• Published 2nd Sep 2013
  • 741 Views, 7 Comments

Chain Reaction - Silent Running



Michael Spechart, and his adopted pony daughter, Amber Sage, live on the outskirts Detroit in 2039, in a very different future. One where every little change, could cause a chain reaction.

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This Home of Ours

Chain REACTion. Chapter One: This Home of Ours.

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It doesn’t seem like all that long ago when things were normal, when things, well they made more sense anyways. This city, like many other elements of humanity, has seen its glory days come, and then go. Only to return triumphantly, it’s what we seem to do best as a society. When hope is lost, that is when the true measure of a person can be found. We saved this city, bit by bit, piece by bloody piece. Until one day, out of the ashes of a shattered history, we rose again to triumph. For a time, things were good. But I guess as the tide changes, all things, for better or worse, must to come to an end. Now, it’s back to bust for us here, but everything is so much different. The population, is so incredibly unique, like you cannot even begin to believe. We have endured so much before, we have seen the best, and worst of humanity, but maybe, just maybe, with our new residents coming in, and a new industrial titan on the rise, perhaps we can fix this city and restore it yet again.

The year is 2039. My name is Michael Spechart, and this is my city, my home, my heart, my Detroit.

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Rumbles of thunder and brilliant displays of lightning dominated the greater landscape of Detroit. Beyond the comfort of the inner sanctum of Detroit proper, laid the last suburbs considered ‘safe’ under the protection of the shield. These suburban communities had seen a steady decline in population, and much of them were in significant disrepair. Michael Spechart’s reflection wearily greeted him in one of the only remaining decent windows on this first floor. He looked out into the dimly lit street, one functioning street light left, and only two other homes with a light on barely illuminated the rain soaked neighborhood.

There was little to be done tonight. He slowly turned and looked on as his, rather unique, daughter Amber Sage, was packing up the evening’s activities. She carefully flexed her wings to put the little pieces of the games back in their boxes. The two had just settled in after the storm forced another night of board games and other strictly indoor fun.

Normally they would go out and enjoy the local park, which, incredibly enough, was considered safe, to an extent. However, with the powerful storm banging on their door, they were left with little else to do. Flashes of lightning entered the home in a very distorted manner, fracturing across every surface they touched. Many of their windows had been boarded up, in part to deter the periodic marauding looters, but also because cash was too tight to properly fix several that had been broken into. Michael did his best to provide for the two of them, but work was very tight these days, and Sage wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was he did. Despite having a plethora of activities she could do in her room, she was increasingly restless this night. The unseasonably ferocious storm battered the aging home, the roof creaking as if expressing its pain under the constant assault.

Storms this vicious seldom hit their run-down, formerly vibrant, suburban neighborhood. In part because of the city’s location in the country, but also because the incredible industrial output of the American Motor Corporation. It employed a tremendous number of people and ponies, doing everything it could to keep the central part of Detroit safe to the best of its abilities in these dark times. However, between attempting to maintain essential services, expand its industrial output, and ensure the safety of the population, weather control was steadily falling to the wayside.

This was a depressing era to be living in the once vibrant city. After an industrial accident left much of the surrounding area uninhabitable, a significant portion of the combined pony-human population chose to flee to more industrious cities to the south. Those who decided to stay had to move closer to the city center under the protective umbrella of American Motors, who vowed to protect their dying city at all costs. With ruthlessly efficient law enforcement policies enacted, and specialized units such as the massive number of SmartCop fully autonomous patrol units scouring the city, there was little to fear inside the protective embrace of the shield.

Rumors persisted that people and ponies had a tendency to vanish in the dark if they chose to leave the protective barrier. Law enforcement had simply abandoned those areas due to manpower issues, and malfunctioning drones. ‘Madness exists beyond the barriers’ is what everyone and everypony now believed.

