Prologue

I like to think I’m a smart pony.

After all, would a stupid pony be able to give the precise specifications of the Chrysalis PD-225 Skybus? Would a stupid pony be able to disassemble, diagnose, and reassemble a Stable-tec Model 37 Spark Generator entirely in her mind?

The answer is no.

But there are times, rare though they are, that I seriously question my intelligence.

Times like now.

The cart rocks harshly as one of the wheels hops over some rock or something. Seriously, they need to hurry up and give this cart suspension. Because my legs, currently curled up under me, are telling me that it’s something extremely important.

“Hey Ace,” calls Longview from atop the covered portion of the cart. “You mind not trying to throw me off the wagon?”

“You wanna git down here and pull this thing!?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then stop tellin’ me how teh do mah job!”

“Both of you, focus. We’re in dangerous territory here, so stay! Sharp!”

The firm voice of Platinum Blade silences them both, though I could swear I hear a little grumbling from Ace’s general direction.

I go back to ignoring them both and nervously fiddling with my Battlesaddle. Firing the kick-lever of the Jambuster to make sure the pistons are well-oiled. Checking the Auto-loader. Detaching and reattaching the single-shot shotgun that’s attached to the left side. Checking the sewing job attaching my saddlebag to the right side. Extending and retracting the trigger-bit. Nosing into my saddlebag to check my inventory. My maintenance kit, some spare parts, duct tape and wonderglue, food, drink, canteen full of pure water, healing potion, bandages, and my lighter and cigarettes. All still there.

It doesn’t matter that I already went through this checklist a dozen times. What matters is that it once again distracts me from the gnawing terror in my gut.

“Nervous?” comes the ragged-yet-attractive voice next to me. A quick glance shows Manner giving me a gentle smile from her position of being curled up against Haywire.

“I…um…” instead of answering, I just turn my gaze back to the battlesaddle before me, re-checking the Jambuster. Still works fine.

She laughs. “It’s okay to be nervous, Silver. You’re allowed.”

“I know. I just…I mean…”

“You wanna act tough for the bucks, so they don’t think you’re a total wuss?”

I blush nervously, her accuracy momentarily distracting me from mentally disassembling my weapon. Then, quietly, I mutter, “Am I that obvious…?”

“Yeah, you are.”

When I don’t say anything, she heads off the anxiety growing in my gut by saying, “Hon, you’re a wimp. No, I’m not just saying that.” How does she know what I’m about to say like that…? “I have literally watched you go into a panic attack over the fact that you get panic attacks. You’re a total wimp, and the sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be.”

Forelegs wrap themselves around my barrel, and I’m about to bolt for my life until I realize it’s just Manner giving me a hug. “But just because you’re scared of everything doesn’t mean you aren’t useful. All the bucks and their big fancy guns? Who keeps those guns working? Straps on mods that make them so much better?” She gives me a little nuzzle. “Your cutie mark is gears for a reason, and that reason lets us all stay alive a little easier.”

I take a glance back toward my flanks, spying the image of a seven-gear array that adorns them. Yeah, it’s a cool cutie mark, and the special talent it represents has done me a world of good.

And yet, there’s no point to those gears. No purpose. Nothing to be driven. Nothing to drive them. Just gears that spin endlessly without rhyme or reason.

It’s a little more appropriate than I’d like to admit.

I turn away from it and offer her a fake little smile. I don’t know if she buys it or not, but she smiles back and returns to her husband’s side to curl up against him.

I go back to my battlesaddle, pulling a cigarette from the pack in my saddlebag. It takes a few tries to get it lit, but the tricky dance of coordination that is lighting a cigarette without magic has become almost second nature to me. And with one long pull, a couple seconds to let the smoke tingle in my lungs, and a long breath out, my nerves get a little less frayed. I’m not calm by any stretch of the imagination, but…less frantic.

Hang on…

Did I check the Auto-loader?

Oh, Goddesses strike me down if I left home without a working autoloader on my battlesaddle…

“I think that’s it, guys!”

“We here?”

“Yup. Close as we can get in this thing.”

“Alright. Everypony suit up and get ready!”

One quick check over the battlesaddle later, and I’m slipping into it and pulling the straps tight. A quick flip-out of the trigger-bit shows everything to be set up and ready to go. One last pull on the cigarette, for luck and all, before I spit it out, stomp it out, and leave the wagon.

The wasteland sky seems particularly bright here, with the occasional hole in the clouds suddenly a little more common. I turn my gaze downward onto the barren desert before I go into another panic attack, taking in the vast expanse of nothingness giving way to steep brown mountains next to us. There’s no plants. No animals. Even the sky seems to reflect the monotony of this corner of the world.

So much brown…

The other ponies are grouping up near a small cave set into the nearest mountain, so I hurry up and run to follow.

“So this is really it?” Haywire asks, his baritone voice at odds with his lanky gunmetal-grey body.

“In that cave there, if this map is right,” affirms the tan buck that it takes me a few seconds to remember is Longview. He’s nosing at his Pip-Buck, playing with the map function to try and see if he’s right.

Ohhh, that Pip-Buck. I would kill a pony to get my hooves on that thing, but it’s unfortunately fused to his leg. And he’s not willing to give me his leg.

“Well, keep your eyes peeled, everypony. This may be the edges of Splendid Valley, but it’s still hellhound territory.” His voice alone is imposing, but Blade himself looks even more so now that I see him. Most ponies are taller than me, but he in particular towers over everypony. Bright silver coat like my own, with a baby-blue-and-white mane and tail…he really does look like a wall of steel. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing thick metal armor fashioned from chunks of a chariot. And the way that armor looks on him...revealing the bulges of his muscles while accentuating his curves...

Goddesses damn it, Rivet. Focus on his words, not his flank.

“Rivet?” I perk up at the mention of my name, turning my attention back to Blade’s face. “You go handle the Stable door. Ace’ll cover you.”

Aaaaaaand there goes any good mood I may’ve had.

I nervously glance over to the red-on-orange stallion wearing thick leather armor and donning brass hoofshoes. He shoots me a quick little wink, and almost immediately, my skin starts to crawl.

“Alright everypony, let’s make this quick. I wanna be safe in the Stable before the hellhounds know we’re here.” They move to start covering the mouth of the cave, and with a little sigh, I walk into the cave after them.

“Where are the hellhounds, anyways? I would think we’d’ve seen one by now.”

“Be happy we haven’t.”

“According to PON-3, Maripony got hit with a balefire bomb a few days ago. Maybe they all died?”

“We’re talking about hellhounds here. The critters notorious for being harder to kill than radroaches. There’s no chance they just—“ After a while, I’m deep enough in the cave that I can’t hear them anymore. At least, not unless they start shouting.

I keep my head down and keep walking, running my tail along the cave wall to let myself know about any corners. Only to get horribly distracted when Ace slides up alongside me.

“So…” he says, in that smooth voice that, while having nothing necessarily wrong with it, still makes me shiver. “…been a while, eh Rivets?”

I don’t say anything. I just keep walking.

“Oh, now you’re givin’ me teh silent treatment?”

Still not saying anything.

“Tch. Fine. Ah see how it is.”

My tail stops feeling wall, and I immediately stop.

Beep. “Well, if yeh need some help—” Beep. “—blowin’ off steam, don’t hesitate teh—“ Clunk. “AGH! Fuck!”

The lights gradually fade from pitch darkness to almost daytime levels, as the lights set into the well-maintained cubic room slowly turn on. With more than a little bit of a smug grin, I notice that in the pitch darkness, Ace walked headfirst into the imposing Stable door before us.

He looks back and sees me chuckling slightly. “Ah, shut yer yap,” he finally sulks.

I take in the room around us. It’s still stone on every surface except the far wall, but hewn and weathered in such a way that it was clearly, at one point, perfectly smooth. Wide drains lie in the sides of the room, presumably to keep the place from flooding, and four lights lie nearly-hidden in each upper corner. The entire far wall is taken up by the giant steel door of the Stable, gear-shaped in design and flush with the surface of the wall. Inlaid into its very center, right where the shaft would go if it were a real gear, is a yellow number 16.

And next to it, cleverly camouflaged with the wall, is a fold-out terminal.

“Ah’ll tell the oth’rs we found it,” Ace says, trotting back the way we came and rubbing his nose slightly. The minute he leaves, I let out a long sigh of relief. With him gone, I’ll be able to focus instead of keeping an eye on him.

Now, to business.

I trot over to the little square of ridges that marks out the terminal’s location, tapping it to make the keyboard fold down. As it boots up, I glance back around the room. It’s weird, really. The lights clearly detected our presence and lit up in response. That’s pretty easy to do. But I don’t see any sign of cameras, motion sensors…nothing that would actually detect our presence.

The beep of the terminal pulls me out of my reverie, as it’s now sitting there and asking for a password. A few button presses, and I’ve put it into debug mode. A few more and…whoa. That’s one helluva firewall. Waaay beyond my technical expertise. Ugh…I can’t believe we came all this way for...

…hang on…

…it looks like somepony’s hacked into this terminal before.

Whoever it was, they did a terrible job of covering their tracks. The first glance of a trained eye reveals clear signs of a forced entry. Whoever did it had to have been a professional to get through firewalls like this one, but a professional just throwing caution to the wind like this? What happened to that pony?

Curiosities aside, though. I have work to do.

Following the digital hoofprints, I punch through the firewall in seconds and start inputting passwords. Okay, that didn’t work. That one didn’t work. Oh, so close.

There! I press enter, and the password slots fill with the word ‘entry’.

Wow. Original.

The terminal finishes booting up just as the others come trotting into the entry room.

“You got it?” Blade asks, making me jump slightly at the sound of his voice.

“Mmhm. Opening now.” One tap of the enter key, and the terminal folds back into the wall.

“Ready, bucks!” Every stallion in the room gets into a battle stance, weapons aimed and primed at the Stable door. Ace is bouncing slightly on his hooftips, the childlike action at odds with the face of sheer determination. Longview has his assault-rifle-and-grenade-launcher battlesaddle (partially covered by his winter-cloak) aimed carefully, with the trigger-bit firmly in his mouth. Blade has his sniper rifle and Haywire has his ME-Pistol (Focus Optics and Recharger installed by yours truly) in their mouths and ready to go. Manner’s behind all of them, horn lit and revolver floating beside her in that half-ready stance that shows she's really prepping for a healing spell.

Me? I’m moving to go hide behind all of them. Because, shotgun or no shotgun, I’d rather let them can handle whatever’s behind that door.

The massive THUNK of nine hoof-wide steel bolts retracting sends me diving behind Manner for cover.

The Hisssss of the airtight seal breaking is enough to cover her little chuckle at my expense.

With the loudest whine of metal grinding against metal I’ve ever heard, the door pulls backward into the stable itself, until we can see a thin outline of light around the edges.

Then, with the various clanks, chugs, and groans of old machines running for the first time in decades, the giant gear shaped door rolls to the side, granting us access into Stable 16.

Footnote:
Silver Rivet

Strength: 3
Perception: 7
Endurance: 4
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 10
Agility: 6
Luck: 6

Chapter 1: Grand Entrance

View Online

Chapter 1: Grand Entrance
“This oughta be quick. I’ll be at the library in no time. Beautiful, indeed.”

Blessedly, the room behind the giant door is empty.

Instantly, everypony relaxes without lowering their weapons. Ace trots almost casually into the next room, Haywire not far behind him despite being extremely on-guard.

“It’s clear,” calls back Ace.

With those words, the rest of us immediately relax. Trigger bits come out of mouths, revolvers float back to their holsters, and rifles are slung onto backs.

I, on the other hand, keep my trigger-bit out and in my mouth. Just in case there’s any invisible critters.

The four of us who didn’t enter at first trot in. The room behind the door looks like some kind of operating room solely for the door, with absurd amounts of tech coating the ceiling. The ramp we’re entering by runs along one side, with consoles and terminals next to it. And along either side wall is a series of lockers that Haywire’s already picking his way into. Lying on its side next to the terminal is a dead body that is literally just bones and some other bits, and the far wall has a hallway inset into it. I can’t see it from here just yet, but if the way Ace is quickly disappearing into it is any clue, it’s a staircase leading down.

Hey, wait a minute. Dead body in a Stable?

Pip-Buck-ertunity!

Then the grinding starts up suddenly, making me jump and spin around. But it’s just the door, sliding sideways to close.

“Hey, what the hell!?”

“Don’t worry,” I head him off before he can get upset, “some Stables are programmed to have the door shut automatically, once everypony it detects is through.”

Blade scoffs slightly as a giant cylinder-thing swings down from the ceiling to latch itself into the gear-door. “Why would it do that?”

“These places were designed to be as isolated as possible,” Haywire explains for me, since I’m busy glancing over the room and checking for invisible monsters. “So it makes sense that they’d wanna keep the door closed as much as possible. Right, Rivet?”

I nod, finishing off my own inspection. Satisfied, I turn back to them and retract the mouthpiece for my battlesaddle.

Blade just watches as the door slides into place, the hiss of the airtight seal engaging being drowned out by the THUNK of powerful steel bolts locking it there. Finally, he says, “Then why don’t they all do that?”

I trot back to the group. “It’d require an entry room like the one we just came from, and most don’t have room for that.” Of course, there’s the fact that I didn’t see any sensors of any kind, but…they didn’t need to know that.

They seem to accept that response, while I use the lull in conversation to make a beeline for the dead body clad in utterly-shredded stable barding.

I don’t even try to cover up the little, “Yes!” when I spot the sleek black device clamped around the sleketon’s fetlock. It normally wouldn’t fit over the hoof for me to slip it off, but that’s why I can just pull the hoof off. Aaaaaand…success! A delicious little masterwork of science and engineering to call my very own! I can’t wait to pull it apart and study its innards! Eeeeeee Yesyesyesyesyes—

In the midst of my little victory dance, I catch sight of Longview giving me the strangest look he can possibly muster. Within seconds, I’ve stopped, staring at him and blushing like my face has caught fire. Part of my brain wonders how well it shows through, between my silver coat and black mane. I quickly make that part of my brain shut up.

We stare at each other for a few seconds, in which time, I also notice Manner stifling a giggle off to one side.

“I…um…I like Pip-Bucks,” I finally mutter.

“I noticed,” comes the flat reply.

There’s a few more seconds of just us staring at each other, before he finally just shakes his tan head in disbelief (short brown mane flopping in a very distracting way as he does) and turns back to nose through his cutie-mark-covering saddlebags.

I take another glance over at Manner, but she’s turned away to chat with her husband about something undoubtedly unimportant. Now devoid of attention, I turn my gaze back to my new Pip-Buck (my Pip-Buck. That certainly has a nice ring to it). Turning it over in my hooves, I take stock of all the parts I can see. Key-slot. Volume slider. Screen and screen cover. Three buttons, two dials. Geiger counter. Peri—

Hang on…

This is clearly a Pip-Buck 3000 Model Mk. II, as the casing quite obviously proves. But where’s the peripheral slot? They’re standard on Pip-Bucks, since it’s impossible to have it deliver a Code-breaker without an Arcanotech port. But where it should be on this model, it just…isn’t there. Maybe it’s a specially-customized version? But…what pony would customize out certain features on something as famously versatile as a Pip-Buck?

