• Published 4th Apr 2013
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Fallout: Equestria - Gaia Prevails - John Colt



The Wastelands! Where everyone is his special kind of crazy. I can, however, claim that I'm special! Nightmare freaking Moon wants me to be her new host. Umm... fun stuff...

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Chapter Five: Return

Chapter Five

Return

“Aideen’s Audiolog. February 7, 1247. I had an interesting encounter yesterday with the person who is controlling the sprite-bots. I’m not even sure why I told him the things I told him.



Within 24 hours after arriving in Hufstein I made two friends, one of which is ‘Watcher - the observer of the wastelands’, I made a morally right choice of standing up to represent an entire species of silverbugs, I got a house, I made lots of money from repair-jobs, I even have a sense of money now. I also saw a job were I could set up a server, write a program and maintain it; I could get a day job. Summing all that up, things seem pretty good for me.

Of course, there was also a downside to my life since I arrived here. In the best interest of the town, the mayor decided to kill my first real friend and the silverbugs in cold blood. I found out what happens if you stand up for something others don’t agree with, or if you make yourself hopes. It hurts if it gets crushed; it hurts badly, to be honest.

But there was as little sense in crying about Quick Shot as there was in trying to repair a toaster of a zebra. Okay, I touched Nightmare Moon's armor, and somehow zebras can sense that, but that was no reason to be incredibly rude or even outright hostile towards somepony who wants to do the job you wrote on the bulletin board.

I think I would have been angry at them, but screaming out my rage in the wasteland and talking everything off my soul had been really, really therapeutic. I have always been a master in endurance; I’m not proud on how I acquired that skill, but I would be stupid not to use it.

Armed with a new set of tools, bought with with the money I got for... taking care of the silverbugs, I was able to do almost every repair job available in Hufstein. From toasters to room-sized engines I could repair or calibrate it, as long as the owner allowed me to.

After an unusual day of work I investigated the four walls I’ll call home from now on. A semi-detached house; it was... big. The entrance room was as big as the room I called my own in the Crimson Company. On the ground floor was a big room (which will serve as a living- and dining-room), a toilet and a kitchen. In the basement was nothing but storage space, and a broken generator I was able to fix within minutes. Upstairs were three empty rooms of which two shared a balcony, and a big bathroom with shower and bathtub.

I had no idea what I’m going to do with all that, so for now I’m going to blow up my inflatable mattress and sleep in the middle of the only room I feel comfortable in: the smallest one, the entrance room.

*** *** ***

Where is my life going?

I have no idea what is going to happen to me now. What tomorrow might hold in store for me, or the day after that, or even next week. I don’t know. I have bought a house, that was a stupid idea. The Crimson Company is going to look for their missing group... DAMN. Today’s the 6th. Wait... The mission started on January 30th, we expected a three day journey – February 2nd – we arrived on time, we might spend a day – February 3rd – and another three days to get back – yesterday, February 6th.

They were expected to return last night and today they are going to send another group, a bigger one this time; and they will arrive in another three days – February 10th. If I go back tomorrow I could make it there in less than two days – February 9th. I can’t let them have that facility. This is what I know. I CANNOT let them have this facility... Gaia Prevails... It was part of my life now. A pre-apocalyptic organization and stopping a slaver war seems easier to figure out than what I’m going to eat for dinner today.

The Memorhedron had a day and a half to recharge. The more information I have about them, the better any plan I might be able to put together will be.

> Memorhedron is charging 82%
> Memorhedron is safe to use.
> Next memory in queue: Dinner - September 17, 982
> Length: 0 hours 48 minutes 34 seconds.
> Load memory?

‘82%’ and ‘safe for use’ are not reassuring. I know what happens to ponies who watch corrupted memories, but then again the memories on this thing are of the inventor of the memory-orbs, a pony with very high standards. ‘Safe for use’ and ‘82%’ will have to do, I have to know. Using up 48 minutes I could use to go back seemed wrong, but if my calculation is right a single hour won't make much of an difference.

> Load memory?
> load

<=======vvV Vvv=======>

I was Spellfield again, at least it felt the same as him. I don't know yet what makes him different from other unicorn stallions, but he had a very distinctive… what do you call it? The feeling of possessing someone? It doesn't matter.

