Fallout Equestria: Blue Destiny

by MagnetBolt

Chapter 77: The Party's Over Now

“How are you doing in there?” Destiny asked, the speaker echoing in the next room. Lieutenant Brownie was lying on a diagnostic bed, a thin metal ring slowly rotating around him while it worked its way from the top of the bed to the foot.

“I don’t know what was in that shot, but I feel just fine,” the stallion said, trying to hold back a giggle.

“It was a double dose of Med-X,” Destiny said. “Let me know if you start to feel serious discomfort.”

“Will do,” the Lieutenant said, saluting.

“And don’t move!” Destiny warned. “We need a clean scan.”

“Sorry,” he said, getting back into position. Destiny switched off the microphone and sighed, looking over at me. “At least I can get a decent CAT scan on him. If I take them at intervals I can get an idea of how quickly SIVA is spreading.”

“Do you need to scan me?” I asked. I’d been sitting at the back, watching the screens and not really knowing what I was looking at. I’d seen plenty of books on biology but actually interpreting slices of a pony, all slightly blurry and out of focus unlike the clean specimens in the medical journals.

“I have no idea how I’d do that at this point,” Destiny said, not even looking back at me. “X-rays are out. The subdermal weave below your skin has enough heavy elements to make that useless. A PET scan has the same problem. And an MRI… I don’t even want to think about what that could do to you right now. For all I know it could rip your joints apart!”

“Oh,” I said, trying not to get sick at the thought. “What about, you know. Magic?”

“I don’t know any good diagnostic spells,” Destiny admitted. She swung around to look at me. “In theory, we could use the SIVA itself to self-report. Have you had any luck on your end?”

“Well…” I looked over at the table Destiny had given me. It was in another isolation room, separated by a pane of thick composite glass strong enough to keep an ocean at bay. Inside, lengths of slowly-pulsing plastic and metal tubing lay on the table like a horrible terrarium. “I tried getting the SIVA to listen to me, and I had some limited success.”

“Limited is better than zero.”

“I can get it to make simple stuff like flechettes for my gun.” I scratched my head. “It takes a while, though, and I can’t make it stop growing. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong there. I should be able to order it to just… not do anything!”

“It’s hard to say. Most of the repairs SIVA has made to you were done while you were incapacitated.” That was a very polite way for her to remind me how often I’d been beaten into unconsciousness. “One of the biggest problems with SIVA is the prospect of mutation. The micromachines are small enough and replicate quickly enough that they’re subject to a lot of the same pressures and responses of any true microorganism. You’ve been infected by no less than three separate varietals of SIVA, so we can’t even assume your local biome is the same as any of the base strains.”

“So that’s a fancy way of telling me I’m a walking plague.”

“I’d love to reassure you otherwise but it wouldn’t seem authentic considering what happened to this city.”

I sighed. “What about the Valkyrie?”

“The data for it is stored in the armor’s main database. We can’t recreate it without the diagrams.”

“Great,” I mumbled, kicking the wall. In the exam room, Lieutenant Brownie groaned and twitched. Destiny turned back to the monitors, scrolled through some settings, and slumped.

“You can’t stay, either,” she said. “You might not be able to make the SIVA stop growing, but your presence makes it worse. It must be responding to you on a subconscious level. When you got frustrated and kicked that wall, it made the growth inside the Lieutenant spike.”

“Can’t stay here, can’t go home,” I mumbled. “I just found you and I’ve got to leave again?”

“This time we can stay in touch. I’ve got an encrypted radio channel. Even Marshall Law won’t be able to listen in.”

I nodded, still feeling glum. “Better than nothing. I need somepony smarter than I am to double-check what I do. I keep having these flashes like… waking dreams.”

“Really?” Destiny tilted to one side. “Interesting. Are they my memories?”

“Not unless you’re a hippogriff teenager and you never told me.”

“So it’s not my implant? It must have something to do with SIVA… or brain damage.”

“Brain damage was one of my guesses, too,” I admitted.

“I’ll look into it. First, we need to get you out of the sector. Thankfully, I know exactly how to do that.”

---

“Yeah,” I said, scratching at my bandaged hoof. “The radroaches were carrying some kind of disease. I’m going to get some cream to try and clear it up.”

