//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5: Falling Into Place 
// Story: Fallout Equestria: Revamp 
// by midworld1999 
//------------------------------//

Sector: Shackle
98 Years, 5 Months, 13 Days PSR

By the next morning, I had explained Eniac's plan to Wick. She loved it. Even so, she requested two small favors in regard to the plan. I had no problem with these minute changes. They wouldn't seriously jeopardize the overall result. Still, we decided to keep these changes to ourselves. Eniac didn't need to know.

We spent our first week organizing our new workplace. There was a lot to go through. All the turret parts went in one area, sentry-bot parts in another pile, and so on. From there we further segregated the parts, dividing individual components into piles. Knowing where everything was would move everything along at a quicker pace. This turned out to be indispensable later on.

Even with the advanced organization to help us, the next nineteen months were spent putting the machines together. We had many things slowing us up.

First off, we had no blueprints, schematics, or circuitry diagrams. We were working purely off of trial and error. We almost got into trouble early when we activated the targeting system on a turret while the gun was attached. Only Wick's fast reaction saved us from being pumped full of holes. After that, we always left the guns and ammunition aside when fiddling with the targeting system.

Wick did most of the actual building while I directed her. I had the know-how, and she had opposable thumbs. She learned a fair bit about robotics and technology while working with me, but it was clear she'd never gain a mastery over it like I could. Her talents lied elsewhere.

Anyway, because of the lack of instructions and the precautions we took, it took us nine months just to finish our first sentry and turret. Of course, once we'd done it once, replicating it wasn't too hard. Just a matter of remembering where everything went. Over the next ten months, we got six sentries and thirteen turrets up and running.

There were other things slowing our pace too. The next big one was gun repairs. At least half a dozen times a week, some slaver would come in with a gun malfunction, or a jam, or even just whining that it was dirty. I think that Hammer Swing told his crew to bring their weapons to me for even the stupidest, most trivial reasons. A sort of personal revenge for defying him. Over those nineteen months, I must have seen every pistol, rifle, flamethrower, and sledgehammer in the entire camp. I didn't mind in the slightest. It slowed our progress, sure, but it was also part of the plan.

Our work was further delayed by the other requested Eniac made. There were a lot variables involved in her plan, and I was responsible for all technical aspects, which was one of the most important parts of her scheme. I did what I could with the parts I had, but occasionally had to request a part or two from her. She always got them. Like the robots, these mini projects took plenty of trial and error, and so took a fair bit of time to get them up and running.

It sort of bothered me that Eniac, someone so smart, put most (if not all) of her eggs in one basket with Wick and I. One day I worked up the courage to ask her. "Why put so much trust in me and Wick? We'd just gotten here when you let us in on your plan. We could've ratted you out to Hammer for some perks or something. Why'd you trust us so quickly?" Eniac kept her silence.

Once the robots were put together, we began the programming process. This process was, once again, purely guess and check. I had no idea how to program, so Wick tried typing commands with my instruction and seeing what happened (without loaded ammunition, of course). It took us another six months (in addition to the nineteen we spent building the bastards) to get the robots into a combat ready state. Thankfully, the sentries and turrets read the same language. If they hadn't, it might've taken another year.

All of this work was bound to pay off in a big way. There was also the added bonus of gaining familiarity with Stable-Tec machinery and code. No doubt that would be useful once we escaped.

When we told Eniac that our plan was complete, her only reaction was a small, confident smile. We knew we'd done good. She told us to be ready, because she was sending Swiss out to let the rest of the slaves in on the plan. Once everyone had been notified, we would strike. Ten days later, the labor of the past two years bore fruit.





Sector: Shackle
100 Years, 6 Months, 22 Days PSR

The day prior to the battle, Eniac had rallied a series of trustworthy ponies and gave them devices she'd had me develop as one of the mini-projects. She had them distributed to each of the kennels, with instructions to use them after nightfall. After ten o'clock, all unicorns of my kennel gathered into Eniac's tent. It was her plan, so she had the honor of removing the horn-locks from every unicorn slave in our group. Like a ritual.

When mine came off, it felt like an overbearing weight had been lifted from my back. Like I if I wasn't careful, I could float to the moon. I tried to focus. There'd be time to celebrate later. For now, it was best to keep my head clear.

Once the unlocking was finished, Eniac led us outside to the fire pit, where the rest of the kennel's population was waiting. Here she had Swiss reexplain the more vital aspects of the plan, highlighting what was expected for us during each phase. Wick and I already knew the plan inside and out, so we talked quietly to ourselves at the back of the crowd.