The memory slowly formed around me. He was reading a non-existing book, I knew it was there but the Memorhedron hadn’t... I don't know... loaded(?) the book. If it is a high-quality product (as I expect it to be), it only leaves out the unimportant parts of the memory.

I couldn't distinguish where it comes from, but I heard a knock coming from somewhere. I could feel Spellfield frowning. He wasn't expecting anyone, I guess. “Can you get it?” A female voice said, the source was as indistinguishable as the knock had been.

“Sure thing.” I felt Spellfields lips and tongue moving, but again I wouldn't be able to place the noise as coming from anywhere. The memory was entirely view- but not enjoy -able. As Spellfield walked to the door I could partially see his house; it was certainly bigger than mine and it was furnished. From the objects that have loaded into the memory I could tell he had good taste.

It was knocking again, louder this time, but I assume it was only louder because I was nearer to the source. Spellfield opened the door and revealed Bright Skies. She looked exactly like I remember her from yesterday, from five years ago, only she was wearing a raincoat. “Doctor Spellfield, it is nice to meet you again.” She slightly bowed out of respect.

“Pri-” He bowed too, way deeper than a normal gesture of greeting would be. It assured me in my theory of who Bright Skies is. “Bright Skies... if memory serves. Please, come in.” He made place for her to step inside. “I was wondering if you would come after... well, you know.”

“Who is at the door, honey?” The same female voice from earlier. He was living with a mare in this house, and she called him ‘honey’, he was married? Sure, he had every right to be with a mare, but it somehow came unexpectedly.

“A former business associate of mine.”

“Well then ask him to stay for dinner.” ‘Him.’

“It’s not a him, dear. But I’ll ask her.” He shouted back into the house, then scratched his head. “We are not having anything... ‘royal’ for dinner.” I’m now quite sure who has disguised herself as Bright Skies. “But my wife is an excellent cook.”

“I don’t want to be a bother. We just need to talk.”

“I’m afraid my wife is going to insist. I know why you are here, so although we cannot talk freely we can work around that.”

“As you wish.” She nodded and finally stepped inside.

Out of courtesy Spellfield helped her take off the raincoat. I wasn’t used to that kind of situation, where a stallion actually behaved gently, but it didn’t feel awkward, he was used to that kind of thing. Rich, polite, intelligent, now I only need to get a good look at him in the mirror. Thankfully there is one next to the coat rack.

He was... not at all what I expected. I wouldn’t have even thought this was possible. Spellfield was a pony-zebra hybrid. It made sense now why he didn’t feel like a regular unicorn. More pony than zebra, he has pony build and pony features, even a cutiemark which looked out of place on the only zebra-feature he has: a light grey and black, striped coat. If I wouldn’t have grown to dislike zebras I would have probably given him more than an ‘average’.

His cutiemark was what looked like a crescent moon open on the bottom, a five pointed star was inside, the stars top point sticking out over the moon, to both sides were wings. I could only come up with one explanation for it, ‘celestial tier magic’, which I believe he is capable of.

They walked into the house's dining room where a zebra mare was just placing a third plate for their guest. “Good evening. It’s always a pleasure to meet some of Spell's friends.” She bowed respectfully as deep as her state allowed it. I don’t even know why seeing a mare pregnant was catching me so of guard. “My name is Sarina. I’m Spellfield's wife.” Was she marking her territory? Princess Celestia's disguise was pretty, sure, but... Sarina was pregnant.

Princess Celestia bowed in return. “Bright Skies, at your service.” She looked towards me, or Spellfield, to be exact. “I knew Dr. Spellfield was married, but I did not know the two of you have a foal on the way. My congratulations!”

Happy with Princess Celestia's answer Sarina smiled. “Thank you.”

“Now, Ms. Skies, how come you are honoring us with a visit this rainy evening?”

“It’s about the project you were working on five years ago. You remember?”

“Of course, how could I forget something like that? We... did everything we could and the last five years it was in refinement. It was due just a few weeks ago, right?”

“Yes. That is why I’m here. We have the result now. You were working together with Star Sparkle at that time, right?”

Sarina was eying Spellfield when that name fell. She knows who Star Sparkle was.

“Yes...”

“She had her second child just a few weeks ago too. Little Twilight Sparkle... your child would be the a similar age, do you think-”

“Bright, you are deliberately trying to avoid the topic.”

