Fallout: Equestria - Empty Quiver

by thefurryrailfan

Complications

-----

I leaned up as I heard a knock on the door, my mind cloudy from the sedatives Pressure Cooker had pumped into me. The door opened with a creak downstairs, Pressure Cooker inviting whoever was knocking in. I rolled off of the bed, wincing a little as my injured leg hit the floor - oh, that's gonna hurt for a while, isn't it? I wandered groggily to the door where I heard Night Strike’s voice, mentioning something about our little half-track. I trotted through the doorway and down teh short hall, rubbing my head a bit. “What was that about the mini-tank? Nnfh...” I carefully moved down the stairs, Aerith assisting my descent with some magical support. “Bwuh, I'm starting to regret you talking me into taking those painkillers...” I said, giving my head a little shake. “Anyways, um, yeah, mini-tank, what's the deal?”

“You took a rifle bullet to the hoof without losing consciousness, you can suck it up.” Pressure Cooker playfully chastised me. I rolled my eyes and trotted over to the couch, flopping down onto it and staring at the mess of machinery on the floor before me. Sheesh, it’s like Greasy’s workshop all over again... Crash Dive tossed my saddlebags onto the floor in front of me, my umbrella sticking out of one of the bag covers. I slid the concealed electrical prod out, looking it over for any damage as the others continued talking. Well, at least those thieves didn’t manage to break this. I wonder if Greasy ever did notice this thing is missing...

I looked back over as the door shut, leaving me alone with Crash Dive and Pressure Cooker. After a quick moment of rummaging in her kitchen, Pressure Cooker came back to the living room and handed off a small tin to Crash Dive, the power armored pegasus letting out a sigh as she gave her shoulder another tap. Pressure Cooker trotted herself over to a coatrack, pulling a large poncho off of it and sipping it over herself. “Ahm, uh, anyways, wanna help me look over your tank thing? A small engine repair's usually no big deal, but having somepony else to help wouldn’t hurt.” I nodded, though she grimaced as I stood up. “Eeh, here, you better take the boots. We don’t want those bandages to get wet.” She tossed me some oversized rubber boots, flipping up the hood of her coat. I slipped on the boots and grabbed the umbrella, walking over to Pressure Cooker at the door.

Glancing back to Crash Dive, I shifted my weight a little to avoid putting too much pressure on my hoof. “You coming out too?” I asked. She grimaced a little underneath her armor's visor, looking uneasily towards Pressure Cooker, but stood up anyway, flipping on her helmet’s light. The earth pony mare swung the door open, the wind howling by as we all stepped onto the porch. I took a moment to fiddle with a small latch underneath the rubber of my umbrella - come on, this thing has to still work as a normal umbrella, too... I jumped a little in surprise as the umbrella popped open suddenly. The rain pattered onto the material as I stepped out into the pouring rain, leading Crash Dive and Pressure Cooker over to the small tank.

I removed a latch on the side of the tank, allowing a panel to be slid over to reveal the engine. I held my umbrella at a slight angle to try and keep the rain out of the compartment as Pressure Cooker stepped up to investigate it. I peered in to look at the engine as well, trying to spot what the issue might have been. I shivered a little as my tail hung heavily, a stream of water flowing off of it - oh, what I would give for a set of Crash Dive’s fancy waterproof armor. Hell, I'd take Minty's big heavy cloak and jacket, at least that'd keep my rump dry... Pressure Cooker leaned against the side of the small half-tank, reaching in to work with some of the metal. “I think some of the gears might've been misaligned, see?” She pointed out some of the inner workings, the teeth of several parts twisted out of the clean fit at which they were meant to sit.

She went to work trying to force the gears back into place, grunting with the effort. “Those thieves certainly weren’t careful when it came to gear shifts.” I winced at the sound of the screeching metal, a sudden snap and clatter making my stomach drop. “Shit.” Pressure Cooker muttered, a loose gear having fallen down further into the guts of the machine. She turned to me. “Think you could run back in for my toolbox? It should be sitting right next to the machinery in the foyer.”

“Ahm... oh, we’ve got a toolbox and a couple spare parts here with it, actually.” Crash Dive climbed onto the tank, reaching down into the small trunk and lift out the large toolbox inside. Pressure Cooker flipped open the toolbox and dug around for a moment before pulling out a long hooked wire with a magnet at the end. She slid the wire down into the mini tank, grasping about in an attempt to hook the fallen gear on.

“Buh, one of those days where I wish I were a unicorn...” She mumbled before drawing the wire up and removing the gear from it. She reached into the toolbox again, grabbing a large wrench before leaning back into the tank. After some loud clanging and some choice curse words, Pressure Cooker leaned back out, her face and coat a little oily, though the pouring rain quickly took care of that problem. “Alright, I think I’ve got the gears back into place now. It still wouldn’t hurt to have a look at it later, but I don’t want to stay out in this storm much longer. Hope your friends aren't running into much trouble.” As if on cue, a bright light flashed overheard, quickly followed by a low rumble.

Crash Dive placed the toolbox back inside a box on the side of the mini-tank as I slid the engine’s panel shut and secured the latches. We trotted back to the door, our hooves splashing in the small river formed from the rain washing out of the gutter. I shook my umbrella as I closed it, trying to get as much water off as I could before stepping inside. My boots squished on the carpet a little as I took them off, Pressure Cooker hanging her oversized coat back up.

I rubbed my hoof as I sat back onto the couch, Crash Dive doing the same. “Hey, you don’t happen to still have a little Med-X, do you? I think that first vial is starting to wear off..." Pressure Cooker leaned down to inspect the bandages, which were now damp from blood and the rain. She stepped over to her doctor’s bag resting by the door, pulling a fresh roll of bandages out.

“I think the dressings just need to be changed. Is it more of an itch than actual pain?” I nodded, still rubbing my cast. She began to unwind the bandages, a sickly odor emanating from them. Ech, yeah, this is why I’m not a doctor. She threw the bandages in an orange bag before wiping down the wound and starting to wrap up my leg again. “And, no, I don’t have much left and I need to save what little I have.” She glanced over to Crash Dive for a second before going back to my bandages. “I make a monthly delivery up north, and I try to get as much as I can for that.”

Crash Dive shifted a little as Pressure Cooker tied the end of the bandages, tucking them between some of the folds. “Well, where do you normally deliver them? We could probably drive you there, if you’d like.” Pressure Cooker gnawed at her lip slightly before shaking her head, placing the rest of the roll of bandages into her medical bag and carrying it back to the door.

“Oh, no, that’s fine, it’s really not that far. It’s just a... house call, to drop off some supplies, it’s nothing to rush for.” She paused for a moment, standing around slightly awkwardly. “How about I make us something to eat while we wait for the others?” She trotted down the hall and into the kitchen, leaving Crash Dive and me in the room.

Crash Dive stared at the doorway for a while, her face hidden behind her helmet. I looked over to her and she turned her head towards me. “Static, don’t offer her to come with us again. Hard enough dealing with four other ponies right now.” I looked confused, but she simply stood up and walked over to the door, fitting on her armor's water-tight mask. “I’ll be outside. Need... need to think about something.” Her voice crackled through the speaker of her helmet, her head only slightly looking at myself. She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, the patter of the rain muted as she slowly closed the door behind her. Letting off a small sigh of my own, I sat back against the cushions of the couch, looking down at my Pip-Buck. Wonder what's on Radio KAOS...