I was wearing Stable Security barding. There had been enough sets lying around that I’d been able to put together a full uniform without much blood on it. The itching was real, though. There’d been traces of Enferon on everything. It kept the SIVA zombies away but made me feel like itching powder had been poured down my collar.

“We got swarmed by them too,” the security pony mumbled, looking worried. “I got bitten twice. How bad is it?”

“Have you broken out in hives yet?” I asked. He shook his head. “What about shortness of breath, fatigue, or nausea?”

“I’ve felt tired and nauseous!” one of the other ponies put in.

“You should get checked out, just in case,” I said. “I’ve got these nasty spots like the ponypox. You wanna see?” I reached for the edge of the bandage.

“That’s okay, we don’t need to see it,” the officer said, stopping me. He’d started reaching for my hoof and stopped, not wanting to actually touch me. “Get cleared by medical before you report back on duty.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, saluting and walking away.

“I told you it would work,” Destiny said over the radio.

“I thought he’d recognize that I wasn’t one of his team,” I whispered. “He didn’t even ask me for my name!”

“There have been a lot of new faces since the outbreak. He probably hasn’t even been on the force all that long.”

“He was also afraid I’d infect him with something.”

“The best lies are based on the truth. So what are you going to do now?”

“First I’m going to buy some groceries. Then… I’m going to try and figure out how to get our armor back.”

---

Manzana wasn’t there when I got back to her apartment. I was halfway through putting the food away when somepony cleared their throat behind me. I jerked up in surprise, slammed my head on a shelf, and swore loudly.

“Looks like the rumors of your death are greatly exaggerated, eh lass?”

I spun around, and the flechette gun barked. Chum Buddy threw himself to the floor, darts barely missing him when he dove for cover.

“Are you trying to kill me on purpose or did I piss you off without knowing it?!” he yelped.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, letting go of the trigger. I looked past him at the damage. “Buck. I hope she doesn’t notice holes in her wall…”

Chum Buddy glanced back, shaking his head. “Better than holes in me.”

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, trying to take control of the situation a few moments too late. Maybe he’d mistake my accident as a warning shot even though I’d apologized. “Did Fabula send you?!”

“No! I saw you walking down the street and followed you,” he said. “I was supposed to be staking out this nice little flower shop to pick somethin’ pleasant out for Quiet, but I had to know just why you were comin’ back from the dead, and in a uniform like that!”

“I’m tougher than I look,” I said. “So are you working with her?”

“Am I working with the leader of the guild I belong to?” Chum Buddy asked slowly.

I growled, annoyed. “I mean, are you part of her little conspiracy to work with Stable Security?! Because if I find out you knew about this bucking mess with her and Sentinel and everything else--”

“Slow down, lass,” Chum Buddy pled, sitting back and holding up his hooves. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sentinel’s real name is Shore Leave,” I said. “Does that give you any hints?”

I saw Chum Buddy’s expression twist through confusion to disbelief to several flavors of shock before coming back to calm and composed. “That’s a tall tale for a little pony. Fabula said you got killed bucking up the Marshall Law thing.”

“She’s telling half of the truth. She’s the one who made sure it went bad. They’re all working together, and she tipped them off to make it nice and clean.”

“Should have suspected something when she spoke well of you at the wake, but I thought she was just being polite and not speaking ill of the dead no matter how clumsy and dangerous they are. No offense.”

“I’m clumsy and dangerous, I can cop to that.”

“And the uniform?” Chum Buddy asked.

“It’s a very clever disguise.”

“I suppose it at least keeps some ponies from bothering you,” he admitted. “Let’s say I mostly believe you. I still need some proof. Right now what it looks like is you were with Security all along and faked your death. It’s more plausible than Fabula, the leader of the fishin’ Guild itself, being with the opposition all along.”

“You’re right,” I conceded.

“Lucky for you, I got some spare time and I want to know the facts myself. Think you’re up for a little breaking and entering?”

---

“She lives here?” I asked, looking up at the tower. It rose at least two dozen stories above the armored glass of the Promenade’s street. It was mostly metal, glass and brass and stainless steel, with narrow pressure-proof windows and a facade like an old-world bank. It looked like money and power.

“Let it never be said that the Guild does not make good money for ponies that follow the rules,” Chum Buddy said. “This is one of the safest places in Seaquestria. There’s never been a theft, burglary, or murder here. Fabula always says that organized crime means you keep it away from where you live.”

