Project Overlord

by TheFullCrumb

Chapter 3 - How Riveting

If I had known what had struck the entire settlement, I would have been able to warn them before they even were ‘attacked.’

Unfortunately, something hit the settlement. The only way I could have known for sure was that there was a plethora of guns pointed at myself, and my three pony crew. Hollyweather was backing up, holding Misty against her, while Grey stood beside me, holding a pistol in his mouth, ready to fire.

“So, what now? We’ve got an entire settlement ready to gun us down. Why haven’t they-” I nudged Grey, shaking my head before motioning.

“Look at their eyes. Glowin’ and all weird-like. It’s like if’n something took their minds from them.” As we backed up, we could hear movement behind us. Several Enclave soldiers had entered from the gate’s area, their characteristic black armor the last thing I wanted to see once more. Ducking down, I peered over the edge, trying to see if anypony there was recognizable.

“Colonel Shadow, sir! The test has gone effectively, and the settlement has been rendered harmless. We can begin extraction of the greenhouse at any point in time.” The greenhouse? Those feathered bastards were going to take one of the few sources of food in the Bonelands? Not on my watch. However, Hollyweather held me down, pulling me backwards from the edge. Whispering, she kept glancing over to the Enclave soldiers, who were busy examining each ‘test subject,’ as they could be heard saying.

“Look, Schooner, I know you have a beef with the Colonel, but we’ve got, what, a pistol and a badly-maintained battle-saddle? That’s suicide. We have to get out of here, and figure out what we’re going to do.” I could not argue with that point. When Hollyweather was right, she was right, and there was no arguin’ ‘bout it. I nodded, acknowledging her point. Grey sighed, sliding the pistol into a holster on his hoof.

“All right, Holly, we be playin’ this yer way. Le’s get ou’ o’ ‘ere.” The fact that the Enclave had not noticed us moving away was a pure miracle, handed down by the celestial powers themselves. I had counted – to myself, of course – five Enclave soldiers, including the Colonel, and each was carrying one o’ them arcane blasters, the ones that could burn a hole straight through ya. What really set the scale was the transport that dropped from the sky, the Enclave symbol proudly emblazoned on the side. They loaded up every single member that was not us, from Kipper to Berrymay, and even little Valence. Each one of them responded to the orders they were given like, dare I say, drones, like machines. As we walked slowly away, I heard Misty start to cry. Her eyes flashed a sort of recognition, and it was the first time I noticed her flank.

Somepony had burned away her Mark, replacing it with a crude lightning bolt and a ragged cloud. The mark looked less like a burn and more like a brand. Like the brand. Letting Misty and Hollyweather go further ahead, I pulled Grey back with me, and we walked. Silently, at first, but then the question would not let itself go, would not leave my head.

“Grey, is Misty… a Dashite?” I could hear the clenching of Grey’s teeth as he struggled to contain himself. Whatever had happened really hit him hard. I sighed, walking further as he held his head down. His voice startled me, because it was low, serious, and somewhat intimidating.

“Yeah, she is. Unfortunately, she was one of the lucky ones.”

“Whaddya mean, ‘lucky ones?’” Apparently, that phrase was enough to poke Grey the wrong way, who looked up with pure anger in his eyes.

“They experimented on her! Treated her like chattel, like a piece of garbage to be used and tossed away when no longer of use! She barely remembers from day-to-day, much less her own name. I have to remind her every morning of who she is. When the sight of the Enclave sets her off, she regresses, becoming more and more like a child. I can’t do anything about it, and I doubt she’ll survive much longer.” Pieces started clicking in my head. Grey was not just from the Wasteland, he was a runner, somepony who needed to get away lest they face the ‘almighty wrath’ of the Enclave. I felt for him, I really did. The Enclave loved their ‘experiments’ on those they considered ‘lesser’ ponies, and Hollyweather herself was no stranger to them, either.

“Grey-”

“They had no right! No right! They destroyed who she was, all for… this!” He motioned back to the settlement, where I nodded, gritting my teeth. The Enclave had really taken an entire settlement, without any violence, and I wanted to know how.

=--------====|/0\|====--------=

Sometimes, the desert is a strange place, and the Bonelands was no exception to that rule. I reckoned we walked maybe three hours before Misty started screaming. Turning to her, I noticed a small amount of green goop slowly eating its way through her tail. My eyes widened, the rifle at the ready as I clamped my mouth on the trigger-bit. Grey already had his pistol out, wildly aiming around. Taking my mouth off of the bit for a second, I motioned to Grey, who was starting to freak out.

“Grey, if you panic, you’ll get us all killed! That’s Paraspewer bile, and that sort o’ stuff’ll eat right through anythin’.” Grey looked at me in confusion, until I bit down on my trigger, hard. The bullet whizzing past, his eyes went wide as he heard a squelch, and the sickly sound of whatever sound was similar to glass being eroded by caustic juices.

“That was a Paraspewer. They pop when ya shoot ‘em, so don’ kill ‘em close to yerself, o’erwise you get splashed!” Hollyweather was busy trying to cut Misty’s tail so it did not end up engulfing her flank as well, while Grey and I were trying to keep any Paraspewers at bay.