"Welcome back, you're listening to Radio KAOS, and from the looks of things outside I'm very glad that my studio is inside a waterproof ship, heh. Hang in there Vanhoover, it's going to get worse before it gets better..."

---

I tossed Night Strike’s duffle bag along with my own saddlebags into our room back at the lighthouse, now able to walk more steadily with the newer bandages she’d managed to find. I checked my Pip-Buck for the time as I scratched my bandaged hoof - eleven already? Not even tired... sheesh, those sedatives must’ve really screwed with my sleep schedule. Trotting back out into the kitchen, I slid into one of the benches, giving my back a long stretch. Aerith trotted out from the hallway and sat herself down across from me, a regular sparkle-cola held in her magic. 'How’s your leg doing?'

“Alright, still a little sore, but it should be fine in a couple days, I hope.” I glanced out the window, seeing Night Strike and Crash Dive sitting on the grass near the seaside cliff, the moonlight shimmering off of the high tide. Sheesh, if it weren't for the armor and the glowing bottle of soda, almost can't see eitehr of them at night... Releasing a small sigh and leaning abck in the booth, I began flipping a bottle cap in the air aimlessly, understandably bored. A short while later, though, I suddenly heard a loud crackle like thunder, a bright flash of light coming from outside.

I dropped the cap in surprise, its clatter to the floor sounding much quieter after the sudden blast from outside. Aerith and I leaned forward to look through the window, both of us scanning the coastline. That couldn’t have been lightning, could it? The blast was too close… there’s no rain… I couldn’t see far beyond the window, and Aerith looked equally confused and concerned. I pushed the chair away from the table and began to head for the door outside when the sound of metal grinding and the crackling of something else exploding met my ears. A loud crash and the crumble of metal followed, quickly dissipating to leave nothing but the sound of a crackling, vicious fire.

I burst through the door, seeing Crash Dive and Night Strike standing in front of a large pile of metal on fire, Night Strike seeming to hold her shoulder. I ran over towards them, Aerith following me closely behind. “What the hell happened!?” I asked, suddenly aware of the aching pain in my leg after leaping from the chair. Crash Dive and Night Strike turned to me, both looking unsure of what to say.

“Uh… well, let’s just say we really should be getting the Valkyrie up and running faster than we’re doing it right now.” Night Strike said, releasing a dry chuckle. I sighed, more than a little annoyed. Starting to lose my appreciation for jokes after these past few days, Strikey. She gave an uncomfortable cough before continuing. “Look, somepony just decided to try and shoot up this place with one of those things that was missing from Seahoof, and we don’t know for sure much more than that, alright?” Night Strike said, a power armored unicorn eventually meeting up with us and looking over the carnage.

“Hell... how many o' those things did you say were missin' from Seahoof?” Scouring asked, looking at the flaming wreck. I shared an uneasy glance with Night Strike, the pegasus wearing a grimace as she gnawed on her lip. Well... on the bright side, there's only three of these things left flying around now. And they seem to be easily killed by rebar, too, since Night Strike's grenade rifle was still back at the house... shit...

Crash Dive cleared her throat, looking between us all and still trying to collect herself. She looked back towards the wreck, letting off a small huff. “More than one. If they made it this far without getting shot down, wouldn't hurt to have somepony watching the skies during the night... I’ll take the first shift. I’m probably not going to get much sleep after this, anyways.” Giving one last look back to the flaming wreck, the power armored pegasus stiffened herself, her rebar cannon letting off a small ca-chunk and loading another bolt in the chamber. I glanced between the others, all of us a little unsure of what to do. I stepped towards Crash Dive, about to offer to stay up as well, but she spoke up before I could. “No, you need your sleep most of all, or you’ll be dragging that hoof for another week.”

I stopped, sighing a little - that's a good point. Aerith trotted herself over to Crash Dive, wearing a small grin and sitting beside her, her machine gun and rifle appearing out of thin air... oh, right, invisibility spell. Man, that's good. 'I never seemed to sleep well anyway, I’ll be fine.' Night Strike, Scouring Charge, and myself all shared an uneasy glance before heading back over the small landbridge and into the Lighthouse, myself glancing over up at the starry night sky nervously. After a short moment, I made my way over to mine and Night Strike's bedroom, Scouring charge having disappeared up the iron stairwell leading up the lighthouse tower and to his bedroom.

I turned to Night Strike, closing the door behind me. “Night Strike… is there something else Crash Dive knows about this? She seemed… off.” Night Strike sat down onto her bed, metting my eyes and chewing on her lip again. After a moment, she released a little sigh, looking somewhat unnerved.

“Ah, well…” She paused, trying to find the best way to say what was on her mind. “Crash Dive thinks she knew the pony that was flying that thing. She thinks it was one of her old squad when she was with the Enclave.” I widened my eyes, screwing my face up into an expression of confusion.

“Wait… I thought all of her squadron was killed off, before she lost-” I cut myself off, still a little uncomfortable bringing the situation back up. Myself letting off a small cough, Night Strike answered me with a small sigh. She shifted a little on the bed before swinging her hind legs up onto the sheets, leaning against the headboard.

“I don't know… maybe she just got them confused. I mean, I really couldn’t get a good look into the cockpit... not that I could even tell one of her old squad from 'cunt who wants to kill us' number twenty-seven, for that matter.” She pulled the thin sheets up over herself, rolling over onto her side. "We'll... we'll handle it in the morning. We should probably get some sleep." I climbed onto the small cot besides Night Strike, laying my head down on the worn pillow. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to clear my mind. I could still faintly hear the sound of the burning wreck dying down outside, faint thumps and creaks coming from it as it kept burning. I closed my eyes, letting out a sigh - One day, just one day I’d like to have without anyone trying to kill us...

---

We sped along the countryside, Aerith’s head bobbing as she tried to keep herself awake. Crash Dive sat stoically in the trailer alongside Scouring, her helmet hiding any signs of possible exhaustion. Night Strike sat at Boomer’s controls, watching the trails of flattened grass the mini tank made as I steered it down the road. I bounced my bandaged leg a bit, trying to keep the circulation flowing as the magic wrappings slowly stitched together my skin and muscle fibers. Sleeping with it on at least helped a lot... good thing we made it through Maple Creek early enough to not get stopped. Don't want to lose that hoof just because Sulfur wanted to ask questions.

“Ah, our breaking news today is the report of a loud explosion somewhere nearby the old lighthouse on the coast. Makes me wish my sleep schedule wasn't as FUBAR as it is, could've had my own eyewitness account... ah, uh, anyways, out of Maple Creek, it's been speculated that it may have been another air craft that either crashed in from up north or somehow made it past the spotters and gunners. From what we here at Radio KAOS understand, it crashed farther south than the Empty Quiver craft, but if anypony's going to try and get more information about it, please be careful. Wouldn't be the first time somepony's been lost there, the last one should've been the last.” The DJ of Radio KAOS came over Night Strike’s Pip-Buck, the pegasus wearing a grimace and flipping her radio off. We pulled up to the edge of Hopeville, a few ponies looking nervously at us as I drove down the road, faintly recognizing the shapes of some of the machine guns we'd sold to them.