“Great,” I said. “So what are we doing, going outside and breaking through a window?”

“Don’t be daft. That’d flood the whole place, and probably destroy any evidence you actually want to find. There aren’t even any entrances above this level. We’ll have to walk in the front door like a couple of respectable ponies.”

I grunted in annoyance.

“Oh sure, now you want to swim,” Chum Buddy joked. “Come on, girl. I’m putting up with you wearing that uniform, you can at least try not to look like a thug with a badge pinned to your chest and stuffed into riot gear.”

“Wouldn’t that just sell the disguise more?” I asked.

“Point taken. Smarter than you look, lass. Almost like a crook!”

Chum Buddy smirked and walked up to the ornate front doors. A pony in a uniform stood there. It had probably once been fairly modest, just a suit and hat, but over time and years it had gained medals and touches meant to radiate authority and show off the worth of those whose doorsteps the pony guarded.

He held up a hoof. “Residents only,” he said.

“Don’t you recognize me?” Chum Buddy asked. He held out his hoof for the doorpony to shake. The pony frowned and looked down at his hoof when they came apart. He was holding a few shells.

“Is this supposed to be a bribe?” the pony asked.

“You can consider it a tip for good service,” Chum Buddy corrected. “Now, if you’ll excuse me--”

He tried to step around the pony, and the guard stopped him again.

“Nope,” he said, pocketing the clams. “This door doesn’t open up for bribes. Authorized ponies only.”

“You can’t say that after you take my money!” Chum Buddy hissed. “It’s impolite!”

“You can consider it a tax for being an idiot and trying to get me fired,” the pony said mockingly. “Get out of here before I call Stable Security and have you taken away to some deep dark hole in the ground. Or maybe I should just tell Fabula directly. I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t--” Chum Buddy groaned.

“In fact, there’s somepony right there,” the doorpony said, waving to me. “Hey, officer!”

I pointed to myself, confused for a moment. He nodded and I shrugged, walking over.

“Can I help you?” I asked. I adjusted my borrowed uniform. It still itched a little, but I was starting to really feel in-character. It still didn’t fit as well as one of the fancy Enclave uniforms I’d gotten from Polar Orbit ages ago, but buck knows where those things had gotten to.

“Yeah. I need this guy trespassed,” the stallion said, motioning to Chum Buddy. “It might help him get the message if you take him up and down some stairs on the way to the station and make sure he’s a little clumsy--”

“Sir, I need you to calm down!” I said more loudly.

“What?” the doorpony’s expression soured. “What are you--”

“Sir, that kind of language is inappropriate!” I bellowed. “I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the station with me!”

“I am not leaving my post! What’s your badge number? You’re obviously new!”

“This is your last chance to cooperate,” I said.

He poked me in the chest, his hoof pressing into the padded stab-resistant vest. “I’ll have your badge by the end of the day. When your superiors hear about this--”

I grabbed his hoof before he could finish the sentence and just held it in place. He tried to move and blinked in surprise when he couldn’t. He planted his other hooves more firmly and used his body weight. I just let him struggle, not even straining.

“How’s this working out for you?” I whispered, twisting his fetlock a little. I heard his elbow pop. He winced and looked over at Chum Buddy like he’d find support there.

“Sorry,” the unicorn said with a shrug. “I don’t want to get involved in legitimate police activity.”

“Let me go!” the doorpony yelped. I twisted just a little more. “I’m sorry!”

“You should have thought of that before you decided to resist arrest!” I yelled. The ponies watching us winced. They knew what was coming next.

Honestly, he was lucky I wasn’t really with Security. Sure, I put him face-down on the pavement and hit him a few times before dragging him away in cuffs, but he still had all his teeth when I left him under a few trashbags in the nearest alleyway. As long as he got a decent shower he’d be as good as new once the bruises went away.

“Do you solve all your problems with violence?” Chum Buddy asked.

I held the door open for him, letting him inside and following him in. “Have you ever successfully bribed a pony and gotten what you wanted from them?”

He scowled at me, pretending to be annoyed. He tapped the button for the elevator. “Let’s just get in and out of here before Fabula knows anypony’s onto her.”

---

“She has this whole floor to herself?” I trotted slowly on plush carpets, the kind that hadn’t been made since the war. These were bright and colorful and not even a little musty despite being at the bottom of the ocean. That meant the floor alone represented more material wealth than I’d ever had in my life.

