing into the walls.
Within were a number of counters and tables, each one covered in an obscene number of parts and materials. One table was dedicated to the actual construction, as was evidenced by the arc welders, grinders, hammers and various wrenches strewn across it.
“Forgive the mess,” Engineer said as he led Applejack to one of the few empty areas.
“If’n ya don’t mind me askin’, what exactly is it that ya do around here anyways?” the farmer asked, looking around at the incredible mess. She was sure that Rarity would have a fit if she saw this.
“Well, on the battlefield I take a few... specialised contraptions of mine out there.” Engineer picked up a toolbox and set it on the floor. In a matter of seconds Applejack was staring down the fearsome metal monstrosity that was the Level 3 Sentry Gun. It seemed to look at her for a moment before it made a beeping noise and began scanning the room for any BLU Team members.
Applejack took a few worried steps back from it. “Wha-what is that thing?” she stammered.
“This here is a Sentry Gun. Mah grandfather Radigan Conagher designed it, I perfected it and I use it. This thing is capable of dealin’ out enough hurt to take out a small army,” Engineer said proudly, patting the rocket bay fondly. “It’s mainly used for defence.”
“A-Ah can see why.”
The mare’s nervousness was obvious to the Texan, who leaned into the workings of the Sentry and flicked a switch, deactivating it. “It won’t hurt ya, Applejack. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Applejack chuckled nervously. “Sorry about that. Ah din’t mean ta seem so scared.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s pretty scary, I know.”
Applejack looked around and saw another device, something spinning on the floor so fast it as creating a glowing red circle. “What is that?” she asked, pointing at it with a hoof.
“That there is one of mah Teleporters. Not sure what happened to the other one,” Engie replied, rubbing his chin. “It’s around here somewhere, I know that.”
“A teleporter?” Applejack asked.
Engineer mistook her questioning for genuine confusion. “It lets ya get to somewhere else in tha blink of an eye,” he explained.
“Ah know that. Ah’ve seen Twilight do that usin’ her fancy unicorn magic,” Applejack said with a wave of her hoof. “Ah’m just surprised that ya need some contraption ta let ya do that.”
“That might be because we can’t use magic,” the Texan explained. “Humans that can use magic are nowhere near as common as unicorns here.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a series of loud stomps and a rumbling noise. “Engineer.” They turned and saw Heavy, his immense frame blocking the door. He made a few steps in and deposited a very large... Applejack didn’t know what it was, but it was on the floor now. Apart from the fact it looked like an upsized version of one of the tube-things on the Sentry Gun, she couldn’t make heads or tails of it. “We have problem.”
“Do we now?”
“Red pony cannot carry Sasha,” he said, pointing at the thing he had put down. “We need help.”
Big Macintosh stepped from behind Heavy and made himself seen. “I don’t know how I’m meant to carry it,” he drawled. “It’s almost bigger’n me!”
“What’d you expect, you big dummy?” Engineer asked Heavy as he picked up a pencil and blue grid paper.
“I have PhD in Russian Literature. I am not a ‘dummy’,” Heavy said, is mood unreadable.
“Well I have 11 hard science PhDs,” Engineer responded. Both he and the Russian chuckled, happy that they were both in the presence of those that were considered geniuses in their respective fields. The Texan made a number of small sketches on the paper before he looked up and grabbed a measuring tape. “I got an idea for how this’ll work.”


Applejack watched the short Texan go about his work in awe. In truth, she had doubted what he had said about working hard. Seeing him in action simply proved her wronger than half a worm in an apple. In the span of half an hour he had finalized the blueprints, machined the parts and constructed a weapon for Big Macintosh.
It fit over his back much like one of those fancy dress saddles Rarity made, but the whole thing was actually a light metal frame. On it sat two white drums, each one connected to a series of long metal tubes that sat within a larger metal tube. The two larger tubes were set on the sides of the metal frame, travelling along the stallion’s side all the way to his neck. A pair of thin metal ‘reins’ ran from between the metal drums and ended a few inches below Big Macintosh’s mouth, designed as a means to activate the weaponry attached to his back.
“That should just about do it,” Engineer said as he stood back to admire his handiwork.
Heavy walked around Big Macintosh, eyeing Engineer’s latest invention with a critical eye. “I like this gun,” he said after a few moments.
“Whaddya call it?” Applejack asked, eyeing the contraption curiously.
Engineer scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Haven’t thought of a name yet.”
“Feels lighter’n the plow back home,” Big Macintosh said, taking a few steps around, marvelling at how light it was.
“Maybe...” Engineer chuckled. “Nah, that’s just silly.”
“What is?” Applejack asked, turning to the Texan.
“Well,” he said as he removed his hard hat, revealing a shaved head, “I thought that, seein’ its all set on a saddle, and it’s made for fightin’, I could call it a ‘Battle Saddle’.” From his tone it was clear that he thought the notion was completely ridiculous.
Applejack, on the other hand (or hoof, as it were), thought otherwise. “That ain’t silly. Rarity makes them fancy-shmancy dress saddles. Nothin’ wrong with callin’ it a ‘Battle Saddle’.”
“Well, if that’s what ya think. So, Mr. Macintosh,” the Texan said as he turned to the heavily-armed stallion. “Whaddya think of yer ‘Battle Saddle’ then?”
“I think it’s a mighty fine piece of craftsmanship,” Big Macintosh said with a smile.
“Come now, Big Red,” Heavy said as he picked his weapon. Applejack had since learnt that it was called, quite counter-intuitively, a ‘minigun’. As the door opened, Heavy chuckled. “Engineer is in for busy time,” he said as he and Big Macintosh disappeared into the maze-like passages of RED Base.
“What did he mean by that?” Applejack asked.
“No idea.” Engineer went to close the door but stopped when he saw what was outside. “Aw hell.
Applejack poked her head out and saw the entirety of RED Team and the ponies they were instructing standing there, looked inside expectantly. “Horseapples,” she exclaimed. She could tell that they were in for a very busy time.