However, here in the relative safety of the Spechart residence, everything would appear that it was fine. Amber Sage quietly concluded it was best to ignore the terrible roar of the storm, and decided to watch some television instead. She absent mindedly browsed the channels looking for any number of her favorite shows, but it seemed nature would intervene. The digital channels began to degrade in quality, buffering and flickering in and out, as the storm only seemed to be picking up intensity outside.

She began wondering if perhaps it was a good time to look for a flashlight. As if the gods themselves were listening to her thoughts, the power began to die on them. The lights flickered several times, and with one tremendous clap of thunder, the power was lost completely. Amber furrowed her brow in frustration as her paused game data on her XBOX2000 was now lost to the void.

With an incredibly audible groan, she decided there was only one possible course of action.

“DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD! The power’s out!” she yelled from her bed, stating the very obvious. Yet there was no response. Showing something that would normally be considered concern in most people, she decided to go investigate this lack of response. She tiphooved out of her room, though she didn’t quite know why, dad was likely still going to be awake as the night was young. As she entered the hallway, a degrading quality LED flashlight clasped in her mouth. She looked around at the blackened site before her. There was something incredibly unsettling about the hallway, the shapes were all severely distorted by the frequent lightning just outside, as the rain battered the windows.

She continued to creep towards her dad’s room, only to find the door wide open. Cautiously, she shined her dim flashlight around the room, everything seemed to be in the right places. Yet he was clearly not here. She turned around and glided down the stairs making no sound in the process. Things were no different as she reached the lower level of their home, here the boarded windows stifled the frequent lightning, but it still brightly lit up the gaps in boarding. She continued to search for Michael.

“Dad? Where are you?” she called out into the darkness, actually becoming concerned now. She was starting to move with urgency through the small house, there was only one place left. The basement. There were few rules that were rigidly enforced in Spechart Domicile, one of those rules was, ‘don't go into the basement.’ Amber wasn’t actually sure why such an absurd rule was still in place, she had assumed it was for her protection when she was a child; but now, well she wasn’t sure.

As she made her way into the kitchen, the door to the basement was nearing, she came upon it, only to find it wide open. The first thing that struck her was the incredible airflow pouring out of the stairwell. Her wings, acutely aware of the air around them, fluttered and adjusted to get a feel for the new found airflow. With no other options, she decided that some rules had to be broken. She began the descent.

Amber Sage could not believe how long the stairs were taking to descend, she chose to trot down them instead of fly in the event of any unforeseen obstacles in this near complete darkness. Her dying flashlight did little to aid her journey, the walls of the stairwell were crude, with nothing remarkable to note. The only thing she could think about was the steadily intensifying breeze, and the ever slight curvature of the stairs, and the distant echo of some strange sounds emanating from below, though she may have been imagining that part. She paused to gather her thoughts as the end approached.

Finally, after what felt like an absurdly vast amount of time, she reached the bottom. It was cold down here, even with her protective layer of fur, she could feel the bite of the air around her. Was he really down here? Only one way to find out. She very carefully moved her way through the stacked boxes, and other oddities from a bygone era that was all around. It was then that she realized she could make out some sort of light in the distance. She thought to herself, is this basement really that huge? She killed what little light was left emanating from her flashlight, and verified there was something ahead. She quickened her pace, she had to know what that light was!

That is when she began to hear noises, mechanical sounds, machinery whirring to life. Something was going on in the rapidly approaching room. She summoned all her courage, and peered in. There she saw something beyond explanation, the silhouette of her father was encased in a sea of light as sparks flew all around from in front of him. The distinct sound of a machine grinder. She noticed several odd shapes on the work counter, but couldn’t make them out exactly over the blinding light of the sparks. She began to look all around the room, parts and pieces, odds and ends, from some kind of project, or hobby, was strewn across the room. Heaps of scrap metal sat near the base of the counter. She had become entranced in her surroundings to such a point, that she failed to hear the grinder come to a halt.

“Amber, what are you doing down here!?” Her trance was suddenly shattered by the alarmed, raised tone of Michael, who looked one part shocked, and one part clearly annoyed. She began to stumble back and fall over herself, her flashlight fell from her grip.