Observe and move on, Silver. That’s the rule.

So, curiosity aside, I work with the parts I can see to start figuring out the ones I can’t. Illusion Talisman dead center of the screen. Detect Magic Talisman underneath the Geiger Counter, closest to the leg. Dedicated processor next to it, on all three internal layers, to handle EFS Hostility Detection. Sensory Registers under the buttons and dials, all hooked into the main processor which sits in the middle layer across as much as possible. Hard Memory Disc near what's the bottom when worn. Low-level Telekinesis Talisman directly adjacent to the Organization processor. Radio receiver near the top, next to the dials. Wearer-seeking Talisman directly against where the hoof goes, and the Targeting Talisman for SATS right next to that. Spark Reactor…here, with the battery there. And up there, map receiver and specialized processor, along with a Locator Talisman to handle the tag-finding function. Dedicated Medical Processor goes over here. And last but not least, the Illumination Talisman over here.

By the end of the half-minute I spend staring at it, I’ve constructed a fully-functional blueprint in my head, all of it as accurate as I can get it. I’ve learned to trust myself that I’m right about this kind of thing, so I’m just going to assume that I’m right and all the components are there and working properly. And now that I’ve got that blueprint settled, I can finally be confused about the giant (relatively) patch of empty space left by the lack of an Arcanotech Port. And for that matter…what’s…

OH! So it does have a port, but it’s dedicated to terminal-connection only and needs a special cable. Since I have my doubts a regular connection cable would fit in that dinky little square slot on its bottom-when-worn.

Maybe the cable’s in the dead owner’s saddlebags?

Holding my (EEEEE) new Pip-Buck in my mouth so my hooves can do their work, I glance around for the saddlebags this dead pony left behind. And there they are, underneath the terminal. A quick walk over, some fancy hoofwork, and…

YES! Ohhh, how lucky can I possibly get!? A full freaking set of Pip-Buck Maintenance tools? YesyesyesyesyesYES!

“Some—“

I interrupt whoever it is by squeaking loudly and practically leaping onto the ceiling. If I found my skin lying on the ground where I was, I wouldn’t be surprised.

From my new position atop the desk, next to the door-control terminal, I finally see that the source of the just-surprising-and-nothing-else voice is just Manner. She still even has her hoof up, like she was about to put it over my shoulders, stunned look painted all over her face.

I collect myself enough to mutter, “D-Don’t sneak up on m-me like that…”

She drops her hoof and smiles, shaking her head slightly. “Sorry, hon. But the way you’ve been acting lately, sometimes I forget you’re not a fearless warrior.”

I just stick my tongue out at her, which does nothing more than make her laugh. I chuckle too. I have to admit, that was kinda funny…

“Anyway, I was just about to say that you seemed pretty happy.”

“I am. I just found a Pip-Buck to call my very own, and a full set of maintenance tools.” I hop back off the desk to retrieve them from where I may or may not have tossed them in panic.

“Wow! Happy Hearths Warming then, I guess.”

“Heh. Thanks.” I use the little silence we’re in to find the keys for the lock, pop open the hinge, relocate some of my foreleg armor, and lock it around my left foreleg. A few seconds of adjusting and I finally get it to where it’s supposed to sit, and then the auto-straps kick in and lock it firmly into place. I move my foreleg around, spinning my hoof in circles and going through walking motions to get a feel for it. It’s surprisingly heavy…heavier than I thought. Might take some getting used to. Finally, I offer a little pose to Manner. “How do I look?”

“Really stylish, hon.”

I chuckle, blushing only slightly. Then I notice something else weird about this Pip-Buck. “Hang on, shouldn’t the EFS have—“

“Door at teh other end’s shut tight,” calls out Ace from where he’s coming up the stairwell, interrupting me in a way that makes me not want to start talking ever again.

“I’ll head down and start—“

“No lock to pick, Haywire. I think this is a job for Little Rivets over there.” He gestures to me, and I immediately cringe as I feel everypony turn their gaze to look at me.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. Haywire, how many entrances does this room have?”

“Two. The door down there, and there’s a vent over here that’s busted open. Dunno if anypony could crawl through, but something could crawl in.” He flicks his forest green mess of a mane out of his face. “Nothing lethal, though.”

“Alright, I want you and Longview to set up some kind of barrier on that vent. Ace, Manner,” for a second, I think he’s nodding to me on that second name, until I realize he’s referring to the pink,-red,-and-white unicorn I may or may not be hiding behind, “you guys set up our stuff. This is our base camp until we find a better one. Rivet? You and me check out that door.”

I nod, slipping out from behind Manner and following the absolutely enormous stallion that is Platinum Blade. I carefully swerve around Longview on my way there, and before long, I’m standing at the top of the staircase down into the rest of the Stable.

……that’s a lot darker than I thought it’d be.

Following after Blade, feeling the darkness enveloping us…Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m terrified. Completely and utterly. I never liked being in dark places, and this is just…

The weight of the Pip-Buck on my leg reminds me of its existence. And the Illumination Talisman in its inner workings.

Duh…

Stopping for a second, I raise my hoof, focus on a mental image of daylight, and stomp it back down. The thunk of hoof-on-metal surprises Blade enough for him to act a bit like me. But the sudden bright light lets him know wordlessly what I was doing.

I can’t keep the smile off my face.

“I love Pip-Bucks,” I mutter to myself.

“Where’d you even get that?” he asks.

I squeak and blush furiously, only now realizing that I actually did say that out-loud. Staring at him, he silently gestures for me to go ahead of him.

Squirming by, and trying my hardest not to brush up against him in the tight space, I answer with, “I…um…just some…ah…dead body out there.”

“Wait...so you’re scared of everything except dead bodies?”

“N-Not everything!” I complain, flipping out my trigger-bit once I’m past him. I have to admit, the light from my Pip-Buck helps a lot, though it’s only now that I notice its operating color is a bright yellow.

That won’t get annoying at all.

“Oh? Then name something else you’re not scared of,” he chuckles as we resume our descent.

It’s a few long seconds before I reply, “Machinery…”

“Of course. Really, I should’ve known.”

We continue the walk in silence (which is fine by me), though it’s not a long one. And at the end of it all, we’re at a little flat section, facing a thick steel door on a piston-extended track designed to let it pull back, then slide sideways. And just ahead of it, right about where I’m standing, is another one of those tiny, square Arcanotech ports that seem unique to this Stable.

Wire goes…here, then there, and…two seconds later, my Pip-Buck’s showing a little dialog.

[OPEN ‘Stable 16 Entry Door’?
Y N]

“Can you open it?” asks Blade, his sudden voice making me nearly jump out of my skin again.

“Y-Yeah. It doesn’t even ask for a password. It just says, ‘Open door, yes or no’.”

The minute I start saying yes, the dialog changes to [OPENING…], followed immediately by [CANCELED] when I start saying no. The little exchange of words is enough to get me really confused, as the text blinks back to the first dialog it gave me.

“Alright. Don’t open it just yet. I wanna make sure our base camp is ready first.”

I nod, trying to figure out how this thing works. Seriously, I don’t have a keyboard anywhere on my Pip-Buck, so now am I supposed to type ‘n’!?

[CONFIRMED. EJECTING…]

With only a little quiver for warning, the plug is firmly punted out of the wall port.

Oh, cool! So the Pip-Buck not only takes thought-commands for the advanced features, but also as a mental keyboard? Talk about nifty! This way I can just memorize firewall-cracking codes and just think them into the terminals. So much easier!

I’m still lost in thinking about how that would work when we make it back up the stairs. Haywire, Manner, and Ace have all shucked their saddlebags, which are lying in the middle of the room (Longview, for unexplainable reasons, has left his on). Manner’s already got her bedroll set up, and she and Haywire are curled up on it cataloguing medical supplies. Longview has his Hot Plate set up, and he’s cooking some of our food while Ace “taste-tests” it.

“Ah’m tellin’ yeh, ‘s still too salty.”

“I didn’t put any salt in it.”

Manner glances up to me once she sees I’ve returned. “Can you get the door?”

I trot over nearby, settling onto the composite floor next to their bedroll. “Easy. Just plug in and think yes.”

“I’m glad.” After a brief smile shot my way, she returns to her work and I start fiddling with my Pip-Buck.

It’s Pretty much the same as I’ve heard and read from various technical manuals. Three general menus, with five sub-menus each. Items…yup, my entire inventory listed out for me to sort through. Data…Local map is certainly useful down here, with the World map a little less so. Aww, no radio stations down here. Quests? Supposedly, I’ve completed a dozen or so already, until I realize that’s the previous owner’s record. Huh…most of these are almost menial. A Birthday Bash…Power to the Ponies…Bowels of the Mountain…Find a Pe—wait…

Bowels of the Mountain?

Scrolling down to it, I also notice that it’s the only active quest.

[Bowels of the Mountain (active)
Objectives:
x- Collect survival supplies.

x- Food (10/10)

x- Water (10/10)

x- Weapon

x- Ammo (50/50)

x- Healing potion (3/3)
x- Reach the Stable Door.
o- Find a way to open the Stable Door.
]

Huh. Click.

[Power to the Ponies
Objectives:
x- Speak to Voyageur.
x- Collect:

x- Weapons (10/10)

x- Ammo (60/60)

x- Healing Potions (BONUS) (7/10)
o- Reach the Laboratory Level
]

…just what the hell was this pony doing? Why would you need guns to go to a lab? Why the hell were they going there in the first place? Should I be scared for my life right now? Oh, wait. I already am. Naturally. Dammit.

Question I can answer now, though…who the hell was this pony?

Switching over to the Stats menu, I’m immediately confronted by a cartoonish outline of a pony in some sprightly little posture. Perfectly healthy. And…

[Name: SUNNY CHARM
Sex: MARE
Type: UNICORN
Age: 14]

FOURTEEN YEARS OLD!?!?!

Wha…but…HOW!? According to her questlog, she’s…she’s done so much! Okay, some of that stuff was pretty menial, but some was pretty intense! And she did all that while being six years younger than me!?

“Something wrong, hon?” You know something’s wrong when the sudden appearance of Manner’s voice does nothing more than make me jump a bit.

I shake my head, then gesture toward Sunny Charm’s skeleton. “No, just…that pony over there…according to this, she was fourteen.”

Both Manner and Haywire go really quiet all of a sudden, turning to look at the skeleton nopony besides me has really touched yet. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Longview go kinda still, too.

I ignore them, tabbing over to the ‘General’ submenu, which is completely out of place. Then I realize they took the ‘General’ tab, merged it into the ‘S.P.E.C.I.A.L.’ tab, and renamed the whole thing to General. To make room for something called ‘Templates’. My brain also notices that the general stats haven’t changed, either. Unless I’ve managed to take a dozen chems, and considering the fact that cigarettes apparently don’t count, I know that’s not true.

I wonder…

[Strength: 4
Perception: 5
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 7
Intelligence: 8
Agility: 6
Luck: 5]

How do these things measure a pony’s luck, anyways?

I steal a glance over to the skeleton, taking in the bones of a pony named Sunny Charm, who was apparently particularly smart, savvy, and nimble, on top of being stupidly, ridiculously young.

“What was her name?”

“Huh?”

Haywire repeats his question. “That mare. Her name. What was it?”

“Uhh…Sunny Charm.”

“Any audio recordings?” Manner asks, interrupting Haywire who was trying to ask the same question.

“I…think so…” Click. Cli-cli-cli-click. “Yeah, a few.”

“Mind playing one?”

“I…guess not.” With a couple motions of the wheel, I navigate to the first recording and mentally press play (and isn’t that a weird thing to say…?).

There’s a loud click, followed by a pony singing some kind of theme song.

“Da-da-daa-da-daaaaa! Welcome, future pony, to the Adventures of a Pip-Buck Repair Filly!”

Pip-Buck Repair Filly, huh? Well, that’d explain the tools. The voice is so young, though…she doesn’t sound more than eight. Ten at the most.

“That’s right! Today was my first official day of work! But there was nuthin’ official to do, so I decided to go exploring, instead! After all, now that I’ve got the map function, I noticed all kindsa places I’ve never been before!

“So I went to check out this one little place near the generator, only to find that it was already taken! These two grown-up-ponies were down there already, wrestlin’ and playin’ and havin’ lotsa fun. I don’t think they noticed me, and I didn’t bother ‘em. I figured I’d just find a different spot.”

There’s a brief pause in the audio, during which I take immediate and unfortunate note of Blazing Ace howling with laughter. He apparently doesn’t notice the glares of four other ponies asking that he have some respect for the dead.

“And I found one, too! ‘S where I am now. Up at the top, next to the Overmare’s office, there’s this little hidden door with a covered-up port next to it. But now that I know where it is, all I gotta do is plug in, think yes, and it opens right up!

“And you should see the room behind it! It’s incredible! There’s this big giant gear thing, a buncha tech stuff, and some really neat lockers full ah knick-knacks. Think I might take some of these things down to the market and sell ‘em. Make some good money!”

A glance up at Haywire shows him looking at the lockers, in a way that makes me realize that she took everything and sold it.

“Anyways, be sure to tune in next week for, da-da-daa-da-daaaaah! Adventures of a Pip-Buck Repair Filly!” Then she starts giggling, before finally the click of her signing off silences her.

The room is silent for a few minutes, and I can practically feel their gazes moving from me to the skeleton in one corner. Sunny Charm’s skeleton.

“Well, that was…informative…” mutters Longview.

“No kidding,” comes Blade’s affirmation.

“Hoo dang…’wrestlin’’,” Ace devolves into another bout of chuckles.

“We should bury her.”

“Manner…sweetie…we can’t. The floor’s not exactly malleable.” Haywire turns back to the skeleton. “As much as I want to…”

I ignore them as they start to discuss what they just heard, slipping off into a nearby corner to fiddle with my…Sunny Charm’s…Pip-Buck. Flipping back to the Stats Menu, I tab over to this thing called ‘Templates’.

[Current Template: ------
Preset Templates:

Inspiration

Party Time

Power Nap

Vacation

Workaholic
Custom Templates:

VRXIFA
]

What.

The actual.

Fuck?

Are these menu-style options for the Pip-Buck? Some kind of voice control? Does it have something to do with the lack of a peripheral slot? And what was with that last one? Some kind of acronym? Hidden message? Secret code?

I’m scrolling down to the last option when the screen disappears. It’s replaced with a simple dialog.

[Discrepancies confirmed. Are you SUNNY CHARM?
Y N]

My immediate mental answer is no.

[You have answered: NO
Please confirm your answer.]