Engineer collapsed onto the fold-up chair in the corner. “Whoo-ee,” he said as he wiped his brow. “I am exhausted.” He had every right to be, as well. He had been working non-stop for close to two hours. He had been modifying triggers, altering grips, refashioning stocks, tweaking sights and in general customizing weapons so that they were easier for the ponies to use.
He looked around his workshop and sat up straighter when he realised that the pony he was meant to be instructing, Applejack, was nowhere to be seen. “Applejack?” he called out. “Miss Applejack?” he called out again, this time sounding really worried. If truth be told, he honestly didn’t know what was hiding in some of the deeper corners of the workshop. His first thought was that she had gotten trapped under something that had fallen. The ponies had yet to be configured into the respawn system, and the idea of the mare death’s was almost too much for him. “Applejack!” Engineer yelled, forgetting his exhaustion and taking a few steps forward. “Where are ya!?”
“Right here,” a voice said behind him. He turned to see that Applejack was still in one piece and was wearing a pair of goggles he had made for her. “Whatcha yellin’ for?” she asked.
“Oh thank goodness,” Engineer said, his shoulders slumping. “Fer a moment there I thought that you got yerself trapped under somethin’.” It was then that he noticed something odd about the mare. She seemed... calmer. The Sentry Gun had been reactivated, which should have scared her. It had taken the rest of the Team days to warm up to the idea of fighting alongside a cold, heartless machine. Then he remembered something perhaps even more significant: He hadn’t reactivated the Sentry Gun. “Uh, Applejack?” he asked warily. “Did you, uh, turn mah Sentry Gun back on?”
“That I did,” the mare responded, smiling widely. “Why?” she asked, her smile vanishing. “Was Ah not meant to?”
“No, no.” Engineer was quick to reassure the mare, if only to give himself time to try and figure out why she was so calm. “Where’d ya disappear to, anyway?”
“Ah was here the whole time. You were too busy workin’ to see me.”
“Ah.” Engineer relaxed a little.
“Why do ya have a crate fulla gold, anyway?” Applejack asked. The Texan froze.
“Applejack,” he said slowly, not turning around, “did you, or did you not, touch any of it?”
“Ah wouldn’t have known if it was gold or not if Ah didn’t!” the orange mare replied, a hint of anger in her tone. That was all Engineer needed to know.
“Applejack, I need you to promise me that you will never, and I mean never, go anywhere near that stuff ever again.” His tone made it clear that it didn’t matter to him just how important she was, she would suffer the full wrath of the Texan’s fury should she disobey.
“O-okay,” she said, taking a few steps back. “Ah won’t go near yer gold no more. Ah’m sorry.”
“Firstly, it ain’t yer fault,” Engineer said with an apologetic smile. “And secondly, that ain’t gold. It looks like it, but it’s actually somethin’ called Australium.”
“Australium?” Applejack repeated.
“I don’t know much about it, but what I do know ain’t exactly pretty.” Engineer let out a sigh. “It’ll enhance yer intelligence, but it’ll make ya real violent too. It just wouldn’t be right, seein’ a gal like you change like that.”
Applejack was touched. “Well, shucks, Engie, Ah didn’t know you cared so much.”
“Of course I do,” he replied with a chuckle. “So ya really turned the Sentry back on?”
“Yep. Must be somethin’ ta do with that ‘enhanced in-tell-i-gence’ ya mentioned before,” she replied, making a point of deliberately mispronouncing ‘intelligence’.
Engineer laughed at that. “Come on. I still need to teach you to shoot straight.”
As they left the workshop, Applejack cast a furtive glance at the corner that held the crate of Australium. While becoming violent was not something she wanted, the idea of being smarter was one that appealed to her, if only because she wanted to better understand what Engineer did. Surely if she only exposed herself to it in small doses it wouldn’t affect her too badly. Right?


The door to the workshop hissed open. A pony stuck their head inside, making sure that they were alone and undetected. After feeling confident that that was the case, the figure entered and made their way in. In the dark it took them quite a while to find what they were looking for, especially as they didn’t want to knock something over and alert anyone to their presence.
After close to half an hour, they found what they were looking for. A seemingly simple wooden crate, tucked away into a corner so as not to get in the way. Its lid was pushed open, revealing bar upon bar of golden metal, a picture of a muscular man boxing with a kangaroo printed on each.
Applejack grinned in the darkness. She looked at the Australium greedily as she basked in its glow. She took a deep breath as she inhaled the air that had been released when she opened the crate. She laughed as she exhaled, a low laugh that echoed eerily through the still workshop.


Name: Applejack

Class: Engineer
Weapon loadout
Primary: Shotgun
Secondary: Pistol
Melee: Wrench
Equipment: Sentry Gun, Dispenser, Teleporter
Job: Area Denial


And the ending flourish, because it seems necessary.


Author's Notes:
Yes I gave Big Macintosh a Battle Saddle. Full credit for that goes to Kkat and the brilliant Fallout Equestria. If you’ve yet to read it, I suggest you do.
Australium. This won’t end well.
The art you see above is a piece I commissioned, along with nine others. The artist doesn’t feel that they’re good enough to be the ‘official’ art for my story. I beg to differ. You can hit him up on his DA here.
And why was Applejack’s first impression wronger than half a worm in an apple? Where’d the other half go, hmm?