• Published 10th Apr 2012
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Fallout: Equestria - Our Finest Hour - MintCakeWrites



Nopony wanted this war

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Chapter Four: Along Came a Spyder

“You just can't stop that little guy. He's like a... like a... Tank!”

A light buzzed quietly, the hum of electricity blunting the otherwise morbidly tense silence the two mares sat in. Down the hall, numerous medical ponies moved around, tending to patients waiting for their salvation under the knife. The two mares sat on an elegant couch, brought in for the pampered unicorn, neither wanting to shatter the calm of the corridor yet both wanting to relieve the other of their worries.

The tension was broken by the squeak of doors opening, and a blood soaked surgeon stepping out into the hallway and sighing heavily. He lent back and took the weight off his hooves, letting out another sigh as his horn glowed and removed his surgical mask. Floating a bottle of water to his mouth, he drank greedily.

“Is the operation going well doctor? The new hoof working fine?” The white unicorn stood up and walked to him, her companion just behind her.

“Yes ma'am, the nerves have attached well and he'll be able to start using it after he wakes,” the surgeon stood up despite the dull ache in his hind legs. Grafting the hoof to the stump had taken longer than they anticipated, and with more injuries than they expected. This was nearly not worth the half million bits.

“Phew, at least some good's gotta come outta this,” the second mare commented, her country accent thick and complementing her hat almost too well.

The unicorn nodded, “Agreed, though it's a shame the steel clashes so horribly with his mane, and that eye colour, simply revolting! Why did Twilight only commission two colours?”

A sigh from her orange companion made it clear that such conversations had taken place numerous times, “Will ya drop it prissy! Ya know how that pony thinks – anywho, this sure is the best of the two.”

“Hmm...”

The surgeon coughed slightly to pull the attention back to the matter of the near dead stallion in the operating theatre nearby. The near dead stallion that was costing well over 5 million bits to bring back. His initial intention was forgotten however, when he noticed the lack of pink in the hall.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but where is...”

“Pinkie Pie? She's preparing a party for when he wakes up,” Rarity responded as the Ministry Mares rolled their eyes at their companion's actions, yet also held a slight smile. The surgeon swallowed hard, such parties were infamous at the least.

“I don't think that's wise ma'am, sudden shock could cause serious problems when the nerves fully connect.”

Rarity began to object, before a pair of pegasi approached to join in the discussion; one mint green, bearing a lily for a cutie mark, the other a delicate yellow with a cascade of pink hair that fell softly over one eye.

The yellow mare paced the floor a little, and spoke towards it, “Um... excuse me, but I think I have a solution, if you don't mind me saying that is...”

“Not at all ma'am” spoke the exhausted surgeon, “and who, may I ask, is this companion of yours?'

“Private first class Starshine, sir,” the mint green pegasus stood to attention, bringing her wing to salute rather than her hoof; a sign of the Equestrian Air Force.

The surgeon nodded in return, allowing the Private to stand at ease, “... and what are her duties here, ma'am?”

“Oh! Um, well, you see, she knows the patient and helped calm him down when he was shot. So I was thinking that she could keep him calm when he wakes up,” the Ministry Mare gave a heart melting smile, her timid pride at the idea shining through.

The surgeon couldn't help but nod at the idea, it was logically sound and if one of the best rehabilitation ponies was recommending it then how could he refuse her?

“I understand ma'am, but would it not be easier to simply not throw a party as soon as he awakes? It seems only logical.”

Starshine stepped forward, standing to attention, “With all due respect sir, I want to be in the room when Rivet wakes up. After all he's been through... and what he'll have to go through afterwards... I think it's the least we could do to celebrate his recovery.”

The mare's voice wavered as she spoke his name; clearly his near death had been a shock to her. The surgeon had seen how she held his hoof until she was forced to leave to clear the blood off her coat, and even then she begged to see the patient one last time before the cyber operation began. Rarity and Applejack nodded in agreement at the mare's persistence.

