Fallout Equestria: Ebon King of the North

[Asmodemus]

Ternox ensured he was unseen after trotting around the building, settling into a sit, tarp held up around him as a barrier to shift over him if needed. Once settled he lifted the tin can of his 'rock collection' up and pulled the lid off telekinetically. Various gems were there, some bright and rare seeming, real pieces he had picked up here and there to serve as distractions from the true prizes and as potential barter goods as had come in handy a few times. The doctor mask slipped off as one crystal in particular from a collection of similar rose up, a more eye catching one, dark pink and glittering even in the overcast sunlight, it dazzled the eye. Crystalized love, this one being specifically deep romantic love between those in the most passionate and desiring stage. Gathered and separated carefully, every bit stored together by care and precision like bees stored the precious honey their hive needed to survive.

While his face was unchanged as the crystal approached his maw the inside became no longer pony but a toothy maw that sucked and inhaled on a deeper level, pressures of magic draining the crystal, it's perfect dark pink color fading as it's glittering became less so, the very structure thinning as a line of pink exuded from it into that hungering inpony mouth.

The satiation for Ternox was grand, the loving warmth passing down his throat straight into his belly where the emotional fuel poured into the internal engines of his body, love processed into magical power channeled across his body, starved connections given proper sustenance once more. Strength filling him, though one good meal was not enough to counteract the years of lack and malnutrition fully, it was enough for what served as his muscles was there to be properly fueled and ready to function, endure and heal as bodies did.

Some might expect with his sensing ability he'd be in a loving mood but that wasn't the case. While sensing the emotions (as changelings had learnt to lean more into over the years without the hive) had him have a sensation of it, raw devouring never had that effect, the process held separate, a fact that helped avoid embarrassing incidents like becoming far more romantic to the first pony they saw after a good meal. It was likely why the Hive could keep being so cruel to the other races around them, never leaning into their empathic sense for more than strictly necessary and focusing on kidnapping and devouring.

So he was feeling well satiated, satisfied, filled with energy and strength as the last of the pink was consumed from the crystal and it's empty form began to quietly break apart into dissolving pieces, the crystalized mucus making up it's structure only having the strength to remain bonded while love energy was trapped inside of it. A nice side effect as 'I lost it' was easier to explain than 'it just changed color' on the matter of the crystal structure.

Sawbone Sid was feeling peppier, on top of the world after he had trotted back from his pick-me-up, hanging by the kirin pack for their warming properties, getting into light conversation with some of them while those involved with the machine did their work, his head not being for mechanics unless it was medical related, he had no real reason to go down the hole instead of discuss with the locals, check his patients, share wasteland survival tips and be somepony to appreciate.

 

[The Fourth Monado]

@Dalek Ix, @triumph8w
A search of the crates turned up mostly spare parts and armor plates, but there was one with high caliber bullets as long as Morning's hoof was. A comparison suggested they were for the vulcan. A short search found where they were supposed to be loaded into.

No conspicuous spherical megaspells laying around though.

Dawn's tribe was evacuated out of the hidden launch room, one by one up a rope, whilst Golden was lowered down once Buddy had been repaired. Cursory inspection showed that the Twilight was in need of some part replacements due to age, but was generally intact. It mostly just needed power- a lot of it -to start running at something resembling normal.

Unfortunately, the spark battery from the bay doors wasn't going to cut it this time. According to Starlight's memory orb dedicated to the power systems, the reactor ran on magic and needed to be refueled with an appropriately large amount of the raw stuff or infused gems. It recycled its own power through some extremely high level technical thaumic processes, the explanation of which went entirely over Golden's head, but the result meant that once the Paladin hit a critical mass of energy, it could sustain itself for longer than if it was just using a battery.

In its current power saving mode, it could amble along for a few days. If it went to full power, it would completely drain its remaining reserves in under an hour.

Click to shrink...

@Dalek Ix @The Fourth Monado @anyone else who wants to be close enough to hear.

Getting carried by Morning Mist was as awkward as the first time.

Sure, the rest of that Pegasus power armor was amazingly flexible and all in all a feat of engineering that Golden Gears was constantly taking mental notes of, but those armored hooves were most certainly not as yielding as one might be led to believe. Cold, too.