Fortunately, though, there had only been three or four. Luck being with us that time, I was glad we had not encountered a swarm. With the way a swarm worked, they could reduce a standing pre-War structure to goopy rubble in less than thirty minutes, a sight I would rather not have ever witnessed, but it had happened all the same. Grey was panting, Misty being quieted and comforted by Hollyweather. Her tail was a poor sight, being so short after the Paraspewer bile ate it right down to the bone.

We did eventually continue on, but Misty’s nerves were shot, and she desperately needed somewhere to lie down. The only nearby structure for miles was an old battery manufacturing plant, simply called the Sparkleworks, where Spark batteries had been mass produced. I hated the idea, having once been through there myself, but with little other choice, I had to tell them.

I will be perfectly honest, they were less than pleased.

=--------====|/0\|====--------=

“The only structure around is an old Spark Battery plant?! Nothing else?!” I knew they would hate the idea, but I did not expect Grey to be so… vocal ‘bout it. No pony who was worth their salt would have even suggested it, but it was the only area around where we could stop and rest somewhat. Misty needed bandages on her tail’s stump, and Hollyweather needed to address some issues that Misty seemed to be having. I was happy to hear Hollyweather pipe up, meanin’ that I did not have to worry ‘bout explaining it to Grey.

“The Sparkleworks are the most defensible area around, Grey. That building has withstood almost everything that the Enclave has thrown at it, and the ponies inside are nothing if not tenacious.” As soon as she mentioned the ponies inside, I stiffened up. The group inside that building were not ponies I would normally associate with, and we had come to blows on previous occasions.

Unfortunately, our situation demanded that we get somewhere with shelter soon.

“That there’s th’ only buildin’ fer kilometers around, Grey. While I don’ get along with Rangers, they be the best bet we-”

“Rangers, as in Steel Rangers?!” I sighed, looking at the makeshift red flag at the top of the building. The symbol upon it stood proudly, a grey gear with a bolt-action rifle superimposed over top. Turning back, I shook my head, trying to figure out the best way to describe the group we were about to interact with.

“They call ‘emselves Rivet Rangers, Grey. Their Rivet Rifles ain’t somethin’ ta take lightly. Makeshift as they are, they kill jus’ as quickly as any ol’ rifle.” A shudder went through my body as I remembered the first time I came face-to-face with a Rivet Rifle.

Rivet Rifles were built and maintained by the Rivet Rangers, makeshift weapons using principles of magnetism to overcome the propellant issues of other rifles. Designed to fire a sliver of metal not much bigger than a ten millimeter bullet, they were near silent, except for the charging of the EM Coils contained around the barrel of the weapon. As it stood, they were the only weapon in the Bonelands that allowed the Rangers to keep their base, running Enclave off regardless of how many attacked that Rangers base.

“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the unsung ‘ero himself!” Catching myself before I flipped up my own weapon, I looked at the barrel of the weapon pointed at my head, the tell-tale crackle of the electrical coils indicating the weapon was charged. Turning ‘round, I saw five more Rangers aiming their weapons around, before one lowered his weapon, coming close to Misty. Grey growled, even though he seemed to know he would not get to her in time before their weapons would discharge, ripping him apart.

“Captain Kite, sir! We’ve got a Bile victim here! She needs immediate medical attention.” The growl of their leader as he leaped down, his wings snapping shut as he lifted his talons to inspect the stump of tail that belonged to Misty Falls.

“Aw, hell. Get her inside! An’ you, Schooner, we’ll talk.”

=--------====|/0\|====--------=

Captain Ian Kite, now there was a soldier. Being the sole griffon in the Bonelands, he had no choice but to be tough, and terrifying. Scars ran up and down his black-plumed body, his left eye a milky orb from a small amount of Paraspewer Bile. His office was a mess, pre-war papers all over and slightly charred, with his desk and the two chairs we sat on the only furniture in the entire room.

“Your brown and scarred self ain’t welcome ‘round here, Schooner, or did you forget?” I sat in his office, the main factory control overlooking the floor where his Rangers assembled new Rivet Rifles and makeshift armor – leather armor with metal strips, mostly designed to contain shells shot at them.

Kite was right, though. Last time I had met with the Rangers, I had killed three of his people, and left him with a damaged foreleg. He learned afterwards that I was not to be crossed.

Kicking the chair back, I turned to look down on the manufacturing floor. Spark batteries were plugged into their respective parts of Rivet Rifles, battle-saddles being refitted for the new weapons.

“I know, Kite. You know I wouldn’t be here withou’ a good reason, aye?” A grumble from Kite’s direction told me I was right.

“Then what’s your reason, Schooner?”

“They did something to the Junction.” The air stood still for a second as Kite sucked in a breath, his talons clacking on the desk as he did his best to maintain his composure. While it was unofficial, Kite’s Rivet Rangers were the defacto protectors of the Junction, and if somethin had happened to them, I was sure as Boneland Plum Juice was sour that he was pissed. He stood up from his own chair, walking over to the window that looked over the factory floor.