“Eyup.”

“Indeed.”

Defeated, the surgeon turned to the final Ministry Mare present, “Do you agree as well ma'am?”

“Yes, if it's not too much hassle that is...” out came the warmest smile to have ever graced Equestria again.

“Not at all,” the surgeon pony smiled in return, before a buzzer sounded. A light flicked on over the door, the words 'Operating' lit up. The pony finished his water, pulled the mask back on and nodded to the mares in apology, “Ah, excuse me, I’m needed back in theatre. By the time I return, he'll be ready for anything.”

A confident nod, a squeak of a door and he was gone. The mares stood in the hallway, all looking at the darkened room.

“Ah sure hope so...”


The Royal Engineers, a collection of the most tech-savvy, combat ready ponies in Equestria. Despite only being in action for a little over a decade, the division had grown in fame throughout the Armed Forces; every pony that fought in a red beret was obsessed with all forms of technology. When I first arrived at the division's camp I had to physically stop myself from tearing apart every custom piece of equipment they held.

“Sweet Celestia, I’ve never seen anything like the equipment you ponies have!” I stared in wonder at the complexity of the weapons they carried, marvelled at the near beautiful armour that protected them, and fell in love with the customised vehicles that were scattered around the camp, most being worked on.

“It's something else isn’t it? Come on, I’ll introduce you to your squad,” Officer Slate was my personal guide through the division, though I believed my father was the main reason behind his kind behaviour. As his outburst on the chariot to Camp Torntail proved, he was capable of extreme anger. Anger that hadn't appeared since I told him who I was.

We continued walking, numerous ponies saluting Slate and muttering towards me. I swallowed hard, I was the new foal in town and these ponies were not going to let me forget that. After what felt like a year of stop-start walking, we arrived at a workshop not dissimilar to my family's chariot repair shop. Inside, a green pair of hind legs lay under a four legged machine while a large speckled grey unicorn stallion stood welding armour plating to the contraption.

The mechanical beast stood at least two ponies high, and had four legs similar to those of a spider. Two mini-guns rested atop the cockpit, which was protected with reinforced glass. The cockpit itself housed four panels on the floor, several levers and a firing mechanism. Wires, hydraulics, coils and cogs all lay bare to the world, save for one side which was fitted with metal plates several inches thick, a seam of previously molten metal running between them. The beast was branded with the golden sun of the Equestrian flag and the word “Spyder” across the plates.

“Squad one, fall in!” Slate barked, and I found myself standing to attention without meaning to; Hartpony was a damn good drill sergeant. A hiss from the bulky unicorn's horn sounded as the welding magic was stopped, his mask floating off as he walked to position and stood at attention. His blackened work apron held several ribbons and medals, though significantly fewer than Slate's decorated jacket.

This was followed by a rustle and some grunting as the green legs became a green unicorn, a red beret over his horn and a pair of goggles around his neck. The goggles looked like something from a foal’s fantasy novel, covered in dials and wires and sporting a large slot on one side. One lens had a telescopic feature, the other was near black in colour, yet each had several wires linked into it.

“Gentlecolts, may I introduce our newest member; Private Rivet Bolt. He's only just graduated from Torntail, but he's already shown promise.”

I blushed a little at the praise, even my own father hadn't praised me in such a way when I was a colt; he was always pushing me forward, driving me to do better than before. It was worth it in the end, but the compliment made my heart soar, 'somepony actually thinks well of me!'

“... you serious sir?! This colt's Hammer's replacement?” my confidence was crushed in an instant as the two unicorns studied me coldly, “He's too young to fight, let alone be in first squad! Has he even had real battle experience?”

“Sir, would the fact he's Wrench's boy have anything t'do with it? I know ye take the blame for him and all but sir, ye have to move on...” the green unicorn spoke this time, and my fears were all but confirmed.