“I uh... just wanted to... uh... you see the power... and uh... the lights... and uh... I didn’t mean to.. I’m sorry!” Amber Sage began to scramble backwards, but crashed right into a pile of boxes. They collapsed over her. Michael could not stay angry at the pony, as he walked over to her and cleared the boxes.

“I guess I can’t keep what I’m doing down here a secret forever, c’mon, it’s time you learn what dad does.” He walked with her back into the workshop. What she saw before her was like nothing else she had ever seen. Her eyes glistened as she struggled to find words that would properly describe it.

“Dad.... this... is... SO.... awesome!” She squealed as she leapt towards the work counter. There splayed out in all of its incomplete glory, was the pieces to what could only be a powered suit. Wires jutted out of the incomplete suit in numerous places, exposed segments of what looked like a muscle fiber of some sort were visible in the gaps between the exterior plating. This was magnificent. She knew her dad was some kind of engineer by trade, but this? This was out of this world. She immediately flew back over to her dad and proceeded to punch him in the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell Amber! What was that for?” He groaned as he rubbed his sore shoulder. She was still hovering right at face level.

“BECAUSE you never told me anything about the awesome stuff you do down here! And for years you kept saying ‘blah blah stay out of the basement blah blah!’ But I can’t believe you would want to keep this a secret from your daughter!” She blurted out in one breath. She lowered herself to the floor again. Looking up at him with a truly unamused scowl. Michael walked over to the stool that sat in the corner and plopped down.

“I haven’t told you because what I’m doing down here is pretty much illegal these days, Amber. After the industrial accident that leveled half of old Detroit, this kind of technology was quickly deemed excessive for personal use. Basically, the feds seized control of the advanced development. And it put a lot of us out of work.” He sighed and looked over at a tired calendar on the wall, clearly several years beyond its useful age. The faded photo that embellished the top showed a group of men and ponies in lab coats posing triumphantly next to some kind of machine.

“American Motors kept funding the project in secret, they pumped a pretty decent amount of R&D cash into our ‘defunct’ department. When the feds swooped in and shut everything down, American had other plans in mind. So here I am, toiling away at this labor of love in the middle of the night.” He suddenly looked down at the pony who was staring into space, clearly pretending to still be interested. He chuckled and threw a crinkled up piece of paper at her head, hitting square in the temple. She nearly fell backwards at the sudden ambush. Before she could react any further he spoke again.

“So what did you come down here for again? Something about the power?” he asked trying to jog his short term memory. She quickly perked back up, still rubbing the spot on her head where she got pelted. She snorted annoyedly, eliciting a chuckle from the man.

“Well, DAD, I was trying to tell you before you scared the crap out of me that the power went out! And I tried to find you but noooo, you were down here in your super secret base of DOOOM!” she accentuated that last part by throwing her hooves into the air and extending her wings. He raised an eyebrow at this and looked at her expectantly.

“Well, did you bother to investigate it? You are pretty darn smart at figuring stuff out.” he quipped back. She gave him a deadpan look in return.

“You’re kidding me right Dad? How is one pony supposed to figure out the source of a power failure!” She began hovering again as he once again attempted to suppress a laugh. She was a smart pony, and equally funny see her get upset. He noticed the pitiful, poor excuse for a flashlight she had dropped. He bent down and picked it up, examining it.

“You weren’t seriously using this piss poor excuse for a light to search around the house were you?” He asked with a hint of snark in his tone. Amber snorted again and in the blink of an eye swiped it back out of his hand, clutching it with her wing.

“What else was I supposed to use?” She raised her voice this time. Michael for his part just turned and opened a closet outside the workshop, revealing a plethora of emergency supplies, including a line of brand new flashlights. She simply fell back on her tush and looked dumbstruck.

“I hate you.” she deadpanned. He just looked at her and burst out into a fit of laughter. Finally, after a moment to catch his breath, and to stop hiding behind his stool as she went on the attack, they decided to go investigate the power outage upstairs. As they made their way back to the stairwell, she had another burning question to ask.