Still, she couldn't deny that it was a good idea that she came back down into the underground research site. It looked a little more eerie now that the Kirin had shuffled out. Even with the Paladin active, there was a stillness to the whole area that had her ears perked up. It didn't help that it very much felt like they were on a timetable.

Still, at least she got Buddy working. That was something.

That time looking over the memory orbs had been well spent, as she did her own check up on Paladin-003's systems. For a cutting edge, expensive piece of equipment that was over two hundred years old and had seen absolutely zero maintenance it was…well, in surprisingly good condition. The perks of spending centuries entombed, perhaps. Like pretty much anything in workable condition these days, it needed a lot of replacement parts. But unlike, say, a toaster or a protect-buck the Paladin may be a tad harder to patch up again.

Still, she liked to think she was decent at what she did. She could probably work something out.

The reactor was something different.

Golden Gears was used to working on generators. It wasn't exactly her sole duty—she was more of a generalist, helping around all over the Tower, even working on some of their outposts. She was used to some of the high end stuff that the Ministry of Wartime Technology had cooked up. What she was not used to, was whatever in the Two Sisters name these insane ponies cobbled together for the Paladin.

Golden Gears had stood for a solid minute in front of the Twilight, eyes squinted at the machine, right hoof tapping on the floor, tongue stuck slightly out as she tried to put it together in her mind. The feeling of time slipping through her hooves quite helpfully encouraged her to simply blurt out what she could figure out.

"Okay! Um, I'm sorry a lot of this stuff has just gone right over my head. I've got the basics of most of the Paladin down, but the reactor is just beyond me." Golden said to Dawn. Or, well, she was hopeful she was. She had just tilted her head up to speak loudly at the Paladins chest and face. Despite, or maybe because, its massive size it was a little difficult to just look in a single place, never mind try to hold a conversation.

"So! Replacement parts are needed, like, everywhere. But that doesn't mean its inoperable. I can do some quick fixes in the future, but if you want a full refurbishing we'll have to find a lot of resources to do that. Tartarus, we may just need a whole steel factory. Um, but that's just to get it at one hundred percent! It can still be operated just fine."

The amount of resources and effort demanded by these things still boggled her mind. A factory alone probably wouldn't even cut it. It'd need a whole team that knew what they were doing–

Future problems. Right.

"With the reactor, ah, good news! I'm pretty sure we can get it running, and keep it that way, by ourselves. The whole thing runs on magic. Either just the plain raw stuff, or infused gemstones. I don't really know if you have to go through some complex ritual or just, like, point your horn at it. Not really much I can do there."

She waved a hoof over her forehead, distinctly not running into any horn. Gods, it wasn't often she got jealous of a Unicorn, but right now…

"They didn't skimp out on the reactor either! It can recycle its own energy, you get it to a critical point and the Paladin can probably run for a good while without needing any refueling. The bad news is, well, there's not a whole lot of power left. There's enough to get it limping along for a few days, or to spend it all in an hour at full power. To even access a third of its systems would require a lot of power. Like, a mind boggling amount. So, uh…"

Golden Gears trailed off with an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of her head.

"Yeah..."

Click to shrink...

"Right, so we're gonna need magic gems..." The machine - or, rather, the pilot through the speakers - replied, tone... considering. "That should be doable. We'd just need enough gems, and I know some Kirin who'd be able to help set it up. A few day's worth of walking power should be enough to get the Twilight to a good point to refuel it, I think."

Yeah. Last time he'd checked the map, Dawn had confirmed that the meetup site was about three days on hoof, before everything had really started. He didn't know how fast the Twilight would be able to make it, but... well, first he had to get it out.

"Can you climb out and tell everyone to clear the area? I'm going to start extracting the suit now."

Once Golden had gotten out, Dawn waited a minute or two to give everyone else time to get away. Then, on both shoulders, a pair of gunports opened up as barrels protruded out with a click. Carefully, Dawn designated each point in the roof across from the Twilight he had to shoot...