It had been nagging me for ages, but I had brushed the thought away. I could see why Slate wanted me in his squad all along now. It was so he could protect me. I gritted my teeth at the thought, feeling betrayed. I was sure that he was using me to satisfy his own misery and to comfort himself.

“I'm afraid you're wrong there Gadget. Rivet here may be Wrench's boy, but that's not why he's fighting with us. No, he's here because he's the best Torntail produced, and I get the feeling he'll suit my squad just fine,” Slate stood his ground and smiled, placing all his confidence in me.

Gadget snorted in response, “Would it be rude t'ask for some proof 'fore I start taking yer word as gospel, sir?”

'That insubordinate little shit!' I heard Hartpony yell in my head, which forced a smile. I snapped out of my mind's wanderings when Slate pushed me towards the mechanical demon, urging me to study it.

I began to look over the machinery, feeling the urge to tear it apart rising as I gazed in wonder at the complexity and beauty it held. I ran a hoof along one of the hydraulics, feeling the cool metal and smiling a little; I was finally back in my element.

“OK Private Bolt, tell me what's wrong with it,” Slate instructed, watching me intently as I explored every nook and cranny the machine had to offer. I crawled underneath the belly of the beast, and met face to face with an open panel.

“Sir, I must protest! He's never even seen the blueprints, how can he be expected to find something wrong with technology years ahead of what the public's allowed to see?!” the larger unicorn spoke this time, a sense of urgency and panic in his voice as if I were holding his only child.

“Just wait and see Private Hefty, his talent is something I haven't seen in years.”

“And just what is his talent, sir?”

“Understanding.”

A burst of laughter from Gadget further increased my animosity for him; he was an arrogant prick through and through.

“Sir, this is ridiculous! Just because ye understand how t'pull a chariot, it doesn't mean that ye know how t'build one!”

I grinned; 'If only he knew'. I pulled some wires to one side, and found a fatal flaw in the design. Beaming, I tugged and pulled the issue out, my hoofs covered in oil and other fluids as I wriggled out, much to the dismay of Gadget and Hefty.

“Gems can be easily broken by a well placed bullet or explosion. If the whole machine is relying on one, then it's doomed from the start.” I stood up, confident with my discovery only to have my new comrades shake their heads.

“We know that! It's the only way t'power her with only one unicorn, so we took measures t'protect it. Hence the shit load of armour and wires to reach it. Now put it back before ye pull anything else out!” Gadget pulled the gem from my hooves, crawling back underneath and placing the stone back inside the armoured hull, “Ah ye fucker! What've ye done? She's bleeding all over the place!”

The veteran engineer crawled out from the machine, covered in oil and near to tears, “Spyder's bleeding ye bastard, the fuck was that for?”

I was at a loss for words; I got something wrong! And it was a mechanical issue too. It felt like my heart was torn at the edges, my head was spinning. I began to panic, what if I had messed up on another project? What if my cockiness had killed somepony? What if they think I’m on the side of the zebras?

Slate tapped me on the head, smiling a little, “You found something else, right? Bright pony like you wouldn’t overlook something.”

I took a deep shuddering breath, and tried to compose myself. Slate had faith in me and I wasn't going to let him down, “You were using an inefficient way of pumping fluid to the legs, so I redirected the flow. Then I found the gemstone and assumed that was the issue Officer Slate was looking for.”

“Yer fucking dead if she can’t move!” Gadget yelled, almost bawling his eyes out, “Hefty, get in and see if she’s still kicking.”

Hefty then barged past me and clambered into the cockpit, placing a hoof one each panel and lighting his horn. Gears whirred into life, and the beast gave a groan as it was awoken from its slumber; the exposed gemstone shining brightly as magic was poured into it. Pistons hissed as it clambered up on all four legs, standing well over three ponies tall when straight. Hefty pulled levers and green text scrolled up on the glass, before separating into a display of figures and dials.

He tugged on another lever and a single piece of glass came down, not dissimilar from Gadget's goggles. Placing his eye to the lens, the mini-guns whirred, spinning up. Satisfied, Hefty pushed the lever back in place and the mini-guns slowed down, the lens retracting.