I said no. Was that not clear or something?

[Answer confirmed. Welcome, New User!
Please type your name in the space provided.]

Below that is a little blinking cursor.

Okay, why not? I focus on each letter in my mind, watching it appear on the screen.

[Answer confirmed. Welcome, New User!
Please type your name in the space provided.
SILVER RIVET]

Because I was silver and had a big head atop a skinny little body when I was born. Made me look kinda like a rivet. Yeah...not the best of names.

Spelled about right, though.

[Welcome to the Pip-Buck 3000 Mk. II, SILVER RIVET!
Have you used a Pip-Buck before?
Y N]

Uhhh...I read the operating manual. Several dozen times.

Nothing happens.

Huh. Guess this thing’s not a conversationalist. Let’s just go with yes.

[Confirmed. Skipping Tutorial.
Running Diagnostic…]

That text appears for about a second, before blinking out and replaced with tiny, fast-scrolling text.

[Spark Reactor: Operational. 7% consumed. Days until fully consumed: 99999994861
Spark Battery: Operational.
General Processor: Operational.
Damage Identification Processor: Operational.
Pony-processor Interface: Operational.
Stable-tec Arcane Targeting System Processor: Operational.
Magic Detection Talisman: Operational
Eyes-Forward Sparkle Processor: CRITICAL ERROR
Eyes-Forward Sparkle Hostility Detection Processor: CRITICAL ERROR
Inventory Tracking and Sorting Talisman: Operational.
Injury Identification and Medical Aid Processor: Operational.
Map Readout and Tag Finder Talisman: Operational.
Illumination Talisman: Operational.
Radio Receiver: Operational.
Arcanotech Port: Operational.
Peripheral Connection Port: CRITICAL ERROR
Task Identification and Recording Processor: Operational.
Display Illusion Talisman: Operational.
User Interface: Operational.
Loading hard drive……loaded.
Analyzing current wearer…...analysis complete.
Activating E.F.S. display……CRITICAL ERROR
Diagnostic complete. Restarting…….]

And just like that, all the crazy text is gone. Replaced by the main Status screen.

Which, as it takes me a few seconds to notice, now has my information on it.

[Name: SILVER RIVET
Sex: MARE
Type: EARTH PONY
Age: 20]

I sit there, staring at those words for a little while, running them over and over in my head and trying to process how I should feel about them. Then I click over to the General tab.

All those little achievements it tracks for some reason? The ones that used to belong to Sunny Charm?

They’re all blank.

“Silver?”

I don’t jump. Don’t panic. Just look up to see the pink-coated and candy-cane-maned unicorn standing in front of me.

“You okay, hon?” she asks.

I click back to the Status tab and hold the Pip-Buck out for her to see. “I feel like I just killed a pony…” I whisper.

She reads over it for a second, confused. Then it clicks in her head.

She looks at me with a look on her face I can’t even hope to decipher.

“The audio recordings are still there, right?”

I pull back my leg. Click. Cli-cli-cli-click. “Yeah.”

Manner smiles down at me and ruffles my mane, prompting a little squeak and blush from me. “Then she’s not really gone, is she?”

“Guess not…”

She nuzzles my cheek, which elicits a tiny sigh of happiness to slip through my lips. Then she stands back up. “Now come on. We’re gonna start our first foray into the Stable. And that means—“

“That you need me to open the door,” I finish quietly, already standing up. Shifting slightly in my battlesaddle/bag combo, I smile at her slightly. “What were you all doing in the meantime?”

“Getting some food. Only a few of us were actually hungry. Ace, Blade, and Haywire.”

“Haywire? But he didn’t pull the cart…”

“No, but you know him. If he’s not working, he’s eating.”

“……then how is he still so skinny?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” As the darkness gets thick enough to block our vision, I once again think about daylight and tap my hoof on the ground, the combination activating the Illumination Talisman. “I could do to learn that secret myself, to be honest.”

“And I could learn the inverse of it.”

She laughs, ruffling my mane again. “You’ll bulk up sooner or later, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, there you two are! I thought you were eaten by radroaches.” Blade’s voice, from basically right ahead of me, is more than enough to make me jump and squeak in terror.

“The rate they were going, they might as well have been,” mutters Longview, just within audible levels.

“Sorry, we just got distracted. She found something particularly unpleasant on that Pip-Buck and needed a pep talk.”

“Well, pep talk’s over! It’s cramped up here!” Ace’s voice, from the very front. Oh Goddesses, I’ll have to stand right up against—

“Go on and do your thing, Rivet. We’re right behind you.”

Thanks, Platinum Blade, for all the love and support. Now if you could just get Ace to move behind you…no? Oh, that’s fine then.

Pulling myself together enough to squirm between Blade and Longview, past Haywire, and (shudder) right up against Ace, I try my hardest to focus on attaching the wires.

Oh come on! He’s leaning on me on purpose!

Disguising the motion in the plugging of my wire into the wall-port, I shove him back away from me.

[OPEN ‘Stable 16 Entry Door’?
Y N]

I flip out my trigger-bit, bite down on it in preparation, and mentally hit ‘y’.

[OPENING……]

With a hiss that’s not nearly as loud as the one from the Stable door, the door slides back a few inches. Then, slowly, it slips sideways, to reveal…

An empty hallway.

Oh, thank the Goddesses for that one. I was worried for a second there I’d have to—

“EEEEEK!” Kra-POW!

“Dammit, who fired!?”

“Rivet did!”

Ace walks out into the hallway, eyes looking from me to the patch of ground where my buckshot left little smoking indents. “Really, Rivets? If you’re that scared of your own shadow—“

“I saw a radroach, okay! It was starting to turn and run when I shot at it and I must’ve missed and—“ I’m interrupted my Haywire’s hoof on my shoulder, which is damn near enough to get me to shoot again.

I don’t, though. Thank the Goddesses.

He just gently gestures for me to move out, and I begrudgingly step out of the hallway and into the next one. This one’s particularly dimly lit, but with the help of my Pip-Buck light, I manage to spot the corner where the radroach ran to.

Nothing. Just a vent.

I can hear Blade’s voice behind me, enough to make me jump.

“Just…hang near the back, okay? We’ve got it from here.”

They move on down the part of the hallway that’s not a dead end, while I shift my gaze back and forth between them and where I saw the radroach go. And I did see it. I know I did!

…didn’t I?

Manner stops next to me, and I just stare at her pleadingly.

“I know I saw it.”

She doesn’t answer. She simply gestures the way the others are going and says, “Come on, Silver. I don’t want you to get left behind.”

After a few seconds, I realize she doesn’t believe me either. Which for some reason hurts a lot more than I thought it would.

Sullenly plodding after her, I take in the hallway around us. Only a couple of the lights are working, with the rest either dead or dying. We pass a room on my left with a nametag that’s scratched into unreadability, followed by one on my right with a nametag that I have to spend a couple seconds reading to make it out in the low light.

{Fog Bank
VIP}

Stables having VIPs? Is that a thing?

Guess so.

Satisfied, I trot slightly to catch up to the others, who are now standing at the end of the hallway. There’s two doors, one on the left with an unreadable label, and one straight ahead with no label at all. Haywire’s busy picking the lock of the left door, and his bobby pin snaps just as I walk up.

“Dammit!”

“Jus’ try it again.”

“Yeah. Haywire, take Rivet and Longview to check out this office once you get the lock. Ace? Manner? Let’s look over the Atrium, see if we can’t find the Medical Station.”

Everypony affirms their agreement with the plan, either with a “Got it,” or just a nod. Blade presses something next to the door to the Atrium, and it slides open sideways with the swish of an electrically-driven pulley system. I can hear it knocking on its rails here and there, but I think I’m the only one.

Ace goes through first, taking a sharp left, while Blade steps through behind him to set up a sniper post on what must be some kind of landing. Manner starts after them, but turns back to me and asks, “You gonna be okay, hon?”

I nod, not needing to answer verbally.

Satisfied, she nods back, gives Haywire a quick peck on the cheek (surprisingly, it doesn’t make him break his bobby pin), and trots out after Ace.

Turning the bobby pin gently around the lock with his teeth and holding the screwdriver between his hooves, he manages to slowly turn the lock farther…farther…

Click! “Aha! Goff ish!” He puts away his tools and, with a gentle swish, opens the door to stand bowing next to it. “Filles and gentlecolts, may I present to you…the office of Stable 16’s overmare!”

OH! So that’s what that says. It’s so scratched out I can barely read it, but now that I know what it’s supposed to say, I can pick out the O, the M, maybe even the last E. From there, it’s easy to extrapolate based on the space letters take up versus how much space there—

“Hey Rivet! Got a terminal here with your name on it!”

Nameplate forgotten, I trot into the room after the two of them. The walls of the room look like hardwood paneling at first glance, but the chipped spots reveal it to just be paint. I spot the terminal immediately (Oooh, a Stable-tec Model 297 with the Expanded Hard Drive option! Fancy), sitting on a desktop across the room from me. To the left of the desk sits a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf being browsed by Haywire, easily reachable from the chair behind the desk. To my left is a door that leads to what looks like a separate bedroom (one that Longview is exploring), while the wall to my right sports a window with a magnificent view into the Atrium.

I’ve seen bigger rooms, sure. This one’s barely two stories tall and fifty feet in diameter at the most. There’s a catwalk-thing circling around the top floor, leading to five wide walkways shooting off of the Atrium. The floor below us is solid, save for the stairwell cut into it leading further down still. All of that was easy to tell, even in the dim, flickering light. But the reason it seems so impressive to me is that this is underground, with millions upon millions of tons of rock above us. With that in mind, this otherwise unimpressive room becomes something of a marvel of engineering.

Of course, then there’s the giant gear painted on the ceiling to look like an upward-facing Stable door. A mighty yellow 16 sits in the center, as if reminding everypony here just where we are. Like that’s something that can be forgotten…

Satisfied, I turn and trot over to the terminal. Finally! I can try out using my Pip-Buck to hack something! Just plug, point, and think! This should be…

…um…

Staring at the debug screen of the terminal, it becomes immediately apparent that I have no idea how to beat this one. It’s so far beyond my skills that I can’t even tell how far beyond my skills it is! Fundementally, it’s similar to the Neighton Antivirus standard, but…just…

“You okay?” I jump so hard I’m nearly launched out of the seat, spinning to see…

…Haywire. Immediately, I settle back down. Then I gesture to the terminal and say, “Can’t get it. Don’t know how. Sorry…”

“You tried. That’s what counts. If you can’t get it, move on.”

I spend a couple seconds absorbing the Haywire-ism before Longview trots back into the room, looking happier than I’ve ever seen him. Hanging from his grinning mouth (why, Longview, don’t you use Telekinesis? You’re a unicorn!) is one of the prettiest guns I’ve seen in a long, long time.

He spits it onto the desk, and I almost immediately snatch it up to look it over.

He grins at us. “Found it in her sock drawer.”

“Pretty,” Haywire mutters absently.

“Yeah? Well, you can say you found it then. Make a good present for Manner, you know...”

I tune them out, focusing on the magnificently-designed mechanisms. The frame’s been custom-finished to be varying shades of lavender with gentle swirls and curves to give it an almost elegant look. The front of the trigger bit’s adorned with three diamonds etched in underneath the finish. Spinning the chambers provides next-to-zero resistance or friction. Everything in it operates with smooth, almost jewel-like motions. Tied to the bottom is a note.

{Dinky,
It helped me not be scared. I hope it can help you too.

~A.S.}

I set it back onto the table and report back my findings. “Standard military issue Ironshod Firearms CR-557 .44-caliber revolver, customized with a Heavy Frame mod and an Ironshod Model 103 Revolver-based Speed-loader. Features high-quality, jewel-encrusted joints designed for speed and durability rather than overall strength or power. Custom-finished frame designed in the motif of somepony with the initials A-S. Dunno who, though…”

Longview just stares at me for a few seconds while Haywire takes the gun. Finally, right when I’m getting nervous enough to shuffle my hooves, he asks, “How the hell do you do that?”

Blushing a bit, I answer, “There’s…logic to the way things are built. If you can follow those lines of logic, you can…um…make a lot of inferences from very little information…”

“Doesn’t hurt that you have a photographic freaking memory,” Haywire adds, flipping open the chambers to take stock of the distinct lack of ammo. “Did you find any rounds with the gun?”

“Uh…no. Sorry.” Longview glances me over again. “She really has a photographic memory?”

“Hey Rivet, what’d I have for breakfast a month ago?”

“I…um…I don’t—“

“Hey guys! We might have a problem…ooh!” Manner canters into the doorframe, immediately brightening when she spots the revolver in Haywire’s hooves. “Where’d you get that?”

“I, ah…I found it in her sock drawer. Doesn’t have ammo, but I figured you might want it.” Longview and I share a little knowing chuckle at his almost-casual lie.

The gun wraps itself in Manner’s white glow and plucks itself from Haywire’s hooves as she draws it to herself to inspect it.

“Good quality,” she mutters as she rolls it around in her magic.

“Very,” I blurt out as the three of us trot over to her.

She shoots me a brief smile, before slipping it into her saddlebags. “Well, we’ll keep it around. It’ll be great if we find any rounds for it.” Moving quickly, she pecks him on the muzzle, then leans back slightly to say, “Thank you, sweetie. Now come on. We may have found a small complication.”

“Is it serious?” asks Longview as we follow her into the Atrium, taking a sharp right to follow the stairs down to the ground (?) floor.

“Not immediately, but it complicates things. You’ll see what I mean, but it’s easier to show you than explain.”

We slip into a small silence as we trot across the Atrium, broken only by my statement of, “Radigator Stew with extra potatoes. When you were full you slipped the rest into Manner’s bowl without her knowing.” It’s enough to draw a little chuckle from Haywire, a stunned look from Longview, and a curious glance from Manner.

“Did you really?” she asks backwards to her buck. He just blushes, which makes her chuckle and nuzzle him slightly.

We make our way to the stairway into the floor of the Atrium, where Manner points for us to descend it. The minute my hooves hit the metal grate, I can tell something is off. This entire Stable (along with everything by Stable-Tec, really) has been in nearly-perfect quality. Especially so, given the lack of maintenance for the past two-centuries-at-most. But this looks weathered and haphazard. In fact, it might’ve been so from the day it was built. Immediately, that alone sets off alarm bells in my brain as we descend through the dozen-hooves-thick Atrium floor.

Up past Longview’s cloak-covered saddlebags and Haywire’s lithe figure, I can spot the stairs ending at some kind of catwalk. Beyond the catwalk is a wall made entirely of rough-hewn rock lit by the occasional lamp. Once we leave the stairs, it’s a right-turn towards a T-shaped intersection between this catwalk and another one, which to the right leads to yet another T-intersection where Blade and Ace are watching us approach.

“So you found a cave. What’s the big deal?” asks Haywire.

Blade just gestures downward. So naturally, the three of us peek through the safety rails and—

I can immediately feel myself panic.

