Splashdown
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"A-ahm... gee, I, eheh, u-um- shit." The stallion sitting behind the sound board fumbled with the microphone for a moment, looking over the readouts and dials and glancing over at a holotape deck beside a rack of records. Looking back to us, he let off a sigh, rubbing at his eyes. "S-sorry, tend to let the equipment just handle the broadcast for a while when it gets late. Name's Jim, heh, nice to finally meet the critically-acclaimed Vanhoover Five in the flesh." We all stepped inside the small studio, White Noise shuffling his way out past Aerith, the DJ shuffling his chair back for us to fit. He scratched at his head, pushing the microphone aside. "Huh... Yanno, I think I need more space than I thought I did. Ahm, you wouldn't object to only two or three at a time, would you?"
"I think we can do that. Only four of us actually, um, speak, anyways." Letting off a weak chuckle, I rubbed at the back of my head, the DJ thinking for a moment before a look of realization came over his face, himself answering with a nod. He flicked a few settings on the console in front of him, looking over one of the screens for a second before turning back to us.
"Alright, we'll be going live in about two minutes, who's on first?" Looking between us all, myself and Static glanced at each other first, the door already opening up and Aerith stepping back out into the hallway. Crash Dive and Scouring both watched her before glancing back at us, following the Alicorn's lead out from the studio, Static giving a shrug as Jim watched their exit. "Well, okay then. Uh, got a couple chairs over there you can pull up, just, um... ah, try to not make a lotta noise." Giving him a small nod, I turned about and followed static over to the row of office chairs, the song fading out and the DJ's voice coming in.
"Good afternoon North Vanhoover, you're listening to Radio KAOS and it's a wonderful day out there today. Our latest news story comes from this very island this old warship is moored at, just today a fishing trawler showed up out of Maple Creek with some rather well-known characters aboard it. Can't wait to see what it looks like moored behind this huge old thing, heh. Anyways, due to some spacing limitations I'll only be able to have two or three of them inside here at a time, but I'm sure the rest don't mind watching from outside. I've a pretty good hunch a lot of you fine people out there already know who these ponies are, but for the sake of those who don't, why don't you two introduce yourselves for us?"
Jim wore a soft smile on his muzzle as he moved the microphone's boom over in front of us both, myself adjusting my wings in the chair as Static cleared his throat. "A-ahm, ah, hi Vanhoover, I'm Static Charge, I drive a half-track with a big grenade machine gun on it's back."
"And I'm Night Strike, I'm the one who handles that big grenade machine gun, eheh. We're two of the Vanhoover Five, and, ah, we're here because..." I trailed off for a short moment, Static tugging at the zipper of his jacket for a little bit before it made a faint zipping sound. "B-because we're here to reply to that live interview you asked for! Eheh, right."
"Heh, well, I'm glad that you could make it. You five have been doing a lot for this little patch of Equestria since you showed up, I think I can safely speak for everypony around when I say you're probably the best thing that's happened for us since the Lightbringer came up a decade ago. So, tell us, why'd you decide to go and start helping out the people around here? I mean, isn't every day that a group of ponies come along like yourselves."
"A-ahm, well, you see, our pla- uh, our vehicle kind of broke down a week or two ago, while we were coming through, and, um, we were trying to... get it fixed! Um, yeah..." Static let out a weak chuckle, rubbing at the back of his head. "Crash Dive's letting us stay at her place for the time being, and Aerith and Scouring Charge we kind of just bumped into on the way while we were going around. It's been a hell of an adventure so far, let me tell ya..."
Jim gave a few soft nods, moving the mic to a more comfortable position for all of us. "Ah, out of towners. Heh, well, between arming Hopeville and Maple Creek, and blowing up that slaver camp, I'd certainly agree with you on that sentiment. Want to ask though, this vehicle you showed up in, can't be that little half-track thing. What is it, some kind of skywagon, or something?" Myself and Static gave a quick glance between each other - oh boy, he had to ask about this, didn't he? "And, heh, just want to know, how out of town are we talking about? Might be nice to see if the folks back home know what you've been doing for us here."
"A-ahm, heh, I kinda doubt Radio KAOS reaches out to where we live... pretty much a certainty it doesn't." The DJ leaned forwards, eyebrows lifting in curiosity as Static gnawed at his lip. Oh, this is a hell of a minefield to have to navigate... "And, um, yeah, it's... sort of a skywagon. A real big, real fast... heavily armed..." I let myself trail off, Static's expression only getting more worried. Jim glanced at the console, myself letting off a sigh - gonna have to spill the beans at some point, might as well be now. "Yes, we're from out of town. I'm from a little town to the far north known as Turnpike, and Static's from a city known as Mooscow. They're well past the extent of the Crystal Empire, talking thousands of miles to the north."
The DJ of Radio KAOS stammered, looking at myself in surprise, swallowing for a moment before clearing his throat. "Heh, that must have been one hell of a long flight. Admittedly I'm surprised you still have your wings if you were the one hauling your skywagon for that kind of distance, that must be some sort of new world record. How long did it take you to get here from so far to the north like that?"
"Ahm... only a few hours, we think. Our skywagon... isn't really a skywagon." Static gave a look over towards myself, Jim turning to look towards my earth pony friend. Well, at least we're being honest. "It's, um... it's an experimental military air craft, called the Valkyrie. That, um, that Empty Quiver alert you picked up a few weeks ago... yeah, that was us, landing here. Or, more specifically crashing here." The DJ was slumped over in his chair, forelegs gone limp and a dumbfounded expression on his face. You're the one who wanted the interview, buddy... "W-we've got it all under control now, though! There's no chance of any of them going off accidentally... probably... we, um, we've been trying to get it fixed and back into flying shape. Like you mentioned when we first came down, we, ahm, we did land in a minefield though, so... yeah."
The studio was silent for a long moment, Jim staring at us both and Static giving a short uneasy glance towards myself. The DJ cleared his throat, taking the microphone back. "A-ahm, well, you've heard it here first, folks, at least two of the Vanhoover Five are ponies quite far away from home. Least we know they're also the ones that have the whole empty quiver thing in check, and Static is right in bringing that little minefield fact up. Unless you don't like your legs being connected to your body all that much, best if everypony just keeps away from where they're touched down. You need to contact them, just send a call in to me, and I'll relay the message fast as they can pick it up. Anyways, I think we've been talking for long enough, how about I get some music going again? You're listening to Radio KAOS, and let's Get Back to Radio."
The DJ flipped a switch on the console, the holotape deck making a small whirring sound as the new album faded in with, strangely enough, the Radio KAOS jingle. He spun about in his chair, letting off a long sigh and rubbing at his head. "Gee... I'm gonna tell you, when I asked for an interview, I was -not- expecting a story like that. I don't know what it's like where you're from, but for two fish way out of water you're sure seeing to this place getting a whole lot nicer since you've been down here."
"Least we can do, honestly. I mean, hey, if there's something that needs to be blown into orbit, can count on us to get it done." Letting off a chuckle, I slid myself out of the chair as Static gave a roll of his eyes, doing the same. Pausing for a moment, I turned back about towards Jim, a small grin on my face. "Speaking of stuff blowing up, didn't you say something about having some anti-aircraft guns here for us?"
The DJ of Radio KAOS slumped in his chair slightly, looking up at the ceiling and seeming to be lost in thought. "Did I?... Hm... oh! Oh, yeah, yeah, I remember now. Of course, if you can carry them you can take as many as you want, I ain't using them. Ahm, White Noise can show you to it, might bump into that other guy who lives here too. Hope you like history lessons if you do." He let off a short chuckle, wheeling his chair over to another console and pressing the button on a smaller microphone. "White Noise, could you come to the studio and show our guests to those smaller guns we've got onboard? The, um, the ones with the sort of cones at the end, the Pom-Poms, yanno."
A short while later, the stallion returned to us, and we were back to weaving our way through the innards of the ship. Good thing we have a guide, at least - these things were not built to make getting around them by civilians easy, were they? Guh, come on pre-war ship designers, why couldn't you have made these things like tanks instead? After winding through the main tower we eventually appeared out on one of the decks, Static taking a small peek over the side before quickly moving himself to the far side of the walkway, his coat matching his hair. Oh, come on, it's only a couple hundred foot drop! Guh, earth ponies...
"Alright, here's one of the turrets. Twin-mount MWT Bofors forty mil guns, ahm, ammo's in the boxes around it. If you need me, there's probably a intercom station somewhere nearby, I think... ah, just head to the bridge and tap on the glass, I'll find you." Giving us a small smile, the stallion turned himself about and went back towards the main tower of the ship, Aerith and Scouring stepping forwards. The Steel Ranger looked over the base of the turret as Aerith checked over the guns themselves, myself hovering to the other side as Static stuck to the wall near Crash Dive.
Small squeaks filled the air as Scouring's magic encompassed large bolt heads, starting to slowly twist the rusted things out of the deck of the ship, myself looking over the boxes of ammunition with Aerith. Cracking one open, the tarnished brass casing of a beautiful 40mm APHE shell met my view, myself pulling it out and tossing it in my hooves. Hm, very nice, no damage on the primer, powder... cordite load seems like it's still in good condition, shell's not in bad shape either. We do need some to replace the ones Static shot off in the Valkyrie... hope it's a general shell type. Setting the long bullet back into the box, Aerith's black screen came into view, along with a worried look on her face.
'Might have a small problem. This plaque says the whole turret weighs at least three tons.' I blunk a few times, pausing and trotting over to her, her screen following with me. She followed me with her worried expression, pointing a hoof towards the small engraved metal on the side of the turret. 'The mini-tank weighs just about the same with the trailer, we won't be able to take it back with us if we bring this along.'
"Well... shit." Scratching at the back of my head, another long bolt clattered against the deck as Scouring undid it, poking his head back up with a small smile. It faded as he caught mine and Aerith's faces, Static picking himself up and joining in. I let out a small huff, looking up at the massive warship. "Kay guys, got a slight problem. This AA turret weighs three tons, and the mini-tank weighs three tons, and Trout has enough trouble carrying the mini-tank. And it's getting late. What're we gonna do?"
There was a short pause as we all looked between each other, the silence broken as Crash Dive cleared her throat. "Let's get the gun on Trout and back to the mainland, we can stay the night and give the DJ those interviews. If the ponies who have the other Harriers are who I think they are, the towns like Hopeville and Maple Creek are going to need all the help they can get." She trotted herself over to the turret, getting up close to it and giving it a look-over. "This thing is as good as they'll get, auto-ranging gunsights and motorized traverse. Getting it to them and put in use against the Harriers should be our top priority."
"A-and getting paid for it, right?" Static chimed in, the power armored pegasus - and myself - shooting him a small glare. Always thinking about bottlecaps in some part of your brain, aren't you? He coughed, letting out a weak chuckle and giving a shrug. "What? We'll have to pay Ripple for the transport fees somehow, and it's a hell of a lot better than the other guns, isn't it? 500k easily, at least 450 thousand caps for it." I let out a sigh, giving my head a shake - you really want to bankrupt these towns, don't you, Sparky?
"We'll handle that later. For now, let's just get this thing off in one piece." Scouring and Aerith both gave a small nod, their horns alighting and magic wrapping around the gun turret, it letting off a fair few creaks as they started to lift it from it's place. With a loud creak, the rusty base lifted from the deck and up a few inches, Aerith letting out a quiet sigh and spreading her wings, trotting over to the deck railing. As they were carefully moving it over the side of the ship, a door swung open with a clatter further down, us all looking over at a ghoul adorned in an old sailor uniform, who was returning our stare with much less confusion and much more anger.
"The right hell are you doing to my ship!? Have you no shame?!" The ghoul earth pony brought himself to a stop behind Scouring, starting to reach up and try to grab at his horn... I think. What he did manage to accomplish is nearly cause Aerith to drop the AA gun we'd just taken off onto the lower deck. "Get that bloody Bofors mount right back where it was this instant! I won't have ye stealing museum property!"
"Fockin' hell, git yerself off'a me!" Scouring's horn lit up again, the sailor stallion that was climbing over him getting dragged off a moment later, thrashing about for a short while before letting off a huff in defeat. Aerith looked back to us, Crash Dive waving a hoof to her to get her going back to Trout and Ripple, the alicorn giving a nod and throwing up that invisible-thing again. Yeah, that was still pretty cool. "We 're told we could take these things, put 'em to use where they're needed. Aren't protecting shit sitting on this thing, are they?"
"Oh-ho, so jus' because some zebras 'r' gryphons got their filthy hooves on those fancy Harriers and are raising hell on the mainland means ye can just waltz on here and take Cadence's guns? You're all more fucked in the head than I am if ye think that's how it is!" The sailor stallion looked madly around the air aside the ship, Aerith long gone with the twin mount already. Wait a second... he knows what the Harriers are? He let out a low growl as he shot a glare back at us, turning himself around and starting to trot back along the deck. "No respect fer anyone anymore, I fought so you're not speakin' zebra or serving gryphons right now, yanno! But what do I get in return for my service? Ponies who can't even show some bloody respect to war heroes..."
"Ahm, sorry, what was that about the Harriers?" He stopped in his tracks as I trotted forth towards him, glancing towards Crash Dive as I approached the ghoul. Okay, he might be a few bits short of a loony, but if he knows what those things are capable of... "We found where they were in storage, in Seahoof. The way the file about them was worded, it sounded more like they stayed as experimental, never saw combat... did they?" The old sailor balked at the question, his eyes glancing between us all for a moment before he let out a heavy sigh. A firm look came on his face as he cleared his throat, shutting the door he'd come out of and turning back to face us.