"You nervous?"

"No, we're only about to take on an entire camp of slavers with a bunch of undernourished, unarmed children. Why the hell would I be nervous?"

I ignored her sarcasm. I'd gotten well used to it. "I'm nervous too. I know we triple checked everything, but I can't help it. So many things could go wrong!"

"Well it's a bit late to stop now, in case you hadn't noticed. I said I was nervous. I didn't say I was going to drop out now."

"Neither did I."

"Then what's the problem?"

"You're impossible." I sighed and turned back to Swiss, who was just finishing up.

"That's about it. If all goes well, we'll barely have to lift a hoof. Even so, stay focused. Be ready to run or fight if something goes wrong. We won't have a second chance at this." With that, he leapt off the box he was using as a podium and trotted away.

Wick turned to me. "Guess we better turn in."

"Yeah, don't want to be tired tomorrow."

We were almost to our beds when Swiss came calling again. "Revamp. Hey!"

I turned to face him. We'd become decent friends over the past two years, mostly due to the fact that he was involved in Eniac's plans. He'd taken to tagging along with Wick and I after we got back from repair duties. It was a bit annoying to have him around at first. He acted like such a little kid, it was hard to believe he was two years older than me. But over time, he sort of grew out of it, matured. He must've hit a growth spurt or something, because now he almost matched me for height.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to talk real quick."

"Do you want to talk to me?" asked Wick.

"Not specifically."

"Then I'm going to bed. G'night." She collapsed onto her mattress.

Swiss and I walked in the opposite direction so we wouldn't disturb her. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"I just wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? What for?"

"You're so dense! None of this would be happening without you!"

"What? Don't be stupid."

"You're just humble. That's why I like you. You've done so much for us, and you don't want to take any credit for it," Swiss insisted.

"No, really, it was all Eniac's–"

"Yes, really, without your help, your talents, you enacting Eniac's plan, we wouldn't be free tomorrow!"

"But we might not be free tomorrow! What if our plan falls through? It'll be my fault! They'll die because of me!"

Swiss expression grew softer, more comforting. "You don't want to take responsibility. You're scared. Why didn't I see it." He frowned. "Listen, we all chose to follow this plan. We could've said no. We didn't. Don't put all that weight on your shoulders. Our choices are not your responsibility."

I sighed. "You're right. I'm worrying too much. I... I think I needed to hear that. Thanks Swiss."

"No." He reached up and pecked me on the lips. "Thank you."

And then he trotted away, a huge grin on his face.

I just stood there, trying to figure out what just happened.

"The fuck?" I whimpered.





Sector: Shackle
100 Years, 6 Months, 23 Days PSR
0400

I tried sleeping, I really did. Around midnight, I was still awake. Dammit Swiss, of all the times to spring this on me! By that point, it wasn't even worth trying to sleep anymore.

I didn't to think about the battle. I definitely didn't want to think about Swiss. I settled on thinking about the future, as uncertain as it was.

There was no doubt in mind that Wick and I would strike out on our own. We'd always been a bit outcasted from the majority of the slaves because of our families' nomadic nature. Most of the other slaves knew each other before they'd been slaves, had lived in the same towns, even if those towns were burned to the ground now. They still had each other down here. What families we'd had were gone, killed by the masters of this hell. There was nothing for us down here in the south. So where would we go?

I thought our best bet was north with the NCR. The NCR was reputedly the hub of civilization. Surely they had need for ponies like Wick and I, keeping order and repairing machines.

At the same time, I knew reaching the NCR could be dangerous. According to what my parents had said, there was at least 200 miles of wild wasteland separating the southern lands from the northern ones. Making the journey with only two people would crazy. Who knew what was out there?

One detour I planned on making was to Sunflower. She'd been a friend to, if not both my parents, then at least my mother. If we went to her before venturing north, she might be able to give us some valuable information, and maybe even supplies in return for some repair jobs.

I was just beginning to consider what the next step might be when I saw Eniac emerge from the darkness. I sat up to greet her. "Couldn't sleep. Is it time?"

She nodded.

"Alright then."

I roused Wick from her sleep and helped Eniac wake the rest of the slaves. Within ten minutes we were all crowded around the door to the kennel. Eniac had someone signal the rest of the kennels with a flashlight. In thirty seconds every kennel had responded.

Eniac handed me the device controller I'd put together. "You can do the honors."

I smiled. "With pleasure." I pressed the first button on the remote.