This cave goes down for miles.

Maybe it’s some volcanic vent that got buried over time. Maybe it was chewed out by some Tatzulworm. Or maybe it’s just nature skull-fucking any notion of sanity. But what matters is that it’s about the diameter of the Atrium, and there are almost a dozen floors of catwalks and stairwells that extend downwards like a crazed network of fingers, all of it barely scratching the surface of how deep this cavern goes. All those catwalks…all the caves they stretch into…just down and down and down…

Feeling myself tip forward towards the edge slightly, I all but throw myself backwards, straight into Manner’s waiting forelegs. Apparently, she expected me to do that, which is why she managed to not only catch me, but catch me in the perfect damn orientation to give me a comforting hug and soothing coos in my ear that let me actually try and control my breathing.

“Sweet, merciful Celestia…what the hell is this place!?”

“Dunno. But I’ve counted at least a dozen different floors. If they’re all the size of a regular Stable floor…” He doesn’t need to finish that sentence.

Complications indeed.

Longview’s looking at his Pip-Buck, browsing over the maps from what I can see. His expression gets more and more shocked as he keeps going. “It looks like there are five floors built from these caves. The rest look like they’re under construction from what I can see. And yes, all of them are the same size as the Stable.”

“So countin' teh actual Stable floors, that’s…”

“Eight. Eight floors total.”

They all turn back to stare down the ginormous cavern that stretches down into inky blackness, while I shift my gaze in precisely the opposite direction and try to keep myself distracted from the gaping maw of a chasm beneath us. The ceiling above us is the same old Stable-grey, painted with the same Stable Door motif I saw on the Atrium’s ceiling. That same old yellow 16 in the middle, reminding us all of the Stable that…can I even call it a Stable anymore? I think it’s graduated from bunker to underground metropolis.

And that’s when it hits me.

“They built this…”

“What’s that, hon?”

“Th—“ I cough a couple times, trying to get my voice working again. “This wasn’t built by Stable-tec. It’s too shoddy. Too haphazard. But it’s too recent to be built by anypony else before the war, which means…”

“…which means the residents built it,” finishes Blade, staring around with newfound respect.

I jut nod.

“But why'd they do that? They were safe and comfortable up there in that Stable, so why take the risk to punch through teh floor and…this?” Ace finishes eloquently as ever with a simple gesture downward on that last word.

The room is silent as we all try to answer him and turn up blank. And in the silence, both Longviews’ and my Pip-Bucks make a little tic.

His reaction is not just instant but almost frantic, almost like he’s been temporarily replaced with me. Mine is more curious, as I study the little device attached to my foreleg. After waiting for almost a minute, I can spot the needle of the Geiger Counter swing upwards ever-so-slightly with a little tic. And judging by the sound Longview’s Pip-Buck made, his detected the same thing as well.

He considers it for a second while I nose over to the Status screen. There, hidden in a corner, is a dialog showing incoming rads. And it’s currently displaying [0.02 rads/sec].

“Oh…that’s not good,” mutters Longview finally.

“What isn’t?”

“We’re getting rads down here, and since it probably isn’t from the war, I’ll bet all my caps that it’s radiation leaking through the rock from Maripony, which means it’ll only get worse. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue, but since they apparently drilled holes in their Stable…” he groans in annoyance slightly before continuing. “The floor beneath us’ll get it worst, since it’s not specially shielded. That’s followed by the upper floors, and finally the lowest floors.”

“How long until it’s an issue?”

“Guys…”

“Not quite sure, without knowing what this rock’s made of. But if it’s already at this level, maybe…”

“Guys, you should—“

“…week and a half before it’s serious, two weMMMPH!” He’s interrupted by Haywire shoving a hoof in his mouth. Longview shoots him a lethal glare before realizing he’s looking at something else. Something down below us…

Building up my courage with several deep breaths, I peek over with the rest of them.

Ignoring the deafening roar of terror that comes from literally staring a tragic falling-to-my-death accident in the face, I glance around to follow Haywire’s gaze. Maybe down there, right where that tunnel a few floors down has a shadow co—

Ducking down to hide better, I watch that tunnel as carefully as I can.

Spilling out of it is light from the lamps inside, except for the unicorn-head-shaped shadow that’s slowly approaching.

Blade and Ace start sneaking over to us, with the other four of us slowly edging towards the staircase back into the Atrium. Haywire and Manner are already drawing their pistols, and Longview had his trigger-bit in his mouth the minute he saw it. Steel hasn’t drawn his sniper rifle from its perch on his back just yet, maybe because he’s focused on sneaking in thick metal armor.

The pony finally steps out of the tunnel, and I swear I can feel my heart stop for a few beats.

It’s an alicorn. Imposing, powerful, and yet seemingly…malnourished, almost. It’s skinnier and smaller than the others I’ve seen (which doesn’t say much, really), and even slightly lighter-purple than their usual near-black color. Her mane and tail look less ethereal and more…well, hair-like. They still drift and float like she’s underwater, but they don’t have the same Goddess-esque nature.

She glances around nervously from her perch on the catwalks below us, while we slowly…ever-so-gently…make our way toward the Atrium. My heart is pounding in my throat somewhere, and my breaths are coming so hard and fast that my nose has completely dried out. I swallow nervously an—

Clatter! “EEAAAHHHH!”

He didn’t even touch me. I was just scared by the sudden noise. The noise that Platinum Blade made when he bumped his flank on one of the safety rails.

He has just enough time to let out a little, “fuck,” before everything devolves into chaos.

“SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” The screech knocks all of us to the ground, pressing on my skull from both outside and inside.

I stumble back to my hooves. I need to run. If I don’t, she could—

With a flash of light and a loud pop! of displaced air, the alicorn reappears right in front of us. Or, more specifically, right in front of me.

Acting more on reflex than anything, I squeal in terror and kick the lever of my battlesaddle. With a faint hiss of pneumatics and the clicking of joints, my trigger-bit pops up in front of my face, giving me just enough time to bite down on the safety as she finishes conjuring six eldritch knives that point to each of us.

I tongue the trigger as fast as equinely possible, feeling the recoil knock my off-balance flank onto the very edge of the catwalk. All else forgotten, including the whoosh of air as a blade goes by my head, I instantly panic and throw myself sideways, away from the edge but into Longview, who was struggling to line up a shot.

Blam! Manner’s revolver goes off, followed almost immediately by the Ka-BOOM! of Blade’s sniper. The combination of the two bullets shatters the bubble-shield it had wrapped around itself, letting Blade’s bullet tear straight through its shoulder.

With another deafening screech, the alicorn teleports away, leaving us with a clear path.

Echoing throughout the tunnels of Stable 16 start up three new screeches.

“Go! MOVE!”

Blade’s voice gets us all running. Except Longview shoving past me on his way to flee makes me stumble, which makes me nearly fall, which makes me panic and stumble again. All in all, I’m at the back of the pack.

Except for Haywire, who’s…

“Where are you—“ I’m about to keep shouting at him, telling him to keep up, when I realize that Manner can’t stand on her own. One of the eldritch knives managed to catch her right below the cutie-mark, punching straight through her armor and deep into her hindleg. And refusing to leave his mare behind, Haywire’s trying to get her onto his back.

“Just gimme the damn Buck!” he shouts through his gun. “We don’t have time to argue!”

The screeches are getting closer.

From her saddlebags, she floats out a skinny white tube with a pop-top and a bright orange label depicting a cowpony mid-buck. Working as fast as possible, she pops out one of the white tablets, moves his gun as he struggles to stumble forward toward me, and plants the tablet into this mouth.

He chews vigorously, his strides almost immediately getting longer and stronger. By the time he swallows and grabs his gun from Manner’s magic, he’s matching my pace up the stairs.

Just in time, too. I can practically feel one of the alicorns screeching not far behind us. Both Haywire and I, with our above-average hearing, stagger and nearly trip at the sound.

We reach the top of the stairs with no further trouble, though, and by now he’s starting to outpace me. Manner’s hollering for me to try and keep up as I gallop at the hardest and fastest I ever have in my life.

The others are at the hallway to the Overmare’s office. Haywire’s halfway up the staircase there. I’m still at the bottom.

My heart is pounding at me, my lungs begging and pleading with me to stop. But I keep going.

About halfway up, I trip on my Pip-Buck and fall face-first into the stairway, struggling to get back up.

They’re getting closer. I can hear them.

After a couple more tries, I manage to get my hooves under me and charge back up the staircase.

Spinning on my hooves, I get through the door just as Manner shuts it from Haywire’s back halfway down the hall.

Just as it closes, I can hear the hoofsteps of several alicorns entering the Atrium. Hopefully, they won’t realize which of the many directions we’ve gone until we’re long gone.

Haywire slips sideways through the door leading to the entryway.

Hooves pounding, heart throbbing, I keep running. I can feel myself slowing, but I keep running.

At least, until I’m blindsided by the Radroach.

I’m completely knocked over onto my side as it leaps and slams into my gut. We roll over a few times, before finally it finds purchase and clamps down onto my stomach with its mandibles.

I may have screamed. More in terror than in pain, but still.

Swatting at it with fore- and hind-legs, I keep trying to maneuver the gimble on my battlesaddle to point my shotgun at it. But it is just too fucking nimble.

My Pip-Buck slamming into its face gets its attention, just long enough for it to lash out and sink its mandibles into my other leg.

FSHHAT! FSHHAT! FSHHAT! Two bolts of magical energy go right by us, while the third one slams into my side and sends a searing lance of pain through my chest.

Screaming in pain and terror, I rip my foreleg from the Radroaches’ grip and try once again to get my shotgun under it. It responds to my attempts by chomping down right into the side of my neck.

With a scream and a quick glance down, I notice something else: a retractable stinger extending itself from the critter’s underbelly.

“HAYWIRE!!!”

FSHHAT! FSHHAT! In come two more red streaks from Haywire, one of them actually managing to hit the thing. The shot scorches a hole in its shell and a fair bit of the flesh underneath, causing it to stumble and skitter wildly in pain.

Right above my shotgun.

Ka-POW! With a single flick of my tongue, I paint the ceiling in the traditional style of Radroach Guts.

I scrabble my hooves as Haywire runs over to help pull me up to them. Eventually, sick of the whole ‘let-Rivet-run-on-her-own’ song and dance, he decides to just heft me onto his back and carry me the rest of the way.

Once we’re inside, I’m groping through my saddlebag as best I can with a nibbled-on foreleg. Thankfully, my Pip-Buck recognizes what I’m searching for and places that blessed cord right on top.

The alicorns in the Atrium are screeching again. They must have heard my shotgun.

Fighting my own shaking limbs, I plant the cord into the appropriate ports after a couple seconds.

[CLOSE ‘Stable 16 Entry Door’?
Y N]

“YES! CLOSE IT!”

[CLOSING…]

With the hiss of pneumatic cylinders, the door slides sideways, presses outwards, and finally hisses with an airtight seal. Just as it does, I swear I can hear the Atrium door opening.

The silence in the moment that follows is deafening.

[DOOR CLOSED. EJECTING…]

The port on the wall spits out my cable.

I try to catch the other end as it falls, and I just manage to shorten its trajectory enough so that, instead of hitting the floor, it glances off the floor with a little ping!

My heart stops.

It starts up again a few seconds later, but that’s not the point.

And from the look on Haywire’s and Manner’s faces in the light of my Pip-Buck…they’re having similar problems.

Then I hear them. Just barely audible if I focus.

Hoofsteps.

Getting closer.

I bite my own foreleg to keep myself from crying. From the way Haywire stiffens, he hears them too.

They stop, right in front of our door.

‘Oh dear Goddesses, please protect us. Oh dear Goddesses, please protect us.’ I’d be praying it out loud, but I thankfully happen to have a mouthful of foreleg.

The silence drags on…

Nopony dares to move…

‘Oh dear Goddesses, please protect us. Oh de—‘

KRA-KOOOM!

I bite down on my foreleg, hard enough to draw blood. I can feel Haywire jump under me, and Manner lets out a little squeal before silencing herself.

Then the hoofsteps start up again. Fading away as they do.

I don’t hear the Atrium door close, but with the way Haywire relaxes and breathes out a sigh of relief, I know that he does.

Finally, he turns back to me and asks, “Can you walk?”

I start slipping off his back, panting like a madmare and spitting blood out of my mouth. He leans down to help, but it doesn’t matter. The minute I’m off his back, I just crumple.

Haywire starts trying to help me stand, turning to Manner and asking her the same question.

“Dunno. I’m f-feeling kinda…woozy…blood loss, m-maybe.”

“Here. I’ll get her.” Longview’s voice does kinda scare me a little with its sudden appearance, but my ears are too raw from all the screeches and thunderclaps that I barely even hear him, nor have I caught my breath enough to even care.

With some help and direction from Manner herself, he gets her up onto his back and carefully balanced with the help of his saddlebags and battlesaddle to make a better platform. I, on the other hand, get scooped up onto Haywire’s back yet again.

We’re halfway up the stairs when I hear Blade and Ace arguing.

“—have t’ stay! If we don’t find whatever’s down here, teh Enclave’ll exterminate us! And that’s ‘f Red Eye doesn’t git’s hooves on us first!”

“I’m not saying we’re forgetting about this place. We’d be coming right back here for that weapon. But we are coming back here with every Goddesses-damned City Slicker at our backs and packing the biggest guns the Wasteland has to offer! I’d rather not die trying to live!” He spots the four of us coming up into the entry room, and Ace turns to look as well. It’s only then that I notice he’s sporting a thick cut across his cheek. Apparently, Manner wasn’t the only one who got hit with those knives. Blade looks straight at me, then gestures to the terminal and orders, “Get the door, Rivet. We’re leaving.”

Ace spins back around to argue as Haywire carries me over to the Terminal-desk. “By teh time we get back, it’ll be too late! It took us, what, a day t’ git out here? That’s a day there, a day back, and maybe three days t’ search this place! That’s a week, Blade! How many cities d’you think they can wipe in a week with those damned Cloud-ships!? Not to mention, how much’f Old Appleoosa’ll be dust when we do git back!?”

“We have to try! We barely escaped that in there as it is! How many more gambles with those odds do you think we’ll survive!?”

I tune them out after that, slipping off Haywire’s back into a sitting position before the Terminal. A quick plug of my Pip-Buck, a few button presses, and I’ve thought my way through the firewall in under ten seconds flat. For some reason, though, it just doesn’t feel special anymore. I don’t feel excited at the prospect. Just pained and exhausted and terrified and fucking done with this Stable.

It hasn’t even been an hour and I’m sick of it.

[CONTACT OVERMARE’S OFFICE
CONTACT STABLE-TEC HEADQUARTERS
OPEN STABLE DOOR
LOG OUT]

I scroll my way down to ‘Open Stable Door’, do a little more hacking to find the passcode (‘ditzy’, for whatever reason), and hit Enter.