“She’s alive guys, nothing wrong coming up on here. Clear a path, I’m taking her for a test run,” Hefty's voice sounded through hidden speakers, as the pony leant forwards. The machine took a single shaky step, followed by another, and another. Slowly, she crept out of the workshop, the clunk and hiss of the steps attracting the attention of the nearby engineers. Soon, a small group had formed around the workshop as the vehicle took cautious steps into the world, like a newborn foal.

“Alright, let's see how we handle a light trot,” Hefty said through gritted teeth, the effort of keeping the magic flowing taking visible a toll on him. With a grunt, the machine lurched forward and began to gain speed, soon moving a little faster than an ungainly foal. Slowly but surely, Hefty managed to raise the speed to that of an average pony's trot, moving through the camp like a freakishly large spider.

Gadget's goggles then hissed static, and Hefty's voice came through, “Is it worth firing up the magic dynamos?”

Gadget floated his eye wear over his face, turning a dial which caused a microphone to drop down to his mouth, “Give me a second, just going t'patch into the heads up.”

His darkened lens then lit up with the same green display as the machine's window displayed, his eye flicking back and forth along the data, “Go for it, let's see what she can do.”

“Copy,” the machine's distant hum became softer as a quiet whine began to sound, the clunking footsteps growing louder as the speed increased to a near gallop. The mechanical spider tore along the camp, throwing mud up as it ran. Hefty's voice gave out a cheer of joy as the machine leapt over several barracks, narrowly missing another as it landed.

The spectators began stomping their hooves in appreciation, some going to Gadget and congratulating him on the display, “Finally! How long did it take you to get this bitch up and running?”

“Sweet Celestia, it actually works!”

“Fuck, alright just let me get my wallet. I swear we only agreed to ten bits.”

Hefty brought the contraption back to the workshop, slowing it down until it came to a stop in front of Slate. The bulky unicorn was haggard, sweating and breathing heavily, but smiling from ear to ear, “It's not perfect, but it's running a hell of a lot smoother than before. Give it a few more tweaks and Spyder will be combat ready in a week or two.”

This announcement caused an increase in the fervour of the platoon, several of the unicorns running to their own workshops to continue their work. Hefty and Gadget approached me, both standing to attention and saluting me, wearing massive grins on their faces.

“Welcome to the squad, buck.”


As the new member of the squad, my main duties were restricted to repair work and tune ups. It didn’t bother me that I was given all the menial and ordinary tasks; they reminded me of life before the army. Though I had only been a soldier for ten weeks, it felt like it had been years since I last smelt the oil of a chariot, felt the cool metal of the plating and messed with the intricate electronics of the transport.

Gadget and Hefty’s attitudes towards me changed from our initial meeting, both impressed with how I managed to get their project up and running. They were both veterans of the war, having served for nearly five years and seen countless battles, but they behaved like foals whenever a chance to modify something came along.

Gadget thought himself the squad’s long range and weapons expert, heavily modifying his prized rifle and goggles. He had designed Spyder’s weapon system as well as the heads up display, basing it off an arcade game from when he was a foal.

It wasn't long after the affair with Spyder that Gadget offered to modify my rifle, “To be honest with ye, the standard rifle can’t hit shit, jams up more often than they’d care to say, and has a nasty habit of slicing your tongue off if ye don't reload it right. I would say that the designer needs to be shot, but he’d come out better than his executioners with guns like these.”

“How does yours differ then?” I had seen the numerous additions to the gun, but couldn’t figure out what half of them did until I picked it up in my own hooves.

Gadget floated his weapon over to me, wires and dials covering every possible inch and a small screen rested in front of the trigger. I studied the additions closely, my smile growing. 'Celestia send me to the moon, I needed to tear this thing apart!'

Every new attachment was expertly chosen, the gun gave off an evil sheen as if Gadget wanted it to look its best before it blew the head off a zebra.