On the other side of the camp, seven sentry-bots sprang to life. I flicked a switch. The sentries' primary program shut off. With the main objective gone, the robots fell back on hidden subroutine I'd snuck in: to seek and kill any organisms tagged as slaver. With one exception, every slaver had been tagged by Wick while getting their weapon fixed.

With that done, I threw the next switch. Everyone's collar gave a harsh beep. For the moment, the particular frequency that caused the collars to explode was jammed. If the slavers had enough time to realize that we were behind this, we would be safe from having our heads exploded.

Once our collars were deactivated, we cut through the lock on the kennel door and streamed out, making our way to the slaver's side of camp to watch the action, and intervene if necessary. As we crept closer, a sudden wave of gunfire and screams reached our ears. The sentries had found their targets.

By the time we got to the slaver side, many of our captors were already out of their beds, defending against the seemingly spontaneous robot uprising. The sentries were screaming prewar battle cries at them.

"Equestria will never fall to the zebra invasion!" "Freedom is the sovereign right of every Equestrian!" "Zebra Victory: Impossible!" "Zebras detected on Equestrian soil! Lethal force engaged!" "Exterminate!"

My head swam and vision blurred at the last one.

For a few minutes, it seemed the robots had the upper hand. At least a dozen slavers were incapacitated, and not one sentry had fallen. The slavers were being torn to shreds, their bodies performing a spastic red dance before tumbling motionless to the ground. But before the last slaver could fall, a new, fully armed and ready group joined the fight. The sentries had only taken out one group of slavers, and at least one more remained.

I recognized one of the attackers as a member of the trio that killed my parents. I couldn't remember his name. He was wielding a flamethrower and singing his own battle cry. "Trogdor! Trogdor! Burninating the countryside, burninating the peasants, burninating all the peoples!"

Again my head ached.

With the sentries' focus still on the original set of slavers, the new slavers opened fire on the bots. Their backs were to the slavers, their vital exhaust ports exposed. In thirty seconds, four of the seven sentries were out of commission, their inner working smashed by bullets or fried by magical energy. Through the gunfire I could make out grins of triumph on the attackers faces.

I turned to Eniac, the question evident on my face. She nodded. I flicked the next switch.

Every slaver holding a weapon (save one in particular) felt their weapon turn scorching hot. Before they could drop it, it exploded in their mouths, faces, or sides. My eyes were on the flamer-slaver when his fiery legs and head were launched in five different directions. A stray thought made me smile. Trogdor burninated him.

In the space of three seconds, every slaver but one was dead or dying, their own guns turned against them. Already I could hear slaves yelling, crying out in triumph.

But Wick and I's job wasn't done yet. There was one enemy we'd made sure we would face personally.

"You ready?"

The look on Wick's face said it all, but she responded anyway. "Fuck yeah."





Sector: Shackle
98 Years, 5 Months, 13 Days PSR

I'd just finished explaining Eniac's plan to Wick. "So what do you think?"

"I think it sounds like we're getting out here."

"So you're going to help me?" I asked.

"Of course! I only got two requests," she said.

"Let me hear them."

"First, don't put an explosive charge in two guns."

"Got any particular guns in mind?"

"A pair. I told you about them before. Carvers." I remembered her telling me about them on the journey to camp. "They'll be pistols, the most beautiful pistols you ever saw. Nickel plated revolvers. The cylinder will hold five high caliber bullets. And they'll look old. Ancient even." As she spoke, her eyes took on a nostalgic light.

"Why do you want me to save these guns?"

"They were Bert's. Now they're mine. They're not taking those from me too."

"You sure they'll even be here?"

"I'm sure. These guys know something valuable when they see it, and those guns are one of a kind."

"And if they sold them?"

"They haven't," she said, her voice filled with otherworldly certainty.

I decided not to question her about it further. "What's your second request?"

"Make sure Hammer Swing survives the onslaught."

I grinned, knowing exactly what she thinking. "To save him for us."

She nodded. My smile grew wider.





Sector: Shackle
100 Years, 6 Months, 23 Days PSR

We galloped around the camp, searching for the lone survivor in the carnage of bloody craters. It was still nighttime, so I lit my horn with a lighting spell to aid in our search. After a quick lap around the encampment, there was still no sign of him. We stopped to catch our breath back near the kennels.

"He's not outside," I panted.

"Do you think he flew away?" asked Wick.

"It's possible, but I don't think so. That guy's got more ego than brains. He wouldn't want to admit defeat so easily, especially if he figured out his entire operation was destroyed by a bunch of foals. If he retreated at all, it wouldn't be far."