"Aye, they did. Same time I did, aboard this very ship, down in the Foalland Islands. Not surprised if you've never heard of that scuffle before. C'mon." The sailor waved a hoof over his shoulder, turning about and trotting down along the deck once more. Glancing back at the rest of the group, I gave them a small shrug and started following after him, the sound of three more sets of hooves following behind me soon after. Hey, if he says this is a museum, and he fought on it might as well have him show us around. His old eyes met mine for a moment as we started moving past another twin forty-mil mount, giving a small nod. "Petty Officer Fowler, Flight Coordinator for the Heavy Cruiser HMS Cadence. Call her a Destroyer and I'll throw ye overboard. Call her a Battleship, you're not exactly wrong, but you're not right either."
Static bit at his lip as he caught up with myself, still sticking to the inner side of the walkway as we continued forth past the end of the upper part of the ship, a massive smokestack casting a long shadow overhead and lights strung along a wire hung from it. Huh, didn't really think pegasi would've been ones for staying aboard warships, with all the water getting everywhere... "So when you say Flight Coordinator, you mean your job was to tell pegasi what was going on, or something?" Fowler let out a dry chuckle after a short moment, shaking his head, the shape of a long rail sticking off the side of the deck above us catching my attention.
"Not quite. That rail we're just walkin' under, that was used fer launching one of Cadence's four scout fighters, another metal bird that saw action down in the Foallands. Hawker Aero F/A-2 'Changeling', boat jet aircraft. I oversaw those things getting sent out against the Gryphons, communicated with the pilots while they picked up info." F/A-2? Huh... Hawker... same pre-war company that made the Harriers, how about that. Pausing for a moment, I spread my wings wide and gave them a flap, curiosity getting the better of me as my eyes were drawn to that launch rail. Just a quick flight up to see this thing... "That one, number 3, was lost to cannon fire. Damn near took the pilot's life when the shells came in... wound up lucky, just lost his legs."
Hovering in place for a moment, I quietly set myself back down upon the deck, curiosity at least subdued for the moment. That's right Strikey, this is a warship, and it probably did fight in a war, and likely saw several of its crew die onboard it so there might be lots of ghosts and other stuff aboard... I hope there's some kind of bunkhouse or something on the island. Nothing personal, I just don't particularly like sleeping in places where I could get posessed or something... it could happen, there's freakier stuff in the wasteland! Fowler let off a small grunt, giving a small nod and trotting on.
Continuing further along the ship, we soon reached one of the large turrets, and with it the end of the upper deck. The ghoulified sailor let off a small nod towards the large guns, turning about and stopping us just before the railing, netting us a great view of the huge thing, as well as the width of the ship itself. "This is one of Cadence's main batteries, and aside from her collection of anti-air guns what makes her a Heavy Cruiser rather'n a Battleship. Twin 203 millimeter guns, can lob a shell up to 35 kilometers away and maintain a barrage of six rounds per minute per gun with a full crew. Stagger-fire a broadside, that's 48 8-inch 'fuck you's landing right on the target's face every minute. Scouts'd say they could see the gryphons running for their lives when the first shells came in, heh."
"Ahm, sorry, just a little confused here, wasn't the great war against the Zebras? Why do you keep saying gryphons instead?" Static scratched at his head as Fowler started to move towards the stairway to the lower deck, the sailor letting out a small huff and resting a hoof on the railing. Leaning back, the ghoul rubbed at his forehead for a moment, muttering to himself, before addressing us again.
"If you'd clean the gun cotton outta your ears, you'd have heard me say that Cadence and myself both saw action in the Foallands War, not the bloody Great War. My understanding the powers that be were worried that it'd kick off the latter, but thankfully the stripes didn't support the gryphons." The ghoul moved back to the stairway, glancing back at us and giving a nod to follow, turning around and climbing to the lower deck. We all followed after, myself hovering and landing down beside the sailor, a small huff escaping him. "Foallands War was over the Foalland Islands in the south, a bunch of cold rocks that had a few ponies living on it. Problem is, the islands butted right up by Gryphon lands, and when the ponies livin' there found those black dusty rocks were great for burnin', well..." The old sailor let off a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Headlines said the Princess started it to protect those ponies livin' there, but I've a pretty good hunch she just didn't want to have to pay more fer coal."
Returning him a silent nod, Static seemed to be thinking about... something, us all continuing on towards the other end of the ship. Passing by the muzzles of the lower deck turret, the sound of four hooves landing against the deck caught my attention, glancing back in time to see Aerith reappearing behind us. She wore a somewhat exhausted expression, trotting forth to keep with us, letting out a silent sigh. Well, it is getting late... "Say, um, Fowler, is there any place we could all sleep for tonight? We're, uh, kinda stuck here until tomorrow."
The old ghoul gave a firm glare back at myself, letting out a small huff as a cool breeze blew along the ship. "That's Petty Officer Fowler, ma'am. There's a small museum town onshore, you might all be able to sleep in a lobby or something. No power armor below decks, you'd scratch the paint or get stuck in the bulkheads." Well, friendly, but I guess he must have some reasoning behind it. Besides, probably are some goodies in the museums nobody'd care about, anyways...
"Understood, thanks." Giving him a small nod, he returned it, starting to walk back towards the rear of the gun turret, myself turning about to look at the rest of the group. Aerith was holding herself up against the ship's railing, a long yawn escaping her as she slumped forwards, seeming like she was ready to pass out on the spot. Okay, yeah, been a long day, let's get onshore and go to bed. Spreading my wings wide, I took to hovering, looking inland for a moment before catching the stares from the rest - oh, right, only me and Aerith can really fly. "U-um, Fow- Petty Officer? Eheh, um... how do we get off the ship?"
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"Welcome back, you're tuned into Radio K A O S, KAOS in Vanhoover, and tonight I'm pleased to say that a few ponies we all know and love decided to drop by my island to take me up on that offer for an interview earlier today. Due to a, um, small technical oversight, we could only fit two ponies in the studio at a time, but so far the interviews have been quite surprising, to say the least. Kind of wish I wasn't asleep when they arrived, could've gotten some recording system set up here, heh...
"Anyways, about the first two of the Vanhoover Five, Night Strike and Static Charge, these two are a lovely young couple who're here on an unwanted extended vacation from a frozen-solid icebox up way to the north, well past the Crystal Empire and I think bordering what's left of Yakyakistan to the south. All I have to say about it, I kinda want to know how in the hell they manage to live up there, considering all they were wearing when they popped in were some jackets and nothing more, heh. I guess ponies living where they do just have antifreeze for blood.
"How they got here, well... everyone remembers that Empty Quiver warning, yeah? The whole thing about a theft of megaspells, and that black air craft that crashed here a few weeks ago? Well, as it turns out, that was them making their entrance. As I said when I first learned what the warning was, though, these are megaspells we are dealing with, and Static did make it clear to us that on top of that they crashed their plane the Valkyrie down in the middle of a minefield, it wouldn't be a smart idea to go looking for it if you care about your well-being. They might have crashed it, but since they're the ones that came here in it, it's best to just leave handling the things to them - I'm sure they know what they're doing. Hey, these are the same ones that blew up a slaver camp, best if we trust they know what they're doing when it comes to handling explosives, yeah?
"Anyhow, here's a big thank you to the Vanhoover Five for coming to my little island to give those live interviews, I'm looking forwards to getting the rest of your stories tomorrow. This is Radio KAOS signing off for the night, and letting the soothing melodies of the wasteland's sweetheart lull you all to sleep. Goodnight, and sweet dreams, Vanhoover."
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After a short while of wandering back about the innards of the ship, we all finally managed to get back to the outside, a gentle breeze blowing in from the ocean as we made our way across the long walkway down onto the dock. Ripple was still sitting at the edge of his boat with his line cast out into the water, a few small fish flopping about on the deck beside him. As we approached, Ripple let off a small grunt from aboard Trout, giving a small glance back to us, seting his pole in a holder and trotting to meet us near the large old gun turret. “I know what ye want to do, and my answer's no. You put that thing on here now and Trout’s not going to need an anchor anymore." His gaze moved from the group and narrowed upon both Night Strike and myself. "Please tell me you two aren’t being serious with this.”
Night Strike gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, uh, yeah, actually.” The pegasus rubbed at the back of her head while Ripplelet his jaw slacken, letting out a small huff. “W-we know it's too heavy, have it figured out already. We'll take the mini-tank off and spend the night while you bring this back to Maple Creek, the DJ wants us to stick around anyway since he couldn’t fit us all in at once for an interview.” The sailor pony looked between the gun turret and the mini tank a few times before giving an unsure sigh, pulling in his reel and scooping up the fish from the deck.
“Alright, I’ll be back sometime tomorrow around noon, then. One of the ponies here that runs their own fishing boat up from Vanhoover showed me a smoother way back.” He tossed his fishing gear below the deck and dropped the fish into a small covered cage beside the steps to the controls. “Now, make sure you take that mini-tank off first, don’t want to have to bail Trout out from the bottom of the ocean just a few days after getting her working again.”
The alicorn gave a weak nod, supporting herself on the turret and turning attention to the ship. Both Aerith and Scouring’s horns began to glow as they lifted the small half-track and wagon off of Trout, the small boat bobbing up slightly in the water as the weight was removed. They gingerly levitated the tank over and set it gently on the hard shore, Aerith looking especially weakened by the effort. The mix of their auras dissipated from the tank and moved over to the large turret, slowly lifting it back up onto Trout. The boat sank back down into the water slightly as the gun was lowered onto it, almost matching where it was resting when the half-track was aboard it instead. Ripple leaned over the side of the boat to look down at us, pushing aside one of the mounted steampipe guns. “Aye, you sure you’re fine staying here? Do you even have somewhere to sleep?”
“Don’t worry, somepony up on the ship said the museum probably has some place to sleep. Something about not wanting power armor below decks.” Night Strike chimed in, giving a glance over to Aerith and going to rummaging around in her duffel bag. Ripple nodded and walked into the main cabin, myself and Crash Dive untying Trout from the dock. Her engine chuffed up to life, pulling her backwards out of the harbor and turning her about, the small ship starting to head back towards the mainland. Heading back to the shore, I hopped into the driver's seat, the others climbing on behind. “Ahm... I think I see the museum back that way.” Night Strike pointed off in the distance, a road leading up into the small hills of the island, with what looked like a clock tower poking out between them.
I revved the engine and began to follow the road up, the treads kicking up a few pebbles as I rolled onto the cracked road. The path turned back and forth as we travelled up through the hills of the island, the clock tower slowly coming into better view. As we turned one corner, we arrived at a small square, a large wooden building standing at the opposite end. The clock on the tower was stuck at 7:43, grass and bushes growing through and around the cracked pavement. I pulled up in front of the building, a rusted sign hanging on the side reading ‘Bull Isle Museum’. “Bugger me... think anypony still lives here?” Scouring asked.
“It was only Jim, White Noise and Fowler aboard the HMS Cadence, I think it's safe to say this place is pretty well abandoned.” Night Strike slid herself off from the back, looking about. I climbed out of the tank myself, glancing around the small square worryingly. It better be abandoned, I really don’t want to be woken up in the middle of the night by ghouls tearing my flesh off. Night Strike pushed open the double doors of the museum, stepping into the dimly lit lobby as we all followed suit. The lobby had a few dirty chintz benches set up along the sides, a round desk situated in the middle with a sign hanging above it, listing off admission prices.
I flopped down onto one of the benches after laying down my umbrella close by, Crash Dive removing her helmet and lying down on another one. I closed my eyes, listening as the rest found their own beds, trying to ignore the heat of the room wafting in from outside. Ugh, this might not be a good night...
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I awoke to the sound of some soft chittering, opening my eyes to see some mouthparts, a large radroach sitting on me. “Nyaaaaah, getitoffgetitoffgetitoff!!” I screamed, whimpering and yelling as I stood up sharply, shoving the bug off of me. It landed on its back, legs twitching uselessly in the air before I picked up my umbrella and smashed it down into the creature, its legs curling up as it died. I panted, looking over to see Night Strike trotting back in from a side room.
“Nnnfh, well, good morning to you too, Sparky... Hey, I guess we just have to have you sleepy to kill stuff!” Night Strike let off a loud snicker, myself shooting her a glare and fiting my umbrella back onto my back. Looking about, it was the least bit surprising that it was just us here. Looking back to Night Strike, she gave her back a stretch, letting off a grunt and answering my confusion. “The rest are already heading off to their interview, probably won’t be back until a little before Ripple shows back up again. They, uh, they took the mini-tank too, so we’re kind of stuck at the museum.” I shuddered and stood up, still recovering from my wake up call, giving my head a shake. I really didn't need that... “Ooh, but look what I found! Guess what one of the exhibits is~” She trotted over and showed me a small faded pamphlet folded over to a simple guidemap, her hoof happily pointing to a dot with some crude representations of weapons around it. “Weapons of the Equestrian, Gryphon and Zebra Empires!” She said, giddily. “Maybe they’ve got a Balefire Egg Launcher there!”
Letting off a small sigh, I rolled my eyes in response, following her through the building. We walked up some old stone steps towards the back of the museum, passing by a life sized whale model, the cords that had been suspending it from the ceiling having snapped from age, and now lay in a tangled mess over it. Turning down another corridor, we stepped into a large room with several display cases and stands littering it, a few propaganda posters plastered on the wall.
Walking over to one of the small displays, inside it held a laser rifle stood on a small stand. Brushing off some dust from it, I read the plaque in front of it as Night Strike looked at a lever action rifle on the opposite side of the display. Hm... 'The AR-13 Magical Energy Rifle. This model tends to be used more for private purposes than front line combat due to its high visibility.' Not to mention anything better than some bits of leather can deflect it without so much as a burn mark, assuming dad’s not just defending his preference for plasma the way he does Sunrise Sarsaparilla.
Wandering over to another display, Night Strike did the same, ogling some faded pictures of ridiculously large battleship guns. Some sort of large rifle lay on the display, though it looked much more worn and damaged than the lever action rifle had been, and was sporting a scope. 'Standard Zebra Rifle. This weapon fires in three round bursts and is enchanted to ignite its targets. Despite being commonly used by Zebras, this specific gun was captured during the campaign to liberate the Foalland Islands from Gryphon forces.' I lifted up the rifle, only for the scope to fall off and shatter. Okay, so this thing is probably too broken to be worth anything now. I tossed it back onto the display as Night Strike spoke up. “Hey, come check this thing out!”