Beeeep!

[ERROR: CONFIRMATION CODE NOT DETECTED.]

…….what?

The screen returns to the menu, so I scroll back down to ‘Open Stable Door’ and try it again.

Beeeep!

[ERROR: CONFIRMATION CODE NOT DETECTED.]

The passcode is right, the system accepts it every time? So what’s going on!?

I try again, getting more and more frantic.

Beeeep!

[ERROR: CONFIRMATION CODE NOT DETECTED.]

“Oh no…no no no don’t do this!”

Again.

Beeeep!

[ERROR: CONFIRMATION CODE NOT DETECTED.]

“What Confirmation Code!? I gave you the password! What more do you want!?”

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“It keeps asking for some kind of confirmation code! Except there’s no option to input it! There’s just the password, hit Enter, and then…”

Beeeep!

[ERROR: CONFIRMATION CODE NOT DETECTED.]

“AUUUGH!”

“Shit. Tell me you can…”

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“No! No no no no no!”

With every word, I hit one of the buttons. Every time all that happens is a loud Beeeep! and the message:

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“There is no Stable-Tec Authority, you worthless piece of junk!” I scream at it.

It does nothing.

The room is absolutely silent as that fact sets in.

If I’m locked out of this terminal, then we can’t get the door open. Which means…

……we’re stuck down here.

Footnote: Level up!

New Perk: Itchy trigger-hoof: If your weapon is readied and you detect a hostile within 1m of you, you receive a free attack to use immediately at that creature. This attack comes at a -5 aim penalty.

Skills note: Mechanics: 50

Chapter 2: The Highest Priority

View Online

Chapter 2: The Highest Priority
“Two hundred losses!? Those ‘losses’ are ponies, you sick sonuva bitch!”

“How long until the radiation gets lethal?”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Week and a half before we’ll start needing regular Radaways, couple weeks before it hits immediately-lethal levels. That’s total guesswork, by the way. Emphasis on the ‘guess’.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“It’s better than nothing. What’s our medical supply look like?

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“For an extended stay, it’s stringent at best. We were planning on just a day-long visit…”

“Just list it out for me, okay?”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Um…Three healing potions, three rolls of magical bandages, four rolls of regular bandages, ten doses of Rad-X, one dose of Radaway, some Dash, some Buck, and one dose of Hydra. That in addition to whatever my horn can do.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“I have my alchemy kit, too. I might be able to cook something up.”

“Not without ingredients, sweetie. And we already used those up on these health potions.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“What can your horn do?

“Well…not a lot. Basic unicorn stuff, a handful of medical spells, and one or two more defensive spells. That’s all we have, unless Longview knows any medical magic?”

“No, I don’t. Sorry.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Alright. That said, I’m making medicine our top priority. And since this isn’t a Solaris Stable, I’m guessing it’s around here somewhere.”

“Translat’n?”

“We’re making another foray. Soon as we’re healed up and full.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Speakin’ o’ full, what’s teh food an’ water situation look like?”

“Not great, but not immediate. If we ration ourselves to one a day, we can last for three. Won’t be fun, but it’s something. Water’s the more pressing concern. Counting Sunrise Sasparillas, one a day will leave us with just over two days’ worth.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“So that’s our next priority then. Securing not only quantities of food and water, but sources of both as well. After all, we don’t know how long we’ll be down here.”

“Two weeks at most, right?”

“Gee, Ace, what stunning optimism you have. Really, it’s almost blinding.”

“Longview, that’s not helping.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Our third and final priority is an escape route of some kind. Either some backdoor or a way to open this one. Call any clue or any route as you see it, but wait for the rest of us before you explore it. “

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Also, kind of on a similar note, can I just throw something out there? I don’t think we should be splitting up again. Period. Ever. I mean, radroach incident aside, what if we split off in pairs and get picked off two-by-two by those alicorns? We have no way of communicating long distance, so we should stay within earshot. Sound fair?”

“Very. Good thinking, Haywire.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“I still can’t believe you shot Silver.”

“I—it was an accident! They were both moving, and my optics got knocked out of alignment when I hit the wall making that corner!”

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, must you break everything you own? You just got that gun…what? A couple weeks ago? And it’s already damaged?”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“…three weeks ago.”

“My point exactly.” She lets out a long sigh. “In any case, Silver, you should prob—Silver? Oh, Goddesses damn it, Silver!”

“Wha—oh, seriously!?”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Did anypony see her slip away?”

“No, sorry.” “Mmm-mmm.” “Ah was supposed t’?”

“Ugh. Okay. You guys keep talking. I’ll…I’ll deal with Silver.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“No ‘fence, butcha don’t really ‘ave teh best track record so far. She’s run for that thing thrice now.”

“I’ve dealt with more than a few of her panic attacks over the years, I know the drill by now. And comparatively, this one’s pretty minor. If we can get her mind off that terminal, it should pass.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“This is minor? I’d hate to see major…”

“’Major’ is her locking herself in her room with Pa Manner’s rifle and threatening everypony who tries to enter with, and I quote, ‘complete, total, and all-encompassing obliteration, ahnihilation, and disentigration’.”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Geez, what is she, a dictionary?”

“Inna way, yeah.”

“Blade, maybe you shouldn’t be telling that story with her right there.”

“You’re just upset because she shot you through a wall after saying that.”

“Silver?”

The fact that her voice is right behind me makes my heart leap into my throat. Acting on pure instinct, I spin around and snap out my hoof to try and shove her back.

My hoof is caught in her white magical glow, and I’m way too weak right now to put up a decent fight against her.

“Oh. Hey, Manner. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m kinda busy right now and I reeeeaaally need to concentrate, so if you could just back up a little bit, that’d be—“

“Come on, sweetie. We need your help with some of the planning.”

“No nononono! Just gimme a sec! I can still fix this! I almost got it! Just one split second…”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

“Silver, you can’t fix this! Co—“

“Yes I can. Just…I just need to concentrate…”

Tap. Beeeep!

[SYSTEM LOCKOUT ENGAGED.
PLEASE WAIT FOR STABLE-TEC AUTHORITY.]

She sighs. “Silver, look at me for a sec.”

“No! Please, just let me try ag—“

“Silver! Look. At. Me.”

Her voice cuts through the layers upon layers of panic that’ve been plaguing my brain for the past hour. Only to add a couple more, because I know that she only uses that tone at me when I’ve royally fucked up.

Tensing as I go, I turn slowly until I can see her. I can’t bring myself to turn all the way, though. I just stare sideways at her frazzled figure.

With something between a sigh and a groan, she limps up in front of me, then sits down carefully and holds my head in her forehooves so I can’t look anywhere but right into her eyes.

“Silver, listen to me. You cannot fix this one.”

“I can. I jus—“

“You’ve been trying for an hour and nothing’s changed. Hell, I wouldn’t even call this trying. You’re just hitting buttons and praying.”

My voice suddenly gets really weak and choked-up. I can already feel tears behind my eyelids. Dammit, why am I crying? I don’t have time to cry! I should be focusing on that terminal!

“…is that so wrong?” I ask meekly.

“Yes it is, Silver. Because it puts us down one very useful and very valuable pony right when we need you the most. So come on, let’s go join the others, and we can start making some kind of escape plan. Okay?”

The tears are starting to spill out. Dammit dammit dammit, can’t I go for one day without crying over something or other!?

“I—I don’t wanna die down here, Manner. I d-don’t wanna—“

She pulls me into a hug, my face pressed into her shoulder. “I know, sweetie,” she whispers gently into my ear. “None of us do. And that’s why we have to keep working and keep fighting, okay? And that includes you.”

After a few seconds, I burrow myself into her grip, sniffling as I go. “Goddesses, I’m so scared…”

Petting my mane gently with one hoof, she coos softly into my ear. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

I may or may not have spent the next few minutes quietly crying into her fur.

Once I’m settled down enough to move, she points her horn at the magic-burn on my side and says, “This may sting a bit, hon.”

At my little nod, her horn lights up with a particularly dense white light. And I squeal in pain almost instantly.

My side is screaming in agony. I can feel every nerve coming back to life as the burned, warped, twisted flesh slowly rights itself.

I can feel that whole area tingle madly once everything’s healed, like I’m being stabbed with a million tiny needles.

Then, it fades away. Quickly. And before long, the skin is a little stiff, but otherwise back to normal.

What’s left of the tingling sensation of her magic scatters throughout the rest of my body, and there’s more stinging as it closes up the bite marks and bruises from my stumble and duel with the radroach. Before long, all that’s left is a handful of tiny little W-shaped scars on my neck and foreleg. One look at my side, though, and I nearly squeal again.

Sitting there, just behind my shoulder, is a bright pink dot about the diameter of an Anti-Machine round. Stretching out from it in all directions are thick jagged points, the longest of which is nearly two inches. It looks like some kind of giant, angry-pink sunburst that’s forever branded onto my side. And while it may not represent anything particularly special or unpleasant, it still nags at my brain worse than the burning sensation in my leg and neck.

Manner is sitting in front of me, panting and gasping slightly for air. All that spellcasting is starting to take its toll, apparently.

I stare back at the scar, whimpering slightly, before finally asking, “Can’t you do anything about that?”

She shakes her head.

“Aww, come on, Little Rivet. Everypony loves a mare with scars.”

Hearing that come from him is particularly distressing. “N-not everypony…”

“Daisy Doo! Ah bet she’d go head over heels if’n yeh showed ‘er that.”

I don’t bother saying anything to Ace as he trots over. Thankfully, Haywire voices my thoughts. “Daisy also has the distinct issue of being an absolute asshole. And Goddesses preserve the pony who makes Rivet date an asshole.”

Manner interrupts us by letting out a blast of breath in relief. The glow around her horn flickers and dies, while the corresponding glow around her flank-wound pops like a bubble to reveal a thick pink scar. At least hers camouflages with her coat. Leave it to Manner to even get injured more classily than me.

“Okay,” she pants. “That’s it. I’m wiped. Anypony else gets shot or stabbed, you can chug a healing potion until you’re pissing purple.”

I can’t help but giggle. I guess she can’t take a hit in a classy way.

“Alright, everypony. We should get going sooner rather than later. Time waits for nopony.”

“U-um…shouldn’t we wait a bit longer?”

Longview, Ace, and Haywire are giving me that look now. The ‘you’re-just-saying-that-because-you’re-scared’ look. So I quickly explain my reasoning.

“The…um…alicorns. They might still b—be in the atrium…”

Ace shrugs. “Then we send Wire ‘ere out teh check. T’ain’t hard. Right, Wirey?”

Haywire screws up his face slightly in thought. “Yeah, kind of. They didn’t seem particularly perceptive, just…aggressive. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ah’m glad! An’ if all else fails, Ah’ll jus’ enforce with mah special talent!” He wiggles his flank a little more than suggestively, showing off the three spiked hoofshoes painted over his leather barding. I make a point to avoid looking, but I know the painted-on image is a perfect duplicate of his cutie-mark, so I don’t really need to look either.

“If I recall, you did more running and less ‘enforcing’ in our last little spat with them.” Yes! Go Manner! Show him who’s boss!

“Y’all were takin’ yer potshots! ‘f Ah got in teh way, Ah’d be dead right now!”

With any luck, getting shot would improve his attitude some.

“Hey Ace!” The sound of his nickname grabs his attention in no time, getting him to glance over to where Blade and Longview are looking over his Pip-Buck (and is it just the light, or are Longview’s cheeks just a little bit pink?). Blade waves at Ace and adds, “Get over here really quick. I need some advice.”

He nods and trots away from us, the brash-and-cocky brawler instantly replaced with the tactical mind that earned him a second-in-command slot.

The minute he’s moved away, I breathe out a little sigh of relief. I really need to find a place where he’s not hanging over my head constantly. Maybe the vents?

Haywire walks over to where Manner is catching her breath and asks quietly, “You gonna be okay?”

“I’m fine. Just worn out.”

He nods after a split second, then gives her a little nuzzle. She giggles and nuzzles him back, which makes him chuckle and return the favor, and before I know it, the two of them have devolved into a tickle party not two hooves away.

I just roll my eyes and nose my Pip-Buck. Sometimes, they are the most unbelievable ponies I’ve ever met.

Click. Cli-cli-cli-click.

Chunk.

“Welcome back to the Adventures of a Pip-Buck Repair Filly. I hope you don’t mind if I don’t do the theme song this time, but I’m not in the best mood. I…kinda got in big trouble for that hiding spot I found. In fact, I only just got un-grounded from my Pip-Buck.

“But on the plus side, I managed to find a new hiding spot!”

Face, meet hoof.

Some ponies never learn, do they?

“On the second level, underneath the Medical Wing, near the back of the hallway, there’re some vents that’re bigger than normal.” I can hear Ace and Blade perk up at the words ‘Medical Hall’. “So I crawled in, went straight through this weird purple shield thing, and voila! There’s this big room in here, not on any maps or anything! It’s completely empty, but I can see a bunch of terminal plugs and stuff. All I found in it was some really fancy gun thing. Didn’t have any bullets, but still cool enough to keep.”

Manner pulls out the Overmare’s revolver we found and looks it over from the midst of her cuddle-pile with Haywire. I can’t see specifically, but I know she’s probably reading the note attached to it, trying to puzzle out the identity of A.S. and the secrets that may be held there.

“Anyway, I started moving some of my things in. Some games, toys, a little bookshelf with all my favorite books, and all my Pip-Buck maintenance tools!

“…”

Without warning, her voice dropped from the bubbly, excited filly into a quiet, sad little voice.

“Honestly, I’m starting to need this hiding place more and more. It’s….It’s like everypony expects me to be a supermare or something. It’s not fair! Just because I’m the Overmare’s daughter doesn’t make me special.”

Whoa whoa whoa…WHAT?!? OVERMARE’S DAUGHTER!?

Bombshell much!?

“Doesn’t even get me any cool favors. But everypony expects so much out of me, and if I get a single ‘C’ on a test, it’s like I failed the whole Stable.

“…ponies are stupid.

“Anyway, this has been the Adventures of a Pip-Buck Repair Filly……can I actually call myself that if I’ve only repaired one Pip-Buck ever? Tune in next time for…something, I guess.”

The click of her signing off almost fills our half of the room. The other half is filled with the chatter of Blade, Ace, and Longview using this new information to try and track down the Medical Hall.

I don’t even notice. My brain is still reeling.

“She was the Overmare’s...daughter!?”

“I…guess so.”

“B-but wouldn’t that make her, like…a super-celebrity or something!? Next in line for leadership?! And she’s talking about no cool favors!?”

I’m about to keep going when I see Haywire shaking his head. “Overmare of a Stable is an elected position. Once an Overmare gets ready to retire, the rest of the ponies pick a new Overmare from their own ranks. So an Overmare’s daughter would just be a title.”