“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t talk about your former marefriend when your wife is pregnant.” Spellfield had been together with Twilight Sparkle's mother?

“No, you shouldn’t. So: the project. The... uhmm... it is in place, exactly how we arranged it to be. That means the future looks bright now.” Twilight Sparkle was born, do they think Twilight's presence would avert the war?

“I know what this cost you,” What it cost him? Star Sparkle. They knew Night Light was Twilight's father, but as long as Spellfield was dating Star Sparkle Twilight wouldn’t have been born. Break up with the mare you love and safe the world in the progress? This is so wrong... and far fetched. They were intelligent ponies, how could they have thought this would help? “No.”

“No?”

“The future, while unpredictable, can still result in what we were trying to avert.”

“So we failed?” Yes, the war will happen, but with Twilight Sparkle present. One more pony to burn.

“ No No, it is just... new variables have come up. We can still arrange everything in our best interest.” But I already know the outcome. “I came here today because I want to make you an offer. I have an idea how to proceed.”

“Honey, what is going on?” If I hadn't known what they were talking about I would be supremely confused too.

He ignored his wife. “Then what do you offer?”

“Spellfield?”

“We have to shape it... We need information. Tomorrow you will apply as head-administrator in the Royal Canterlot Library, I’m quite certain you’ll get the job without problems.” Of course not, she would give it to him.

Sarina was shocked. “The Royal Canterlot Library?” This surely was a prestigious job.

“Your plan is on channeling the right information.” I know Twilight had learned a lot about magic in self-study before she even applied to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, and became Princess Celestia's personal protege. For self-study you need a library, and in best-case scenario a librarian who helps you find the right books.

“Spellfield! What is going on!?”

“I'm sorry dear.” He leaned over to his wife and gave her a kiss. “Sometimes ‘confidentiality’ is in the job description. This was the case in the contract I signed with Ms. Skies. We are talking cryptic for a reason.”

“Oh, okay. Should I leave the room then?” Suddenly she was very understanding.

“No, it’s okay, I guess. We already have figured out the essentials.”

“Well then, good timing, I believe the dressing is ready.”

*** *** ***

“Dr. Spellfield is right, Sarina, you are an excellent cook.” This was torture.

“Thank you Ms. Skies, I always do my best.” I have to watch their faces adorned with delighted expressions.

“We always do our best. ‘There are two ways to do things, why not choose the right one.’ Be your best at all times and you become a better equine by force of habit.” I felt Spellfield eating the salad.

“That is a respectful way of living.” But the memory hasn’t loaded taste.

“And being a good cook has always been expected of me.” What?

“What do you mean?”

“Well... ponies usually react in strange ways about this, but Spellfield and I had an arranged marriage.” Oh. It made sense now why she had ‘marked her territory’ earlier. Of Stable Eight I only know arranged partnerships. But I know ‘marriage’ was a big deal in pre-war Equestria.

“Oh...” Princess Celestia looked over to Spellfield. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” They told her in unison, then giggled about that. If I’m right then Celestia assumes Spellfield only married Sarina because he had broken up with Star Sparkle. This prophecy thing doesn’t affect me but it still makes my head hurt.

He took Sarinas hoof and smiled to her. “We simply learned to love each other.” It’s not like he had any other options other than be miserable... or have an affair.

“I had an arranged marriage too...” WHAT? The face of Bright Skies was sad and she just pecked at her salad.

“Pri-” He almost misspoke. “-ght Skies I didn’t-”

She interrupted him. “He died.” I felt how Spellfield gulped. Celestia had been married? “I never had the chance of learning how to love him. I envy the two of you.”

“I’m sorry-”

She continued talking. “They expected me to grieve, but I never did; I never cried. Don’t be sorry for me, it was –what felt like – an eternity ago.”

I could see Sarina's mouth moving, but no more words came out; now the memory left out sound. I was just about to think the memory now became completely unwatchable when it ended on its own terms.

<=======ʌʌɅ Ʌʌʌ=======>

> Save position in queue.
> Memorhedron is charging. 0%
> Not ready for use.

It has to have been an eternity ago, Celestia was never married in recorded history. I always imagined Celestia as an unreachable goddess. Now, although she was disguised, she was right in front of me, and even though she denies it, she is in need of comforting.