“Aye,” Chum said. “I’ve only been here once before.”

I raised an eyebrow. Chum Buddy looked over at me, and I wiggled my other eyebrow in a suggestive way.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked. “You’ve got a twitch.”

“I was trying to subtly imply that you and Fabula, you know.”

“Oy! Never do that with your boss,” Chum Buddy warned. “It always ends badly. Course, saying no is also a bad idea. Really, either way sounds like you’d get put in the corner. Point is, I was here delivering packages.”

“What kind of package--”

Chum Buddy sighed. “I know you’re not into her, so don’t imply she’s my type either. Maybe I like stallions, eh? You don’t know!”

“Whatever. So what are we looking for?”

“She’s got an intelligence network everywhere,” Chum Buddy said. “She must have some kind of files. Look for a terminal. If we’re really lucky, she might have something on paper. It probably won’t be out in the open.”

“Right.” I nodded and opened a cabinet, finding a selection of delicate glass bottles. I did the responsible thing and went through it in detail, looking for secret files and decent vodka.

“Chamomile, it’s probably not in her liquor cabinet.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were a thief. I thought you might enjoy stealing some stuff while we were breaking into this place,” I said. I took two bottles out along with some brandy, but left her the scotch. One sniff told me that stuff was a little more earthy and peaty and woody than I liked. “Besides, this is medication. I’m a little traumatized after being killed again.”

Chum Buddy rolled his eyes and walked over to the next room, trying to ignore me. I knew I wasn’t likely to actually find anything secret, but that was half the reason I brought him. I busied myself staying out of the way and eating the snacks from her cupboards. I was halfway through a bag of kale chips and smacking my lips, trying to decide if I liked the flavor, when he reappeared.

“If you’re just about done, I think I might have something,” Chum Buddy said. He waved for me to follow him. He led me to a wall. “What do you see here?”

“A bookcase?” I shrugged. I knew that wasn’t going to be the only thing, so I looked closer. “It’s built flush to the wall. Perfectly flush.”

“Aye. And if you look at the carpet…”

I looked down. There was a semi-circle where the carpet was brushed to the side. “I get it. This is a door.”

I grabbed the edge of the bookcase and pulled. It didn’t move.

“It’s got some kind of secret catch,” Chum Buddy said. He started tugging at books, pulling them off the bookcase and stacking them behind us. “It’ll only take a moment--”

I tapped the wall next to the bookcase. It sounded like hollow plaster and drywall. This seemed like another problem that could be solved with violence. I lowered my head and charged, smashing through the thin wall and into the space beyond in a cloud of gypsum dust.

A moment later, the bookcase clicked and opened on a hidden hinge. Chum Buddy stepped through the secret door and stood next to me, glaring.

“Really?” he asked. “You couldn’t wait one minute for me to get it open?”

“Which one of us got here first?” I asked.

“You realize that if you left her drinks alone, didn’t eat all her snacks, and let me pop this door open, there’d be a good chance Fabula wouldn’t ever know we were even here?” Chum Buddy asked. “Now she’s going to know the second she walks in that somepony tossed the place!”

“She’s going to know either way,” I said. “The doorpony can give her a positive ID that you bribed him to get in.”

“That’s…” Chum Buddy scowled. “A better point than I wanted you to make.”

“Sometimes my own brilliance astounds me,” I said sarcastically. “So where does this go?” I looked around. The room was bigger than Manzana’s whole apartment, but with Fabula using the entire floor it would have been easy to miss. I squinted into the gloom and felt around on the wall until I felt a toggle.

A dozen screens burst into light, the entire wall a circle of monitors around a chair littered with cups of instant noodles and empty bottles of Sparkle-cola.

“Look at this,” Chum Buddy said breathlessly. “These are all feeds from security cameras!”

He found a keyboard and brushed papers off of it, tapping a few keys. The feed on one of the screens zoomed and moved.

“She must have been watching everypony in Seaquestria,” I said. “She’s even got cameras in the Dark Sector.”

“Must be old. Not much reason to look in there now,” Chum Buddy mumbled. “We don’t even go looting there for salvage.”

“Good. It’s too dangerous.” I found one screen that wasn’t just a camera feed. Instead, it was asking for a Stable-tec login. I held my hoof to my ear.