“Dad, why do you still have power down here? I didn’t hear any kind of generator, and if we do have one, why the heck can’t I use it too?” she groaned. He continued on without skipping a beat.

“Simple, Amber. Solar battery supply. I set it up a few months ago when I moved my projects down here. They are good for 72 hours without a recharge!” he happily replied. She was none too amused at this little tidbit of information. She did have to recall though, despite everything bad happening, the power supply had always been a constant. The power lines were mostly subterranean at this point, and there was almost never a disruption in supply. American Motors protects.

The conversation about the necessities and allotment of reserve power supplies for the household quietly faded as the two made their way back up the suspiciously long flight of stairs. The ascent took longer as Michael simply could not keep pace with the spry pony who could launch herself up the stairs in leaps and bounds. He had to admit to himself, he really needed to double down on the whole staying fit thing.

“C’mon slowpoke! You’re still huffing and puffing down there!” Amber shouted from the top of the stairs. She could hear him very loudly sneer from a dozen stairs away. She chuckled loudly.

“I heard that too!” she shouted back. He finally made it to the top of the stairs, trying desperately to pretend that he wasn’t nearly out of breath.

“Ha, you try being so spry at my age, shorty!” he quipped back. Causing the pony to float up to his level as he knew the little jab always got her angry. There were few things more enjoyable and strenuous all at the same time in the universe than the relationship between a father and daughter. She stared him down for a moment before he grabbed her and wrapped her in a bear hug.

“You are so damn amusing when you get pissed, Amber. C’mon let’s go check the power receiver in the attic.” The two navigated their way back through the darkness of the house. Michael looked around diligently, the ferocity of the storm shook the house with its anger. The near constant roar of thunder, driving rains, and the howling winds shattered the silence associated with the power outage. It was unsettling to the point that even Michael was unnerved by it. He had to wonder how the shields were holding up. He glanced out one of the still unshattered windows, the lightning playing tricks on his eyes, as he picked up constant phantom movements. Dismissing any negative thoughts, the two made their way upstairs.

The entrance to the attic was just an old fashioned pull down hatch. They almost never went into the attic as the only things up here were Christmas decorations, and likely memories of lives long past.

“Uh Dad, maybe you should go up first,” Amber said with a slight tremble in her voice. Her wings shivered at the thought of leading the crusade to find the power receiver. Michael just shrugged and without another word proceeded to climb up the creaky old stairs. He quickly made his way into the rafters, shining his light around. He was greeted by the dust covered relics of the holiday season, still many months away. He looked down to see Amber pacing about nervously at the base of the lift.

“C’mon up scaredy cat! Nothing up here but me and Santa!” he called down. She looked up, her pupils dilating at the prospect of going up. But in one quick movement she flared her wings and leapt the entire length, crashing right into Michael as she made an uncalculated, eyes closed landing. He rolled over trying to mitigate the sudden intrusion.

“Oof! Why don’t you work on your blind targeting!” he barked as he brushed the dust off his shirt. Amber sheepishly pawed at the floor with her hoof, trying to look like she meant that.

“Ah, uh, I meant that! I was just... uh, testing your reflexes old man!” she sputtered out. He stared at her with a bemused expression.

“Call me ‘old man’ one more time and you can kiss your Xbox goodbye for a loooong time” he muttered. She gasped and proceeded to stare at him the saddest puppy dog eyes she could muster. Michael however had a wicked poker face, and stood steadfast against the sudden, and rapidly intensifying bombardment of ‘d’awww’ that was hitting him with everything she had. After an intense showdown of wills, the two simply deflected eye contact, both laughing. Time was short however, they had work to do.

“Alright the power supply shooould be right over.... ah yes here!” He pointed the flashlight at the large grey box near one of the two windows in the attic. The grey box had several diagnostic readouts on it, none of which were functioning. Only a small red light flashed next to a small sign that read ‘SYSTEM FAILURE.’ Michael scratched the small scrapings of hair on his chin. He looked around and noticed Amber was just looking around the confined space, trying to find something interesting to bring back into the world. He slumped back where he knelt, glancing out the window. But years of disuse had left the window covered in a layer of grime too thick to see through.