And then the Vulcans spoke. Bullets tore through the dirt and the concrete in short, staccado bursts, and each shot caused cracks to open up in the roof, weakening the structural integrity until it began to collapse, revealing the sky above. Soon enough, an earthen ramp was covering the original entrance, having buried the area Dawn had originally fallen into.

And so, with long, ponderous steps, the Twilight stepped out into the rain for the first time in two hundred years.

 

[Dalek Ix]

[THE OFFICER]

A search of the crates turned up mostly spare parts and armor plates, but there was one with high caliber bullets as long as Morning's hoof was. A comparison suggested they were for the vulcan. A short search found where they were supposed to be loaded into.

No conspicuous spherical megaspells laying around though.

Dawn's tribe was evacuated out of the hidden launch room, one by one up a rope, whilst Golden was lowered down once Buddy had been repaired. Cursory inspection showed that the Twilight was in need of some part replacements due to age, but was generally intact. It mostly just needed power- a lot of it -to start running at something resembling normal.

Unfortunately, the spark battery from the bay doors wasn't going to cut it this time. According to Starlight's memory orb dedicated to the power systems, the reactor ran on magic and needed to be refueled with an appropriately large amount of the raw stuff or infused gems. It recycled its own power through some extremely high level technical thaumic processes, the explanation of which went entirely over Golden's head, but the result meant that once the Paladin hit a critical mass of energy, it could sustain itself for longer than if it was just using a battery.

In its current power saving mode, it could amble along for a few days. If it went to full power, it would completely drain its remaining reserves in under an hour.

Click to shrink...

Things proceed apace. Dawn's tribe is no Reclamation Team, but living down here has given them a sense on what to look for when salvaging. Even then, I can't help but... pace. Flying back and forth between the underground and the surface; sometimes to airlift certain items, sometimes so move ponies --Bush Fire enjoys the ride a bit too much and must be kept away from the rope ladder when it's clear he wants to go down so I have to carry him up again-- sometimes to catch new developments... but mostly because I desperately want for us to be moving.

Towards the others. Towards the featherless mutant bastards. And away from this compromised position. Had OPFOR been what I'd trained against, we would've gotten a visit from a Vertibuck and an escorting squad five minutes ago; I can only thank whatever ancestors watch over me that our enemies are forced to drag themselves through the mud.

On the other wing, so will we.

@Dalek Ix @The Fourth Monado @anyone else who wants to be close enough to hear.

Getting carried by Morning Mist was as awkward as the first time.

Sure, the rest of that Pegasus power armor was amazingly flexible and all in all a feat of engineering that Golden Gears was constantly taking mental notes of, but those armored hooves were most certainly not as yielding as one might be led to believe. Cold, too.

Still, she couldn't deny that it was a good idea that she came back down into the underground research site. It looked a little more eerie now that the Kirin had shuffled out. Even with the Paladin active, there was a stillness to the whole area that had her ears perked up. It didn't help that it very much felt like they were on a timetable.

Still, at least she got Buddy working. That was something.

That time looking over the memory orbs had been well spent, as she did her own check up on Paladin-003's systems. For a cutting edge, expensive piece of equipment that was over two hundred years old and had seen absolutely zero maintenance it was…well, in surprisingly good condition. The perks of spending centuries entombed, perhaps. Like pretty much anything in workable condition these days, it needed a lot of replacement parts. But unlike, say, a toaster or a protect-buck the Paladin may be a tad harder to patch up again.

Still, she liked to think she was decent at what she did. She could probably work something out.

The reactor was something different.

Golden Gears was used to working on generators. It wasn't exactly her sole duty—she was more of a generalist, helping around all over the Tower, even working on some of their outposts. She was used to some of the high end stuff that the Ministry of Wartime Technology had cooked up. What she was not used to, was whatever in the Two Sisters name these insane ponies cobbled together for the Paladin.

Golden Gears had stood for a solid minute in front of the Twilight, eyes squinted at the machine, right hoof tapping on the floor, tongue stuck slightly out as she tried to put it together in her mind. The feeling of time slipping through her hooves quite helpfully encouraged her to simply blurt out what she could figure out.