“Schooner, my Rangers have been at this for ten years. Fifteen if you count the times we were workin’ together. If somethin’ happened to the Junction, then we’ll be hit soon.” I followed him over to the window, shaking my head.

“Somethin’ hit them, if’n ya can listen fer a sec. Like a… ray o’ some kind. They loaded ‘em into transports, takin’ ‘em out o’ there and signallin’ to take the greenhouse. Somethin’ wasn’t right with ‘em all.” Kite gritted his teeth, staring down at the ground before he stomped back to his desk, throwing his chair against the wall.

“Ancestors damn it all! If they could just take the Junction, then we’ve got no chance here!” Approaching him, I sighed, looking at him with all the energy I could muster.

“We ‘ave to get ta King’s Fall, Kite. I know ya got a skiff ‘ere somewhere, so if’n ya can, we need to-” A blast of energy echoed inside the building, a chunk of rock falling from the wall as Enclave soldiers began to file in, only to be shredded by twenty Rivet Rifles discharging all at once.

“Then we have to go now, Schooner. No two ways ‘bout it.”

“I know, Kite.” Grabbing a nearby radio receiver, he lifted it up to his mouth, tapping a button on the side.

“All Rangers, scatter! They might test something on us that allowed them to take the Junction. Operation Nightlight is a go!” The name of what we undertook was something that made no sense to me. It was bright daylight outside, hot in the desert’s way of wantin’ to melt you to pieces.

“Kite, what is Nightlight?!”

“Destruction of the Sparkleworks! My Rangers’ll get your friends out of here, but I have to activate the countdown! We’ve got an unexploded balefire bomb underneath this compound, rigged up to an electrical activation system!” His words chilled me right to the bone. A balefire bomb was the reason the world had ended the way it did. While life had not changed much in the Bonelands, besides the bad mutated bugs and things that ya did not want to fight, ever, balefire bombs had tainted the land.

“Where did ya get a bomb?!”

“Old Zebra convoy that passed through before the bombs fell! It was transportin’ it somewhere, but we don’t know where. We took it and now we’re about to use it!” I could hear him quickly clacking over a keypad, rhythmic beeping telling me that I wanted to be outside that building as quickly as possible. Noticing a door at the back of the office, I jumped through it, coming face-to-face with a rather tall balcony. Rangers filed out as quickly as they could, uncovering skiffs that I would never have noticed without knowin’ what Ranger skiffs looked like.

“How’re we gonna get down-oh sweet Celestia, this is a bad idea!” Kite had grabbed me in his talons, holding me close as he dove off, his wings spreading and catching what little updraft he could, floating down to the Rangers below. Hollyweather held Misty while Grey cradled a Rivet Rifle battle-saddle, the trigger bit softly gripped in his teeth as he watched the remaining Enclave soldiers slowly crawl forward, their black battle armor a point o’ contention for anyone who had ever crossed ‘em. Of course, they did not get that far, as Rivet Rifles discharged again, tearing them apart. Grey shifted uncomfortable, my eyes drifting down to the Rivet Ranger armor he wore.

“Rangers to your skiffs! We leave-”

“You leave when I tell you to leave, groundwalker scum.” The gravelly voice of Colonel Autumn Shadow echoed in the rubble outside the Sparkleworks, a black… something floating overhead and aiming what appeared to be some kind of dish at the Rangers. I barely had time to react before Grey fired off his own weapon, splitting the dish directly in half and sending it careening away.

“Kite, we have ta get out o’ here!” Thankfully, the Rangers did not need to be told twice, loading up everyone they could onto sand skiffs. The rumble of large fan motors filled the area, making me question how safe their skiffs were, considering they used old rotor engines to propel them forward.

Jumping onto Kite’s personal skiff, we rocketed forward, Grey, Hollyweather, and Misty on another Ranger skiff holding on for dear life. Considering how fast the skiffs were going, it was unlikely-

“Hold on, this is gonna be rough!” With a shudder, the ground behind us began to give way, a rumbling and shining indicating the bomb had exploded. Sand turned to glass right behind every skiff, some skiffs exploding as the glassing reached them. Grey and Misty held each other tightly, Hollyweather staring at the explosion with fear in her eyes.

A final shudder shook through the ground as the glass began to collapse, a massive underground structure revealing itself from underneath the desert. I could feel the skiffs slowing down as Kite stared at the same sight I was gazing at.

“T-That’s an Equestrian military depot, not a Spark battery plant!” Almost as if it had been willed to, the flag that had once stood proudly above the building pierced the sand beside his skiff, scaring Kite half to death. I would have probably screamed if I had not been scared to see an entire buried military facility staring me in the face.

“Kite?”

“Yeah, Schooner?”

“Somethin’ tells me this is a whole lot bigger ‘n just somepony wantin’ a greenhouse.”

Author's Note:

Update:
Level Up!

Schooner has earned the Perk 'Desert Ranger'
Misty Falls has earned the Perk 'Experimental'
Hollyweather has earned the Perk 'Trauma Center'