I’m taking that in when Manner shakes her head from her perch atop his chest. “Not all Stables are like that, sweetie. I heard about one from a trader…forget the number, but it’s somewhere down near the Hoof. They passed the job from mother to daughter.”

He just shrugs. “’The only constant between Stables is that there are no constants between Stables.’ But I’m just trying to point out why ‘Overmare’s Daughter’ would be nothing special.”

I nod slightly, taking in that information and formulating theories, while Manner just looks up at him and asks, “Where’d you learn that phrase?”

“Friend of mine, from when…when I was younger.”

They fall into a little silence, staring at each other, as I nose over to the Stats menu. I glance up at them for a brief moment. For how well they mesh, one would think their cutie marks are a yin and a yang. Rather than a magnifying glass for him and three white hearts for her.

Pushing those thoughts aside before they get distracting, I flip over to the ‘Templates’ tab, trying to decipher its meaning.

[Current Template: ------
Preset Templates:

Inspiration

Party Time

Power Nap

Vacation

Workaholic
Custom Templates:

VRXIFA
]

…Obviously, the Templates must have something to do with the empty space from the lack of a peripheral port. Since those two seem unique to this Pip-Buck, they’re probably connected. As for the names…

Well, it doesn’t look like one of these is on right now. But without knowing the driving mechanism here, there are a lot of things these names could mean. And then there’s that last one, which I’m pretty sure is some kind of secret code. But what does it mean? What’s it trying to tell me?

I scroll down to this ‘VRXIFA’ and just look at it, as if begging it to surrender its secrets.

It doesn’t respond. The jerk.

…well, there’s always one way to figure out what something does…

Pre-emptively wincing and waiting for some massive explosion, I mentally hit ‘Select’.

Click!

[Current Template: VRXIFA
Preset Templates:

Inspiration

Party Time

Power Nap

Vacation

Workaholic
Custom Templates:
]

Nothing happens.

And after a few seconds of waiting, nothing continues to happen.

Gently uncoiling to tab around the Pip-Buck’s menus, it doesn’t take long to tell that absolutely nothing has changed.

Nothing about the operating system acts, looks, or operates differently.

The whole thing is perfectly normal.

Well, as normal as a Pip-Buck can get when it’s missing things like an EFS and a Peripheral Slot.

“Something wrong?”

I meep and jump slightly, only to realize it’s just Manner. And…geez, how did those two get more tangled up? Shaking my head, I reply, “No, just…some weird function on this thing that doesn’t make sense.”

She shrugs…somehow. “Well, hon, that’s your area of expertise, not mine.”

I nod, then just mutter, “You did ask.”

I reach back into my saddlebags, pulling out my canteen (which seems noticeably heavier than I remember) and taking a drink.

Haywire perks up and glances over. “How much is in that thing?”

“Um…five bottles worth.”

He gets a blank look, then deadpans, “That solves a lot of problems right there. Something I could’ve known a long time ago.”

I blush a little, cringing and gesturing at the terminal nearby. “S-sorry. I was…um…busy.”

He’s about to say something that’s probably full of snark, when Blade trots over looking like a million caps. “Good news, everypony! We think we found the Med-Wing!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! Little Rivets ‘ere sure has good timin’!” Ace trots up and shoots me a toothy grin that makes me shudder.

Manner nods and grins back, much to my chagrin.

Haywire just asks, “So we’re heading out?”

“Yup. Suit up and arm up! We move when we’re ready!” As if to emphasize his point, Blade slams a fully-loaded clip into his sniper rifle and slings it onto his back.

With little more than a nod, Manner and Haywire untangle themselves from each other and stand up. Haywire checks his ME-Pistol, turning to me as he does, while Manner flips out her revolver and opens the chambers. I, on the other hoof, pull my legs under me and try to stand.

And fail. Miserably.

It’s like I spontaneously put on a hundred extra pounds. Suddenly, my saddlebag/battlesaddle feels less like a natural extension to my body and more like a painfully-nailed-on piece of barding that’s covered in lead weights and sandbags. Even my Pip-Buck feels like it gained a few extra pounds.

Haywire’s face quickly draws into concern. “You…okay?”

I nod and try again. Whatever that was, it seems to have more or less passed, as I manage to stand up like nothing’s wrong. Despite the fact that my legs are a little shakier than normal.

Flashing him the biggest smile I can muster (it’s actually kind of pathetically tiny), I nod again. See? Bear witness to how little babysitting Silver Rivet needs! Now let’s find a way out of this Stable!

He doesn’t look like he believes it at first, until he’s interrupted by Manner’s scowling face asking, “Anypony have any .357-rounds?”

“Don’t think so. Sorry, hon.”

“What’s the matter?” asks Longview as he approaches. “You out?”

“On my last five. Bloatsprites may be easy to fight, but they do a number on your ammo stock.”

“Here,” Haywire starts towards me, making me jump a little as he holds out his gun. “Mind taking a look?”

I nod and take in my hooves, sitting down on my hindlegs. It’s not flopped over on the ground, but it’s a touch of relief. Turning his gun over and over, I take quick and efficient stock of the parts, dredging up the blueprint for his specific weapon from my memory and cross-referencing it with the one I’m making just now. Already, I can see a few nasty discrepancies. Like the fact that his Arcane Focusing Lens is just slightly tilted. Less than a tenth of a degree, but at the range of a few yards, that can make all kinds of difference.

Not to mention, the mirrored barrel of the Focus Optics is slightly warped. From what it looks like, the tilted Focusing Lens is causing the main portion of the beam to hit it, rather than just the peripheral scattering like it’s supposed to. Since that’s a little more than the mirrors can handle, it’s starting to warp slightly. Not enough to cause trouble, but that won’t stay true for long if that lens isn’t realigned. Not to mention, that alone is decreasing beam power just slightly, as more of the beam is reflected aside.

As for the rest of the gun, it looks pretty alright. But if it takes another hit like that, it certainly won’t be for long.

I hand it back to him, struggling slightly to hold it up, dropping my forelegs as soon as he takes it. “Your focusing lens is slightly twisted, and I’m not sure I have hooves steady enough to calibrate it on that level. So for now, aim slightly up and to the right. It’s gonna need a new barrel if we wait too long, and it won’t be able to take another hit like that, so take good care of it until I can find some replacement parts and steady hooves.”

“Ah got steady hooves. Might be worth somethin’.”

“Oh!” I feign brightening up in surprise as I turn to Ace. “So you can calibrate an Arcane Focusing Lens using a ninety-degree Mag-grip screwdriver to within a hundredth of a degree of accuracy in its alignment? Such talent!”

Okay, on second thought…maybe not the smartest thing to do. Probably should’ve thought it over a few dozen times. And if it were anypony else, I would’ve.

But his face…so fucking worth it.

I can hear Manner giggling to herself, and a couple others are stifling chuckles. I’m working hard to stifle a little giggle myself, while Ace just stands there dumbfounded. “Maybeh not…”

A few giggles escape before I can pull them back, and I once again struggle to get on my hooves. It takes a few tries, but I manage.

“Daaang. Sassy Silver strikes again!” Manner laughs, and Longview and Haywire are joining in.

I just blush slightly and start for the stairway down, followed closely by Blade and the others.

I’m just barely a few steps down when I damn near trip over the edge of the stair and go tumbling. I have to flail for a few seconds.

It’s this damn Pip-Buck! When did it get so heavy all of the sudden?

“You okay, Rivet?” Asks Blade, sneaking close behind me. The sound is enough to make me stiffen like I’ve had ice water dumped onto my spine, but not much else. I’m too tired for anything else.

“Y-yeah. Fine,” I stammer out once I can talk. “J-just need to…focus…”

After lighting my Illumination Talisman, I make sure to keep my steps slow, measured, and careful. The last thing I want in a place like this is to trip and fall down the stairs.

Finally, after what feels like ages, we make it to the bottom. A couple tries that nearly send me sprawling later, and I’ve managed to balance on three hooves for long enough to plug my Pip-Buck into the wall port.

[OPEN ‘Stable 16 Entry Door’?
Y N]

It takes a couple tries, but I manage to engage the kick-lever that flips out my trigger-bit with a small pneumatic hiss. Turning back, I nod slightly to Blade.

“Everypony ready?” he calls back to the group.

They voice their various affirmations, whereupon he turns back to me and nods. I nod back and mentally hit ‘y’, grasping my trigger-bit in my mouth.

[OPENING……]

The door slides open, and Blade and I are both set and ready for whatever comes.

Which makes me wonder exactly why I screamed in surprise and terror at the radroach that jumps straight at us.

Kra-POW!

Complete miss. Moreover, the recoil is enough to knock me straight back into Haywire.

I’m so damn lucky Blade’s standing right next to me. Because it was apparently aiming for him and not me.

His hoof swings and cleanly misses, giving the two-hooves-long insect a clear shot to clasp onto his side. Its legs cling with surprising aptitude to the rough metal of his armor, but its mandibles can’t seem to find purchase as it tries to bite down.

Blade steps out of the hallway, freeing up enough space to turn and show the side the radroach is on toward Ace.

Who proceeds to punch it with extraordinary prejudice.

Crunch! Ace’s brass hoofshoe plants itself firmly onto the roaches’ backside, making it squeal in pain but somehow continue to hold on.

It seems to process the fact that it’s not getting anywhere with the metal-armored pony and instead jumps at the orange-coated, red-maned form of Blazing Ace himself.

And lands directly onto his waiting hoof.

With a shout of fury I never expected to hear from that pony, he stands up on his hindlegs and pile-drives the radroach into the ground. Its unarmored underside caves in around his hoof with a sickening Splat! and a spray of greenish-yellow radroach guts.

Picking his hooves up out of the mess and grinning like a crazy pony, he chuckles, “Anypony else need an exterminator?”

Collectively, we all just groan as I push myself back onto shaky hooves. I’d facehoof, but I don’t really have the balance for it at the moment.

“Really, Ace. If you’re gonna pull out a lame pun, at least make it less cliché,” groans Longview as he carefully steps around the mess.

Suddenly, the corpse is wrapped in a pale white glow and lifted off the ground. Manner carefully walks up to it and starts highlighting various bits of its interior with her magic.

“Um…sweetie…why?” Haywire’s just behind me, covering his nose and trying not to look at the sight of his wife burying her head in the corpse of a giant insect. I’m not afraid to admit that I cringe a little, too. Especially when hit by the smell of the other radroach I painted the ceiling with earlier.

Completely nonchalantly, she explains, “This radroach doesn’t look quite right. The back armor’s too flexible, there’s no armor underneath, and the legs are slightly different. I’d like to see what other differences are there.”

“Well…have fun, I guess.” Haywire nudges me from behind to where the others are heading, towards the Atrium.

Goddesses damn it, why do I keep swaying? This is getting annoying.

Walking by the first door on my right, I take a long look at the nameplate. It’s a good excuse for a little “rest”, and lets Haywire past me.

The nameplate is scratched out completely, probably by a century of passing radroach feet. But I think I can just make out the tops of letters. It’s enough to let me know that there are two words in this name, five letters each.

The second line is three letters, but given how little of them are left, I could be wrong.

Resuming my walk, I pass by that office that continues to puzzle me with the nameplate alone.

{FOG BANK
VIP}

Who is this Fog Bank pony? Why would they get their own office up here with the Overmare? And VIP? If Stables are all about survival, why would they waste time and effort on a VIP?

Or maybe my definition of VIP is different from theirs…

Realizing I’d stopped to stare at the office door like it was in an interrogation, I sigh and resume my walk, taking careful, measured steps. I make it to the little crowd by the Atrium door just as Haywire returns from the Overmare’s office.

“Place is clear. Dunno about the hallways, though, so stay careful.”

They nod and Ace flicks open the door. With the kind of care only a trained survivalist could pull off, he and Longview step out the door and turn right along the catwalk. Blade and Haywire are right behind them, and I can hear Manner trotting up behind me. So I take a deep breath and take the first steps into that nightmare pit.

It’s real pity that those steps are an absolute fumble.

My hoof lands somehow on its tip. Maybe because of the fucking too-heavy Pip-Buck, or maybe I just dragged it slightly too much. In any case, it curls awkwardly under me, and wheee! Down I go, straight into the metal floor!

I can hear Manner’s pace increasing with urgency, and Haywire’s turned around with clear concern and terror on his face. “Rivet?” he asks.

“I’m fine!” I reply, waving off his concern with a hoof as I roll onto my stomach and push myself upwards.

I think I get about an inch before my legs refuse to take the weight.

Dammit! Come on, Silver, just stand the fuck up! We don’t have time for this!

I actually manage it, too, on the second try.

It’s just a pity that Manner picks that moment to shove me back to the ground.

“Stay still, Silver. We don’t know what’s wrong.” Her command given, she immediately begins a precursory examination on my various limbs.

“I know it’s nothing important. Now come on. We need to move,” I mutter back.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Silver can’t move.”

“I can move!” I snap back at Blade. “I just…” I struggle against Manner’s hoof as it holds me to the ground.

That’s not fair! When did she put on a million extra pounds!?

“Silver, if you keep trying to move, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

I just silently growl with annoyance. We don’t have time for this shit!

“What’s wrong?” Haywire asks quietly to her. Like I can’t hear them.

“I don’t know! Her muscles just aren’t working properly!”

“Maybe she’s just scared again!” calls back Longview.

“No, that wouldn’t do something like this. Silver, I need you to tell me if you have any other symptoms.”

Oh boy. She’s in doctor mode again. “Nothing. I mean, my foreleg and side are kind of itchy, but it shouldn’t have anything to do with anything.”

Haywire’s brow furrows instantly. “Isn’t that where the radroach bit you?”

Instantly, Manner’s head snaps upright and spins toward the radroach corpse in her magical glow. She draws it to herself, all but tears open its mandibles to look inside the cavity behind them.

“You’re telling me a radroach did this?” Blade asks, walking up.

Haywire simply shrugs.

I try yet again to stand up, and fail yet again. Aaaand now Haywire’s holding me down. Jerk. He’s supposed to be helping me up.

“We need to move,” Longview states simply. “We’re too exposed here.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Whatever Blade was about to say is thrown to the wayside by Manner. “This stupid thing has venom glands!?”

Lo and behold, she rips a small, teardrop-shaped green thing from the back of the radroaches’ throat. It’s barely the size of a tooth, and covered in little bulbs and tumor-looking things. Needless to say, it’s not something pleasant-looking.

“What c’ed it do?”

“I’ll need to analyze it if I want to know for sure, but for now, I think we can assume it does this,” she gestures a hoof over to me.

Gee, thanks Manner.

“All the more reason to get to the medical wing,” Haywire points out.

“Agreed. I can carry her,” offers Blade.

“I…I don’t need to be carried!”

Haywire and Ace promptly ignore me, all but throwing me onto Blade’s back. As they march out into the Atrium, it doesn’t take long for me to sullenly accept my fate.

“Can I at least be some kind of turret?” I mutter at Manner.