As I drove into the town proper, a pony in a lab coat rushed up to the tank, flailing his hooves in the air and forcing me to stop in the road. He panted, trying to catch his breath and leaning against the small half-track. “Whew... Ah, it’s good to see you guys back here. Emerald’s hoping you might be able to stop by the Triage. She thinks she found something that you guys might find useful.” Night Strike perked up a little at this. Oh, please tell me Emerald didn’t find us another giant gun thing, we’ve got enough that Night Strike might blow up in our faces already.

Still, I thanked him and began to drive us towards the Triage. I spotted a few of the guns we’d brought in mounted atop some of the buildings, a couple ponies sitting at their mounts, one group playing cards and occasionally glancing up at the sky. I wheeled around a corner, pulling up to the front of the large building the Triage was stationed in. It appeared to have been partly renovated since our last visit, with many more functional lights surrounding its exterior and a few fewer shattered windows.

We trotted into the lobby, one of the ponies sitting at the large circular desk waving to us. A small filly gasped excitedly upon seeing us trot through, causing me to blush a little as she tried to get her dad’s attention. The sound of heart monitors and various other medical equipment met our ears as we stepped into the hallway, making our way down to Emerald’s workshop. She looked up as we entered the room, setting aside her tools and a pushing away the stretcher she had been working on.

“Ah, I’m glad you were able to get here so soon.” She said, turning around and pulling something out of her desk. She pushed aside some paperwork and placed the metal object down, letting us gather around to look at it. “One of our technicians found this when we were inspecting the dam, we're not sure where it came from but it's pre-war Equestrian military, maybe you’ll be able to find some use for it. We know for sure it isn't medical supplies, and they said it was probably some kind of ammunition or something.”

I looked a little confused, handing the tubular tin object over to Night Strike. “We haven’t tried opening it, mind you. The engineers just seemed a little… nervous, with it.” Scouring Charge gave the pegasus a small tap on her shoulder, her giving it to him, the unicorn taking to turning it about in his magic. As he did, he began schuckling through his helmet's voicebox, the smile crossing his muzzle apparent in his words.

“Ooh, I’m going t' have fun with this. Thermobaric rockets, lot more dangerous bang fer your buck but a little more finicky." The steel ranger let off a chuckle as he slipped the canister of rockets into a box on the side of his armor, Emerald more than a little surprised, but mostly looking relieved. Night Strike grinned widely as she let out a small giggle - great, more stuff for us to eventually wind up blown up by. Well, at least it's not in the hooves of that crazy pegasus...

"Well, um, thank you for taking it out of our hooves. We'll be sure to let you handle whatever else we might find there, with any luck this was the only oddity." Giving her a small nod, we all turned and started to head out of the work area, the handymare getting back to her work. As we reached the door, though, she cleared her throat. "Ah, oh, right, one more thing. A few of the ponies we have at the dam say they've been seeing these strange creatures at night. You wouldn't happen to have any idea as to what they are, would you?" Oh no, don't tell me they were seeing -those- creatures...

"Uhm...yes, uh, actually. When we got the dam restarted, we had to clear the turbine intakes with some explosives. They were gunked up with these big eggs... we're not sure what they are either, just that they're big, tough, nasty, and take explosives or big armor-piercing bullets to kill." Night Strike trotted forth, giving a small glance back towards myself. Emerald was, understandably, both terrified, surprised, and in disbelief. "If you can, I'd get one of the big autocannons set up at the dam, just in case. We're going back to Seahoof today, if we find another one for you we'll give you it to protect the Dam." Oh, that stung me a little. Strikey, these ponies are very well off, they can probably afford to pay for their big guns...

"I-if you wouldn't mind, of course. Thank you... goddesses..." Emerald slumped back in her chair as we made our way back out, myself giving Night Strike a small glare as we all shuffled back onto the cart. Oofh, probably should get some new bandages on that hoof... suck it up, we can probably raid something from Seahoof's med bay still. Speaking of...

"Could I just ask why we're going back to Seahoof for a third time?" The little motor of the half-track revved as we trundled along, myself navigating us past the gunsmith and onto the roads heading south, out of the town. Night Strike answered me with a small huff and facehoof, giving a shake of her head.

"Because we still need to get a generator to fix the Valkyrie, remember? Still have to at least search the hangar that the ants blew up." Oh, right... that...

-----

"If we come back here again, I'm gonna slap somepony. Twice we've looked, and we still haven't found a generator." Static grumbled as we passed through the gates of the perimeter of Seahoof,the roads curiously devoid of robots this time around. The small engine purred underneath me as I adjusted myself on the back of the half-track, one hoof resting near Boomer's trigger grip. Letting out a small huff, I scanned about for a moment, before leaning forwards and giving Static a small whap on his shoulder.

"First time we were interrupted by exploding ants, and second time we kind of had more to worry about at the time. You sure you didn't see a generator in that storage room we found those engines in?" The earth pony glanced back at myself, first in a bit of annoyance but then a quiet huff of defeat. We reached the hangars once more, a faded, cracked line leading towards the missing wall of the one the ants came out of. Pulling up alongside the pile of rubble, Static shut off the mini-tank, letting out a small huff and looking down at his bandaged hoof. Crash Dive and Scouring both hopped off of the back wagon, Aerith setting herself down beside us, myself scooching up to the front near him. "You think you'll be good to walk through that stuff with that hole in your leg?"

"Ah... maybe I should sit this one out in the mini-tank. With how much those ants exploded, I kinda don't want to risk exploding too, heh..." He let off a small chuckle, myself passing on an eyeroll and checking Thumper's breech. Buckshot, yeah, that'll probably be safer than high explosive or dragon's breath, if we run into any other big bugs... closing it with a snap, Static drew in a sharp breath, leaning over to rub at his bandaged leg. Fitting Thumper on my back, I leaned over his shoulder, a small frown taking to my muzzle. Maybe we should take a break from running around, at least until that hole heals up... His eyes caught mine, the earth pony leaning back and looking at myself, letting out a weak chuckle. "I'm fine, Night Strike. Go play with your explosives, or whatever."

"If you say so. You know to squeal like a mare if anything happens to you, right?" Putting on a smile and sticking my tongue out at him, he let out a small sigh, myself hopping off of the back of the mini-tank and trotting over to the hangar. This one seemed to have two big thick-walled bunkers inside of it, both of them seeming to have survived the fact that they were pretty much bracketing a column of exploding ants quite well. Scouring, Aerith, and Crash Dive all were scaling the pile of rubble, the alicorn landing herself atop one of the bunkers and surveying the hangar. I set myself down on the rubble pile, looking between Crash Dive and Scouring. "Think it's too much to hope that the generator we're looking for was stored in one of these two things?"

"Doubtful at best, I'd think. These seem like they're meant for safely storing big ammo, like whatever that huge gun in the other hangar shoots." The rubble pile collapsed slightly as Crash Dive made her way down it, trotting inbetween the pair of bunkers. The scorch marks were very apparent where the ants were lined up and exploded, some being on the slanted walls of the bunkers, even - miracle they didn't set anything inside off. Aerith hovered herself by the far wall, Scouring trying to dig out one of the bunker doors from the rubble. The power-armored pegasus paused for a moment, looking at one of the bunkers and scaling up it's slanted wall to the top. "First time we were in here, the ants cornered us down one of these hallways between these things. Lot more seemed to come from the back than the front..."