“Well shit, there goes that plan out the window!” He suddenly stared at the window right next to him. Amber’s face contorted into an amused smile.

“HA! No pun intended right, Dad?!” she yelled to him. He simply turned around with a look of pure malice. She quickly looked away pretending not to see him staring daggers at her. He wasn’t actually angry though, but the situation certainly warranted his scowl. It was then that his train of thought was violently shattered by a particularly massive clasp of thunder. Powerful enough to send shivers up and down his spine. The force of nature itself baring down on them was too much to ignore now.

“Let’s get back downstairs Amber, this is getting too dangerous for us to be up here.” She didn’t need another reason to go as she disappeared back down the lift in the blink of an eye. He scrambled over, and as he was about to make his way down the lift, another crash of thunder sent all his thoughts scattering. But something else pierced the madness to come to the forefront of his mind. When that last clasp of thunder hit, he heard a thunk too. He waited, zoning out everything else, concentrating on one thing. Another crash of thunder, and this time an even louder thunk, this one sounding much more distinct. Amber tried to get his attention but he quickly hushed her. He lowered himself down another step. The thunder arrived once again, and this time they both heard a very loud CRASH coming from downstairs. Michael’s eyes narrowed. He leapt down the attic stairs.

“Amber, go to your room right now, and lock the door.” He said in an icy tone. Amber suddenly looked completely shocked. She was about to raise her voice in protest, when another crash came from downstairs. He looked at her and she scrambled to her room. Michael quickly moved to his own bedroom. Inside the cluttered room, there sat a distinct black dresser, made of metal, and adorned in ornate shapes. Without a moment’s hesitation, he had the door unlocked and quickly reached inside. What he pulled out could only be described as an option of last resort.

His hand ran over the mechanically precise siding of a near mint condition G36 rifle. It was vintage, but nonetheless, had the stopping power he needed right now. He reached into the dresser again, pulling out three fully loaded, 30 round MAGPUL P-MAG magazines. He shook the first one and quickly slid it into the rifle. The rifle was adorned in upgrades, he lovingly referred to as ‘high-speed low-drag tacticool goodness’ to his friends at the lab. The holographic sight was still as brilliant as they day he bought it. The LED surefire light was quickly and calmly checked. As Michael spun around and quietly entered the hallway. He quietly cursed the fact that he had not remembered to pick up a set of proper night vision goggles. They were cheap enough these days anyways. Though with this constant bombardment of lightning, well, maybe not so much. Another crash from the downstairs quickly shifted his wandering thoughts back to the task at hand. He moved gently to the outside of Amber’s door, and whispered in.

“Hey Amber, everything’s gonna be fine, ok? Just don’t come out until I tell you, alright? I love you,” he said just above a whisper. Right on the other side, tears starting to stream down her face, she barely whispered back.

“Ok, Dad, I love you too..” Her words trembling out as she knew what was going on. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. But she always hoped and prayed that it would be the last. In the hallway, Michael prepared himself for the inevitable encounter. Normally, all it took was a few lights, some shouting, to deter a marauder. This time, with no power, and the storm to aid in their attack, he only had himself, his resolve, and thirty rounds of NATO 5.56 ammunition to stop them. He walked over to the top of the stairs, glanced down, and carefully aimed his weapon towards the lower level with his eye peering through the holographic sight. He decided the first course of action would be a verbal confrontation. If anyone was still downstairs, they would quickly be made aware of the presence of homeowners.

“If anyone is still down there, you have fifteen seconds to vacate the premises. There are people here, and we will defend ourselves!” he shouted. The movements from downstairs suddenly came to a halt. While he heard the scramble of several footsteps, one set in particular could be heard coming closer to the steps. He doubled down his grip on the rifle. Suddenly, from the darkness of the downstairs came a low, gravelly voice.