"Okay! Um, I'm sorry a lot of this stuff has just gone right over my head. I've got the basics of most of the Paladin down, but the reactor is just beyond me." Golden said to Dawn. Or, well, she was hopeful she was. She had just tilted her head up to speak loudly at the Paladins chest and face. Despite, or maybe because, its massive size it was a little difficult to just look in a single place, never mind try to hold a conversation.

"So! Replacement parts are needed, like, everywhere. But that doesn't mean its inoperable. I can do some quick fixes in the future, but if you want a full refurbishing we'll have to find a lot of resources to do that. Tartarus, we may just need a whole steel factory. Um, but that's just to get it at one hundred percent! It can still be operated just fine."

The amount of resources and effort demanded by these things still boggled her mind. A factory alone probably wouldn't even cut it. It'd need a whole team that knew what they were doing–

Future problems. Right.

"With the reactor, ah, good news! I'm pretty sure we can get it running, and keep it that way, by ourselves. The whole thing runs on magic. Either just the plain raw stuff, or infused gemstones. I don't really know if you have to go through some complex ritual or just, like, point your horn at it. Not really much I can do there."

She waved a hoof over her forehead, distinctly not running into any horn. Gods, it wasn't often she got jealous of a Unicorn, but right now…

"They didn't skimp out on the reactor either! It can recycle its own energy, you get it to a critical point and the Paladin can probably run for a good while without needing any refueling. The bad news is, well, there's not a whole lot of power left. There's enough to get it limping along for a few days, or to spend it all in an hour at full power. To even access a third of its systems would require a lot of power. Like, a mind boggling amount. So, uh…"

Golden Gears trailed off with an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of her head.

"Yeah..."

Click to shrink...

Good news, the Paladin worked. Bad news, it needed a complete overhaul. Good news, the Paladin had enough energy to move. Bad news, it didn't have enough to do much else.

The reactor presented another problem.

"I was going to suggest using the powerplant of a Vertibuck to jumpstart the reactor, but looks like that won't work," I grumble to myself. "Unicorns..."

I shrug. "It is what it is," I sigh, "Still... a mostly mobile turret isn't anything to scoff at, considering the calibre of those shells I found."

"Right, so we're gonna need magic gems..." The machine - or, rather, the pilot through the speakers - replied, tone... considering. "That should be doable. We'd just need enough gems, and I know some Kirin who'd be able to help set it up. A few day's worth of walking power should be enough to get the Twilight to a good point to refuel it, I think."

Yeah. Last time he'd checked the map, Dawn had confirmed that the meetup site was about three days on hoof, before everything had really started. He didn't know how fast the Twilight would be able to make it, but... well, first he had to get it out.

"Can you climb out and tell everyone to clear the area? I'm going to start extracting the suit now."

Once Golden had gotten out, Dawn waited a minute or two to give everyone else time to get away. Then, on both shoulders, a pair of gunports opened up as barrels protruded out with a click. Carefully, Dawn designated each point in the roof across from the Twilight he had to shoot...

And then the Vulcans spoke. Bullets tore through the dirt and the concrete in short, staccado bursts, and each shot caused cracks to open up in the roof, weakening the structural integrity until it began to collapse, revealing the sky above. Soon enough, an earthen ramp was covering the original entrance, having buried the area Dawn had originally fallen into.

And so, with long, ponderous steps, the Twilight stepped out into the rain for the first time in two hundred years.

Click to shrink...

Since I'm down here, I offer to fly Golden up and out of the hole. It only takes a little bit of shouting to get everypony away --even the walking corpse-- although I'm wondering how on Tartarus Dawn intends to-


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NvIJvPj_pjE

And then the answer reveals itself as being: controlled demolition via autocannon.

YOU MUD-CRAWLING WASTELAND MUTANT, DID RADIATION MELT YOUR BUCKING BRAIN OR WERE YOU BORN LIKE THIS!!??

Feeling my eyelids twitch behind my helmet, I open a radio link to the Twilight.

«Morning to Dawn,» I start, my voice frosty through the radio, «A word of advice. While using a couple of miniguns chambered for autocannon rounds as demolition tools is quite ingenious... Maybe the next time you decide to do this. You give a little warning about what, exactly you intend to do, before you do it. Hm?»