She just gives me a little smile back. “You’d need to be able to turn to be a turret.”

Oh. Right. Goddesses damn it.

“You know, for a pony who’s named after it, your bedside manner is terrible.”

“Hush,” Blade grumbles beneath me (speaking of beneath me, he could really use some new armor. This metal stuff chafes). “Don’t forget we’re in enemy territory here.”

Stifling the angry sigh for later, I mutter, “Yes sir.”

After Blade’s order, none of us bother talking for the rest of the short walk. We’re all extremely on edge, though. It’s clear in the way Ace is tiptoeing around to avoid the loud clacking sound his hoofshoes make on this metal floor. Or the way Longview and Haywire both have their trigger-bits in their mouths. Or the way I can feel Blade tensing up beneath me every time some noise echoes out from the…Sub-Atrium? Second Atrium? Oversized pit straight down into nothingness just waiting to swallow us all whole?

Rrrg. Focus, Rivet. Focus on getting out of here and not stapling names to everything.

It takes surprisingly little time for us to circle around the walkway to the hallway opposite the one we came from. Either the Atrium is smaller than first glance would imply, or it’s just a side effect of not being able to actually walk the distance.

Once we reach the six-o-clock hallway (using the hallway to the Overmare’s office as noon), though…

Manner presses herself against the adjacent window, looking like a foal at Hearth’s-Warming. “Oh…merciful Celestia…”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong! But…that facility…”

The others peek in through the windows, while Longview trots down the hallway we’d been intending to go down. I would peek into the window with them, but Blade happens to be pointed the wrong direction.

“Jus’ looks like a buncha flasks ‘n hot plates teh me.”

“Yes, but it’s intact flasks and working hot plates! Not just that but distilleries, burettes, centrifuges…a pony with the know-how and access to this could make any chem known to ponykind!”

“…wow…”

“Well, as long as it really is working, hon. Rivet?”

“I…can’t quite…”

“Oh, here.” Blade turns slightly, and instantly, I can see the whole room stretching into the darkness. Row after row of desks, carefully sorted ingredients, and all kinds of chemistry equipment even I don’t know the names of. All of it perfectly preserved, with only a thin layer of dust to show the passage of time.

“Ah…yeah. Everything looks like it works. Well…from here at least…”

“Then I think we just found our new priority. Ace?”

“Mos’ definitely. But how’re we gettin’ in?”

“There’s a door down there. Wouldn’t respond to anything I did, though,” Longview mutters, trotting back into view. When we all just look at him as if he was a mysterious specter, he just shrugs, adjusts his cloak, and says, “You were all distracted, so I scouted ahead.”

“Well, maybe Rivet can work her magic to get us in,” Haywire offers, leaving me to blush slightly at the praise. “And if nothing else, I have a screwdriver and a few bobby pins that might help.”

Blade nods, then asks, “Were there any other doors?”

“Yeah, two others. Couldn’t get ‘em open, but one was cracked enough to maybe pry. Might be worth a try.”

“Alright then. Ace, Manner…let’s see what we can do with those doors. Longview, take Rivet and Haywire to that locked door and check that out.”

Longview simply nods and steps up alongside Blade for the Rivet-transfer, which is unfortunately facilitated by Ace. Ugh…why couldn’t it have been Haywire? Pretty please?

…okay, Ace…you will be paying for that hoof on my flank once I get my legs working again. I’ll make sure Haywire makes you pay.

Once I’m situated on Longview’s rather comfortable back, and Ace is trotting away with Manner and Blade, I finally breathe a small sigh of relief. Of all the backs I’ve ridden on today, Longview’s is definitely the most comfy. Between the wide platform of his gear and the fuzzy comfort of his winter-cloak, it’s a comfortable back to ride on. And after going from the chafe-fest of Blade’s armor to this…I let a little smile onto my face.

The nearest door on my right is the one that Ace and Blade are currently trying to pry open, as something seems to have gotten stuck in the slide-track. We simply walk past them, towards the lone door on the left side of the hallway.

Longview trots up to the control panel, then taps the little switch over to the ‘open’ position with one hoof.

Nothing happens.

“See? It’s not even lockout or something. It’s just not responding.”

Within seconds, I’ve mentally disassembled the door mechanism, even around Haywire’s hooves as he struggles with the key-slot. Stable-tec Model 4, with a port for Terminal and Pip-Buck control and reprogramming. There should be two, but one of them’s covered, implying it’s capable of being controlled from elsewhere. And naturally, the ports have been modified into the square ones that seem to be utterly unique to this Stable. It makes me wonder just how hard life would be for us if I didn’t find that Interface Cable with Sunny Charm’s corpse.

‘Focus, Rivet! Stop getting distracted!’

Obeying the part of my brain that’s not wandering, I refocus back on the door mechanism, taking stock of every part I can see. Control switch. Connection port. Key slot, to which Haywire just lost a bobby pin. Status light indicator. Power li—

“Oh. Duh.”

“What?”

“It…um…doesn’t have any power. That’s why it’s not working.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re telling me I just wasted a bobby pin for nothing!?”

Wincing preemptively at his reaction, I nod.

“AUGH! Dammit! Why didn’t you tell me sooner!? I only have so many of these things, you know!”

“S-Sorry. I didn’t notice until now…”

Longview turns slightly under me, as if to put himself between us, but Haywire’s already controlling his breathing and calming himself. Once he’s calmer-looking, he asks, “If the power’s out, then why are the lights still working?”

Lo and behold, something I hadn’t noticed until now was that one or two of the lights are, indeed, working. Barely. They flicker wildly, and their light is a lot dimmer than an Arcanotech Bulb of that make and model should be, but they work.

“Maybe…” I start, before choosing my words carefully, then restarting, “Maybe the batteries are running low? Or—“

“And what’s up with the Overmare’s section. The doors were fine there,” Longview adds.

“Maybe…um…maybe they’re a priorithy…”

“I’m hearin’ a lotta maybe’s comin’ offa yeh, Little Rivet.”

“Look, I don’th know, offay!? Shere’s a losha shings ish fould be, and I’m shrying she fishure ish ouf, sho lay off!”

Apparently, nopony except Haywire is used to the idea of me shouting at them, as I managed to stun them all into silence. It’s either that or they have nothing to say to that. I choose to believe the answer of ‘both’.

The silence is just starting to turn awkward when Manner walks up and asks, “Silver, what’s wrong with your voice?”

“Fwash?” It’s only once she points it out that I notice just how awkward talking around my lethargic tongue has gotten recently. “Noshing’s…Nosh…Nothhhhhh…” Three tries, and I’m reduced to groaning noisily about my apparent inability to say the word ‘nothing’ properly.

“Ace! Haywire!” All of us glance over to where Blade is struggling to pry open the door alone. “Help me with this?”

As they trot away, Manner starts prodding me with her magic. Lifting my legs, moving my hooves around, and even prying open my mouth. And naturally, I can’t even do anything about it.

“Being paralyshed shucksh…”

“I know, sweetie. Just…hang in there, okay?” She turns to Longview. “Can you open this door?”

He shakes his head. “Needs power. Apparently, some do and some don’t. Right?” It’s a struggle, but I manage to move my head in what might be a tiny nod. “How can you tell, anyways?”

“She ligshs above she swishh. Lef’ one.”

He nods, looking back at me with a concerned stare, before turning to Manner and asking, “She…will be okay, right?”

“Hard to say. Her autonomous functions seem to be unaffected. Heart rate, breathing, eye motion...completely normal. But everything else is just…not working.” She runs a hoof through her slightly-curly candy-cane mane, the nervous action practically instinctual at this point. I could brew up an antivenom if I had that lab...but until then, all we can do is keep her comfortable and not get bit.”

Thanks, Manner. Way to talk about me like I’m not here.

…not like I could say anything legible anyways, but still.

Screeeeeech! Clunk!

Once we’re done wincing from the harsh noise, all three (well, two) of us whip around toward the door being pried. They managed to pull it off, but…that was one hell of a loud noise.

We all stiffen, weapons all but readying themselves as we wait for that inequine scream that’ll signal the arrival of alicorns.

Nothing yet…

……

…still nothing…

……

…there is no way they didn’t hear that.

……

Haywire simply turns back to us slightly and shakes his head.

Seriously?

They must be borderline deaf.

Longview and Manner relax (though only slightly, if Longview’s back-tension is anything to go by) and start making their way over to the newly-opened door. Ace turns and enters ahead of us at an unspoken signal from Blade, while Blade and Haywire both stand vigilant, ears perked and guns at the ready.

The instant we walk into the room, three things grab my attention. The first is that the walls are covered in cracked and fading paint, similar to that of the Overmare’s office. The second is the Model 195 terminal on the desk, a common staple of the Equestrian Wasteland. And the third is the fact that the object jamming the door mechanism was, in fact, somepony’s ribcage.

Just the ribcage, though. Not entirely sure where the rest of them went. Which means I’m denied a spare Pip-Buck to disassemble and study. Dammit.

As if sensing my innate desires, Longview plonks me down at the chair behind the desk, wiping the thin layer of dust off the terminal for me, pulling the Interface Cable from my bag, and plugging my Pip-Buck into the terminal.

“Shanksh,” I mutter quietly at him. Apparently, that’s all my voice can do right now.

He just nods as the terminal boots up. “Need anything else?”

I shake my head. No need to bug him with my desire to use the bathroom.

He nods at my response, then trots off to join Haywire and Blade. Ace and Manner are both trying to explore the rooms past the right wall, since the doors here actually have power (for unexplainable reasons). One looks like a staff lounge from what I can see, while the other I can’t see properly from where I’m sitting.

I turn back to the terminal, thought-commanding the thing to go into debug mode. At least that still works…

Within seconds, I’ve thought myself past the firewall and into the wall of gibberish, which contains the password…somewhere.

Okay…that one’s junk. So is that one. Aaaand…three more junk passwords down. Time to start guessing.

Ooooh, so close.

Ha! Got it!

‘melody’, huh? Interesting…

[Review Patient Files

Work Schedule and Punch Clock

Review Personal Journals

Log out]

Yawn to the first two. Third one might be fun to glance over, though.

[Personal log 1: 6/14/2058

So, apparently, I’ve been situated as this Stable’s doctor. Me and about two other ponies. Honestly, how do they expect three doctors to handle the well-being of over three hundred ponies!? It’s absurd!

Still, I can see why it’s like this. So few doctors made it through after the megaspells hit. Not to mention, between us and the Chem Lab across the hall, we should have the Stable Sniffles covered. So I guess it works out.

And credit where credit is due, this Dinky Doo sure knows her stuff. Overmare for three days and she’s already got the place running like a well-oiled machine. Kudos.

Anyway, I don’t expect to be using this thing much. I have better things to do with my time. But I thought I’d mark my arrival or something. For the records.

~Dr. Morbid Humor, M.D.]

Click.

[Personal log 2: 2/5/2098

Had another cave-in today. Killed one, critically injured three. Barely managed to get those three stable in time.

Unbelievable. What the hell is Fog Bank even looking for down there? What’s so important that we’d h--]

“Silver?”

I try my vary hardest to jerk out of my chair and flee in surprise, but my body outright refuses to cooperate. I manage the squeak, though.

Manner’s standing politely nearby. “Could I steal you away from that for a bit?”

I let out a little groan, starting up my foolproof rationale for why I should keep reading through the personal logs of long-dead doctor ponies, but she cuts off my monologue with, “Just for a bit. I promise I’ll put you back. But this is important.”

Begrudgingly, I nod. Within moments, a white magical glow has disconnected my Pip-Buck from the terminal and guided me onto the pink-coated back of my adoptive sister. I can feel her struggling under my weight, but at least we don’t have far to go.

She leads me into the room she’d been exploring, which looks like some kind of examination room now that I can see it clearly. Along one wall is a simple bed with curtains surprisingly bereft of dust. The wall across from it is loaded with medical equipment. I can’t say their names or functions, but I can mentally dissect their inner workings in seconds. And alongside the expected array of syringes and bandages, I can spot what looks like hammers, electrodes, and a dizzying array of saw blades and scalpels.

It’s enough to make me try and shiver, breath quickening a bit.

With a struggling, magic-aided heave, Manner hauls me off her back and onto the bed.

“Whew! I guess I need to start working out,” she breathes.

I can’t help but laugh at that one. It’s this breathy little sound, but it’s something. Something this stupid poison hasn’t taken from me just yet.

She takes a couple more seconds to recuperate (who knew I weigh that much? Though I’m betting most of that weight is in my saddlebag and gun), then starts adjusting me so I’m lying on my legs with one foreleg hanging off the side. “It’s either that or the rocks you’ve been eating. Can’t decide which.”

My smirk joins her own, and I mutter back, “Shon’t eash rossh. Shash’s your Pa.” Geez, my voice has gotten quiet. I thought she said my breathing was fine!

She lets out a groan, but it’s accompanied with a smile. “Oh, ha ha. ‘Pa Manner eats rocks for breakfast’. Very original, Silver.”

Okay, lame joke. But it’s enough to get us chuckling as she browses over the array of medical tools. My chuckle turns into totally-justified and extremely-mild hyperventilation. Her magic eventually wraps around…oh. Oh no. She’s going for the one with the electrodes and the Spark Battery. Oh dear Goddesses, no…

She must have seen the look on my face upon turning around, because she almost immediately groans, “Look, Silver, I know how you feel about medical equipment, but I need to do this. If I’m going to make some kind of antivenom, I need to know if it’s the muscles or the nerves being affected. So…please, just try and calm down for me, okay?”

My look of abject terror remains.

“Please, Silver? You could be dying.”

“Thoo-Do I have a shoishe?”

“No, but it’d make me feel a lot better.”

Rrrrrg…

…well, at least she doesn’t give me puppy-dog eyes like her husband.

Plus, out of all the ponies who are liable to be trusted in my vicinity with a glorified taser, I suppose Manner would be at the top of that list.

I do my best to nod, pulling off little more than a tiny motion. One she apparently catches, as she puts on a little smile and gets to work hooking up that monstrosity to my foreleg.

…I wonder who would be at the bottom of that list? Ace comes to mind first, but I have to consider that he’d probably end up shocking himself with it, so he wouldn’t be any more threatening than normal. Fiber Optic, maybe? Or Daisy Doo. Tough call between—

The sudden appearance of the rest of the group is enough to make me jump a little. Blade glances around the Exam Room nervously, before continuing onward to the Staff Lounge. Ace and Longview follow him, while Haywire trots into our room and shuts the door behind him.

“Two alicorns were in the Atrium,” he whispers nervously. “We should be fine with the door closed, but keep your voices down. Just to be safe.”

Manner nods, and I…well, being loud is something I don’t exactly have to worry about anymore, now do I? Thanks to some stupid fucking radroach in some stupid fucking corner of this stupid fuckin—

“Why didn’t we hear it coming?” Manner asks.

“Dunno. Maybe it was far enough away that we didn’t hear it screaming?”