"Well, maybe we'll find something here that's good for getting rid of a whole colony of ants... without detonating them." Okay, might be a little tougher than I thought. Stupid ants, cordite isn't food. And neither is gunpowder... or C4, or Amatol, or Torpex. You just shouldn't eat explosives, basically, probably isn't good for you. Pff, sure would give some meaning to 'explosive diarrhea' though... The cracked and somewhat cratered back floor of the hangar gave plenty reason to show us where the bug-killer needs to go, complete with a big-ass mound of dirt that seemed to have a hole big enough for a pony going through it. "Guess we know where to put the ant-killer stuff, if we can find something that'd work."

"If that water tank outside weren't completely rusted through, could've tried and flooded them out. Burning up the oxygen in the tunnels might do something too, but I'm not sure how we might do that without risking setting off the whole colony." The power-armored pegasus trotted over to the mound and peered down inside, thinking for a moment. Hovering over beside her, I let out a small sigh - the one time where being able and within all reason to drop a big bomb somewhere, and we can't do it because it'd make other stuff explode. Great. Setting myself down on the back of an explosion and rebar-destroyed piece of equipment parked at the back of one of the bunkers, I leaned back against the thick concrete wall behind me, glancing about. Well, on the upside, at least we killed off most of the soldier ants the first time we were here, I guess... wait, does that sign say?...

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Hopping off the back of the destroyed piece of hardware, a grimace was on my face as I kept looking forwards at the metal plate sign across from me. Setting myself down on the ground, I fell to my haunches and firmly smacked a forehoof to my forehead, the sound of Crash Dive trotting over meeting my ears. I let out a defeated sigh, slumping backwards against the decayed and destroyed rubber wheel that once allowed the equally destroyed piece of equipment to be easily transportable, limply pointing the hoof that wasn't rubbing against my face up at the panel. Stuff a tank shell in my ass and mount me in a turret. "Well... found the generators."

"Oh... sorry." Crash Dive wore a strong grimace as she looked over the carnage of what once were miniature reactors and steam turbines, the twisted sections of rebar prominent where they stuck out of the bits that weren't wrecked by explosions. Myself releasing a long groan and rubbing at the sides of my head, I stared up at the tall ceiling of the hangar, the sound of Scouring digging out rubble filling the air. Looking over the wrecks of generators, Crash Dive chewed on her lip, then let out a soft sigh. "We, um, we didn't see them when we first came in here. Kind of were more occupied by the swarms of pony-sized ants that were coming out from everywhere they could..."

Releasing a small huff, I picked myself back up, passing the power armored pegasus a nod. Jericho Beach, written off, Seahoof, this was the last hangar... we're gonna have to find the Vanhoover Air Base now. Oh, Tia above, please let that place not be a big irradiated hole in the ground... a clattering of shattered concrete and creaking of a steel door's hinge filled the air, the steel ranger letting off a laugh of success. "Ay, finally! Heh... Night Strike? You'll wan' tah see this..."

Hovering over and landing beside Scouring, he passed a quick glance before looking back into the storage bunker, myself following his gaze. Oh, sweet mother of Celestia and Luna above, you're too good to us. The oblong shapes became clearer as I flicked a switch on the wall, light filling the ammunition bunker and revealing the unmistakible forms of really big bloody bombs. Well, that's a good enough excuse as any to have those ridiculously thick walls on this place. Trotting inside, I happily moved over to the first loaded rack, letting out a stupid giggle and reading over the words on the surface of the bomb. "'900kg Mark 15C Thermobaric Bomb, Royal Equestrian Airborne Support. Handle with care.' Oooh, this is a bigger version of your new rockets... Okay, yeah, we're going to be taking these."

"Ah... not what I was meanin', lass. The first rack's empty." Scouring's frown did get me to divert my attention away from the full rack of four fun bombs and to the emptied rack next to it. Okay... maybe they hadn't finished loading everything here when the bombs fell, maybe? Or, well, this place is an ammo store, maybe they were using them. That wide-eyed look of worry that shot across Scouring's face just then didn't help. "There wasn't a lock on the door. Ahm, first time we were here, before we got met with a swarm of ants, saw the other bunkers still had locks on. This was the only one without any..." ...okay, so probably were taken post-war. Oh, joy. "How much did ye say those bombs weighed?"

"Nine hundred kilos each, wh-... oh, fuck me with a tank shell." Math time with Strikey! One rack of the Mark 15C Thermobaric Bombs contains 8 bombs, 4 either side. Now, if the XF/A-1 Harrier has a payload capacity of 2,000 kilograms, and it's 900 kilograms per each bomb, and there were four of the Harriers and eight of the bombs missing, what's the likelyhood of whoever stole the Harriers also stole these bombs? Solve for 'How fucked we are'. Well, on the upside, we have a very legitimate reason for taking these now. "We need to get the rest of the bombs and get out of here."

Answering me with a nod, the unicorn passed by myself as I stepped back outside, Aerith and Crash Dive waiting on the rubble pile. Aerith followed Scouring inside the ammo bunker, to help him get the bombs out, I'd guess, while the power armored pegasus watched on. Standing beside her, I looked back to the bunker, watching as the first empty rack was lifted out in Scouring's magic and dropped outside, the second one being carefully removed by Aerith. Those were some pretty bloody huge bombs, and unlike a megaspell the conventional stuff would've easily detonated when she shot down that first plane... "There weren't any bombs on the Harrier that attacked us."

"That's what worries me." The first rack of bombs came out, Aerith carefully seeing to setting them down outside the hangar before ducking back inside. The power armored pegasus beside me watched on for a moment, before letting out a small huff. "Go see if you can't make some room for these things in the cart. I ned to check something." Passing her a light nod and looking over towards the first rack of bombs, I hovered myself past them and to the mini-tank, Static scratching at his head in confusion, and distinct worry.

"Please tell me we aren't taking those. Aren't four megaspells enough explosives for you?" Wearing a weak smile, I gave him a small shake of the head, hopping up into the back of the wagon behind the half-track. Well, gonna be cramped, but without all of the guns from before we should be able to fit them on here... I just hope the suspension can handle the weight. Hell, I hope that the thing's engine can handle the weight... "...we are taking them, aren't we. I'll never understand why you love explosives so much."

"I think it's hereditary." Letting out a small chuckle, I shuffled a few of the steampipe guns about, leaning them upright against the back. Probably should've unloaded these things when we were at the lighthouse... eh, better to have 'em, Hopeville might want more guns after that Harrier crash comes to the news again. Looking back to the bombs, the second rack was out, myself gnawing on my lip. Nine hundred times eighteen, equals a helluva lotta boom, but also about fifteen tons. "Shit... ah, we might want to take the trip back home in the lowest gear that thing has. This is gonna weigh a lot..."

"So, why don't we just leave them here, then? If it's heavy and not easily sellable, why bother with it?" Ah, Static, still with bottlecaps for eyes. Answering him with a shake of the head, a small commotion came from inside the bunker, drawing our attention. A moment later, and we were both treated to the sight of all three of them carefully removing a smaller, different-shaped bomb from the bunker. Oh, this can't be good. Static facehoofed, letting off a small groan. "Please tell me we're not taking that one, too."

"I... no, I don't think we'll be. We're taking the thermobaric ones just so other people can't, I don't recognize that one." With how carefully Scouring was looking over the new bomb, and how Crash Dive was refitting her rebreather and helmet, I'm willing to take a bet that this one isn't of the conventional variety. Aerith gingerly set it down on the tarmac for Scouring to better examine, quickly rushing over to the both of us wide-eyed.