I turned to see her standing at a display where a long, slender sword stood on a stand, it's blade still shimmering a little in the light. I grinned as I walked up to it, looking it over and brushing a small caked layer of dust off of the glass. It's faded golden handle was wrapped in a scarlet piece of cloth, the hilt of the sword emblazoned with a large sapphire, silver metal stretching out from it around the hilt in a spider like fashion. “This sword was presented as part of a peace offering from Golden Quill, one of the Gryphon Empire's top military leaders, following their defeat in the Foallands conflict. The gem in the center generates a powerful electrical discharge when the blade makes contact with any conductive surface.” Night Strike read from the plaque, wearing a smile. Ohohoho, this thing is sounding better and better by the second!
After a moment of carefully removing a pane from the old glass case, and cringing as it shatered upon slipping to the floor, I lifted the sword off of the stand, turning it over in my hooves. I furrowed my brow, opening my mouth and tilting my head a little. “Ehm… Crap.” Tilting my head again, I bit down and gave the sword some test swings. I spit the sword out back onto the display, rubbing the back of my neck a little. “Well, this thing is clearly wasn’t made for ponies, the blade’s gotta be at least twice a heavy as the hilt.”
Night Strike picked it up in her hooves, feeling the weight of it and seeming to try and balance it a little. She spread her wings, flapping them and hovering in the air, looking down at the sword in quiet contemplation for a moment. She gripped the blade, swinging it in the air a few times, a grin spreading across her face. “Well, I might be able to use it.”
I snorted a little, my own mouth curling up into a slightly condescending smirk. “Oh, please, you’d be likely to end up chopping off your own legs with it. It’d be like if you told me to disarm a bomb.” Night Strike gently lowered herself back to the ground, giving a laugh and a look of disbelief. She trotted back around the side of the display, walking with the sword like a cane.
“Pfft, c'mon Sparky, it’s a sharp piece of metal with fancy detailing and a nice electric kick, how hard could it be to use?” I shook my head, the smirk on my face growing a little wider. We began to make our way back towards the lobby, Night Strike rolling her eyes again. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure learning how to swing a sword around is soooo hard.” We stepped down the stone staircase into the lobby, the sun shining in through the dusty skylights and illuminating the places where the dust was disturbed by our presence. I squinted my eyes a little, still wearing my smug smirk, glancing at the pegasus as she tried handling the blade again. I trotted over to my umbrella, flipping it up and grabbing it in my mouth.
“Alright then, let’s try it out, if you think it's so easy.” I said, around the metal handle. Night Strike raised her eyebrow, that short chortle from her proving she's clearly not taking me seriously. “Hey, you said it’s not hard, let’s see if you can actually back that claim up. Umbrella versus sword.” Night Strike’s face became a little smug. She braced herself, spreading her wings out. I bit down a little harder on the umbrella, the prongs on the end crackling slightly.
“Don’t be upset if I end up cutting off your ear, then.” Night Strike leapt up into the air, zipping around behind me. I stepped to the side to keep myself facing Night Strike. She dived down, pulling the sword up, about to swing it. I jumped to the side, ducking a little as the blade came down beside me. I twisted my head, deflecting the sword. Night Strike wavered, flapping her wings and spinning in the air to reorient herself.
She shook her head, shifting the sword in her hooves a little, loking at myself. She flew in for another dive, this time attempting to slice horizontally. I slipped down beneath her, flipping my umbrella upwards. Night Strike’s eyes widened, aware of what she’d done a second too late. I jabbed upwards, my umbrella connecting with one of her hind legs. Night Strike fell to the floor into a clump, the sword spinning away on the hardwood floor. She coughed, shakily getting back up onto her hooves. “Now, you sure you really want to try using that thing on somepony with a rifle?” I asked smugly, leaning on my umbrella a little.
“Nnfh, yeah, yeah, I get your point.” Night Strike coughed, smoothing out her frazzled mane. She trotted over to pick up the sword before turning back over to me. “I wasn’t trying that hard, though, I didn’t want to end up stabbing you. Gotta have somepony to keep me from blowing myself up, right?” I rolled my eyes again, trotting back over to her.
“Suuuure, and I’m planning on giving away all the caps we’ve made to charity so I can go and live alone in the mountains.” Night Strike stuck out her tongue at me playfully and I returned it. Letting off a small sigh, she sat down on one of the benches, leaning the sword beside herself. She looked down at her Pip-Buck, flipping over to the clock, a small chuff of air coming from her nose, unsure of what to do next. “We still got a lot of time, I take it?” Night Strike nodded, leaning back on the cushioned bench. I looked around the lobby, half wondering if there were something else in the museum worth checking out. As for the other half... “Well, I could always teach you some stuff.”
Night Strike shrugged, standing back up. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. So long as you promise to keep the quips to a minimum.” I grinned and trotted to the center of the room, Night Strike standing beside me. I stood up on my hind legs, holding my umbrella out. After a moment of thought, Night Strike did the same, using her wings to help stabilize herself. I fell back onto all fours, trotting around Night Strike as she help her pose.
“Don’t hold the sword out too flat, you’re using too much of your lower leg muscles, they’re not nearly as strong as your flanks.” I suggested, helping to correct her stance. “You want to use your gut to swing if you’re holding it in your hooves.” I tilted my head a little, grimacing slightly. “This would be a little easier if that sword wasn’t weighted the way it is. Damned pre-war Gryphons...” I muttered. Night Strike wobbled a bit, trying her best to keep her balance, myself thinking quietly for a moment. “Suppose we’ll just have to get you used to this first.” Night Strike looked a little flabbergasted as I walked back and sat down on a bench, her mouth making some noises in disbelief for a few moments before looking back at me.
“You’re not actually going to make me just stand here for an hour, are you?” I simply flicked the switch on my Pip-Buck, searching for KAOS. Night Strike grimaced and glared at me, shifting her legs as the weight of the sword was already putting strain on her. “You can be a real jerk, you know.”
I smirked in response, finding the station. “Good morning North Vanhoover, you're listening to Radio KAOS, and we've got quite a few guests here today for the program. In case you missed it yesterday, the Vanhoover Five happened to stop in to give us here those interviews I've asked for previously - glad to know they actually do listen to my station, heh. Due to… structural limitations, we could only get two of the five interviewed last night, but we’ve got the other three right here today. So, without further ado, how’re you folks doing today?”
“Aye, was there really no bigger place t' set up the studio'n this ship?” Scouring Charge grunted. The DJ gave a slightly embarrassed laugh, and the sound of scraping metal could be heard. There was a short pause, before he moved to ask for their names. “Ah, I’m Scourin' Charge, the other power armored mare 'ere is Crash Dive, an’ the one you can’t hear is Aerith.” The faint sound of magic flowing could be heard, Crash Dive giving a sigh through her speaker.
“Uh, thanks for the greeting, but unfortunately I don’t think our visitors are going to be able to read magic signs over the airwaves. Ahm, sorry.” Boy, this interview sure was off to a great start, wasn't it? “Ahm, anyways, where’re you from? How’d you end up joining up with those two from up north?” There was a silence before Scouring spoke up again.
“Well, I was just wandrin' 'round near Hopeville after I got separated from my Steel Ranger comp'ny. Just decided to tag along, really, didn't have much else doin' at the time. Aerith here, the one that can’t talk, as you know already she was one of the slaves from that camp in the old military bunkers on the coast, the one we saw to sending off with a bang, heh. Can't be sure who she was before the dipping, but she’s rather pleasant now. Will say it's a good thing she was one of the lucky ones not nearby when the Goddess was killed by th' Lightbringer. Can't say I know too much about Crash Dive 'ere, though. Isn’t much one for talking.”
Night Strike wobbled in place, shifting on her hooves and trying to keep the sword parallel with the floor. “Night Strike and Static crashed down near my house in their aircraft.” Crash Dive said over the air, flatly. “I'm not exactly a fan of all the attention it wound up drawing, to put it lightly. I’m helping them look for what they need to fix up the Valkyrie, anything else we’ve been doing has mostly been their ideas.”
“Ah, well, hopefully you’re able to find what you need soon, then.” Releasing a small chuckle, the DJ paused. “Actually, now I think of it, it probably wouldn’t hurt for you guys to try heading up north to Maple Station. There used to be some old coal mines up that way, maybe they’ve got some old generators left over from before the war. Other than that, there's always...” I glanced up from poking at the dead radscorpion to see Night Strike leaning on the sword, rubbing one of her legs. She looked over to see me, giving a nervous grin. I raised an eyebrow and she grumbled, lifting the sword back up again. I focused back on the broadcast. “…so any of you up at Maple Creek should keep an eye open for the Vanhoover Five, they might be stopping by in the near future! Oh, and don’t forget to visit the Stiff Drink while you’re up there, they’ve got some of the best entertainment outside of Vanhoover.”
I flicked the radio off, trotting over to Night Strike, seeing her face scrunched up slightly. “Alright, alright, you can stop.” She dropped the sword, letting it clatter to the ground as she flopped onto all four legs with a loud huff, her front ones shaking a little. “Jeez, don’t break it! We just got it, for Celestia's sake...” I lifted up the sword, inspecting the blade for any damages, thankfully finding none. Huh, really nice build quality on this thing. “You’re going to have to get used to this thing’s weight at some point, though. Otherwise you’ll end up getting exhausted mid battle.”
Night Strike took the sword and slung it over her back, giving her head a shake. “I think I’ll stick to Thumper for now, at least I just need to point that thing. No stupid flailing and hacking and whacking and crap. You sure you don’t want it?” I shook my head a little and began to walk towards the door that opened into the square.
“No, I’m going to break my neck if I try swinging that around for more than two minutes. Besides, I do still want to try and keep casualties to a minimum… even if that’s a little hard wandering around with you.” She smirked as we stepped outside, the sun high above us. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, the Island mostly silent otherwise. “Come on, I think they’ll be done with their interview soon, we can meet them partway down the road.” We began to walk down the broken stone towards the pier, the road twisting its way through the rocky hills of the island.
---
"You're listening to Radio KAOS, it's a beautiful Vanhoover day, and my little island has five rather well-known visitors on it, heh. Last three of the vanhoover Five just wrapped up their interviews, but don't worry if you missed it, because I remembered to have the recording equipment set up today. I'll be playing it again later tonight, and possibly seeing if I can't convince the first two to come back in so I can have some recorded material to play back for you. Don't want to have them retell their story entirely, but it's something you have to hear to believe.
"As Crash Dive again reiterated from last night, the first two's aircraft, the Valkyrie, crash-landed in a live minefield, and that they did find the remains of somepony who didn't know what to look for when going near it. Please, for the sake fo your lives, don't seek out information about the Valkyrie - if they want us to know, they'd tell us, and they've been pretty forthcoming so far.
"You're tuned into K A O S, KAOS in Vanhoover, and I've got a lovely little selection of music for you all here today. Hopeville, Maple Creek, you're the ones with all the guns, let's hope you can tell an actual threat from Ninety Nine Red Balloons, heh. Enjoy."
-----
The sun shone high above as we made way back towards the docks, the crisp breeze off of the ocean rustling the overgrown vegetation and carrying with it the salty smell. A smell which, thankfully, can't detract from the taste of Sparkle-Cola RAD. Adjusting myself a little, the awkward sword seemed to try to balance itself on my back, Static glancing at it every now and again as I took healthy gulps of the faintly glowing blue soda. "Mmh, you keep looking at it, are you sure you don't want it?"
"I'm sure. Like I said, it's not weighted for a pony, if I tried using it for too long I'd probably sprain my neck." He let out a small huff in contemplation, looking over the sword for a moment, then back to me. "I just don't know if you'd actually be able to use it effectively, either. I mean, it was made for gryphons, and making it pony-usable seems like it'd seriously lower the resale value of it." Giving the earth pony a quick glare, I let out a long sigh and gave my eyes a roll, shaking my head. You've got a price tag above everything, don't you? "What? If you won't wind up using it, it'd at least be worthwhile to sell it to someone who can!"
"I'll figure out some way to use it, have some faith in me, Sparky. I dunno... maybe I don't swing it, just have it in my mouth and fly at them with it, that could work, right?" Passing on a shrug and taking another gulp of soda, he seemed to start chuckling, before tapping a hoof against his chin. It's probably a sharp enough blade, and I weigh a good ten stone, I think, I get in a dive with it and bad guy number 553 doesn't have a head anymore! Could probably have Thumper out too, just to derp ponies in the face while I'm gaining altitude... Static let out a small huff, looking at the road ahead and listening to the breeze again.
"I guess. Kind of undermines the fact that it's a close-range melee weapon, though, and if you don't come at them fast enough you could get the blade lodged in something and probably sprain your neck that way." Okay, gotta have speed and a good grip, that I can do. Whole lot easier to comprehend than just standing on my hind legs with this thing stuck out in the air like some kind of modern art piece - why'd he have me do that anyways, to 'get used to the weight' or something? It's a sharp piece of metal, keep the thin end pointed at the target and bring it in fast, it's not exactly nuclear reactor surgery.
"Isn't this thing electrified, or something? If I get it lodged, it'll at least incapacitate the thing I got it lodged into. The kind of jolt your umbrella gives when it hits someone sure seems nasty enough to do the job, and that thing isn't designed to kill 'em." Okay, so it doesn't take away the fact that I'd have a sprained neck in that case, but it'd still work. Gulping down the last bit of soda that was in the bottle, I peered down into the empty glass container, a litle disheartened. Stupid small bottles, why didn't they make these things bigger? A loud growl erupted from somewhere as I tried to see if there was any sneaky soda trying to gimp me out of it's tantilizing irradiated taste, myself looking over to Static.