“Mmm. That’s a scary thought.”

“Indeed. Ah—Manner, what crazed experiment are you performing on poor Rivet?”

“It’s not--!” she starts, before stopping herself and lowering her voice. “It’s not a crazed experiment, it’s a medical procedure!”

“Isn’t that the same thing to you?” he asks, his sarcastic smirk countering the lack of emotion in his voice.

She’s about to say something, presumably defending her honor, before noticing the sarcastic grin plastered all over his face. Sulking, she goes back to her work and mutters something about bad humor.

She’s rewarded for her mutterings with a nuzzle to the neck and a little, “Love you too.” From what I can see, it placates her. Some.

After a few seconds of moving to sit diligently in the corner, fiddling with his Magic Pistol, he looks back up and asks, “What are you doing, though?”

Having finished attaching the electrodes, she brings the attached device up in front of her and fiddles with the knobs a bit. “Checking to make sure her muscles are still working.”

“Oh. Okay.”

After a couple seconds of silence, she finally says, “Okay. And three…two…one.”

I brace myself as much as equinely possible, and right on the beat, I feel a sudden electric shock run through my foreleg. Said leg jumps straight up into the air barely a split-second later, without ever have consulted my brain in the process.

She lets up on the trigger of the little device, and my foreleg drops back down to hang limply.

“Okaaayyyyyy,” she mutters to herself.

“Now, the real question here is how to make her dance with those.”

“Sweetie, that’s not helping.”

“Alright. Just sayin’.”

Again with the whole talking-about-me-like-I’m-not-here thing.

Manner’s busy going over theories and ideas in her head, making that little scrunch-face she always gets when she’s thinking really hard. Haywire, presumably bored, noses open one of the cupboards below the array of horrifying-death-and-dismemberment implements otherwise known as medical tools.

“Oh, hey! Awesome!” Manner and I both glance over to Haywire, who’s backing out of the cupboard with two healing potions, a roll of bandages, a few chems, and a stupid grin on his face. “Found you a little present!”

“Oh, that’s great! Thanks, sweetie!” She pulls them out of his hooves with her white magic, cataloguing each before slipping them into her saddlebags. By my count, there were two healing potions, one roll of regular bandages, two syringes of Med-X, and one syringe of Hydra.

“Anytime,” he grins back. Whereupon he’s rewarded for his efforts with a full-on-the lips smooch. I can see him blushing and glancing nervously over at me, right before I roll my eyes at those two. I do quickly decide to shut my eyes entirely, though. Both to give them privacy and to avoid dealing with the mental image of Manner snogging a buck. Even if I’ve already seen them doing worse.

…dammit! That’s the mental image I was trying to avoid!

“So what’s the plan?” Oh, they’re done with their little affair now. Wonderful.

“Not quite sure on the specifics, but they’re talking about getting down to the third floor and reactivating the generator.”

I try to say something about how Stables use Spark Reactors and not Generators, but my mouth isn’t exactly cooperating. Dammit.

Just as he says that, the door fwooshes open to let Platinum Blade squeeze into the already-crowded room. Once the door is closed behind him, he asks, “You tell her the plan?”

“What I know about it. Which is just the general stuff.”

“Alright…” He glances over at me, grimacing slightly. “Will she recover anytime soon?”

“Don’t think so,” Manner says, putting on her lecturing tone as she unstraps my armor and battlesaddle. I have to admit, having that gone makes laying on my side a lot nicer. “I managed to work out that the venom is some kind of neurotoxin, which narrows down what it could be quite a bit. If I’m going to make an antivenom, though, I need to know precisely what this stuff is.”

The room is silent for a brief moment as everypony processes that, while Manner pulls out the venom gland she’d collected earlier. As if demanding it to surrender its secrets, she stares at it harshly before idly muttering, “I’m gonna need more of these.”

“More of whats?”

“These!” She practically shoves the venom gland into their faces, causing them to recoil more than a little. It’s okay, bucks. I would too, if I could move. “If I’m going to isolate the toxin and analyze it, I’m going to need more of these!”

“How many more?”

“As many as I can get my hooves on.” She slips the teardrop-shaped organ back into her saddlebag, and I can almost see everypony in the room breathe a sigh of relief.

“So…new object’ve: kill some roaches?” Ace offers through the swiftly-opening door. “That’s a goal Ah can git behind.”

“Agreed. But we also need to focus on re-booting the power, first and foremost. So we’ll say this: everypony but Rivet moves to the third floor. We look for the generator room, fire it up when we get there, and run back here before anything nasty notices us. If we find any Radroaches along the way, we avoid shooting the head, grab the venom gland, and move on. Any questions?”

“We’re leaving Silver behind?”

“We have to.”

“But…shouldn’t we leave someone behind to protect her?”

“Who? We can’t exactly spare anypony, Manner. Me? We need the firepower in case of alicorn attack. Ace? We’ll be screwed in close quarters. Longview? He has both maps and some serious firepower, and both are vital. Haywire? We’d have to turn back at the first locked door. You? If we get hurt, we’re done for.”

Manner just sulks, the overwhelming logic silencing any counter-argument she clearly wants to make.

Oh goddesses, they're actually considering this, weren’t they?

But…rrrrg! I can’t even tell myself it’s a bad idea is the worst part. On one hand, Blade’s right that it’s our best chance for getting out of this Stable alive.

Still, though…I’ll be all alone up here! Totally helpless!

In the end, my desire to see daylight again trumps out over the terror.

Manner glances over to me, still clearly expressing doubts, and I do my best to offer a small nod. It’s enough to settle her internal debate, and she says, “At least let me make Silver a little more comfortable.”

“Of course.”

Manner nods and leaves to go get something. Probably the terminal.

“So if the Atrium’s blocked, how are we getting down to maintenance?”

“Through this big room off to one side. Longview thinks it’s the orchard.”

“Stables can ‘ave orchards?”

“Mmmhm. Not often, though. Usually it’s just a small one to take the edge off the food stores and stave off Scurvy.”

“Huh…”

“Ugh…sweet Celestia…” Manner groans as she walks back in, lugging the terminal on her back. She doesn’t seem to approve of the things’ absurd weight. “…The hell are these things made of, rocks!?”

“Nah. Just a ridiculously thick metal shell,” Haywire snarks, taking the terminal from her back onto his. She all but collapses in relief.

“How is that thin’ even runnin’ still? I thought teh power was out?”

“Well…Silver told me once that they don’t even plug in. They have their own Spark Reactor inside that feeds into a battery, which runs the whole thing. Apparently, it keeps them from getting power surges or…um…something.” I could easily finish that monologue, but I do it mentally instead.

Haywire sets the terminal next to me forelegs, then gently turns me so that I’m looking downwards at it. He’s thoroughly confused at my arcanotech cable, and has to try a few times, but he catches on quicker than I thought he would and gets everything hooked up properly.

Ace, on the other hoof, is thinking about something. “Could Ah rig that up intah some kinda bomb?” he finally asks.

Haywire nods. “I’ve heard of some people who rig frag grenades into terminals and set it all to explode when you hit the keyboard. You’d need to completely gut the terminal to build that, though.”

“No, Ah mean that same kinda thing, but with teh Spark Reactor.”

“That…you could do that. It’d be pretty tough to build, but…ugh…that’s a really scary train of thought.”

Blade nods. “I’d rather not turn on a terminal to find out it’s actually a Balefire Egg.”

I’m practically screaming in my attempt to politely correct them, explaining that you could never wire that kind of trap to the keyboard, and that you could only ever set it up on a timer or some other means of discharging the capacitor…not to mention you’d need a massive capacitor to overload the reactor…

Sadly, my mouth remains immobile.

Stupid radroaches.

“Okay…” Haywire mutters, officially done setting me up. “You comfy?”

I give him a look that just screams, “Can’t move, remember?”

“Oh. Right. Um…blink once for no, twice for yes.”

Two blinks.

“Alright. Well, we’re gonna be heading out. You gonna be okay?”

I…nnnng…ugh. Fine. Honestly, we’ll probably get out of here quicker without me holding them down.

Two blinks.

“Okay.”

Manner leans down to plant a little kiss on my forehead. “Stay safe, Silver.”

Like I have a choice.

They turn and leave, moving as quietly as they can once the door opens.

Then it slides shut, closing me inside.

And the panic sets in almost instantly.

But…rrrrrg! I just…I just need to trust that they can do their job. Believe in all the random arcanotech trivia I’ve thrown in Haywire’s direction over the years.

……we’re all gonna die.

Nnnnng! No! Have faith, Silver! And just…read some logs or something.

Click. Click.

[Personal log 2: 2/5/2098

Had another cave-in today. Killed one, critically injured three. Barely managed to get those three stable in time.

Unbelievable. What the hell is Fog Bank even looking for down there? What’s so important that we’d have to dig to the bottom of this damn cavern for it?

Well, at least we’re getting some good living space. Honestly, though, sometimes I wonder what goes on in that rotten little head of his.

…in any case, I’ve requisitioned some emergency supplies and put them in the exam room. Should help in the future. They’re in the false back to the top shelf, just to make sure some hooligan doesn’t find them and sell them.

Crap, one of the miners just woke up. Screaming about giant winged unicorns. Gotta go.

~Dr. Stethoscope, MD.]

Well, it’s nice to know about the emergency supplies we already found.

Click.

[Personal log 3: 6/6/2099

Well, things have gotten really slow in the past month or two. No more miners getting hit by cave-ins, no more people falling off the catwalks. My job has been reduced to a glorified nose-wiper.

…not that I’m complaining. After all, if my job gets hectic, it means things have gone straight to hell, so it’s nice to know that’s not happening anymore. It’s especially nice that Fog Bank has finally gotten his underground Laboratory Level. It only took fifteen broken legs, three broken ribs, and eighty six major bruises and cuts. Still won’t tell us what he was after down there.

Prick…

The worst part is, I can’t even blame him. Some things, ponykind is better off not knowing. And I’m sure plenty of ponies will agree. I’m just saying, if there’s some Stable-tec secret weapon he designed buried right under our hooves, then I’d like to know before he goes sticking his undead hooves into its inner workings.]

Hang on…

Undead hooves?!

He designed!?

Stable-tec secret weapon!?!

Was…was Fog Bank a ghoul?

But I thought that didn’t happen in Stables! They’re designed for it not to! And why would Stable-tec be making weapons when they were supposed to be making weapon shelters!?

Ugh…none of this is making any sense.

That’s when I remember the hasty intrusion into the Stable door’s outer terminal.

And it all clicks into place.

A Stable-tec employee who knows about Stable 16 is nearby when the bombs fall. He runs across the nuclear wasteland, slowly dying, before hacking his way into the terminal and crawling inside. He later dies, becomes a ghoul, and the Stable survives because of the auto-closing door thing. Then they take him in, and he does…

…something.

It’s not the whole picture. But it’s a piece of it.

And I have a sudden, urgent desire to check out Fog Bank’s terminal. Maybe find out just what he was looking for.

And maybe…just maybe…if it’s a superweapon of some kind, we could use it to blast our way out of here.

Stupid plan? Absolutely.

Worth it? Totally.

…except I can’t exactly do anything about it, or even tell the others to do anything about it, because some stupid fucking radroach had stupid fucking venom that left me fucking—

A brief rattling noise from under the bed is enough to make me squeak and flail. Well…try and flail. It doesn’t work, but it’s the thought that counts.

I stay perfectly quiet, keeping an ear peeled for whatever it might’ve been.

One minute…

Two minutes…

Nothing.

Since there are apparently no more logs to read, I decide to pick apart the inner workings of the terminal out of sheer boredom. Illusion Talisman here. Spark Reactor here. Spark battery there. Processing cores here, here, here, and here. Pip-buck port he—

I’m immediately distracted by a rattling noise coming from right under the bed.

Okay, I definitely heard that. What was it!? Some kind of evil demon creature that’s going to crawl out and—

No! No. Calm down, Silver. Panicking gets you nowhere.

With a loud CLUNK!, the lights in the room flicker and die.

O-okay…that’s fine. That’s perfectly normal. It just means that they managed to re-connect the Reactor to the Battery Bank, and the Power Distribution Circuit is re-booting. There is absolutely nothing scary about being paralyzed in pitch darkness. Nope, not at all.

From somewhere deep in the bowels of the Stable comes one of those unholy screams. The kind that sound like they’re coming from inside my head.

Okay…it’s okay, Silver. The power switch must have freaked out an alicorn or two. Nothing to be worried about.

Crack! Crack-crack!

Those are definitely gunshots. From Blade.

Perfectly normal. Not indicative of any unpleasant situations at all.

…

Oh dear Goddesses save me now!

The lights blessedly return a few seconds later, but...well, considering what happened next, I almost wish they hadn't.

Ka-chunk! The noise makes me try my hardest to scream and flail and fire off ten million shots with my shotgun, but I'm unfortunately left helpless, wondering just what that noise was that was way too close for comfort. It sounded metallic, so maybe--

Click. Click-click-click.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no way in HELL!

Those are radroach legs.

Those are Radroach noises! Those are definitely radroach noises!

No! Shoo! Go away!

My panic only spikes through the roof as I see the tips of its antennae appear over the bed, followed by its little shell-encased head.

No! No no no no! Just go away! I'm not here, and I'm definitely not helpless right now!

It starts crawling over the edge of the bed, slowly and carefully analyzing me, and probably coming to the realization that I'm 100% paralyzed.

But hey, at least I can still hyperventilate. That's a thing. Good to know.

It keeps trying to figure out whether or not it should presumably devour me alive, while I'm begging Manner to return. Because this is so far from okay that it might as well be on another planet. I haven't heard gunshots in a while, so I'm hopeful, but...GAAAH!

Then the radroach starts crawling forward. On top of me.

Not okay not okay not okay.......

Just...think about getting out of here! You can get out of here! You will get out of here! This is just a minor inconvenience!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck go away go away go away go away.......

To my absolute horror, it doesn't go away.

Instead, a long and painful-looking stinger emerges from its underbelly.

Forget another planet, this is in a whole separate dimension from okay.

Just think about getting out. Think about sunlight.

Think about sunlight.

I clench my eyes shut and prepare for the worst.

Just as three things happen in rapid succession.

First, I felt a sharp pain in my side. That fucking stinger. I officially hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it so fucking much I can't stand this Goddesses-damned Stable.

The door fwooshes open, revealing a panicked and panting Bedside Manner, holding her not-new revolver in her magic and trying to gasp out the words, “Are you okay?” Before she actually processed the situation and realized just how far from okay things were for me.

She panicked for a brief moment as the radroach hissed and leaped for her. Then she caught it in her magic, planted her gun against its head, and growled, “Nopony makes Silver cry.”

BANG!

No level-up.

Fallout Equestria: Undermountain #16

by Blackjack488

Prologue

Chapter 1: Grand Entrance

Chapter 2: The Highest Priority