 

[Sablonus]

Sawbone Sid was feeling peppier, on top of the world after he had trotted back from his pick-me-up, hanging by the kirin pack for their warming properties, getting into light conversation with some of them while those involved with the machine did their work, his head not being for mechanics unless it was medical related, he had no real reason to go down the hole instead of discuss with the locals, check his patients, share wasteland survival tips and be somepony to appreciate.

Click to shrink...

The ghoul had made it back above ground at some point, mindlessly ranting to the Kirin about the Striped Menace with Buddy's help. "Never know when they'll strike next- Just you wait! They're biding their time like the potion popping bottomfeeders they are- Waiting for Equestria to get nice and comfortable again, then wham-! They'll be on our flanks faster than a changeling in a chapel!" He spits, "Superstitious savages will be trying to exchange their mud huts for our great cities..!" Sid's cheery, helpful attitude grated, though Briar did his best to shelve his paranoia.

Since I'm down here, I offer to fly Golden up and out of the hole. It only takes a little bit of shouting to get everypony away --even the walking corpse--

Click to shrink...

Something about her exit draws what feels like a smirk from the bony pony, but he allows himself to be herded with the others easily enough.

And then the Vulcans spoke. Bullets tore through the dirt and the concrete in short, staccado bursts, and each shot caused cracks to open up in the roof, weakening the structural integrity until it began to collapse, revealing the sky above. Soon enough, an earthen ramp was covering the original entrance, having buried the area Dawn had originally fallen into.

And so, with long, ponderous steps, the Twilight stepped out into the rain for the first time in two hundred years.

Click to shrink...

"ZEBRAS!" Hoof on his blade and flank to the foals, cataracts twitch across the horizon in search of the enemy as the gunfire slows. It takes a moment for the situation to set in, whereupon he makes to scowl in agreement with the pegasus- But when the weapons platform climbed from its grave into the wastes above.. Well, any true Equestrian patriot would be moved by the sight. He could swear he could feel its horn burn with the Princess' and Ministries' own authority.

He recalls brighter days, marching with earth ponies under the shadow of cloudships. Broadcasts, advertisements, visions of the future that could be- Instead of the future that was. But his gaze dims, "Mutie, you in there? Let me ride in back, these hooves were just manicured!" And the memory passes.

 

[Asmodemus]

Ternox/Sawbone Sid

It was an awe-inspiring sight, seeing the machine walk out into the overcast day. A machine of power, a great resource, a great weapon (with some work) and a threat upon those who bore it from those wanting it.

With there being little point in subtlety with them traveling alongside that, Ternox adjusted his leg-clipped radio and began looking for an appropriate tune for the journey ahead of them. Intending to walk, chat and point out anything useful or signs of danger along the way, their knowledge of scavenging and wasteland survival hoping to impress.

If anypony told him about the need for magic-infused crystals, he'd ask about checking the mine nearby for any remaining before they left.

 

[Cyreni]

@The Fourth Monado, @Dalek Ix, @Asmodemus, @triumph8w, @Sablonus
The warehouse groaned as the Twilight dug itself up out of the hole it had made. Years of weathering and exposure to the harsh elements, capped off with a firefight and a violent spray near its foundations, meant that it was finally time for it to collapse. The front of the building sagged, lurched forward drunkenly, then snapped and bent and crashed. The roof slid askew, then the whole thing was taken with it like a house of cards. Some of the sheet metal walls and rotted beams fell into the now-ruined and no-longer-secret launch bay. Everything made a loud crashing noise as it all came to a rest.

No reason to stay here any longer. Everyone looked northward. Dawn's tribe walked. Morning flew and pushed the unconscious Ocean's cloud. The Twilight followed behind everyone with steps that seemed comically ponderous on such a large machine.

Nighttime was a terrible time to travel under most circumstances, but at least the rain had stopped and the Twilight could provide spotlights.

A brief look around the pit mine was considered, but the easy pickings were mostly gone by now, and the bright blue water line had gone up significantly since the deluge. Perhaps there were more things underwater, but just as likely the runoff had irrecoverably corroded those things by now.