"Before you say anything, that was -not- my stomach... even though I am hungry." Letting out a sigh, I set down the bottle, both of us looking around and trying to suss out where the growl came from. Didn't sound like a hellhound, and I kinda doubt there'd just be one if it were a hellhound. And... oh, crap. I left Thumper on the half-track. This'll get interesting... the growl - kind of starting to sound more like a roar now - filled the air again, and I hurried myself over beside Static, reaching over my shoulder with my mouth and grabbing the red cloth of the handle. Oh, okay, do kinda see what he means about it being weighted funky. He blunk in surprise, looking at myself with the sword in my mouth. "What, don't you have Thumper with... o-ho-ho crap."
Proceeding down the road just a few more steps, a sudden rustling from the forest prompted us both to freeze, staring in the general direction it came from. This is General Night Strike to missile command, we're at threat level brown, ready the washing machines. After a few more moments of something thrashing in the forest, a big, fat, white-furred bear stumbled it's way out into the road ahead, both of us just staring at it. It sniffed at the air, looking around in what seemed like confusion for a moment, before catching us in it's big black eyes. All hands, all hands, code brown is in effect, code brown is in full effect!
It let out a long roar, Static slowly lifting a hoof and resting it against my shoulder, staring it down with me. "When I say, fly up and do that thing you said might work. Got it?" Answering him with a small, quick nod, the white bear kept its eyes on us, letting off another roar and takng a step in our direction. We're on full brown alert captain, DEFBROWN 1! The earth pony beside me adjusted himself slightly, turning his head back slowly to grab for his own umbrella, eyes still on the bear. "Now!"
With a quick smack on my shoulder, Static grabbed his umbrella and swung it out, popping it open to it's full size. The bear seemed to flinch as he did, myself already high airborne, trying to not slice my own left wing up on the fancy sword. Okay Strikey, just like you thought you could do it, let's see if it's plausible. Flipping myself around from my ascent, the white form of the bear was moving towards Static and gaining speed, the silver-maned earth pony starting to turn tail and run. Yeah, no pressure, just cut it anywhere and the electricity will do the rest. Snapping my wings to my sides, I darted down towards the bear, pulling myself up ever so slightly to keep on target with it's neck. Turning my head to the right to put the blade forward, I closed my eyes, the ground so much closer than I'd really like it to be right now. Oh, not the face.
There was a sudden jerk as I felt myself thrown to the side, the bear letting loose a sick gurgling noise as it's body spazzed about, claws involuntarily scraping at the cobblestone road with the gold handle of the sword sticking out of it's neck like some weird piercing. Its head half-flopped forwards, a spray of blood spurting from the neck and staining it's white fur, myself pushing backwards away from the electrified carcass. After a few moments of watching it jerk around like an overdosed raider, it finally decided to fall limp, myself breathing heavily and laying on the road. Okay... effective, to say the least.
Picking myself up to my hooves, Static trotted up beside me, looking over the bear carcass. Oh, gotta hate that post-adrenaline exhaustion... and pain reception. Goddess-damnit, that's the same shoulder I shoved Crash Dive with. The earth pony looked over the neat cut, letting off a sigh inbetween gasps for air. "I... I told you, I told you it'd get jammed."
"Oh, fuck off. It fried that thing with the electricity afterwards, just like I told you. Ow..." Rubbing at my shoulder - stupid laws of physics - I sat back down in the road, the earth pony trotting forth and pulling the sword from the bear's neck. Eeeehehehew, that's not a pleasant squelchy noise... not that there are really many pleasant squelchy noises to begin with. Fresh liquid crimson dripped from the blade, Static shuddering and hurriedly rushing over to pass the sword off to me, then proceeding to the other side of the road and promptly depositing whatever he had in his stomach there. Grimacing as he spat the last of the bile out, I turned my attention back to the sword, a small trail of blood left behind as it dripped into the dirt. "So, um... how do we clean this off?"
The earth pony gave another quick shudder, rubbing at his mouth with a sleeve and looking down at the stained blade with me. "Well... take a rag and wipe it off, I guess." He gave a small shrug, myself letting off huff. Looking down at it for a moment more, I turned my attention to the dead bear laying in the road, thinking for a moment. Well, don't have any rags, and I don't want to have to explain bloodstains like this'd leave to Dad, so... Picking up the handle in my hoof, the tip dragged across the ground slightly as I made way over to the carcass. Taking a step back, I steadied myself as the blade came up past my head, myself laying it flat against the white fur and wiping it off. Sorry buddy, better your clothes get stained like this than mine.
The sword mostly wiped clean and resting on my back, the both of us started off again towards the docks, met with a distant rumbling noise. Ah, joy, what now? Static drew his umbrella out as the rumble drew closer, soon enough revealing itself to be a miniaturized half-track hauling a small cart with two power armored ponies inside, the mute driver giving us a wave as they approached. Oh, thank Celestia we won't have to keep walking, that shoulder is starting to kill me. Aerith pulled the mini-tank up alongside us, Crash Dive hopping out of the wagon on the back and looking past us at the bear carcass. That... was another look I don't think I've seen on her face before. "What in Tartarus is a polar bear doing all the way down here!?"
"Figuring us for lunch, that's what... polar bear?" Static scratched at his head, Crash Dive looking back at us both, myself gingerly rubbing at my shoulder. Guh... some Sparkle-Cola should take my mind off of it. Climbing up onto the back of the mini-tank, I rustled through my duffel bag, pulling out another of the beautifully blue glowing bottles and popping the cap with a refreshing hiss of carbonation. Oh, sweet sweet nectar of the goddesses, get inside me. Gasping for breath after gulping down half a bottle - seriously, if there's one thing I'd change in the pre-war past, bigger standard soda bottles - Static and Aerith switched places, the alicorn following with Crash Dive onto the wagon as the earth pony revved the engine, starting to turn us back around.
"The guy who brought us here said he'd be coming back to the island soon to pick us up, we going to head off or hang around so you and Static can give that DJ his recorded interview?" Crash Dive leaned over the back of the wagon as we sped along, her helmet's visor keeping the wind from her eyes. Hadn't thought of that... hm... well, Ripple and Trout seem like they can get here fast enough, and I'm sure there's still more to learn and look at here. Maybe a few other new toys like the sword somewhere, too, and it's not really fair to give Maple Creek a new AA mount without giving Hopeville one - even if they kinda suck at using them. And if Jim wants a recorded interview anyways, might as well.
"Ah, something like the second one, when we get back to the ship we'll take off another one of the anti-air mounts and send it back on Trout." I could almost see Crash Dive blinking in surprise behind her visor, her jaw hung slack. She moved to protest, only to end up letting out a huff instead. Finishing off the bottle of Sparkle-Cola, I looked back to her with a shrug. "What? Jim said we could take as many as we wanted, and Static's going to be getting us a pretty mint for each one. We'll just get this one over then head back ourselves, bring one to Hopeville and keep the second in Maple Creek. Said it yourself, they need all the help they can get."
The power armored pegasus was silent for a long moment, before letting a sigh escape her lips. Hey, see, I can use logic sometimes! Letting out a small triumphant chuckle, the large form of the HMS Cadence came into view down by the shore, a much smaller fishing boat pulled up aside the dock at it's bow, Trout looking almost comically puny compared to the Heavy Cruiser. An armored hoof tapped my shoulder, drawing my attention back from the sight, eyes meeting Crash Dive's again. "Just... just promise me we'll go back soon. If I'm right about who's piloting the Harriers... letting them know where I'll be, it's not going to be good if they try and attack us again." She glanced up at the sky, seeming to scan it for a moment as the breeze picked up and rustled the trees around. "They're not stupid. If they're going to come after us, they'll do it with everything they have."
"So... we'll just have to give all we've got, too. Five of us against three of them, if they do what that first guy did we'll be able to take them out easy, right?" Answering Crash Dive with a small shrug, I rested against Boomer's handle, the cool breeze from the motion of the half-track whipping my mane and tail around. Hell, now I think of it if a length of rebar causes one of those things to explode into a fireball, I'd sure like to know what a solar burst grenade would do to 'em. Crash Dive let out a small sigh, turning herself to lean against the side of the cart, looking at the floor of it.
"I don't know."
---
"You gotta be kidding me. I had enough trouble getting the first one off when I docked Trout up in Maple Creek yesterday, and now you want me to bring another one back!?" To say Ripple wasn't too keen on the idea of using Trout in the freight ferry service would be an understatement. I scratched at the back of my head, letting out a weak chuckle as the sailor glared down at us, Static stepping forward. Ripple's view swapped over to him, the old sailor letting out a small huff. "You go an' deck Trout out in all these fancy guns, then you use 'er as a bloody freight ferry. Hope you're aware that I only made that offer for free rides assuming you'd be riding on 'er in the first place, want me to make another shipment, I expect some bloody payment for it."
"I'll ensure you get reimbursed for your services handsomely. These guns are well worth their weight in gold from my understanding of it - wouldn't you say it'd be bad for you if Trout wound up getting hit by one of the thousand-pound thermobaric bombs those hostile air craft have at their disposal? You can't operate the guns and operate her at the same time, after all." Wow, going straight for the jugular there Static, you sure you're a pacifist? The anger that was in Ripple's eyes was quickly replaced with a sober look - huh, so that's what it looks like on his face - a dry swallow going down his throat as Static looked over the rest of us. "How soon can you be back after dropping it off in Maple Creek?"
"U-uh... right around sunset, maybe a little later dependin' on the tide." The silver-maned earth pony gave Ripple a small nod in response, turning about and troting back to the half-track, hefting himself into the driver's seat and starting up the engine. Ripple weakly trotted himself over to lean against the rear 37mm gun turret, myself hovering over and setting down behind Boomer. As the engine revved and we started to turn around on the dock, Ripple rushed back over to the side of Trout, waving a hoof at us. "A-are you sure these guns are good enough to protect Trout from those... things?"
Static looked towards myself, the mini-tank's engine purring underneath me. What, just because I go gaga over big guns doesn't mean I know EVERYTHING about them... just a lot of stuff. Looking back to Ripple, I gave a shrug, nodding back at the HMS Cadence. "If these guns weren't good for aerial defense, we wouldn't be pulling them off of a pre-war Heavy Cruiser in the first place. You don't have anything to worry about, long as somepony's there to operate them." Ripple looked up at the massive warship beside him, his shoulders slumping slightly and a sigh escaping his lips. Giving us a nod, he turned and went back down below deck, Static revving the engine and bringing us back onto the concrete pier, speeding along to Cadence's stairway.
Pulling up alongside the long steel walkway, the increasingly familiar face of White Noise greeted us, the stallion waving with a smile on his muzzle as we pulled up. "Welcome back, nice to see the whole Five back here again. You here to give Jim his recorded interview?" Climbing off of the mini-tank, we all followed behind as White Noise headed back inside the ship. Oh joy, back into the maze...
"We're, um, we're also here to get another anti-air gun mount off, going to be staying for a little while longer, eheh." Static rubbed at the back of his head as White Noise looked back at us, giving a nod. Why in the name of the Royal Equestrian Ordinance works did we have to go down to reach the upper decks!? It's like these ships were designed by unicorns... which kind of makes some sense. Stupid unicorns with their stupid magic and stupid teleportation ability... "Figured Aerith, Scouring, and Crash Dive could see to getting the mount off while we gave the recorded interview."
"I think we can do that. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes, we just want something to play back, give the people of North Vanhoover who haven't had a chance to meet or hear you yet know your voices. Unfortunately not everyone can be near a radio all hours of the day... lucky bastards..." White Noise let off a small grumble as we finally started nearing more familiar territory, the rest breaking off to retrieve the second AA mount while myself and Static were led up to the recording studio once again, Jim hanging back and taking a sip from a Sunrise Sarsaparilla bottle. That better be holding whiskey... "Sir? Night Strike and Static Charge, here for the recorded interview."
"Ah, wonderful, glad you could make it. Either of you thirsty? I, uh, think I've got another bottle or two in here..." Static wore a weak smile, looking particularly eager to have something to drink after what's happened today, myself wheeling over the chairs. Wearing a small scowl, I let myself fall back into one of them near the microphone, Static doing the same as Jim looked to myself, another brown bottle in his hoof.
"Ahm, sorry, I only drink Sparkle-Cola, not that sludge. Can't stand the stuff." The DJ blunk a few times before returning a shrug, fiddling with some of the equipment and popping a fresh holotape inside a deck. Settling back in the chair, I caught Static rolling his eyes and gulping down the bottle of brownish soda. Gasping for breath after finishing his gulp, he let off a chuckle, Jim moving a microphone between us both.
"I personally subscribe to the theory that your blood is at least half Sparkle-Cola RAD by this point, Strikey. Her fathers are addicted to it, found a distribution depot loaded with the stuff in Quebuck. Heh, there's actually a really funny story about the time she found where they were keeping the majority of it, how thick did Cross Stitch have to make that padding you wore so it'd stop glowing when you woke up in the morning?" Well, that certainly got Jim's attention back to us, at the very least. For the better, because I didn't want to smash that earth pony's face into these fancy consoles with somepony watching. Gritting my teeth - and thanking Celestia and Luna above the 'On Air' sign wasn't illuminated - I glared death at Static, reaching over and grabbing him by his jacket.
"You broadcast that story to -any- wasteland, and you'll wish I didn't kill that polar bear for you." The earth pony coughed slightly, rubbing some of the spilled soda from his mouth as I released him from my grip, sitting back in my chair. Really don't need the entire friggin' wasteland knowing one of their saviors had to... wear that, for a week. Jim looked between us both, a certain confused look on his face, fitting on a pair of headphones.
"Right... I'm not gonna ask." Turning back to the console, the DJ flicked a few switches and moved a few sliders, the light behind the translucent 'On Air' sign coming on a moment later, the sound of a song fading out filling the air. Static rubbed at the bits of soda he'd spilled on his jacket - huh, okay, so that stuff isn't as acidic as I'd thought - and the sound of a holotape recorder quietly whirring to life filled the air, the DJ clearing his throat before flipping another switch.