“And what will you do to stop us?” is all the voice said. Michael simply steadied his hands, clearing his mind, and preparing for whatever was about to happen. He took in one last, deep, meaningful breath.

“Whatever must be done.” Michael had not long to wait as a shadowy figure began to round the steps. He lit up the surefire and with the element of surprise, fired three rounds, aiming for center mass. The deafening bang of the three bullets reaching out and touching their intended target shattered the hypnotic rumble of the storm around them. Michael wasted no time as he rapidly descended the steps. His body was now surging with endorphins as the adrenaline from his first engagement coursed through his veins. Check right, check left, he mentally spoke to himself as he cleared one room and the next. Another one of his last non-damaged windows lay smashed, the contents of the living room scattered all about. He cleared the entire house. Last checking the reinforced basement door, no attempts had been made to open it. He lowered his rifle for the first time, as he quietly moved back towards the now stilled intruder. The man’s last words still playing through his mind. He thought to himself, ‘what did he mean by us?’

Amber was now curled up on her bed, the panic from what had just transpired outside her room had ended her tears, but now she was simply awash in her own fears and doubt. Dad had been downstairs for a while now, and there was no shouting, or yelling, or anything. Try as she might to leave the safety of her bed, her hooves would not budge. She only had a moment to realize there was a new silhouette in the window of her bedroom.

Michael was still perusing the dead man’s clothes for any kind of information. When the sudden breaking of glass came from upstairs. As he spun around, time suddenly seemed to stop.

“DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD! HEEEEELP!” came a piercing and distinct scream from upstairs. Everything was moving in slow motion for him. He blasted up the stairs at superhuman speeds. Within a moment he was upon the door. Smashing it in with all of his rage and courage. He found another silhouette, struggling near the bed. He then realized it was another pony. He launched himself across the room. Batting the intruder away from his daugher with the rifle. The stunned attacker quickly recovered and went to lunge at him. Only to be met by the warm envelop of four well placed rounds. The mass of pony fell silent to the ground with an unceremonious thunk. Michael’s eyes were ablaze with fury as he stared down at the dead attacker. That is when the muffled cries of his daughter set his mind asunder as he spun around.

He rushed to her bed. Finding her under the blankets. She at first started to toss, but he quickly pulled the covers off. She opened her eyes and saw her dad. She stopped for a second, just staring at him. Until the moments of terror all came crashing down around them both, in tune with a powerful clasp of thunder. The room was swirling with emotions and windswept rain as she burst into tears once more. Wrapping herself around him as he embraced her tightly. With the gun dangling from his hand behind her wings, he quietly wept as well. They stood there for what seemed like forever, embracing each other as he wrapped himself around her, shielding her, protecting the only important thing left in his life.

“I’m so sorry Amber, I should have been there!” he choked out. She only wept harder and tightened her hug. She sniffled away another deep sob and blurted out.

“No Dad, please don’t say that! You did what you had to, and you came when I called. You did nothing wrong. I’m ok I swear.” she sputtered out between heavy sobs. Michael’s resolve was now firm. They stayed like that for a long time. He continued to protect his daughter, but his mind was rapidly clearing. In a moment of absolute clarity, he said to her defiantly.

“This will never happen again, Amber. I promise you that. I will protect you from this world, and end this madness once and for all.” The two finally ended their long, somber hug. They both went downstairs, making their way to the basement.

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The lights flickered back on in the workshop. Before them was the parts to an incomplete suit of armor.

Michael looked down at his daughter, and then glanced back to the armor.

“The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men... and ponies to do nothing.” He looked back down at her, she tried to weakly smile, her brilliant golden eyes looking deep into his soul. A blaze of determination was alight in her glare.

The two of them quickly went to work.

It ended now.

Author's Note:

So this is it, the big opening to something I am very excited about. I hope you all enjoy the journey we're about to go on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

I'd very much like to take a moment to thank everyone who has contributed to this; namely, Team Machine and Might. Without their help and encouragement, this likely would have never come to fruition.

Can you believe this actually started as a random joke? I can't either.