'Apparently there are chemical bombs in there too. Scouring and Crash Dive are trying to come up with a way to get rid of them safely.' Chemical weapons. Great. So that's... um... what's the usual stuff in chemical weapons? Must be some kind of airborne stuff, or they wouldn't have put their masks on. Hopping out of the cart, I hovered myself over to them both, Aerith following behind close. Sure looked a lot more like a compressed gas tank somepony welded fins and a box tail onto than a bomb. Crash Dive ran to meet us, keeping us a few feet away from the bomb.

"You wouldn't happen to know how to defuse a bomb, would you?" Answering her in the negative, she seemed to fidget on her hooves, looking back at Scouring and the canister. "We only pulled out the one, there are at least seven more of those things in there. Chlorine Gas, the stuff sinks and causes all kinds of stuff to go wrong when inhaled or exposed to skin. It's a miracle that whoever took the first rack didn't take any of these things, we just don't know how to get rid of them." Yeah, I think dying in a big explosion is less agonizing than whatever that stuff would do to somepony. Suppose it's also a good thing that nopony sane lives here in the floodplain, if any of these did go off... hm...

"You said this stuff sinks, right?"

---

The mini-tank's engine roared in protest as it hauled the loaded wagon up the roads leading away from Seahoof, myself looking back towards it and just about able to see the tops of the hangars from here. It was starting to push into the evening as we were just able to crest a hill, Static bringing the mini-tank to a stop and looking back at the engine deck with worry on his face. Scouring glanced back at us from his position just behind the bombs at the back of the cart, a detonator appearing beside him in his magic before all eyes turned to look at Seahoof. Hope this works... "Well... here goes."

The detonator made a small click, and down in Seahoof eight bricks of C4 recieved the radio signal, the blasting plugs igniting and setting off the plastic explosives. The sound of the wind filled our ears for the moment, before a greenish-yellow haze erupted from the partly-destroyed hangar, lingering in the valley. Scouring let off a sigh, re-stowing the detonator and passing along a nod. "Nopony's goin' to be usin' Seahoof fer a good long while. No more ants to worry over, though..."

"Well, it's something." Shrugging, I leaned up against Boomer with Thumper in my lap, watching the gas cloud settling. Static shook his head and gave the mini-tank's engine a rev, us starting to move again... for a few feet, anyways, before a small flock of black-armored gryphons came crashing out of the sky. Oh joy, what fresh tartarus is this... "Uh... can we help you?"

"Yeah... yeah, I think you can. We're looking for a bunch of ponies, five of them, and their fancy-ass half-track. Gotta make a... deposit, to all of them." ...I might not be the biggest bomb in the bunch, but even I know this is not going to end particularly well. They haven't pointed guns at us yet, though, so there's that. "See, we're the people that get called when somepony's got a thorn in their side that needs to be taken care of, and you five are apparently being quite a huge thorn to our current employers. We'll promise we won't make it any harder than it has to-hrrmfh!"

We all blunk in surprise as one of the other gryphons slammed the first one's face into the ground, letting out an annoyed grunt. "Don't mind him, he's an idiot. We're mercs, you've got quite a sizable price on your heads, and we're here to kill you. Got it?" Short, blunt, and sweet, she's nice. We all glanced between each other, Static looking just about ready to hide himself in the armored driver's seat as Crash Dive's helmet got that look again. After a moment, the gryphon pulled back the hammers of a short 12-gauge twin-barrel in her talons, wearing a grin. "Good! We can get sta-"

War Crime let out a loud five-round retort beside me as one of the larger gryphons behind the one with the shotgun seemed to just explode into red mist, myself bringing Thumper about to deposit a load of shotshell into one of the other gryphon's wings, shredding it quite completely. Aerith's submachine gun retorted alongside Crash Dive's rebar canon, finishing off the rest of the one-winged gryphon as Sunburst came out and settled on the shotgun gryphon, the expression on her face being one synonymous with the one you'd have if a hellhound suddenly came around the corner. The gryphon whose beak was buried in the mud had enough time after getting himself out to catch the sight of five gun barrels pointing straight at his head, the shotgun gryphon dropping her weapon in a stunned silence.

"Y-yanno, eheh, a-ah, we're not really bad, we're... fuck me... yanno what, fuck it, they're not paying us enough for this shit!" Grabbing hold of the mud-faced gryphon's shoulders, the one formerly holding a shotgun leapt into the air with him in tow, both of them scrambling to get away from us. Crash Dive swung herself around in the cart, tracking as they flew off towards the east, her rebar cannon still primed and ready. Resting a hoof on her armor's shoulder, she looked back towards myself, my head shaking.

"Isn't worth it. They come back, we'll hit them harder. If they're running, we ought to let them. Fight's over." Crash Dive looked at myself for a moment longer, before sitting back down in the cart, still watching where the pair of gryphons were flying to, seeing them becoming specks on the horizon. The small engine of the mini-tank growled as we finally started moving again, for real this time, Hopeville a group of lights off in the distance. Sun was already well along it's descent when we came out of Seahoof... Hm. "Should we stop over in Hopeville, or head straight to the lighthouse?"

"I vote Lighthouse, because... uhm... because rolling into a populated area with so many big explosives is a bad idea! Yeah, that." Static coughed, the beam from the mini-tank's headlight illuminating the road ahead faintly as the shadows kept creeping longer. He did have a point, but I'm willing to bet that's not the only reason.

"And you don't want to risk blowing up a pony that has googly-eyes for you?" Myself releasing a chuckle, the earth pony shot a look back at me, the blush prominent on his cheeks even in the fading light. Lingering for a moment longer - good thing we were on a straight bit - he let off a huff, looking back towards the road. A smirk came to his face, glancing back at me.

"I'm more worried about her blowing herself up." 'Her'? Pretty sure Chauffeur was a... hey!

---

"Good evening North Vanhoover, you're listening to Radio KAOS and it's just about sunset from where I can see things. Today's developing evening news comes out of both Hopeville and Maple Creek, a certain air of bad blood between the two fortified towns as they're starting to point hooves at each other regarding who let the air craft get so far to the west. We here at Radio KAOS don't have any say in political manners between towns in the wasteland, but c'mon guys, blaming each other doesn't help anyone. Just makes it more likely for somepony to get hurt.

"Also from Hopeville, specifically the hydroelectric dam near there, are yet-unconfirmed reports of a flock of Talons mercenaries stopping and attacking the Vanhoover Five. We don't have any confirmation of if any of the five were injured in the fight, but considering the dam workers who caught the action happening claim seeing only two gryphons hastily retreating from the scene, it's a safe bet that the battle was both massively one-sided and sent a firm message. Some ponies just don't have decency to not call mercenaries on other ponies trying to help make the wasteland a better place... come on, I thought we were all past this, were civilized now. I mean, other than raiders, but what's the likelyhood of a band of raiders managing to keep sober long enough to afford hiring mercenaries?

"And lastly, some unfortunate news from Maple Station. One of the two large engines that provide electricity and water pressure to the town has apparently broken down, and with the winter months approaching and trade routes dying off the chances of getting it repaired soon are becoming slimmer and slimmer. I've never even heard of this kind of engine before, ahm, a 'tandem double-acting natural gas engine'. Safe bet there aren't many places that can make new parts for it. If anypony comes across one of these things, let us here at Radio KAOS know, and we'll get word out. Heh, hey, Vanhoover Five, if you're listening I think Maple Station has a job for you.