"You're tuned into K A O S, KAOS in Vanhoover, and we've got some familiar faces back in the studio for a second interview. For those who missed it all of last night and this morning, somehow, the Vanhoover Five have decided to pay a visit to my little slice of heaven over here on the HMS Cadence. We had the company of Aerith, Crash Dive, and Scouring Charge here earlier today, and now with me we've got Static Charge and Night Strike - no relation to Scouring in Static's case, heh. Gotta love Equestria's naming conventions. So, moving on, my assistant let me know that the boat you came over here on stopped by just a few minutes before you came up here, you all going to be heading off right after this second one's over?"
"Ahm, no, actually, we're working on getting another of the anti-air gun mounts off and shipped back to Maple Creek, the rest are on the deck unbolting it right now. Going to be sticking around until sunset, we think." Static scratched at the back of his head as Jim nodded, glancing over to the recording deck. Don't worry, looks like you got it turned on this time, I think... I was never good with electrics. The red light's blinking, I'm assuming it's recording. "One's to be set up in Maple Creek, the other's going up in Hopeville. We'll, um, we'll see to everything getting set up and handled right tomorrow when we pass through... kind of hope that some of the bridges we have to go over can hold six tons..."
"Heh, for your sake and the sake of Hopeville, I sure hope they can, too. Worst case scneario, you can just have Aerith carry it over for you, can't ya?" Static blunk a few times, looking towards me. I responded with a shrug - I guess she can do it crossing a river, she flew the things to Trout from Cadence's deck just fine the first time. Oh, she'll probably need another strontium-90-laced pick-me-up after we finish... "Anyways, there you go Maple Creek, here's hoping you can put that brand-spankin'-new forty mil AA gun to use, courtesy of the Vanhoover Five and us here in Radio KAOS. You five have really made a name for yourself since you've shown up, especially considering how far away from home you are down here. Where'd you say you two were from again?"
"Way up north, um, past Yakyakistan I think you mentioned, a frozen and irradiated place we just call the North Equestrian Wasteland. Static's from Mooscow, and I live in Turnpike, both of us with our fathers." Letting out a small chuckle, I leaned forwards a little in the chair, catching Jim's expression. Eh... might as well, don't have much to lose from it. "Before you ask, no, we don't really have, um, moms. I don't know the specifics, I don't want to know the specifics, I just know that if I had a DNA test you'd get matches with my dad Twintails and my other dad Featherweight, and if Static had one you'd get matches with his dad Minty Candy and his other dad Cross Stitch. And a half-sister named Sugar Flare... don't ask."
Sitting back, the DJ wore a dumbfounded expression, one that drew a chuckle from myself before the sensation of a thousand nerve engings screaming out in pain met my brain, a blue-coated hoof impacting firmly against the shoulder that I'd managed to forget was killing me. Releasing a small yelp before stuffing the leeve of my jacket into my mouth, I leaned over away from the microphone, holding my shoulder with my other hoof. Goddess-damnit Static! "Sorry about that, we, um, we generally don't talk about her. She's a bit on the 'completely batshit creepy' side of things."
"Eheh, everyone's got that one family member, don't they? Well, I certainly hope that you'll be able to meet up with them all again sooner or later. Color me curious, just because I'd like some more background about you two, what do your fathers do? Don't suppose being wasteland saints run in the family, does it?" Jim let off a chuckle as I tried to regain myself, sitting back up in the chair and letting out a breath through grimaced teeth. Stupid earth ponies with their stupid strength... Static looked over at me smugly for a moment, before tapping a hoof against his chin and thinking.
"You're actually not that far off from being right with that, I guess. Minty and Twintails prety much saved all of Equestria from some crazy guy with a cannon that shoots megaspell warheads, if I remember that old story correctly. I've seen the crater it left behind after they blew it to the moon, can't really deny it being true with evidence like that." Sheesh, we were making that poor DJ have that expression a lot whenever we come up here for the interviews. "Nowadays though, um, Minty pretty much just stays in Mooscow with myself and Cross Stitch at Cross' seamster shop, delivering clothes and fixing computers every now and again. Twenty years on, his old robotic leg's been showing it's age, can't really afford to go traipsing around the wasteland anymore... ahm, he lost it a while after he came out of his Stable. Think that was your dad's fault, wasn't it, Night Strike?"
"Eheh, no, Minty was the one who stepped on the landmine, Sparky. Twintails helped make sure he didn't die in that blizzard after it happened. Think they were traveling together for a few days by that point... Twintails was raised in a Stable nearby Minty's, they met up a little while after they came out. What he does nowadays, he drives around the wasteland in the TOG, pretty much the family tank. Along with Featherweight, they just help ponies in need, blow the shit outta raider camps that pop up every now and again, usual stuff. I sometimes help by working the gun... heh, you've never heard beauty until you've heard a 17-pounder Royal Equestrian Ordinance tank gun go off beside you."
Jim was struck silent for a long moment, looking over us both in quiet disbelief, the recorder still recording the deafening silence. Stammering quickly, the DJ soon caught up with himself, moving back to the microphone. "A-ah, sorry about that, was just trying to process all that. There you have it, folks, two of the Vanhoover Five are the offspring of their own wasteland's heroes, it'd seem. I guess being wasteland saints can run in the family... ahm, anyways, that's all the time we have for now, looks like it's going to be another pleasant Vanhoover day out, and the weather ought to stay this way for a few more days, so enjoy it while you can. You're listening to Radio KAOS, and why don't we get some music going for you during this pleasant lunchtime. Here's Vera Lynn singing about those beautiful bluebirds over the white cliffs, enjoy."
The holotape recorder stopped as the DJ fiddled with the console, slumping back into his chair afterwards and running a hoof over his head. "Boy... you two're just full of surprises, aren't you? I mean, damn..." Sliding off of the chair, both Static and myself made way for the exit, moving the chairs back. Static's stomach growled - okay, future reference, that's what that sounds like - as we stepped through, the DJ clearing his throat. "Ah, what time is it?" Both of us blunk at each other and Jim, myself pushing the baggy sleeve of my jacket back to look at my pip-buck.
"Um, around half past one, why?" The DJ let off a sigh and quiet thanks to the goddesses, wheeling back over and opening up the mini-fridge by his desk, pulling out a bottle of a rich amber liquid. Wild Pegasus, if I remember right... Yeesh, I don't think I can even drink Sparkle-Cola that fast. He gasped for breath, setting the bottle on the table in front of the soundboard, rubbing at his head. Looking over to us, he cleared his throat, sitting up and letting off a weak chuckle.
"W-what, it's quarter to midnight somewhere."
---
"Aye, I'll be back around seven or eight, bit past sunset. You promise this is the last one o' these guns I gotta carry on Trout?" The small boat sank down in the water slightly as the large gun turret was set on her deck, Ripple resting against the railing between two of the steampipe guns and watching the unicorns handle it. I gave a quick glance to Static, the immense magical field that was around the turret dispersing and leaving it's full weight onboard Trout.
"Unless we find a reason to get another gun or two off, yep, this is it for now. Thanks for doing this for us, Ripple, couldn't have done it without you and Trout." Passing on a smile, the old stallion returned it, trotting inside the cabin and firing up Trout's engine. We moved onto the mini-tank and wagon ourselves, Aerith and Scouring seeing to Trout getting unmoored from the dock, Ripple opening up one of the cabin windows and leaning out of it.
"Aye, you better keep true to what you said 'bout repayin' me fer this, expect to get somethin' once you come'n sell these off shoreside!" The small boat pulled back into open waters, turning it's back to the right before starting to head towards the mainland. Static wore a small grimace as he nodded and waved to the ship, Ripple and Trout disappearing behind the massive form of the HMS Cadence as the mini-tank's engine purred to life. Turning us back around, we were soon back on the concrete docks of the island, moving along at a slow pace. A loud growl came from ahead, putting me into a small bit of panic - at least, until I saw Static releasing a small chuckle.
"Eheheh... anyone else hungry for lunch?"
-----
“Where are we even going to get food, anyways?” Night Strike asked as we trundled along the dock towards the island. “I don’t remember seeing any stands back up by the museum, unless you’re suggesting we slice open that bear and cook it up.” I turned off of the dock, starting to travel along the sandy shores of the island. The treads rolled and dug into the sand, the engine dying down as I pulled up to a small cluster of large rocks and switched the small engine off.
“I figured we could go fishing, spotted this place when we were back up aboard the ship, looks like a good spot.” I hopped out of the mini tank, my hooves sinking into the sand slightly, some grains getting into my jacket's sleeves. Oh, that's gonna itch after a while. Pausing to think for a moment, I scratched at the back of my head, letting off a weak chuckle. “Eheh, though I suppose we’ll need to find some fishing equipment...” Crash Dive opened up one of the compartments of the mini tank, fishing around inside before producing two poles and a small box. Oh, well, problem solved.
“Stashed these on here last time we were at the lighthouse, figured it wouldn’t hurt to have them for emergencies again. Or if I just needed something to do while you do whatever you have to.” She handed me one of the poles, both of us trotting over to the rocks as the others climbed out of the mini-tank. I clambered up onto one of the large rocks sitting just at the edge of the lapping waves, taking a hold of the pole. Alright, let’s see if I can cast this without getting the hook stuck in somepony’s neck. I pulled the pole back before flicking it forwards, the hook sailing out into the sea. Crash Dive cast out beside me as Aerith sat down on the sand, letting the waves roll over and cool off her legs.
“Say, Scouring, I don’t think I’ve ever asked, what exactly do the Steel Rangers up here do? The ones back home do a bit of work helping to clean up the wasteland now, but I heard that a lot of the other branches aren’t as hospitable.” Scouring sat down in the sand as well, Night Strike hopping between the stones in the sand, making her way further along the shore.
Scouring looked over to me, pausing to think for amoment before letting out a small huff and leaning back. “Not all that much, really. At least, we aren’t really sent out to help with the locals. Elder’s been pretty strict on recovering technology, it’s just there really isn’t that much valuable stuff still located here. At least, none that we knew about at the time.” He shifted a little, pulling a salt cube out of a pocket in his suit and popping it into his mouth. “Have half an idea, but I’m not completely sure why we’re still stationed here. Probably something in the Codex about not abandoning posts if there’s still a slight chance of tech being found.” He shook his head a little as Crash Dive felt a tug on her pole, starting to reel it in. “B Company, we're the place knights get sent when the high command just doesn't want to deal with us. Had to hazard a better guess why I'm still 'round this part of wasteland, the paladins in their fancy robes back home figured there's nothin' for our group to find.”
Crash Dive tugged on her fishing pole, the line straining as she reeled it in. A small fish was soon flopping on the sand beside her, gasping for breath. Crash Dive removed the hook from its mouth and tossed it onto the sand behind her, letting it flop around, trying to find its way back to the water. Watching it writhe for a moment - come on, Crash Dive, show some mercy to the things - I turned to look at the alicorn lazily splashing about, catching her attention as I cleared my throat. “Ahm, Aerith, think you and Night Strike could go grab some wood for a fire?” She nodded, shaking her wings dry before hovering along the beach, both her and the Jacket-clad pegasus returning a moment later. Night Strike hovered over to the tank to grab Thumper as Aerith pulled out her machine gun, both of them trotting into the woods in search of firewood. I turned back to Scouring as Crash cast her line out again. “Where are the Rangers based around here, anyway?”
“Fairly far to th' north, east of Maple Station, along the coast. Used to be an old Stable there in the mountains, but that one ended about as well as the other ones did.” Hey, they weren’t all bad! At least it wasn’t the experiments that ended up getting my dads’ stable destroyed. “Think it was something to do with a leopard or a lion or somethin’. Made a hell of a mess with the bodies, but most of the other stuff kept working fine, so the first scouts out here just called in help to scrub the place down. Stable 95, though it’s officially known as the Mountain Springs branch.”
I felt a tug on my fishing pole. I jerked the wire, starting to crank the reel. The line moved back and forth in the water, whatever was on the line putting up a big fight. I yanked again on the pole, reeling the line in a little more. Crash watched as a shadow could be seen underneath the water, her eyes widening a bit. The top of the pole was bending dangerously as I gave a final pull, an oversized crab being pulled up into the shallower water, its pincers flailing about as it tried to find the wire lodged in its eyestalk. Crash Dive stood up suddenly, jumping over to the mini tank and pulling out her harpoon gun. She took aim and fired, the bit of sharpened metal whizzing through the air before piercing the giant crab, causing it to flop into the shallow water, motionless. I chuckled a little, moving forward to untangle the line from the crab, carefully stepping over its large claw. “Think this’ll be enough?”
I took a hold of the rebar shaft, a bit of blood oozing out of the wound as I removed it. Bluh, yeah, hopefully this looks more appetizing when it’s actually cooked. I slid the pointed end of the steel rod back into the crab a little, trying to wiggle it between the hard shell and the soft flesh. The shell cracked sickeningly, revealing the pink meat beneath it. “Ech... either of you got a knife?” Scouring gave a quick nod, rummaging in the metal containers either side of his power armor for a moment before tossing a small jagged knife onto the sand beside me. I picked it up and began to carve up the giant crab.
“Ay, better you 'n me, lad.” Scouring chuckled as he saw my face twisted into a grimace as I cut out hunks of meat and tossed them onto the rocks. The sun sank into the sky as I sliced up the crab, several pounds of meat now sitting on the rocks beside us. I went to wash the knife off in the sea as Aerith and Night Strike returned, a large bundle of stick balanced on their backs.
“Sorry about taking so long, we found some giant rainwater outlet and Aerith wasn’t going to leave until we saw where it went. Remind me to never go exploring in a dark tunnel with her again.” Night Strike slid her sticks onto the ground, looking over to see the husk of the giant crab. “Sheesh, I guess we’ll be eating plenty tonight, nice catch!” She began to go to work building a small fire as I grabbed a couple of the sticks and skewered the hunks of meat. We soon had a small fire burning on the sand, the bits of crab slowly turning brown. My stomach growled again as the smell met my nose, causing me to blush as Night Strike snickered.