As I scanned the complexity of the weapon, my eyes were drawn to a small lens underneath the barrel, “A camera? Why do you need a camera?” As pretty a picture war paints, it seemed fairly odd to attach a camera to a gun.

Gadget snorted, “Video camera genius, and because there’s only one of me 'nd a thousand of these rifles. If it means I can peek 'round a corner without having my fucking head taken off then I’ll gladly add any attachment ta this beauty. 'Nd if it falls in the wrong hooves, ‘bout as useful as shit,” – he tapped his goggles – “ye need these 'nd unicorn magic to power the modifications, else it’s just a fucking heavy rifle.”

“Video camera?” I stood confused. I could remember when my aunt brought her camera round, showing off her holiday pictures and boring me and my brother to death, but that’s as far as my experience with the devices went.

“Shit Bolt, how backwater are ye? Here, look at the screen,” Gadget turned a dial on his goggles and trotted over to a large panel of glass, pressing a button. The glass suddenly lit up and a cascade of swirling lines appeared, dancing like the snow of Manehead.

Taking the rifle, he plugged several cables into his goggles and the gun, the screen suddenly flaring and a picture of the ceiling appeared. Gadget grunted and swivelled the gun towards me, the image changing to a greyed version of me, “Smile!”

I gave a grin at what I had seen; this was beyond anything that had ever reached Manehead. I felt privileged to be part of such a world, but also felt slightly heart broken; what would’ve happened had I left home earlier? Could I have discovered such technology if I grew up from chariots and watches?

'This war has brought me so much, at the expense of so much more...'

Gadget turned the dial and the image was gone, calling me over, “Throw some of those broken tools up, I’ll show ye what it’s supposed t'do.”

I picked up a bent wrench and flung it up, Gadget standing still and turning the rifle to fire at the target. A whine built up, ending in a load bang as the weapon fired, tearing the tool in two. The gun flew back as the recoil hit, moving at least two inches before Gadget’s magic stopped it. I winced at the power; even if a zebra took hold of the gun and fired it, they’d need a neck of iron to take the shock. At his order, I threw two more tools, each meeting the same fate, before he called for the exercise to stop. The magical whine died down, as the rifle slowly landed on the floor.

Gadget beamed at me, and floated my own rifle towards his work bench, “Just going t'fix a few things. Don’t worry, it’ll be worth it.”

I snatched the rifle out of his magic, and placed it back in the holster, “Thanks, but I’d rather work on it myself; it’s my own gun after all.”

Gadget’s smile diminished, his head hung low and he kicked his hoof, “Alrigh', you have a point. But don’t ye come crying when ye blow your own head off by mistake.”

I gave him a cheery smile, “You’ll be the first to know if I do.”


Throughout my time at the platoon’s camp, I had met numerous other ponies from all across the army. Special Operations, Medical Corps, Rangers, Infantry, Intelligence, they all depended on us to get moving. We were rooted deep into the army. As such, we rarely saw any of the other forces that protected Equestria. I assumed that this was thanks to their own Engineer Corps, until one day.

We were working within our workshop, on a new armoured chariot for one of the Ministry Mares when the ground began to tremble. I looked up at my tools, which seemed to dance off the workbench while my rifle performed a jig on the ground. I turned towards Gadget and Hefty, who both shrugged and walked outside to see the source of the commotion.

I stepped outside to join them, our manes blown as the air was whipped up into the maelstrom. Slate galloped out to greet us, his beret barely staying on his horn as he came up to the group, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?”

“I’m sorry, sir?” my voice was torn away into the wind as I noticed the looks on Gadget and Hefty’s faces. Their attention was fixed on something overhead, and both wide eyed and grinning from ear to ear. I turned my eyes to the sky, and found it replaced with a giant floating hull. My breath was snatched away by the wind, and I joined in the mad ponies’ smiles as squadrons of pegasi flew around the beast.