"You're listening to Radio KAOS, it's a beautiful Vanhoover evening, and I'm feeling in the mood for something mellow. Here's a classic Roger Trotters album for all of you relaxing out there and settling in - The Dark Side of the Moon."

---

"How's the hoof?" Static rested in the small booth in Crash Dive's kitchen, looking down at his bandaged leg as I trotted inside. He glanced up at myself, letting out a small sigh and sitting back upright, letting off a small grunt. I slid myself in the booth across from him, sliding one of the regular Sparkle-Colas to him while I popped open a bottle of the blue glowing kind.

"It's getting there. Might be able to stop needing the bandages soon... just a few aches every now and again." He popped the cap off of his bottle, quick to put it into his pocket before picking the bottle up. I let off a small chuckle, opening my own bottle of soda and taking a drink, looking outside at the dying sunlight. Another sigh escaped Static's lips as he leaned himself forwards, looking out the window. "How much longer do you think we're going to be stuck here for?"

"I don't know... as long as it takes us to find a working generator, and however long the Valkyrie needs to fix itself after we get it hooked up, I guess. I hope." Taking another sip of the soda, I slumped back in the booth, staring out towards the land. They had to know that we were gone by now... they were probably looking for us, too. Rolling Tracks could lead them to Stalliongrad, or the Crystal Empire, and they'd be able to find their way here from there... hopefully... I set the bottle down and unzipped my jacket, pulling out the small plushie of Twintails. We'll meet again, some sunny day...

Static took another gulp from his bottle of soda, setting it against the table and resting his head against his hoof. He let out a sigh, looking into the faintly bubbling brown liquid for a moment before lookng up towards myself, sitting up. "When'd Twintails get you that?"

"A-ahm, oh, uh... it was in one of Thumper's shells, he probably knew I'd take it again. I... didn't find it until we landed here." Smooth Strikey, caught cuddling a plushie. Well, better than having to wear a diaper again... fuck, why was I starting to miss that, of all things. Static let off a small chuckle, sitting back in his seat.

"Surprised he didn't try stuffing it in a bottle of Sparkle-Cola. Your family seems to communicate either in that stuff or ridiculously overpowered stuff." Okay, he did have a point there. We shared a small laugh, the last orange hues of day fading from the sky to a bluish night, us both looking out the window again. Wonder what time it is back home... "I want to go home, Night Strike. Hellhounds, ghouls, raiders, even those freaky fish-monster-things, those I can live with. But... people actually paying others to have us killed? I don't... I don't know how to feel about that."

I let off a sigh, looking at the half-drunk bottle of glowing blue soda. "I know. We'll just keep fighting them off, if they keep coming we'll keep killing them. That's... that's life, I guess." There was a moment's pause, us both staring into our bottles of soda. I took another gulp of mine, feeling it flow down my throat - even the taste of Sparkle-Cola RAD couldn't wash this feeling out. "I want to go home, too, Static. I want to get home, get into the back of the TOG, and just... just... I dunno, just lay there and feel like everything's back to normal again. Whatever 'normal' is..."

Static gave a quiet nod of acknowedgement, taking another sip from his bottle of soda and leaning back, one hoof rested on the table. Staring into the two button eyes of plushie dad for a quiet moment longer, I leaned myself forwards and held him against my cheek, his little plush hooves encompassing it in a small hug. Goddess-damn it, I miss them both... Static cleared his throat, myself looking up to see him chewing on his lip lightly.

"Ahm... Cross made plushies of himself and Minty for me, too. I cuddle with them every night I'm not having a sleep over with you... keep them hidden, otherwise." O... kay, I mean, it's a little surprising, but not by too much... which begs the question as to why he's telling me. He tapped his hoof against the wooden table a few times, before letting out a sigh. "It's been harder to sleep lately."

"What... oh..." He wasn't really asking what I think he's asking... is he? I mean, um... not that it's anything to actually freak out about or say no to, but... huh. "Static... do... do you want to cuddle, tonight?"

Nope, yeah, his face was definitely blushing now. "Y-yanno, if you wouldn't mind... a-ah, we can do it front to back, spooning, yanno? Just, um... yeah..." He let off a small huff, bringing a hoof to his forehead and leaning forwards again. "I should've thought this through..." Wordlessly, I finished off my bottle of soda, picking myself up from the booth and sliding out of it, trotting over to where Static sat. He watched me, a firm blush and grimace on his face, myself leaning over and getting close to him, a smile crossing my muzzle.

"Front to front is fine."

---

"Mmmnfh... nuh, nuh, the shell doesn't go in... backwards... nruh?" Snorting awake, the little plushie of Dad stared back at me in the dim light of early morning. Blinking a few times, I brought the heavy form of the legputer around to look at the time. 4:30. Okay, VERY early morning. Eh, fuck it, I still have Sparkle-Cola. Picking myself up from the bed, I slipped plushie-dad back into my jacket, fitting the heavy thing on and rubbing at my eyes. Huh, Static's up too? Probably in the kitchen, making those cute flanks of his bigger. Hell, I'd be game for that...

Trotting out of the bedroom with a Sparkle-Cola in hoof, Static definitely was in the kitchen, but interestingly enough there was a distinct lack of food being eaten. He passed a worried glance towards myself as I stepped in, taking a healthy gulp from the bottle of glowing soda. Ah, Sparkle-Cola, best pick-me-up in the wasteland... "Nh, what're you doing up so early?"

"Ah, Aerith ran through the house earlier in a panic, I'm not sure what it was about but Crash Dive and her are out on the mainland again." ...one definitive downside of being mute, not being able to scream particularly well. I hopped into the booth, scooching over to the bay window and trying to catch sight of them over on the shore. Scanning the coastline, though, made a different, more prominent worry come to my head nearly instantly as I saw it... or, more specifically, didn't see it.

"Static... where's the Valkyrie!?"

-----

I rushed out of the lighthouse, Night Strike following close behind. My mind raced with ideas as to what had happened to the Valkyrie, each more ludicrous than the last - Did somepony steal it? How the hell did they move it? Why didn’t we hear anything? I panted as we rushed across the land bridge, my leg starting to ache again from the excess effort of running. I noticed flickering orange light emanating from up on the coastal cliffs as we approached, my mind becoming even more confused. As we raced to the top of the seaside cliffs and made way towards where the light was, though, we began to slow, now able to see what the light was coming from.

A small fire had been set up a short ways inland, a few ponies gathered around it, a couple others setting up tents. I stood still, very confused, Night Strike darting past me. She raced up to one of the ponies, leaping on top of him and pinning him to the ground. “Where the hell is the Valkyrie?!” She shouted angrily. The colt screeched in a very un-masculine manner, trying to push her off of him.

“Get offa me!” He shouted, shoving at her. I rushed over and pulled Night Strike off of him before she could start tearing his throat out. He sat up, a few of the other ponies stepping in between us and him as he stood back up and attempted to calm down. “What’s wrong with you?” He said, stepping back from Night Strike a little. Night Strike turned to face the ditch that the Valkyrie had been sitting in before Aerith had got it back onto its wheels.

As she walked over to it, I noticed Aerith standing in front of it, Crash Dive arguing with a familiar lanky mare. Extra Edition glanced over to see us, her slightly smug smile growing wider as she saw us. “Ah, there’s the two ponies I was looking for!” She pulled out her notebook and quill, the tip poised on the paper to begin scrawling down notes. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about a rumored crash here yesterday?”