The fire crackled softly as we began to eat the crab, my growling stomach quieting down. “Mmh, so, just how bankrupt are you planning on making Hopeville and Maple Creek anyway with these guns?” Night Strike asked. I chewed on the slightly rubbery meat, skewering another mouthful and holding it over the fire.
“Well, each of those things should be worth about 500,000 caps apiece, they’re still in good condition and like you pointed out, they're electircally driven with those fancy targeting systems. Though I suppose we’ll need to get them some ammo for it or they’ll pretty much be paying for a very pricey amusement ride.” I swallowed the crab. “You think they still have some shells left on the ship?” Night Strike thought for a moment before giving a nod, and I looked back to my cooking meat, turning to keep it from burning on one side. “They can probably make some of the shells themselves too, we’ll only need a few so the guns are actually of use before they can start manufacturing their own. Maybe someplace in Vanhoover’s willing to make them.” I thought aloud.
“There were a few with them already when we pulled them off, but couldn't be more than a few reloads in those boxes, and these things are autocannons. I just hope Fowler back on the ship doesn’t try and keep them to himself as museum property or something, what good is an 8-inch shell if you can’t fire it due to 'historical posterity'?” Night Strike said, chomping down on some more crab. The sun was starting to set, the sky around it turning a vibrant mix of purples and oranges. “Mmh, suppose we better head back, though. Ripple should be docking soon.” We all stood up and climbed into the tank, the engine rumbling to life. The treads spun uselessly in the sand for a moment before catching, allowing me to turn us around and head back towards the docks.
My umbrella bounced against my hind legs a little as the small tank rolled over the sand before I turned back onto the road towards the dock. Ripple had yet to return, so I slowed the tank down in front of the HMS Cadence, Night Strike, Aerith and myself all hopping out. “We’ll see if we can get some ammo for the guns, just tell Ripple to wait out here if he gets here before we do.” Crash Dive gave a nod before climbing into the driver's seat, trundling the half-track and wagon closer to the edge of the dock, the other two following me inside the ship. Glancing around the entrance hallway, I scratched at my head - warship, right... “Uh, do you know where we actually might find the ammo?”
“There should be some sort of armory or hold in the lower bits of the ship, I think. If I were a ship designer, I'd put the big ammo under the water where it's less likely to get hit, and the smaller stuff somewhere the people on the anti-air guns could get to it fast.” We began to climb down the steep steps to the deeper parts of the ship, the hallways twisting and turning as we tried to locate the extra ammo. As we wandered down another unmarked corridor, Aerith tapped me on the shoulder, tilting her head towards an open door we’d passed. We trotted back to it, stepping through to reveal a large room filled to the brim with ammo and guns of all kinds. Jeez, how did we miss this? I trotted through, looking at the massive array of ordinance. Night Strike giggled and picked up a few grenades, turning them over in her hooves.
“So, erm, which of these shells are actually for those guns?” I asked, trotting down through the shelves of explosives. I don’t have the faintest clue how Night Strike can tell the difference between these things, they just look like different painted ones of the same thing, who knows what the payload is supposed to be. I looked back to see her ogling a large missile launcher, flicking one of the switches repeatedly. Ah, c'mon... “Night Strike, we’re just here for the shells, remember? I’d love to sell off half this stuff, but I think Fowler’s going to be mad enough if he finds the missing shells.”
Night Strike tore her gaze away from the missile launcher, looking back to me. “Huh, what?” She said, bemused. I put a hoof up to my head. “Sorry. Anyway, yeah, shells, forty millimeter MWT Bofors.” She trotted over to me, looking over the various different boxes of ammunition. “These one should be the right size.” She pointed to a few boxes of shells that looked a little bit shorter than Aerith's horn. I slid one of them off the shelf, needing to steady myself against another shelf due to its surprising weight.
Aerith’s magic encompassed the clip of ammunition, along with several others, levitating them in the air. As she levitated them by, some of the shells of a similar size that appeared much more technologically advanced than the others caught my attention. The tips of the shells shone with a faint blue light inside of Aerith’s aura. “What kind of shells are those?” Aerith lowered one of the clips, allowing Night Strike to inspect it better, carefully flipping the heavy thinga round and reaching in with a hoof to remove one of the massive bullets. She scrutinized it for a moment, before blinking in surprise and sticking it back inside the clip.
“It’s some sort of pulse shell, I didn’t think they made them for guns like this. Grenade rifles liek Thumper, sure, but a high-velocity autocannon, that's a new one.” Aerith lifted the clip back up with the rest and we began to make our way back towards the exit. “They’re good against bots and machines and other electronic stuff, but they’re not nearly as fun to use. No explosive shockwave, won't do anything against a fleshy target without a direct hit.” She stepped through the door, Aerith carefully moving the massive clips through before moving through herself. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to sell a few of them, though. It’d be an easy way to take out the Harriers without too much damage if they're low to the ground and miss. Just a bit of a blackout and a hole in the roof for the building it hits.” We were soon trotting down the ramp leading from the lower deck of the ship, spotting Trout already at the dock with Ripple chatting to Scouring.
He looked up as we trotted over to him, looking exasperated at the sight of the few shelves' worth of autocannon clips. “No! No, that is it, I’m NOT making another delivery! You either take this boat back or you’re swimming back to shore.” He spouted off. I gave a slightly nervous chuckle as Aerith lowered the clips onto the deck, Night Strike glancing behind us with a slightly nervous look on her face.
“Don’t worry, we’re coming this time, we just needed to grab these for those guns. They’re not really of any use without something to fire. It’s maybe an additional couple hundred pounds, the pulse ones are probably lighter than the others. We’re not going to sink Trout if we take them with us.” Ripple looked relieved, lowering the ramp down to the dock to allow us to climb on board.
“Good. Like I said, I’m happy to give you guys free rides, but I’d much rather have you actually riding when I'm doin' 'em.” I trotted up the ramp, Night Strike following closely behind. Scouring took the clips from Aerith with his own magic, levitating them up and moving them below deck as she went to work lifting the mini-tank back up onto Trout. The boat shifted a little with the extra weight as Crash Dive undid the moorings and trotted up the ramp behind Aerith. I began to slide the short ramp back up into place as Ripple stepped up to the controls of the boat. “Already dropped one of the guns off in Hopeville, we can swing by there for your payment before heading back to Maple Creek. Longer route to get by, but less rapids.”
Trout’s engines sputtered to life as we began to move away from shore, turning to head south along the mainland coastline. As Trout cut a wake through the water, a figure ran out of the HMS Cadence, running all the way to the end of the dock. Fowler’s screams were incomprehensible, though from the abuse he was giving his hat, I doubt he was very happy. Yeeaaah, we may not be coming back for another interview any time soon...
---
Ripple spun the wheel as we moved up the river towards the large reservior that Hopeville sat on, the water flowing against us and causing the engine to strain slightly more than normal. I leaned against the side of Trout, watching the passing countryside as Scouring inspected some of the autocannon rounds we’d gathered. The bottom of Trout scraped against some rocks in the water as we followed the river, the small town of Hopeville coming into view on the edge of the lake.
The river we were on soon entered the reservior properly, Trout being able to move a little faster in the non-flowing water. The lights of Hopeville grew larger as we travelled along the south edge of the lake, giving the dark docks and canal of Clearwater a wide berth. Soon coming to the shore not far out of town, a few other boats anchored in the water. You know, it probably wouldn’t hurt these guys to build a proper pier like the one in Maple Creek... Ripple climbed down below deck before dragging a heavy anchor back up, a thick chain wrapped around one end. I helped him take it and throw it overboard, the chain sliding along the deck quickly before coming to a sudden halt.
“Alright, don’t take too long, I’d like to be back in Maple Creek before midnight.” Ripple said, climbing back up from below decks with a short metal walkway. I nodded and helped him lock it into a few rungs in the deck, allowing us to climb down before hopping into the knee high water. Crash and I waded through the dark water as Night Strike Aerith fluttered down onto the beach, Scouring looking over to Ripple.
“Uh, you sure there’s not a better way? My suit ain’t exactly what ye might call watertight. Not sure how wet it can really get before something gets damaged...” Ripple shook his head and Scouring sighed. Night Strike looked over to him before flapping her wings, hovering herself back up onto Trout.
“You guys go ahead, we’ll stay here. Somepony needs to make sure nopony steals the rest of this ammo after all.” I shrugged and Aerith’s magic encompassed a few of the clips of ammunition, levitating them down to us. We turned and headed towards town hall, which was now easily visible with the large guns sitting on its roof. The oak doors creaked open, allowing us into the small lobby. The receptionist waved us by, her eyes widening upon seeing the shells Aerith carried. We pushed open the next set of oak doors, stepping into the mayor’s office where she sat on the opposite side of her fancy desk looking over several papers and flicking abacus beads left and right, a pencil hanging from her mouth.
She looked up as the doors shut behind us, not looking anymore relieved, and spitting the pencil out. “Oh, it’s you. Look, I…” She paused, letting a stack of papers she’d been flipping through flop back onto her desk. “I… appreciate the extra defense for this city, I really do. But, I just…” She went back to flipping a few abacus beads. “I can’t see how we can afford them! The gunsmith is still trying to come back from the first delivery, who knows when he’ll have enough to pay you for these ones! I can’t pay for them, I’d have to raise taxes 37% just to reach my advisor’s estimation; I don’t know how much that thing really costs!” She flopped her head down onto the desk, giving a soft weep. “I caaaaaaaaaaaan’t!”
I grimaced a little, Aerith lowering the ammunition. Sheesh, not really sure how she came to be in a position of power if she buckles so quickly at the first real dilemma. Then again, maybe she never had to deal with a puchase like this before... I looked over to Crash Dive and Aerith, the first doing nothing as the second simply shrugged. I looked back to the mayor, watching her break down atop all her papers. "A-ahm, we're... only going to ask for five hundred thousand, ma'am, including the price of ammunition. If you were thinking you'd have to pay somewhere in the same range as the gunsmith, that was for several guns and ammunition, this is only one. Well, two, technically, but you get my meaning."
The mayor lifted her head, a flustered look on her face as she picked herself back up. "O-oh, um, is... is that all?" Answering her with a small nod after glancing at Aerith and Crash Dive, she slumped back in her chair, staring off between us for a moment. Her eyes looked down at the piles of papers in front of her, rustling a few about as a blush came upon her face. "I-I-I... um... s-sorry for breaking down like that, my financial advisor it would come in as at least a million caps, at the lowest estimate. Oh, this is relieving news..." Moving through a few more papers, she paused and looked at one, thinking for a moment. A million caps for just one? Well... I suppose, if they wanted to count both barrels as separate guns, which they technically are, that could cause the price to jump up... No! Bad brain, we're getting enough caps as it is, don't need to extort these towns into bankruptcy. But a million caps, though... "Hm, well, I'm sorry to say that currently we onlu just barely have that amount in our treasury. I-I mean, I could see about getting you the caps, but... I'm not sure how long we could run so close to a deficit. We have to pay people to operate these things, after all."
The room fell quiet as the mayor looked towards me, Aerith and Crash Dive presumably doing the same. Okay Static, decision time, do the... mostly right, thing, or the thing that'll see you being able to buy your own dads out of the house. Or, well, at least mostly out... guh, I've been traveling with Night Strike too long. "Well, we could accept payment in other forms than caps." The mayor blunk a few times, readjusting herself in her chair and leaning forwards over her desk. Better not screw this up... "A-at least, not totally in caps, anyways. How would, um... four hundred thousand caps, and two free weeks at the hotel work for you?"
The mayor flicked around her abacus a few times and shuffled about more papers, pausing to think for a moment longer before looking back to us with a small smile. "I'm certain I can make that happen. Thank you immensely, just, please give some forewarning of how much the next gun you decide to sell to us will cost next time." She gave a little chuckle which I returned, the mare behind the desk moving to a notepad and writing down something. "If you wouldn't mind coming back tomorrow, I'll have the bottlecaps readied for you. Um, unfortunately I can't have the two free weeks at the hotel for you tonight, though, I hope that isn't an issue." Wearing a small smile and responding to her with a small nod, I turned and started to make my way back out of the office and into the illuminated streets, Crash Dive and Aerith following along. Yeah, next time... after the headache these things have been, I sure hope there won't be a next time...
‘Well, that was rather nice of you. Fourteen nights at the hotel would only cost 2800 caps.’ Aerith’s magical sign read as we headed out of the door and back towards Trout. Yeah, yeah, please don't remind me. Stupid conscious not wanting me to extort entire towns into bankruptcy... As we made our way back towards Trout, I noticed a small congregation of ponies heading towards the lakeshore as well. I began to pick up my pace, wondering what was going on. Suddenly the sound of gunfire met my ears, as well as a familiar scream of pain. Oh, no.
I broke out into a sprint, almost crashing into some ponies that were running in the opposite direction. I whipped out my umbrella, Aerith taking to the skies behind me and drawing her submachine gun. As we reached the beach at the edge of the town, I could see a pair of familiar gryphons with a small entourage firing at the ship. Scouring was launching rockets off at the gryphons, managing to hit one of the mercenaries and turn him into a fine red mist. I spotted Night Strike sitting on the deck, clutching her shoulder with her eyes clenched shut in pain. Ripple had taken up one of the steampipe machine guns and was firing haphazardly in all directions.
I leapt forwards onto one of the gryhpons with an injured wing that was trying to climb up the ladder, my umbrella connecting with his spine, causing him to spasm and fall into the water. Aerith let out a stream of bullets, knocking a few more of the mercs out of the air. The two leader mercs glanced to each other upon realizing their team now consisted of nothing but a pile of bodies floating in the reservior, the looks on their faces understandably dumbfounded. “Uh… can we talk this out?... Shit!” I grabbed a shotgun from one of the mercs and aimed it towards him. He grabbed the other’s claw and both began to zip away through the air, a late night fog rolling in over the lake quickly hiding them.