Hmm..? I could feel someone was in the room with me. “Look at you.” What is SHE doing here? “You waived your right to be surprised about intruders when you forgot to lock your door. Next time you go on a trip down memory lane, for like an hour or so... you know, just lock your door.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I’m stalking you, remember? So far I haven’t received a court order, so I thought you might secretly love it when I come over.”

“I uh...” What can you answer to that? “How did you find me?”

“Never lost you. You remember when you were blacked out? No of course you don’t, after all you were blacked out. I hijacked your PipBuck; I have your location-tag here and everything. You going into a residential area of Hufstein seemed weird enough. Especially since you really aren’t the type of pony who just spends the night in some guy's bed or squatting somewhere.”

“I bought this house.”

“Yes I know, I listened to the recordings I made while you were out.”

“Recordings?”

“Your PipBuck is on auto-record and data transfer.” Oh shit.

“You... you heard everything?” What would Craft do with the information she got from me?

“I’ve heard enough.” She said with a smile. Not reassuring! “My condolences on cute-one.” She didn’t look at all like she meant it.

“His name was Quick Shot!” Why am I suddenly so angry again?

“So you swore revenge on the mayor, right?”

“No...”

“You get angry when I don’t call him by his name, but you have no intentions of seeking revenge, why is that?”

“What am I supposed to do in your opinion? Enlighten me!”

“You should take some anger management. I’m no doctor but I’m a follower of destruction-therapy: Peace by sledgehammer! You understand, right? For example: You take the mayors head and...” Craft gestured with her hooves to crush something and made a cracking noise. “Until you’re satisfied.”

“I should kill him? Brilliant plan! Not like the whole town would be after me then, if I even get to him.”

“I meant crushing him figuratively. It was a business decision to kill your friend. How do you crush a
businessman?”

“I crush his business... his pride, but... he’s the mayor. I cannot... destroy Hufstein... or what are you implying?”

“You go straight to destruction again. Way more subtle, way more... evil. I bet you saw those posters hanging around? What makes Hufstein so special is the fact it’s democratic, and they really do a good job at democracy. Would be a shame if he loses his re-election, right?”

“You want me to run for mayor?”

“Are you kidding me? You practically have zebra repellant on you. You won't win a popularity contest in this town. No, you only have to make him lose.”

“And how do you figure I do that?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked. You would probably need someone with somepony who knows a little something about how to run an election.”

She just wants me to ask. “Do you...” It feels like she is making me beg. “Do you know how to run an election?”

“Run one? Heavens no! Manipulating one on the other hoof...” Of course she does.

“What do you want? I don’t have much money.”

“Well, I obtained information of an interesting facility.”

“Oh gosh... What do you want?”

“Half.” Whatever I expected this was certainly not it. The things in there are pretty valuable... even Nightmare Moon's armor might find somepony who’ll buy it, but can under no circumstances allow Nightmare Moon's influence to spread. But other than that... I would be able to keep the rest, right? Before that can happen I need to protect it from the Crimson Company first and for that...

“You are going to need my help claiming it anyway, or do you already have any good strategies lined up? Because, you know, we are not the only one after it.”

“You want half?”

“Of course you’ll be wanting the armor for yourself, which accounts for a lot of money so of the salable stuff I’ll get most.”

“No...”

“Okay, here’s what’s going through my mind: I have a plan to claim it for ourselves, I have the proper knowledge how to make the most money with the stuff in there, you kinda only know where it is. You maybe think you can come up with something on the way there, but let’s be honest: You’re no mastermind.”

“Nightmare Moon will kill you just like the rest of them. I don’t wa-”

“You don’t want me to die? Aww...” Craft petted my head. “Then why are you afraid of the Crimson Company getting their hooves on it if she'll just kill everyone in sight?”

“I... I ahh...”

“Of course we have to be smart. I’d like to survive this. But for now time is of the essence. The Company will send another team to this facility right? We need to get there before they do.”

“Yes, yes, ahm...” Time is an important factor. And I really need a plan. Though I will have to watch out for her. Craft is somewhat unpredictable at times. “But first I want you to give me some information!”

“Well that’s what I do best, but what do you want?"

“I need to know everything you know about Gaia Prevails.”