“Destiny, you there?” I asked.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she replied. “Good news! Once you left, the infection on Lieutenant Brownie really slowed down. I think as long as you keep your distance I can keep his infection under control with just Enferon while I look for a permanent solution.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Can you help me out with hacking a terminal?”

“Is this a matter of life or death?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. Start by holding down the Home and F12 keys…”

She walked me through the steps, getting increasingly frustrated when I didn’t describe what was on the screen well enough for her. Eventually, with a little trial and error and one emergency reboot before security could lock the terminal permanently, I was in.

“Look at that,” Chum Buddy said, reading over my shoulder. “That explains what the rest of this is. She’s storing a lot of footage.”

“Yeah she is,” I said quietly. “If we’re lucky, maybe even the right footage. I need the dates of the riot in the Dark Sector. I think I know what to look for.”

---

Deep Blue was a smaller pony than I’d expected. Sentinel, or really Shore Leave, stood a head taller than him. Deep Blue looked like the kind of pony I’d have bullied back in school.

“It’s a good deal,” Shore Leave said. “There’s going to be a big crackdown after this. We can either get stomped on, or we can do the stomping. I know which side I want to be on.”

He winced, touching his face. A bandage was wrapped around his neck and head, covering one eye.

The three of them, Shore Leave, Deep Blue, and Fabula, were together in what must have been some kind of cafe. I couldn’t make out much through the feed, which was scratchy and blurry, but the screams and fire outside were clear. It must have been the middle of the Riots.

“Are you okay?” Fabula asked.

“That damn crazy pony got me good,” Shore Leave rumbled.

“They’re not the only crazy ponies down here,” Deep Blue countered. “Accepting that deal from Marshall Law is insane! What he’s really asking is for us to turn stool pigeon on everypony who trusts us!”

“Do we have a choice?” Fabula asked. She shuffled her deck, dealing a few cards onto the table. “They know our names. They know our faces. If we don’t agree, others will be more opportunistic. We’ll only be offering ourselves up as the first against the wall.”

“See? She knows,” Shore Leave nodded to Fabula. “Besides, think of the benefits. Kickbacks. Jobs with no police investigation. No more worrying about raids. And all we have to do is treat them like any other client.”

“This is different,” Deep Blue said. “It’s not a client, it’s treason!”

Shore Leave stepped over to Fabula and looked down at her cards. She nodded.

He nodded back, turned, and shot, firing his air rifle into Deep Blue, then trotted over and fired a few more times into his head while the pony was lying on the floor, gurgling for breath.

“Guess there’s no honor among thieves after all,” Shore Leave said mildly. “Fabula, I’m assuming you’re smarter than him.”

“I’m loyal to money and power,” Fabula chuckled.

“We’ll have plenty of both. Come on. We’ll meet with Marshall Law and tell him we accept his deal. We’ll need to come up with a good story. And get some bucking medical supplies. This scratch is starting to really hurt.”

Fabula put her cards away and glanced up at the camera before helping Shore Leave out, leaving Deep Blue’s body where it lay.

---

“So that’s what we found,” Chum Buddy said, when the recording finished. The Cantina had gone silent, even the live band stopping their performance at the show. It was only a small screen, a terminal on a cart wheeled out into the bar, but everypony had clustered around it.

“It can’t be true,” Quiet whispered. She was already crying. “Shore Leave wouldn’t do that! He was-- He was--!”

“He’s Sentinel now,” I said. I tilted my head up and let them see the scar on my neck from where he’d slit my throat. “He did his best to put me down for good. Now that you all know this, you’re not safe either.”

“I was happier not knowing,” Quiet whispered.

“You were being used as a hostage,” Chum Buddy said. “They wanted to force your father to vote a certain way, and he did. I don’t fancy knowing what they’re plotting on doing with you now that you’re not useful. They might just ship you home, or keep you until he pays a ransom.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “The point is, all of you have been betrayed. And that pony in the back is trying to slip out before I notice him!”

Heads turned, and everypony looked over at an earth pony who was nearly at the door, crawling low in the dark. Without me even having to ask, two ponies in Stable utility barding with the extra pockets I was learning to associate with the Guild grabbed him and dragged him in front of the crowd.

“Let me guess,” I said. “You were going to run to Fabula.”