Night Strike panted as she clutched at her shoulder, myself hopping up the ladder and over the side to inspect her. She let out a weak chuckle to herself, rubbing her leg and gnawing at her lip. “Well... suppose I learned why I shouldn’t fire War Crime with a partially dislocated shoulder. Gah, fuuuuck!” She clenched her shoulder some more, rocking on the deck a little. Well, that’s Night Strike for you, attacked by five mercenaries and it’s her lack of foresight that gets her hurt.
She grunted a little as I helped her to her hind legs, Aerith fluttering down beside her. “We need to get her to the Triage right now.” She nodded and bent down, allowing me to help Night Strike to sit on her back. She took to the skies, flying towards the center of town. I jumped back down in the water, following closely behind on hoof. Sweet Celestia, Night Strike, why do you need to keep getting into all this trouble?
-----
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck with a side dish of fuck and fuck seasoning, shoulders are not supposed to break like that. Or, at all, for that matter. Stupid power armor, stupid bear... stupid Night Strike. Fuuuuuck... the cool night air in my face at least kept me awake, despite the fact that my shoulder currently felt like I -had- tried to shoulder-fire the TOG's 17-pounder, and pretty much resembled the likely outcome too. Well, sans whatever was on the recieving end getting a balefire egg to the face... still, that .50 cal round sure made short work of those gryphons, though.
Aerith landed with a small clatter of her hooves on the asphalt outside the Triage, her horn having encompassed my duffel bag before we left. Good girl, might be something helpful in there... and I could really go for a Sparkle-Cola too, now I think of it. The door opened with a small ring of a bell, myself lifting up off of Aerith's back and looking forwards at the receptionist. Her eyes went wide as she finally seemed to recognize us - or, maybe just at the sight of Aerith - the alicorn throwing up one of her black screens for the receptionist to read.
"Oh dear. Ahm, down the hall and to the right, ask for Blunt Trauma, he's our orthopedic specialist." Uh... what? Aerith seemed to share my confusion for a moment as she turned towards the hall that the receptionist pointed to. She gave a sigh, rubbing a hoof against her head. "He handles broken bones." Oooh, yeah, that'd probably be helpful. Giving the receptionist a nod, Aerith quickly made way down the hall with my duffel bag in tow, the quiet cacaphony of medical beeps and other things filling the air. As she pushed through the doorway, a unicorn on the other side jumped back with a small yelp, his glasses becoming askew on his muzzle. Readjusting them, he picked himself back up, dusting his medical garbs off.
"Well, can admit that's one of the more exciting things to've happened at night so far here. You just barging in to knock me off my hooves, or are you looking for Doctor Trauma?" Okay, so this guy isn't the doctor. Great. Well, at least he kind of looks the part, so he isn't some bozo just wandering around, either... Aerith gave a small nod of her head, the unicorn stallion letting off a sigh and trotting around her, looking over me. "Sorry to say he checked out for the night, but I can go get him. I'm Nurse Laundry, where do you think you broke your bones?"
I gave a small grunt as they both lifted me off of Aerith's back and laid me down on a medical bed, Aerith moving out of the way and setting my duffel bag beside the bed while the unicorn trotted around. Spreading my wings out, a grunt of pain escaped me - oh, right, that connects up there too. Great. "Right shoulder, automatic rifle chambered for .50 caliber MG. And one impact into a stone paved road from height... and one impact into somepony wearing heavy power armor... ow..."
"Huh, I knew they made machine guns for that caliber, just didn't realize you could fly around with them, too. Do you have any numbness or tingling sensations in your foreleg?" The unicorn gently rubbed over my outstretched leg as I responded in the negative, letting off a soft groan. After a moment, I felt him starting to move my wing as well, sending a chill up my spine - nope, yeah, felt weird when Crash Dive preened me, still feels weird now. After a moment he finally let go, my wing quickly taking it's place back against my body. "Well, good news and bad news. Good news, from what I can gather as a first diagnosis, you just managed to break your scapula, shoulder blade. Bad news, if that's the case you're probably looking at a couple weeks of drinking healing potions before you're back to full safe function. I'll go get Dr. Trauma, he'll be able to help make sure nothing gets worse. Ahm, don't move too much for now."
Pausing for a moment, the sensation of weightlessness that comes with being leviated in a magic aura overcame me, flipping myself over onto my back and letting me rest my head against a pillow at the end of the bed. It tilted up slightly, myself letting out a small sigh as Aerith came back into view, the unicorn nurse trotting out of the room. We watched the door for a moment, before the alicorn looked towards me, myself swallowing through my dry mouth. "Mmh... he didn't say anything about not drinking in the hospital, did he?" Flashing her a smirk, she returned with a grin, the small clinking of glass bottles from below filling the air as her horn lit up. Oh, sweet, sweet nectar of the goddesses, let me forget this pain.
Reaching up to take one of the freshly-opened bottles, I was suddenly just then reminded why I was in the hospital in the first place. Fuuuuuuck me with a six hundred millimeter mortar shell, I'm not a smart pony. Biting back my lower lip to get my mind off of the shattered bone in the right side of my body, I reached up to take the bottle again, this time with my left hoof. Putting the glass rim to my lips, the glowing blue soda caused my pip-buck's geiger counter to click once or twice, the bottle swiftly being filled by air as the heavenly nectar flowed down my throat and came to rest in my stomach. Oh, yeah, that's the stuff...
After a few minutes, and another bottle, the sounds of hoofsteps echoed down the hall as the nurse returned, along with an older unicorn stallion in a trench coat. "Hunh, so you're my latest patient? One of the Vanhoover Five, who could've expected that..." Pausing as he stood himself at the foot of the bed, he let off a long sigh, catching the mostly empty bottle of soda in my left hoof and half-empty bottle in Aerith's magic. Nurse Laundry responded in kind by promptly having his forehoof meet his forehead. "I suppose my assistant forgot to mention that food and drinks aren't allowed in patient care rooms. Much less ones that were irradiated before the bombs fell... Well, no use fussing over it now. Let's see what I can do for you."
Trotting over to my side, the doctor lowered his head and took to focusing, his horn alighting with an auburn magic aura. Oooh, that's a weird tingly feeling... Trying to resist moving, he scanned the tip of his horn over where my shoulder was broken, lingering for a long moment before dropping his magic and moving to look at my shoulder in disbelief. O...kay, that's not an expression you want on a medical pony's face. After a moment, he turned to look back at his assistant, scratching at his mane. "Ahm, Nurse, did you do anything for the patient's wound before you left? A healing potion, or something?"
The other unicorn answered in the negative, and Dr. Trauma's expression only became more perplexed. So much for a comforting bedside manner... eh, I guess it is pretty late. He's probably just tired... hopefully. Looking back to me, his horn lit up again, a small aura tinkling out of my vision before the zipper of my jacket was pulled down halfway, the heavy fabric moved out of the way to provide a better look at the shoulder. Doctor Trauma did the magic tingly-thing with his horn again, scanning slowly over my shoulder as I adjusted myself to let him move around it, his expression still being the same as he pulled off.
"You said you just broke it tonight, right? Came straight here from there, didn't drink any healing potions or anything inbetween?" Answering him with a shake of the head, he scratched at his, rubbing a hoof down his neck. Oh great, don't tell me I've got something else wrong with me... "I dunno how to explain this. It's starting to heal up already, the fracture looks like it's a day or two old from the progress it's showing me. Lucky it didn't fragment like that... are you absolutely certain you haven't taken any healing potions, medicine, drugs, anything?"
"Nothin' but the two Sparkle-Colas I drank before you got back, and unless proximity to a balefire bomb impact crater can cause it to do stuff other than make your pee glow and be a delicious soda, I kinda doubt it's that." Shrugging in response - well, with my left shoulder, anyways - I lifted up the second empty bottle, letting the doctor take it in his magic and look over the label. Can recite the ingredient list by heart; Carbonated water, caramel color, aspartame, phosphoric acid, potassium benzoate, natural flavors, citric acid, caffiene, and good old Strontium-90. And a bit of other various possible radiation sources, of course. Still the best drink in the wasteland. Seems to be the best drink for confusing 1 out of 10 doctors, too...
"Alright... this is gonna be a bit of a shot in the dark, and normally I don't encourage drinking addictive substances like this, but any explanation is better than none. Do you have any more of these?" Does a 17-pounder shell weigh 17 pounds? Letting off a little chuckle, I nodded to the duffel bag sitting at the side of the bed, Aerith lifting a fresh bottle of that beautiful blue soda out of it and over to me. The cap came off with a pleasant hiss of carbonation, the doctor leaning over my shoulder again. Okay, I think I can get what he wants me to do. His magic flared up, and I took the glass neck of the bottle to my lips, starting to down the glowing soda happily. Halfway through the bottle, he broke off again, making a few astonished blinks at me as I looked to him and happily finished it off. What's up, doc?
"Holy shit... Ahm, uh, would you object to an overnight stay? We need to run some tests, um... just DNA samples and minor observations, look for any abnormalities." That drew a chuckle from me. If they want to look for anything funky with my DNA, have I got a surprise in store for them when they do their tests, assuming they haven't been listening to the radio, anyways. Looking over to Aerith, she took another sip from her first bottle - pff, lightweight - passing on a small one-shouldered shrug.
"Probably gonna have to wait until tomorrow for payment on that fancy AA gun anyways, and I'm already here. Let the rest know where I'll be, I think I'll be fine." Aerith gave a nod, trotting past the two medical ponies and out the doorway, Nurse Laundry following her out of sight as the older unicorn looked back to me, pulling over and affixing a medical mask over his muzzle. Yanno, I think I prefer a unicorn doctor over an earth pony one if I had to have somepony operating on me... hell, I'd prefer a competent doctor over any other kind, for that matter. Giving my right foreleg a little stretch - okay, yeah, actually feeling better now - I looked back to the doctor, the nurse wheeling in a small metal cart. "So, why the surprise check-up, if I'm free to ask?"
"Well, I don't know how to explain it, but as far as I can tell something's up with you that really isn't normal." You mean, like being the offspring of two stallions? That's pretty not-normal as things go. As somepony probably once said, normal is relative...
---
"Tie me up like a Hoofington mare and fuck me silly, I just don't get it at all." Oh, even I think that was a lot of Sparkle-Cola to drink in one night. Ten bottles with no food otherwise... urp. "As far as I can tell, for some goddess-damned reason I don't know your DNA's structured to respond to that stuff like it's some kind of super healing potion, or something. And that's before getting to the fact you somehow have two fathers and no mother!" Letting off a rather large belch and swaying a little - that's not a good sloshing sound - I stood, kind of, in Doctor Trauma's office, Nurse Laundry having fallen asleep an hour or so ago on one of the cots. Oh, I'm gonna be leaving glowing puddles for the next few days. The unicorn stallion rubbed at his temples, leaning over his desk. After a moment, he let off a sigh, looking back at me. "At least your shoulder ought to be good now. Your skeleton's more brittle than most, but as long as you keep drinking that stuff, and nothing shatters or gets displaced, you should be fine. I'm going to go get back to sleep, this night's been... something."
Giving him a nod and a weak smile, he gathered his coat and started to make way for the door, myself following him. As we entered the lobby, the power-armored pegasus rushed over to greet me, a worried look on her face. Oh, no, no, please don't hug and shake me, I feel stuffed to burst already... "Goddesses I was worried. At least you're alright now... um, glowing eyes aside." Thaaat explains why everything's so bright. Night vision isn't worth it if I have to drink enough Sparkle-Cola to feel like I got into Dad's reserves again... Weakly I followed Crash Dive out of the hospital, fitting my duffel bag onto the half-track parked outside the entrance and flopping onto the back portion with a long groan. So much testing last night, so many aches and pains, so much Sparkle-Cola... Oh, I might be sick. "Um, are you going to be alright?"
Looking up at Crash Dive with a weak frown, I let out another long groan, moving myself to lay against my duffel bag. A bit stiff and rough, but I can deal with it. Thank you jacket for having a big collar like you do... "Yeah... yeah, I just... had a long night. Lot of Sparkle-Cola, lot of testing done, lot of my body fixing itself with each sip... on the bright side, I should pretty much be self-regenerating for the next few days until I get all of this outta my system. Just a little... stuffed, until then. Hurk." Oh, Sparkle-Cola RAD never tastes as good the second time around. At least I can keep it in me still... probably isn't radiation sickness, they did start giving me some radaway by the fifth bottle. Never want to have to do this again...
"Alright, if you say so. Ripple left with Trout last night, we're heading for Maple Creek once the rest get back. Sooner we can get back to the lighthouse, the better, I really don't want to go around with so many caps on us." Now that's a pretty good point there. Desperate people want bottlecaps, even if there aren't that many desperate people around here, having a whole lotta them with us probably isn't a good thing. Even if we have enough firepower with us to pretty much take on any kind of raider camp without breaking much of a sweat...
After a few minutes of me just enjoying the chill air blowing around and trying to pass out - stupid double caffeine and sugar - the sounds of hoofsteps and lots and lots of bottlecaps jingling about filled the air, a few boxes or bags or something landing in the back wagon before two sets of hooves followed, Static humming happily to himself as he got into the driver's seat. Please let this thing's suspension be good, I really don't wanna know what happens when a balloon filled with Sparkle-Cola, like my stomach right now, gets shaken up. A tinkling of magic filled the air as one of Aerith's screens met my vision, the black screen providing some lovely shade.
'You really don't look so good. Are you doing okay?' Oh, I'm gonna be asked that a lot today, aren't I? I gave her a weak nod as the engine roared to life beneath me, Static starting to turn the mini-tank around and head back to the lighthouse. As we headed for the road out of town, the mini-tank hit a small pothole, myself being bounced a little in the backseat as we passed over it. My stomach responded with a rather loud sloshing and gurgling noise, myself thankful that all that came from the building taste of Sparkle-Cola in my throat was an exceptionately large burp. Oh, this is gonna be fun...