*** *** ***

We each stocked up a week's worth of food and traveled through the wasteland together again. While we were walking she told me everything she knew about Gaia Prevails, just like we agreed on. She couldn’t tell me much I didn’t already know or had managed to piece together myself. What she hasn’t caught up on was that Spellfield and Princess Celestia are most likely the head and probably only members of the most dangerous resistance-group to have ever existed. Craft hasn’t seen the memories like I did.

The reason why I had troubles piecing it together myself was a simple question: Why in the world would Celestia, the ruler of Equestria, be a resistance fighter against her own government? Because stuff happened, that’s why. I don’t make myself any illusions; I don’t know how politics work. How can the war even start when Celestia was against it from the very beginning? I don’t know.

But as Celestia was already plotting with Spellfield in secrecy she simply kept doing things in secrecy; things she could have never done as official symbol of the nation. A symbol has to show strength, not make the ponies doubt things. When they stole technology, the budget had to be remade and as it seems the cruel things weren’t approved a second time. However, they left those things who lead to a fast end. And the megaspells indeed ended the war, just not the way anyone intended it to.

The most interesting piece of information Craft could give me was about a spell that had been created by them: Vox Populi, a voice-altering spell. Different from other voice-altering spells it wasn’t re-traceable. The vocal cords of the user will swing in a specific matter and sound alike no matter who talks. It was dangerous for ponies to voice their opinion, and Vox Populi became a tool for every pony and zebra wanting to do so.

The spell was outlawed and a DJ in Manehatten, a personal friend of the ministry mare Pinkie Pie, was arrested for using it in one of her songs. Due to its high sophistication, simplicity of usage and effectiveness as a disguise, it ended up being examined in the Manehatten-hub of the Ministry of Acrane Science, where it remained. As a tribute to the DJ and Gaia Prevails somepony came up with the idea of using this spell and the name ‘DJ Pon-3’ to broadcast the truth across Equestria.

Everything is connected.

*** *** ***

We agreed to stop in the same shack for the night again. Craft even assured me she wont disappear this time; she is funny like that, but I quickly was under the impression overcompensating how she actually feels. The more attention I pay to her behavior, the more seemed wrong with her.

“Craft? Can I ask you something personal?”

“No.” The answer didn’t surprise me, I actually would have been surprised if she would have given me that allowance, but... “You’re a free pony, and you are going to ask anyway, so ask. Just don’t expect an answer.”

“Okay... It is something watcher said. I should find my virtue. What would be yours?”

“Ahahahaha... really? That is what’s on your mind? I’ll give you this advice out of courtesy, because I like you: Get that virtue crap out of your head quick before it makes you woozy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Religion is nice, you know. And it’s not my position to judge others for their beliefs.” But she is going to do it anyway. “But most of them are messed up.”

“What do virtues have to do with religion?”

“Well, this whole ‘searching for your virtue’-thing started after the six mares, who later became the heads of each ministry, defeated Nightmare Moon and purged Princess Luna. They each discovered their virtue and were only then able to defeat her. Theirs were Loyalty, Honesty, Kindness, Generosity, Laughter and Magic. And in this very definition, it is already messed up. Laughter? Seriously? Why not happiness? Happiness is a way better word for what Laughter should resemble.”

I knew about the Elements of Harmony, but I never knew ponies made a religion out of it. Craft’s argument was... “That’s only a matter of phrasing... isn’t it? Why do you seem angry about it?”

“I’m not angry, I only express my opinion. Second thing: the part that really screws the pooch of the virtue thing: ‘Magic’! Magic? That is no virtue in any way! Magic is something every unicorn can manipulate at will. Every pegasi and griffin has it to manipulate clouds and even fly although it would be physically impossible, every earth pony has it, although in a more subtle way, and every zebra has it, but theirs is really weird; don’t try to understand zebra-magic. Magic isn't a character-trait, it is a skill. It might be some ponies' special talent, but it is not a virtue.”

“I see... But a religion is about-”

She cut me off. “They are about making their believers feel better. The meaning of living and life-after-death, things like that. Religion is... for the easy manipulatable. I’m not a pessimist, I’m a realist. I know the world is fucked up. Religion indicates moral values, making the world a fair and happy place! But that’s not the case, the world is not fair, has never been, and will never be. You either manage to deal with it or you die.”