The group followed the tracks, and the tracks followed the Unicorn Range mountains. It'd lead all the way up to the Crystal Mountains, and then beyond that, the frozen north. A single triangular junction was encountered, one rail splitting off west through a passage between the Range mountains and the other continuing north. Golden knew west was where Vanhoover was. She'd followed this track to get out.

The perpetual blizzard keeping Vanhoover locked away was mostly contained behind the mountains. A cold wind and stray, icy flakes whizzing by gave all the grounded people a good idea of what was there, and Morning could simply fly up to see the dark, storming haze herself, boiling at the edges of the normal cloud cover wherever the mountains didn't peak into sunlight. That path was a deathtrap.

It was deep into the night before the group came across anything new, amidst yawns and tired foals. Unicorn Ridge was still to their left, but beginning to level off in favor of sparse, dead woodland up further ahead. The very dead forest to their right was also thinning out the further north they traveled, and beyond the forest to the east would be Galloping Gorge Crater, as Starlight had described it. The Crystal Mountains loomed in the distance, shrouded in darkness. The radio picked up a distress call, garbled through bursts of broken static from poor reception. Morning recognized the mare's voice immediately as Eagle Eyes'.

<<...near the crystal peaks -zzztt- down by an unknown atta-zt-er, requesting im-zzt- assistance! We've sustained -zzt-y casualties! Oh, goddess, what are those mutant-zzzzt-!?>>

Plasma fire. A loud crunch of something shattering glass and a pained cry. An extended line of static. Repeat.

<<Mayday mayday -zzzt-day! This is Pe-zzzzt- ne! We've been sh-zzt- down near the crystal peaks...>>

 

[triumph8w]

@The Fourth Monado, @Dalek Ix, @Asmodemus, @triumph8w, @Sablonus
The warehouse groaned as the Twilight dug itself up out of the hole it had made. Years of weathering and exposure to the harsh elements, capped off with a firefight and a violent spray near its foundations, meant that it was finally time for it to collapse. The front of the building sagged, lurched forward drunkenly, then snapped and bent and crashed. The roof slid askew, then the whole thing was taken with it like a house of cards. Some of the sheet metal walls and rotted beams fell into the now-ruined and no-longer-secret launch bay. Everything made a loud crashing noise as it all came to a rest.

No reason to stay here any longer. Everyone looked northward. Dawn's tribe walked. Morning flew and pushed the unconscious Ocean's cloud. The Twilight followed behind everyone with steps that seemed comically ponderous on such a large machine.

Nighttime was a terrible time to travel under most circumstances, but at least the rain had stopped and the Twilight could provide spotlights.

A brief look around the pit mine was considered, but the easy pickings were mostly gone by now, and the bright blue water line had gone up significantly since the deluge. Perhaps there were more things underwater, but just as likely the runoff had irrecoverably corroded those things by now.

The group followed the tracks, and the tracks followed the Unicorn Range mountains. It'd lead all the way up to the Crystal Mountains, and then beyond that, the frozen north. A single triangular junction was encountered, one rail splitting off west through a passage between the Range mountains and the other continuing north. Golden knew west was where Vanhoover was. She'd followed this track to get out.

The perpetual blizzard keeping Vanhoover locked away was mostly contained behind the mountains. A cold wind and stray, icy flakes whizzing by gave all the grounded people a good idea of what was there, and Morning could simply fly up to see the dark, storming haze herself, boiling at the edges of the normal cloud cover wherever the mountains didn't peak into sunlight. That path was a deathtrap.

It was deep into the night before the group came across anything new, amidst yawns and tired foals. Unicorn Ridge was still to their left, but beginning to level off in favor of sparse, dead woodland up further ahead. The very dead forest to their right was also thinning out the further north they traveled, and beyond the forest to the east would be Galloping Gorge Crater, as Starlight had described it. The Crystal Mountains loomed in the distance, shrouded in darkness. The radio picked up a distress call, garbled through bursts of broken static from poor reception. Morning recognized the mare's voice immediately as Eagle Eyes'.

<<...near the crystal peaks -zzztt- down by an unknown atta-zt-er, requesting im-zzt- assistance! We've sustained -zzt-y casualties! Oh, goddess, what are those mutant-zzzzt-!?>>

Plasma fire. A loud crunch of something shattering glass and a pained cry. An extended line of static. Repeat.