"Maybe he's hiding in one of the buildings," Wick suggested.

I nodded in thought. "Yeah, that seems right. He could hide out until he figured out what to do."

"But which building?"

I thought I knew. "Wherever he felt safest, whether it was really safe or not," I prompted.

Her eyes lit up. "His shack!"

Without waiting for a response, she sprinted in the building's direction. I hastily followed suit. By the time I reached the shack, she'd already broken down the door and gone inside.

I ran in and almost fell into the scuffle. Hammer and Wick were wrestling over a gun. One of the guns. A carver. The one's I hadn't rigged.

All the faux sophistication Hammer usually displayed had shattered. "You fucking cunt, get off me! I'll fucking kill you!" he snarled, straining to get control over the weapon.

Wick was equally vicious, biting and clawing any flesh she could reach. "Don't you dirty his guns with your claws, ka-mai! You don't deserve to touch them!"

I stepped forward to help Wick, but a flailing limb caught me on the muzzle. I fell backward hard, and lifted my head just in time to see Hammer brain Wick with the butt of the pistol and throw her aside.

With Wick out for the count, Hammer Swing's attention turned to me. "You..."

"Me..." I moaned, getting to my hooves.

"This... all this... you did this!"

I'd already resigned myself to death, so I didn't bother holding my tongue. "That's right. Your entire operation, all of your little underlings, destroyed by a kid. Destroyed by a kid you put in charge of fixing gun-toting robots. Brilliant move there!"

"SHUT UP!" He grabbed me by the scruff of my neck, his sharp claws drawing blood as they cut into flesh. He picked me up and slammed me against the wall, his face inches in front of mine. "I'm gonna kill you, you little cocksucker!"

I smiled spitefully. "That much is obvious. Go ahead, shoot me. Do it." I hocked a bloody loogie in his face.

It was Hammer's turn to grin. "No, no, that's too good for you. You're gonna suffer, little whelp!" He threw me across the room, where I landed on his pathetic throne. I crumpled into the seat, a limp marionette.

He strode over to strike me once more. "Little pup!" He picked me up, slammed me into the back of the chair and got in my face again, his head inches below mine as he held me up. "Wanna say anything else clever, smart-ass?" His whole face cackled with insane mirth. Even his eyes seemed to laugh. His eyes. His eyes...

The thought that saved my life came from nowhere. Eyes are squishy. Then I had it.

I threw all my weight forward, fell towards him, willing his grip to slip. It did. I angled my head. My horn tore through his eye.

He didn't go down. Instead he screamed and began thrashing. I wrapped my forelegs around his head, holding on for my life and Wick's. "GET OUT OF ME," he screamed, his desperate shrieks forming coherence. "GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!"

As he churned his head around, I felt warm liquid dribble down my face and spray it at the same time. He's lost at least a gallon already, he's gonna go down! I had time to think.

But he wasn't going down. In fact, he would shake me off soon. Oh, he'd die alright, but not before killing us.

Through the thrashing and spraying blood, I couldn't even begin to think, let alone plan a course of action. I was once again saved by my instinct taking over. I lit my horn with blue fire.

His screeches reached an unholy crescendo, then abruptly stopped. He fell to the ground mid-thrash, my horn still stuck in his face.

I laid there unmoving for some time, not quite believing. Not believing the ordeal of the past two years was over, that our final tormentor was dead by my own hooves. After several minutes, I forced myself to move. It took considerable effort to pull my horn out of his eye. It was only when I looked up and saw blood, eye mucus, and cooked grey matter coating my horn that reality sunk in.

We were free. We were fucking free. We were out of the fucking woods, we'd done it!

I forced myself to my hooves, wobbling from exhaustion. One step at a time, I made my way over to Wick, who was still unconscious on the floor. Once I was close enough, I let myself fall over next to her. I looked her over, saw her chest rising and falling regularly. Good.

"Hey. Hey Wick," I croaked. When she didn't respond, I poked her her nose. "Wick? Wake up!"

After a few minutes, her eyes finally peeked open. "What?"

"We won."

"Oh," she said, nodding as if I'd just told her the weather. "Good."

That about summed it up. "Yeah." I smiled. "Good."

She breathed out slowly. "I'm gonna sleep now. G'night."

"You mean 'good morning'."

"Whatever."

As it turns out, we both fell asleep there. Our first morning free was spent sleeping in. Nothing could compare.