You cannot expect the world to be nice to you, especially not the wasteland. Craft spoke her mind and has her good points, but although I wasn’t religious I felt she was way too harsh on religion. The world is a terrible place, that is the reason why ponies escape into religions, it is easier to pretend everything is okay than it is to actually facing the horror of the world. Wait... that also doesn’t sound like a good case for religion.

“You’re an intelligent mare, Aideen. I understand religion has a certain appeal but it just is not the right thing for everypony, and you're among those who are better off facing the world how it is. Do you want to know why I really don’t like virtues?”

Her asking me that question caught me somewhat off guard. “Ahh... well, yeah, sure.”

“One word to describe somepony? That’s bullshit. I know who I am, and I have never met anyone who can be summed up into one word, without being insulting to the rest of his personality. And another problem with your one true virtue is corruption. It’s like sticking with something and even though it turns bad you continue doing so. Why? Because if you abandon the virtue it would mean you admit on having made a mistake. Loyalty – if the ones you are loyal to turn out to be evil you stick with them. Honesty – Mom, your cookies taste awful! Courage – I dare you to jump in there. Don’t stay true to yourself! Go experiment, but be a better pony tomorrow.”

I didn’t get what I wanted, but I actually feel better now. I’m glad I asked Craft that question, it made me figure out her virtue. She has steadfast adherence of her own morals and ethnics, she figured out who she wants to be and became that person. And although she convinced me a virtue was not necessary, maybe even bad. I knew what virtue I would give her: Integrity.

I also figured out that I want to have that virtue. Integrity. I thought of Craft as a role model a few times before, but never knew why. Now I do. I want to have the same virtue. She can deny it, I wont.

“Did you hear that?” Craft whispered, then silently jumped up, and walked over to the door. I followed her, way slower, but as quiet. I’ve heard it too. Voices outside.

“I tell you, I saw someone going in here.”

“Yeah! We’re going to fuck them up.”

Raiders... very near to us.

In here there was nothing to use as cover other than the barrel we put inside three days ago, and to be honest that barrel wasn’t much in terms of cover. We were sitting ducks.

I saw Crafts mouth moving in a silent curse, then stared at me and cursed silently again. I have never been in an situation that would evolve into an exchange of bullets. She ignited her horn and floated a device out of her saddlebags on the floor. I recognized it as a StealthBuck, an invisibility add-on for the PipBuck. We had a chance.

Craft mouthed ‘One.’ to me. Oh... One won’t do us much good, then the other will be the target. She levitated the Memorhedron out from my PipBuck and pushed in the StealthBuck. I nodded. She was the one with fighting experience; it only made sense that she has the better chance.

I retreated into a corner and floated my gun to me. Craft waved her hoof to put it down. Yes, right they would see the glow. I’m so useless. She stepped right behind the door and lifted herself up to her hind legs. If the door were to swing open it would completely hide her behind it. How does she do that balancing-act and how does she even come up with it?

What was left to do was to wait. She was right at the door, and was able to hear them, I had no idea what was going on, until the door burst open. A dirty dark blue earth pony stallion walked inside first. “Theresh nopony here.” He managed to muffle through the handle of his shotgun. Another pony stuck in her head. A unicorn mare of dirty (they are raiders, do I really have to describe them with the word ‘dirty’?) orange color.

Craft smashed the door closed with the mare's head right in the door frame. Ouch. She used the momentum gained from gravity to strike the shotgun wielding earth pony and rip the shotgun out of his teeth with her magic. The door has sprung back from the mare's head, probably revealing a third pony to Craft outside the shack I couldn’t see as she fired the shotgun outside. The second blast of the shotgun went into the first raider's face. As both shots were fired already Craft used the Shotgun to bludgeon the mare.

Craft had quite some blood spattered on her, but the line running from her nose was her own. She had been hit when the door was opened. “He got my nose...” She sounded like she wanted to evoke my sympathy. Poor thing got a bloody nose from slaughtering three raiders in about five seconds. I could only stare at her. She couldn’t see me, but my silence was her cue. “What? They are just raiders.” Her tone was disgusted, by the pure thought of having to have dealt with raiders.