“Gentlecolts,” Slate stood proud as one squadron flew overhead, “pack your gear. It’s time to go to war.”

My squad mates saluted and ran inside, I shortly joined them after watching the pegasi’s display; subtlety was an unknown word to the winged ponies. I trotted inside the workshop and gathered my possessions; my father’s knife, a picture of my mother, several shirts and a somewhat distasteful picture of my Fluttershy, taken during her time as a model and probably without her permission.

'Celestia bless the determination of the paparazzi,' I thought to myself, tucking the image away for later and taking out my combat equipment.

I pulled myself into my body armour, and placed my beret onto my short black mane. I missed the length I used to have, but cutting it short made work easier and meant less time spent caring for it. That and Sunset once commented that I looked more mare-like than she did, which was a devastating blow to my stallion pride.

I stood and gazed at myself in my quarter’s mirror; my charcoal coat covered in green carapace armour at the front, my red beret over one ear; the badge polished into a gleam. I stood confident; it was easy to recognise the air of pride a solider carried as well as the weight of their past and future actions. My smile faltered; ever since I joined I had discovered so much about myself.

I was cocky and arrogant, believing that every choice I made was the correct one. That was a habit that I probably would never kick, it just came as part of being a pony that could understand anything. More than once I had been shot down by my superiors and comrades, but I was determined to become the better pony.

“Just you wait; I’ll be the grand hero. I’ll do you proud,” I spoke out loud, unsure as to whom but glad they heard anyway.

Placing my rifle into my custom holster, I hefted my saddlebags on to myself and walked out, greeted by four pegasi. A black stallion with yellow streaks in his dark grey mane stepped forward to greet Slate, Gadget, Hefty and myself, giving Slate a salute and nodding to each of us.

“Senior Airpony Clap, is that correct?” Slate returned the salute and stood as a large transport landed nearby, a panel opening and a single pegasus operator sat inside.

“Yes sir, and you’re Warrant Officer Slate? The Air Force have heard of first platoon’s prowess under your command, and I want your team to fly with us tonight,” Clap turned and beckoned us to walk towards the airship, Slate confidently leading the way while the rest of us giggled like school fillies at the thought of flight, “Luna has ordered an assault on zebra occupied territory, and the air force are part of the initial strikes. Problem is that there are too many anti-air cannons for us to employ our full force.”

“So you’re sending our squad to take down their defences?” I inquired, figuring out how that night was going to pan out.

A chuckle sounded from Airpony Clap, “Not just you guys, we've drafted in some spec op ponies for assistance and have a combat medic squad just in case.”

“I bet Colonel Midnight wasn't fond of that,” I replied, remembering the pony's hatred of pegasi and her numerous rants about the Air Force.

“A bunch of untrained colts who think flapping in will save the day. Luna knows why we have to work with the winged bastards.”

Clap laughed harder, giving a wink to a smiling Slate, “Too right my buck, too right. What’s your name soldier?”

“Bolt sir, Private Rivet Bolt.”

“Bolt?” A quizzical eyebrow was raised as Clap looked over at me, “You’re not the same Bolt that said we should just shoot the gems on these damn guns are you?”

“Yes sir, that’s me,” I replied nervously, expecting the worst from admitting such a theory.

“By Celestia, did you know you had such a brainy buck in your squad Officer? It's a one in a million shot, but it's saved my flank,” the Airpony turned and winked at me, before boarding the airship.

“Thank you sir, I didn’t know it actually worked,” I felt slightly sheepish at the praise, filled with pride that my theory worked yet embarrassed at how much my name had spread. We stepped onto the metal plates, the pegasi pilot nodding at us and taking off alongside the squadron.

“Drop the formality soldier; we might die tonight so why not at least pretend we’re friendly? Thunder Clap,” the pegasus extended his hoof, shaking mine firmly as I returned the gesture, “You ready for this buck?”

I nodded, trying my best not to let the fear appear in my eyes, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”