---
I groaned myself awake in the lighthouse bedroom, rubbing at my head. Fuck me sideways, what time was it?... 5:26. Great. So, I either just slept the day away or managed to sleep a full 24 hours with a belly full of Spakle-Cola RAD going through my system. Both possible, with that much soda I probably crashed and burned like that Harrier... what was I doing before I fell asleep? There was the broken shoulder... the medical tests at the hospital... coming out of the hospital and getting on the half-track... watching the sky speed away as we got out of Hopeville, and... guess it was somewhere between there. Huh, that's weird though, pretty sure my back legs didn't feel so warm and cushy and OH FUCK ME NO. Oh, I'm going to kill that earth pony.
Frantically shoving the damp, glowing, fabric-stuffed bag around my rump off, with a few less-than-mature screams to boot, the sound of four hooves rushing down the hall filled the air, the bluish mane of the alicorn coming around the corner greeting me in the doorway. Aerith looked towards me for a moment, then to the... thing that I was just wearing, before letting off a silent sigh and picking it up in her magic, tossing it out of sight through an opened window. Thank you, thank you, thank you... 'Ahm, sorry, you started to... well... and, um, Crash Dive didn't want her mattress glowing. Static said that this is what they did last time.' Aerith chewed at her lip for a moment, before returning a somewhat worried expression. 'I'm kind of concerned that there even is a 'last time'. You don't do this often, do you?'
"N-no! Of course not, that was just one... stupid mistake. I don't want to talk about it." Picking myself up to my hooves, I trotted past the alicorn, shivering slightly as the cool air met my flanks. Oh, no, no, this just doesn't feel right at all. Punching something would probably help... like that earth pony's face. He's tough, he can handle it. Looking along the hallway for a moment, the distinct lack of other hoofsteps and voices caught my attention, the cool breeze coming around the lighthouse filling the air instead. "Aerith, where's Static at? I need to give him a hug... around the neck... until he's bluer than usual."
'He went back up to Maple Creek with Crash Dive and Scouring to work out payment for the other turret, and deliver some more of the ammo.' Of course he did. Well, at least I can pummel him once he gets back... a long foreleg draped itself around my neck, Aerith looking down at me with a small frown. 'Is everything alright with you? I mean, you and him seem like you're pretty close, why the honest rage at him all of a sudden?' Did she just- was she-... oh, forget it. I let out a small sigh, the alicorn's magic retrieving a towel from the bathroom as we move to sit in the booths in the kitchen. I sat myself down on it as she spread it out on one side, herself taking the other.
"It's... it's a long story. Being so far away from home isn't helping at all, and with this now..." Rubbing at my head, I let off a long sigh, leaning on the table. Looking out the window, the waves crahsed down below, the sun starting to illuminate the cliffs with an orangeish hue. "We both really want to go back home, stuff just keeps happening and getting in the way. Now we've got mercenaries after us, ponies with air craft that know pretty well how to fly them that want to kill us, and Celestia knows what else we're going to run into or have come out of the sky at us, and the cherry on top is we're also part of this wasteland's version of Twintails and Minty. We're both only 18, you have any idea how stressful shit like that is!? No wonder my dad gets that weird look whenever we go up by NEAMO crater, or has so many grey hairs..." Letting out a sigh, I let myself slump forwards, my chin resting on the table. As if to remind me, my stomach found it necessary to let off another gurgle, a burp escaping me - uuugh, Sparkle-Cola really doesn't taste as good a few hours after it's been drank. "Ugh, and then there's also the whole being force-fed Sparkle-Cola RAD thing all through last night..."
Leaning myself back up and resting back in the booth, my hooves moved to hold against my stomach under my jacket, it gurgling softly again. Well, on the upside it is getting through my system... Aerith's screen came up again, the alicorn looking at myself with a perplexed expression. 'I kind of do want to know why they did that to you. I'm not a doctor, but even I doubt that's a standard procedure.' Huh, but didn't I tell her about it last night... this morning... whatever it is? Oh, wait, no, I told Crash Dive... vaguely, I think. Bleh, ponies shouldn't sleep during the day...
"Well, turns out my body can heal itself as long as I keep drinking the stuff. Broken bones, minor cuts, bullet holes, you name it. I think complete regeneration is out of the question, though..." Yup... yeah, that's an expression I've goten a lot. First time it isn't about my dads, though. "I guess I'm also a bit more resistant to radiation than normal too, because I only needed one or two things of radaway during all that. Turns out my bones are pretty brittle, though, so it's not all good stuff. Dunno if it's just genetics or when I was made they tweaked with the formula a bit so I'm the way I am, I just know that I never ever ever want to be forced to drink THAT much in one night again." There was a short pause, the breaking of the waves masking the entrance of a small motor as the mini-tank made it's way across the landbridge and up to the lighthouse. "Under my own volition, sure, but no more force-drinking."
The door opened with a small creak as Static trotted in through it, followed by Crash Dive and Scouring. Our eyes met for a moment, before his looked down to my flanks on the booth, a smirk coming to his lips. Wipe that grin off your face before I do it for you, Sparky... "Have a good nap, Strikey? Didn't make too much of a mess, did you?" My stomach gurgled again as I started to grit my teeth, a small burp getting caught in my mouth and released as an angry huff. Oh, if I weren't still working this soda through me you would be a dead stallion... he let off a small chuckle, grabbing a Sunrise Sarsaparswilla from the fridge and trotting back over, undoing the bottlecap with a small hiss.
"We'll get payment for the anti-air gun in a week or two while they work on gathering up the bottlecaps, in the meantime we've got a new lead on those fish-monster-things." Crash Dive chiming in broke me away from thoughts of taking Static out back and pumping ten more bottles of that soda into his own stomach, the power armored mare pulling a package of pre-war snackfood off of a shelf and opening it up for herself. "Heard from Ripple that a few of the fishermen up by Hopeville spotted things that fit the description by an old dock in the northwest of the reservoir. Figured we ought to check it out, and maybe blow it up." The room went quiet as suddenly all eyes were on Crash Dive, the powdered sugar from a snack cake on her lips. "Mmh, what? Kind of seems like it's just what we do, save people and blow stuff up."
"I think the lass is rubbin' off on you, either that or I am." Scouring let off a small chuckle, looking back out the doorway for a moment. He paused in thought, and I think I managed to figure out just what he was thinking about when he started moving for teh door again. "Assumin' the dock isn't built like a bunker, I think we've got just the thing for taking care of it. What d'you think Night Strike, one o' those one-ton thermobaric bombs ought to do it, aye?"
"Two'd be better, yanno, just so we're sure it'll be gone." Returning a smirk, the unicorn stallion gave a nod and chuckle, disappearing out through the doorway and around the side of the house. Blowing stuff up, now that'll make me feel better, and it'll be nice to see what those big bloody bombs can do... and a bit sobering, when the thought that there's at least eight of them not in our posession out there to be used against others comes to mind. Hopefully we'll never have to see that. Static tossed myself and Aerith a pair of unopened packages of snack cakes, the alicorn catching them in her magic and opening them for the both of us. Food... yeah, I guess I ought to eat something. Probably will help keep the Sparkle-Cola down...
"Mmh, so, when we moving on this? Gonna wait until tomorrow, or..." Munching down one of the powdery pre-war cakes, the sounds of two big heavy things getting placed in the wagon came in from outside, Crash Dive stuffing the rest of her first snack cake in her mouth before folding the plastic over and setting it on the counter. Static let off a small chuckle, finishing off his second snack cake and trotting to our bedroom, grabbing my duffel bag and his saddlebags, returning and tossing the former to me.
"Soon as possible, in other words, now. Was going to let you sleep in, figured between Scouring and Crash Dive we could handle it easy, but I guess you can come if you have to." Oh har har. Leave me out of the rest of the adventures down here, why don't you, it's not like I'm looking for any chances to happily derp stuff in the face with 40mm grenades and other big bullets. Going through my duffel bag and pulling Thumper out, and checking the breech - thank you for pulling that shell out for me, whoever did that - I zipped it back up, catching the earth pony snickering. "Yanno, you did look really cute asleep like that, your rump surrounded by such a thick diaper. Just a shame I couldn't have had it made as big as last time~"
I swear sometimes that earth pony WANTS me to hurt him...
---
"Well, sure looks like somepony's wised up to these things being around." The first hints of night had fallen as we pulled up to the old wooden dock the monster fish-things were spotted at, and apparently shot at on, too. An old barge creaked softly as it bobbed in the water beside the wooden pier, myself hopping off of the back of the mini-tank and hovering over, landing near a rotting carcass. Yup, definitely were the monster-things... "Anyone see any reason why they'd be hanging around here?"
"Well, we're on the lake they keep commin' out of, for one." Static trotted over beside me as Scouring and Aerith saw to getting one of the bombs off of the cart, Crash Dive watching them from the wagon. I passed along a roll of the eyes, letting out a small huff - thank you captain obvious. The earth pony looked around for a moment, myself following behind as he headed for a small shed near the shoreline. "This doesn't seem like a commercial shipping dock, too small for that and there's nowhere to store stuff. Means it's either a privately-owned one..."
"Or owned by a biological research company?" He turned and blunk a few times at me in confusion, staring from the opened doorway. In return, I gave a nod towards the faded logo printed on the outside of the shed; 'Shady Shores Biological Research'. Really, it's not like it's not obvious... though my eyes cound still be glowing a little, that's a possibility too. Still, this does raise a question or two... "The logs back in Clearwater kind of said that people were getting attacked by these things before the bombs even hit. If they're crowding around here for whatever reason..."
"I really am not liking what that's implying." Okay, I know that pre-war Equestria wasn't exactly all friendship and happiness, but even then, making monsters that eat other ponies? That sounds a bit far on the wrong side of crazy. Static stopped for a moment to jab his umbrella into the back of a roach, myself starting to look over the piles of clipboards and ruined books that littered the inside of the small shed. Okay, well, we've at least got a name to blame for these things now, probably...
There was a small whirring sound of a fan starting as Static clicked the power button for a console at the far end of the shed, the screen flashing and illumminating for a second before something inside the case fizzled and popped, smoke flowing out of it. Joy, well, so much for that terminal. Damn water damage... pushing a pile of clipboards aside, a military-grade radio revealed itself, myself looking at it as Static waved away the smoke from the terminal's vents. Okay, maybe research-grade portable terminals aren't exactly waterproof, but military-grade ham radios, on the other hoof... giving a glance to the earth pony as he went through another stack of clipboards, I leaned forwards and flipped the power switch for the radio set, it humming to life with a bit of static.
"This is Captain Marigold Skies aboard the Seaddler, calling to anyone listening on this frequency. I've lost all power in one engine and losing power in the other three fast, going to attempt a landing on the Vanhoover Reservoir, and I'm not feeling up for paddling myself back to shore. If anyone listening has a motor boat to help get me and my plane over after we're down, would be nice." ...okay, wasn't expecting that. Usually when I turn these things on it's ponies' last messages before they died, still broadcasting even two centuries after the fact... ewuh, yeah, still sends shivers up my spine thinking about it. The radio crackled for a moment longer, before that mare's voice came back over the speaker. "This is Seaddler calling for the North Vanhoover Air Base, I know for a fact that place wasn't hit during the war, is anyone there listening on this frequency? I'm eight klicks south of the reservoir and closing fast, somepony responding would be nice."
Myself and Static were staring at each other for a long while, both wearing the same expression of disbelief. Okay, so, even more air craft in the wasteland than we first guessed... and this one has four engines, that's a new one for me. Our eyes locked for a moment longer, the earth pony nodded to the radio beside me, and the microphone in front of it. Giving him another glance, I turned to face it, placing a hoof gently on the button in front of the mike for a moment before firmly pressing it.
"U-uhm, we're reading you here, uh, Seaddler, are you sure you're going to make it to the reservoir?" So I'm not exactly a flight coordinator, sue me. Knowing if we're going to have to make a mad dash south to try and save somepony from a fireballing wreck would be useful. And so would maybe letting them know that a certain ammunition depot was currently covered in chlorine gas still, come to think of it... "I-if you can't, try to avoid crashing near the Seahoof Armory, there's been a... um... small detonation of all the chlorine gas bombs stored there... ahem."
The radio was silent for a moment longer, static and the thrum of engines coming over after a moment, a dull drone heard far off in the distance outside. "Understood, will be avoiding the Seahoof airspace anyways. Going to be bringing her in low over Hopeville for the landing, if you're near there d'you think you could apologize to the town in advance for me?" Myself letting off a small chuckle, the dull roar kept filling the night air far towards the south, both of us looking out the broken window over towards the dim lights of the town on the far bank. Well, hopefully not many ponies are sleeping right now, because they'll be in for a surprise. I admit it did take a moment for me to stick two and two together why the people of Hoepville won't be the only ones surprised tonight - well, a moment, and the flash of tracers in the sky as the mare on the other end of the radio let out a curt scream.
"What the hell!? Cease fire, cease fire! Oh sh-" The radio cut to static as explosions illuminated the sky over the heavily armed small shoreside town, a large form with one of it's wings engulfed in flames and making a loud droning noise coming down out of the sky. Both myself and Static scrambled for the door, my wings carrying me aloft as the aircraft came down against the surface of the lake with a large splash of water in the nightime air, the spray seeming to dull the flames for a moment as the craft seemed to skip along the surface. The mini-tank's engine let out a roar as Static started it up, my eyes watching with the air craft as it seemed to finally slow down and come to an abrupt stop down the shore, beached up upon it with one wing still spurting fire.
Well, on the upside, she won't be needing that tow to shore... oh, crap...
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and finished with the fist chapter, It's nice to see familiar characters again in more appropriate retired roles. It's something we don't see in a Fallout Equestrai story often. (that and completed story's) with how I've been bindg reading lately, It wont take long for me to catch up.
Damn, hoping that pony survived the crash.