*** *** ***

The next day I didn’t recorded my Audiolog. I had nothing to report, and I can still do it in the evening when we reach the facility, at least then there was something I can talk about. How did I even fall into the routine of recording them in the morning? Oh yeah... when I was blacked out from falling of a cliff.... this cliff.

“That’s the spot where I found you.” It almost seemed as if Craft was wallowing in nostalgia.

Six days ago I have fallen off there... There is so much dried blood. Nopony could have survived that amount of blood loss without immediate care and a substantial amount of potions. Regens and Hematosis alone wouldn’t do the trick; Craft must have used Restos, maybe even Super-Restos or a Hydra.

“Why did you save me?”

Craft climbed onto the rocks and traced the lines where my blood flowed down. “It looks like a piece of art, doesn’t it? The laws of physics.” She looked up to the cliff. “The gravity working on the body of a young pretty mare, smashing her onto sharp, merciless rocks. It broke her bones, sliced her skin, ruptured muscles.” What is going on? Craft laid down into the dried puddle. “Her ribs punctured some of her organs, but she didn’t die.” She positioned herself on it, placing her limbs exactly where the blood indicated.

“I... uhmm... Craft?”

“An unimaginable pain; a normal pony would have just passed out, but not this one.” Craft slowly lifted her right hoof and reached out to me. “She stared at a random passerby, who is more in shock than her. The traveler was unable to move, or even look away; the stare was demanding. The moment this traveler moved up to her, she considers her staring-match won.” Craft deflated and let her hoof drop. “Finally she allowed herself to pass out. But you don’t remember any of this.”

“No... I... I don’t...” I felt suddenly dizzy. “don’t remember. ” This scene can’t have this effect on me. I didn’t feel emotional, about this. I was more weirded out of Craft reenacting it than anything else. Why do I... Come on, breathe, Aideen... What’s going on? I need to lie down.

There was a dart stuck in my shoulder. Wha-? I recognized the darts make as Crimson Company design, light blue rings symbolized it was refined nightstalker venom; It shuts down parts of the victims nervous system, making it pass out, but keeping it alive.

I managed to trace Crafts gaze up the cliff and could make out distinctive black and gold barding of a Crimson-Solider. The second group the Company has sent, had arrived before us. That’s bad, right? I noticed my... uhmm... mind-thingy is getting slower.

Craft faded away from my vision. Is that possible? Can ponies just... fade away? The rest of my vision is still there. The rocks and the blood. Was there something else? Like... other than stones? I don’t know. Maybe I figure it out if I sleep on it. Yes, that seems like a good idea... just... closing my eyes...




*** *** ***

Footnote: You have reached Level 6!

New Perk: Mighty Telekenesis (1): You triple the mass that you can levitate with your unicorn magic.

Skill note: Melee has reached 25.
Skill note: Sneak has reached 25.

new Quest: Avenge Quick Shot
[ ] Make a plan on how to get back at, or kill the Mayor of Hufstein, and get away it.

Quest: Memories of the Future
[ ] Find out why the Memorhedron has planted on you.
[ ] Optional: Watch all Memories in the Memorhedron. (3/X)

Quest: Gaia Prevails
[ ] Optional: Investigate every room of the facility
[ ] Report to the Crimson Company about the Gaia Prevails facility or keep them from getting it.

Quest failed: Freedom
[X] Find a virtue you want to pursue.

Author's Note:

With the chapter title "Return" you probably didn't expect Aideen to return right to the Company, did you? I'm not done bashing in on her.
We know she cannot keep doing what she had always done. She's also in a pretty (pun intended) bad decision of having had a beautifying makeover.

But hey, Craft got away (I didn't get her to stick with Aideen for a full chapter... again.)
The way she annihilated those poor Raiders, they had no chance against her.
Raiders are one thing, but could she stand against well-armed Soliders from the Crimson Company?

I also like to inform you I updated my foewiki page

aaand I'd like to celebrate my 100th story-view!
If you like my story so far go spam it around at your friends or whatever, if that's too hardcore for you just leave a comment, I'd love to hear more opinions
and my ego really needs praise, hehe... no, but the more people appreciate my work the better I feel about continuing.
Because, writing a chapter a week starts taking a toll on me.

See you in my blog this weekend or next Wednesday
JC signing out, and as always: Gaia Prevails!