“You don’t understand,” the pony whined. “You heard what they said! They’re right! If we don’t work with them, we’ll get stomped down! They’ll put us right on the front lines of Project H!”

“Project H?” Now that was interesting. “You know about Project H?”

“Only the basics,” he mumbled. “Fabula had me sabotage the Briney job when Chum Buddy went on it. The plan was to have the Dark Sector flooded and use sedated workers on gillwater to clean the place out. They wouldn’t run away or disobey orders.”

“That’s not the most evil plan possible,” Chum Buddy mumbled.

“Except with no cure, any workers going in and even getting a scratch would get infected by SIVA,” I said. Everypony looked at me. I shook my head. “It’s a long story. It’s bad stuff, you don’t want to get infected. Basically a death sentence, but you turn into a crazy, rioting pony first.”

“Is that what happened during the riots?” somepony asked.

“Where did it come from?” asked another.

“Let’s, uh, let’s not get bogged down in details,” I warned. “We need to focus. Fabula is going to know something’s wrong really fast. Even if there aren’t any other spies here, she’s not stupid.”

“I have to go home,” Quiet Seascape said.

I looked over at her. She was wringing her talons, obviously nervous.

“It’s my dad,” she explained, her tone hesitant like she was talking about throwing herself onto a sword. “We can’t do much here, but he can. If I tell him what’s going on with Stable Security, he can do something about it.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“He can tell the royal family about it,” Quiet said. Everypony groaned. She looked around at the crowd, who had clearly and instantly lost confidence in the plan. “The Queen is a good person! She can put a stop to everything just by ordering it!”

“She’s a crabbin’ figurehead!” somepony in the back yelled.

“Just because she doesn’t use her power much and lets the Senate run things doesn’t mean she’s a bad ruler,” Quiet retorted. “Besides, she’s been really nice to me every time I met her.”

“Let’s call that plan A,” I said, holding up a hoof to the groans of everypony in the Cantina.

“Who died and made you the leader?” another pony yelled.

“If you’ve got a better plan, I’m all ears,” I said. “Exposing Fabula, Marshall Law, and Shore Leave--”

“Exposes all of us!” somepony groaned loudly.

“Yeah, it does,” I admitted. “So when we’re done here, everypony in this place should go to ground. Change your names, find somewhere else to sleep. It’s a good idea no matter if we win or lose. Me, I’m not smart enough to go into hiding, so I’m gonna work on plan B.”

“We’ve got a plan B?” Chum Buddy asked.

“Plan B is always running directly at the enemy with a knife,” I said. “I just need a little more nuance this time so I don’t end up dead again.”

My radio crackled. “Chamomile, we’ve got an emergency,” Destiny said.

I held up a hoof for Chum Buddy to wait a moment and tapped my radio. “How big is the emergency?” I asked. “I can only deal with one at a time.”

“I’d rate this particular emergency in terms of megatons,” Destiny reported. “I’ve been ordered to evacuate. They’re abandoning plans to cure and salvage this city sector, and they’re going with plan B.”

“Which is… to run directly at the enemy with a knife?” I asked. Chum Buddy raised an eyebrow. I shrugged.

“Yes, except in this case the knife is a megaspell! For some reason they think radroaches escaped containment and might spread SIVA across the rest of the city! They won’t listen to reason!”

“Damnit,” I mumbled. “Can you delay it?”

“A few hours at most. They want to move the equipment we brought in.”

I bit my lip, trying to decide if it was better to just let them blow the Dark Sector into a crater or not. It’d nearly cover up my mistakes. It would also kill Stars knew how many ponies that could be saved if we found a way to cure them instead of vaporizing them.

“Chamomile, I know what you’re thinking,” Destiny said quietly. “Blowing this place up with a megaspell is only going to let the problem spread unseen, and it’s going to be worse than ever within a year. I haven’t reported it, but--”

“Infected fish?” I asked, remembering one of the visions I’d had.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“It was just a really good guess,” I sighed. “Quiet, you need to get in touch with your dad right away. Destiny… I hope you’ve got a plan for stopping the megaspell.”

“I hacked into the Stable database. I know where the launch system is housed. You need to destroy something called the Nightingale. Think you’re up for breaking into a military base and smashing some stuff?”

Comments

[Ahsoka Tano]

Cham always scuffing up everything lol.

[Medic Olkie]

I love how this is just Skyrim, but Fallout-ponified