“At four in the goddess-damned morning? Yes, I kind of do mind.” Night Strike snapped. Aerith and Crash Dive trotted back up to us, Aerith looking somewhat nervous. “Now what did your little gang do with the Valkyrie?” Night Strike asked. Extra raised an eyebrow, scribbling something down in her notebook.

“Valkyrie? Is that some sort of code name for a weapon you five found while you were rummaging around in Seahoof?” She sounded very interested, her smile growing wider. Shit, shut up, Strikey! I elbowed her in the ribs as I stepped up to Extra. Night Strike grimaced, but clearly received the intended message. She trotted back around to the ditch, Aerith trotting over to her.

“What are you doing here, Extra? Because I kind of doubt you’re just on a camping trip.” I glanced back to the other ponies, who were watching our argument intently. Extra chuckled a little, trotting back over to the group of ponies gathered around the fire.

“Please, Static, give me a little more credit than that. If I was trying to perform some sort of covert dirt-gathering, I’d hardly set up a tent in such an easily visible spot.” She sat down on a log pulled up by the fire, facing us again. “And I already said what I’m here for. Rumor has it that an aircraft that passed Hopeville undetected crashed somewhere around here, and I want to know the story.” She pulled her quill back out and licked the tip before placing it back to the paper. “This place sure does seem to get a lot of one way air traffic.” She smiled smugly.

Crash Dive stepped forward again, her visor shimmering in the light from the fire. “You’re trespassing on private property. Now get out of here.” Crash Dive threatened. Extra’s smile faltered a little as she shifted on the log. I stepped back, hoping Crash would be able to successfully intimidate them into leaving.

“Private property? You don’t have a zoning board to back that up, let alone a deed!” Extra chuckled. The rest of the camping party didn’t look so confident, a few of them stepping over to the tents to begin dismantling them. Crash Dive took another step forward, Extra’s smile dropping as she stood up. “Alright, alright, we’re leaving. You’re not doing yourselves any favors, though. Flying craft crashing and being spotted after you guys show up digging around in military bases, a large robotic wreck northeast of Seahoof, two towns now armed to the teeth, squabbling, and paranoid of air attacks any day?” Extra slipped her quill behind her ear, starting to help pack up the camp. “Let’s just say, it’s not helping your image.”

The camp of news reporters was soon trotting away down the road, leaving Night Strike, Crash Dive, Aerith, and myself left standing next to the Valkyrie’s ditch. I turned to look at the bare spot of ground, a few tufts of grass beginning to crop up near the edges of the torn up earth. “Well, I guess that’s one problem. What the heck happened to the plane, though?” A small flash of a smile came upon Aerith's lips as her horn began to glow. In the dim light, the outline of the Valkyrie began to flicker into existence where it had always been, before fizzling away into nothingness again.

I gave sigh of relief, quite thankful that it hadn’t been stolen. Forgot she could do that. “That’s good to see, at least... Are you sure you can’t cast that spell on me next time we have to break in somewhere?” Aerith let out a small silent chuckle, and we turned to head back into the lighthouse. Scouring Charge stood at the doorway, rubbing his eyes and looking confused.

“Wha jus’ happened?” he asked, yawning. Crash Dive simply moved him away from the door, walking upstairs, Aerith following her. I stepped into the lower room as Night Strike gave a quick explanation to Scouring, who promptly nodded and headed back upstairs. I rolled over on my bed, Night Strike shutting the door behind her before she flopped down onto her own. I closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep, though Extra’s words were stuck in my head. I sighed to myself, adjusting my posture to be a bit more comfortable. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try and tell some more people about us… just, not via Extra’s news reports.

---

I twisted the handle of the small tank, it's engine beginning to rev and trundle along the ground as the others sat on the back. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Crash Dive asked as we rolled up the hill to the mainland. I gave the ditch a wide berth, not entirely remembering where the Valkyrie was when it was visiblle and not wanting to crash into it by accident.

“No, but as much as I’d rather not admit it, Extra did have a point,” I said, turning and starting to head up towards Maple Creek. "If things start to get out of control, we’re probably pretty high on the list for who to blame.” I reached down and rubbed my hind leg a little, the bullet hole now just a slightly reddened patch. Ooh, it felt good to not have to wear those bandages anymore. Night Strike gave an unsure ‘eh’. I shrugged. “Well, it still wouldn’t hurt to dispel any suspicions we can.”

I drove alongside the river flowing from Maple Creek, searching for a shallow place to cross. “You aren’t really planning on giving Extra an interview though, are you? She’ll just make things worse! She’ll probably say we were the ones who launched those Harrier things, or something!” I revved the engine, forcing the small tank forward and into the flowing water, Night Strike having to catch herself. Scouring Charge grabbed onto the sides of the trailer to steady himself as the water pushed at us. The engine whined, but we made it across with little trouble. Probably good we unloaded the bombs back in the Lighthouse earlier...

“Oh, no, no, c'mon Night Strike, that’d be horribly stupid!” Night Strike raised an eyebrow. “The KAOS guy keeps begging us for an interview on his show, but it's not exactly groveling. He’s probably at least a little less desperate than Extra... not to mention the radio show will reach a lot more ponies than Extra’s newsletter.” The edge of town began to appear over the horizon, a few ponies tending to the farms and wooded areas on the outskirts already. “And Ripple did say he’d give us a ride on Trout whenever we’d like.”

I turned to drive around the edge of town, pulling up to the docks where Trout was bobbing in the river. The engine died down as we all hopped out of the tank and trailer, myself looking down at my hoof - well, mud on a former bullet wound, that's one of the weirder things I've felt in my lifetime. Night Strike knocked gently on the small shack where Ripple’s touring office was, glancing towards myself as I caught up. There was a small scuffle before the door creaked open, revealing the aging stallion. “Ah, ahoy, what can I do fer you guys today?” He asked, smiling.

“We were wondering if you’re still offering that trip on Trout.” Ripple smiled and nodded, stepping back to let us into the office. He opened the drawer of his desk, pulling out a large map along with a compass and a small pencil. I looked around the office, noticing it was slightly cleaner than the last time we’d been in.

“Oh, aye, absolutely, I’ve been dying to have another reason to take her out again.” Ripple laughed. He slipped a captain’s hat off of a coat rack, stashing the compass and pencil in it before placing it on his head, holding the rolled up map under one leg. We trotted back out to the boat, Ripple reaching over to pull the small boarding plank out from between the dock and Trout. He paused upon seeing Aerith’s magical aura surround the mini tank and its trailer, beginning to slowly lift it into the air. “Er… you planning on bringing that, too?”

Aerith nodded, and Ripple looked back up to the boat, bighting at his lip for a moment. “Alright, but keep it to the center as best as you can, and don’t congregate around it. Don’t want to end up running into the ground.” He hopped over the side and onto the deck, myself following as Night Strike helped to guide the tank into place before fluttering down onto the boat. Trout rocked in the water as the small tank was placed near the rear of the main area. Scouring Charge pulled the boarding plank back across after climbing on deck.

I followed Ripple to the back of the boat as Crash Dive leaned onto the railing, looking forward into town. Ripple turned his head, yelling over to Scouring Charge. “Aye, could you untie us from the dock?” Scouring nodded and his horn lit up as the ropes secured to the dock undid themselves. Ripple stepped up to a large winch, a thick, heavy chain dangling from it to the water. Anchor, right? “Mind helping me out?” I nodded and we both took a side of the crank, which squeaked as it turned, the chains rattling as a large anchor was slowly drawn up out of the river below.

Ripple rushed up to the bridge, taking a hold of the wheel and spinning it as the boat began to drift downstream away from the shore. “Casting off!” He cried before taking hold of a lever and pushing it forward, cranking a small valve at the same time. I could hear the engine below us sputter before roaring to life, the boat’s progress downstream slowing before it began to chug forward, heading up the river. Ripple relaxed for a moment, unfurling the map laid out on the table of dials and lights in front of him. “Now, anywhere in particular you guys wanted to go? The waterfall past the lake is a pretty sight, and we could always try fishing in some of the calmer spots, if I didn’t forget to toss my poles back below deck last time.” He called down to us from a window.

“Think you could take us out to the Island Radio KAOS is on?” I called back up to him. Night Strike leaned against the side of the boat as well, looking down at the water flowing past us as Scouring Charge watched Maple Creek slowly fall away as we headed upriver. “And shouldn’t we be going the other way for that?” Ripple shook his head.

“Nah, the river gets too shallow downstream. We’ll have to go up to take a deeper one down to the coast. It shouldn’t take more than a couple hours, though.” I nodded and Ripple slid his head back through the window, taking a hold of the large wheel again. I walked up to the front of the boat, watching as the countryside slid past us. The sun shone down on us as we travelled along the river, the water flowing a little slower further up, allowing Trout to push ahead faster.

Night Strike idly swung her legs over the side of the boat, dropping off and spreading her wings. She flapped them, flying alongside Trout as Crash Dive watched her. Night Strike dipped and weaved, a look of relaxation crossing her face as she glided through the air. I scooted over to Crash Dive, noticing her head drooping a little. “You miss flying?” I asked, trying to comfort her. She stood silently before pulling the mask of her helmet off - not enough to be easily noticed, but just open enough to stop her voice from coming through the modulator.

“Yeah. It’s… hard. To put it lightly.” She muttered, her head still tilted down towards the water below. “The drill sergeant always had us up in the air by sunrise every morning. A lot of the other trainees didn’t like getting up so early, but… well, I suppose I didn’t like the lack of sleep either, but…” She paused, taking a deep breath, trying to keep her voice stable. “The cool air, the sun just coming up as we flew around the compound…” Her voice trailed off as she let her head fall onto the edge of the boat, one hoof coming up around over her head. She sniffled, my ears falling back as she began to sob. “Celestia, why? I… I just…” She tried to speak, but was soon crying, her tears falling down off her muzzle and into the river.

I lifted my hoof up, placing it around Crash Dive. She sniffed again, not moving as I gave her a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry.” I said softly. Crash Dive leaned into me a little, as Ripple spun the wheel and turned into a larger branch of the river heading back towards the coast. As the boat straightened out, she drew in a ragged breath before standing up straight and fixing her mask back on.

“Thanks, Static. I… thanks.” I gave her a small smile, both of us leaning back onto the front of the boat, watching for the cliffs of the coast to come into view in the distance.

---

“Alright, hold on!” Ripple called out. Trout banged against some large rocks in the river, Scouring Charge stumbling a little on the pitching deck. The cliffs towered above us as Ripple attempted to keep a hold of the wheel. The normally calm river had turned into a short series of rapids as we’d approached the coastline, several chunks of the cliffs having fallen down into the water below.

I grabbed onto the mini tank as the boat tilted again to keep myself from falling over. “I thought you said this way was the safer route!” I shouted back up to Ripple. Trout hit another rock, this time a little harder, and I was knocked onto my side, Aerith flapping her wings to stay above the deck. Jeez, this thing is going to sink before we even make it into open water! I grabbed onto the small tank for balance as I pulled myself back onto my hooves, Ripple managing to maneuver around some more rocks. The river began to slow, opening up into the ocean as Ripple steered us away from the rapids and out into the open waters.

He trotted down from the bridge, Trout slowly heading along the coast, Crash’s lighthouse standing tall in the distance. “Aye, sorry about that, I suppose my map’s a bit outdated. Hopefully somepony at KAOS knows a safer way back.” I looked up at the lighthouse as we passed by it, trying to see if Extra had come back for another try for an interview. Nothing appeared to be moving in the area, though, save for a large mutated scorpion flailing its pincers around up by the minefield - we really need to lay down more of those things before we get some kind of infestation.

As we rounded the peninsula Crash Dive’s lighthouse sat on, the large island Radio KAOS was stationed on came into view. Several large buildings and some trees dotted the island mainly, though the true marvel was the enormous battleship docked on the island. It's deck was littered with large turreted guns, making Trout and the guns we'd put on her look like toys in comparison. As we drew closer, the large form of the ship dwarfed Trout, but also allowed us to see just how empty it was - nothing seemed to be moving aboard the deck. Ripple stepped back up to the controls, slowly turning Trout in towards the harbor. A pony waved to us from the pier, Ripple slowing the boat down before docking us. Night Strike and myself both tossed a few ropes overboard, the pony on the dock quickly going to work securing us in.

The pony that had waved greeted us as we lowered the ladder and began to climb off of the boat. “Hey, White Noise of Radio KAOS at your service!” He said cheerfully. “We don’t get many visitors here. You here for a tour of the ship, the island, or to stop by to see the studio?” Ripple remained on the boat, climbing back down into the lower deck to retrieve some fishing gear.

“Uh, can we get a tour of the studio?” I asked, Night Strike passing along a look of slight disappointment. I rolled my eyes - Oh, hush, we can look at all the fancy guns after we get the interview. White Noise nodded and began to lead us down the pier, Ripple sitting atop the mini tank and casting out into the sea. We all trotted over towards the imposing battleship, White Noise trotting up some stairs leading to a plank connected to the lower deck. Night Strike giggled excitedly as we followed, her eyes darting about between the large gun turrets.

“Uh, ok, studio is…” White Noise paused, his hoof drifting between three hallways. “This way.” He said, heading down it towards another set of stairs. “Sorry, I’ve only been here a few days, I’m still memorizing the lay-out.” We began to climb a long set of steep stairs, looping back and forth and back and forth. Night Strike began to pant a little as we climbed, trotted down another corridor, climbed a few more steps, doubled back, and found another set of stairs to climb. To my relief, we were soon climbing up into a cramped room, a small sign next to the door revealing we were now in the communications tower. A large red light beside the door was slowly flashing, the words ‘on air’ glowing on a terminal below it. White Noise peeked in through the door, scratching at his mane. “It says we’re on but, I don’t think the DJ’s talking right now. He’s usually pretty open to visitors.” He slowly opened the door and stepped through.

We all piled into the room lined with large windows revealing the ship below us. A stallion was laying back on his chair in front of a repurposed array, several lights cracked and damaged, several sliders installed on the face of the desk. Music played softly in the background, a mic hanging beside the snoozing pony. White Noise coughed awkwardly, the stallion opening one eye blearily. It looked over to White Noise before shifting to the rest of us, only for him to pause, his eyes shooting open as he stared at us. He glanced back to White Noise. “Mmmnhuh? What th- ow...” He stuttered before sitting up, banging his head on the mic above him. He rubbed his head, still looking dumbfounded.

“The Vanhoover Five, Mr DJ.” I said, sticking out a hoof and attempting to look professional. “We heard you wanted an interview.”