<<Mayday mayday -zzzt-day! This is Pe-zzzzt- ne! We've been sh-zzt- down near the crystal peaks...>>

Click to shrink...

Walking under Paladin-003's 'Twilight' shadow was odd.

Whenever outside the Towers perimeter, of which she had ventured incredibly rarely, it had always been drilled into her: Awareness. Be aware of your surroundings, be aware of your footing, be aware of your comrades, and be aware of yourself. It was, Golden found, something that translated well to the wider wasteland. You never knew what was hiding in the snow, what was pretending to be ice and what actually was, nor what lurked in a bombed out building. Automated defenses, mines, people…monsters. You learned to keep her ears up, your head on a swivel, and your hooves muffled. Walking alongside the Twilight threw all of that to the side. It was slow, striding with long steps that had even longer time in the air. And it was big. A leviathan, engulfed in shadow. That she could only see its rough outline, behind the strobing spotlights, somehow made the machine seem even larger. The only place it could possibly hide in would be a city.

Golden had kept herself occupied with the other machine traveling with her, muttering to Buddy now and again, all the while her ears remained perked and on a swivel. The protect-buck was moving just fine for one of its type, much to her relief. And with the party's pace it kept up easily enough. It felt easier, with Buddy doing its damndest to remain by her shoulder.

Until they got to the junction.

She remembered stumbling up the tracks, what surely, surely must have been millennia ago. Buddy piping out some patriotic slogan behind her. She had reached the junction, sat down and…didn't move. For a good while. She didn't know where to go, quite simply. The maps with all the prospective sites? Lost. All three of them. Taken by the Great Storm, taken by the Greenbacks. A truly stupendous stroke of bad luck. She didn't know where to go, quite simply. And so she didn't move. She didn't move until she realized the flecks of cold she was feeling were still from the Great Storm, even with this much distance between her and it.

So she had picked a direction, started moving and, well.

Here she was.

With the snow touching her face once more.

This was true cold. Just a hint of it. A little sliver of freezing metal, lightly caressing the fur, waiting to drive right in between the bones.

There was a specific quality to its howling wind, back in the bowls of Vanhoover, and the shattered bone scraping its outsides. Not in its fierceness, nor in its sharpness, but in its sound. It could get particularly high pitched, at times. So high that when Radiant had been picked off her hooves and started screaming, Golden hadn't heard. The Unicorn had harmonized with the wind so well that it had taken a second. And that extra second had put her out of Golden's reach.

Golden had heard the sound Radiant made when she collided with that building, though. She was paying attention then.

Golden blinked, then jolted back in surprise. Her eyes stung.

She rubbed at them once, tapped the railtrack leading west, colder than the rest, and without a word, turned her back on Vanhoover.

As they continued on, Golden Gears fell silent. Night was well and truly here. It'd be better if she paid attention to her surroundings instead of trying to order her thoughts by speaking to Buddy. She didn't notice anything, thankfully. If she had to guess, it'd be that any wildlife inclined to take on a party of this size had been scared off by Paladin-003. Easier prey to take on than that, not that they had any way of telling how anemic the titan truly was.

Then again, it was nothing compared to the mountains before them. Golden couldn't get a good look at them, obscured by night and distance as they were, but even now she could get an impression of their size. Mountains. That was the unexpected surprise of the outside world. Well, not the only one. But mutated monsters and less than friendly people, yes she had expected those. Dry land not covered by a speck of snow or ice? Hoped for, pleased to see. Mountains? Not really. She had thought she had seen big, with Vanhoovers decaying skyline—what was visible through the Great Storm, that was. But mountains were something else.

The woods, well, less impressive. But there was a non-zero chance something was in them. Still, they had been walking for a good bit…

"Should we set up camp?" Golden asked, directing the question to the party as a whole. "It is pretty dark."

She couldn't deny she was tired, but that was more from the long day than all that walking. Part of it was refreshing, to simply go and go in a straight line, not run into any barriers.

 

[Asmodemus]

Ternox/Sawbone Sid

No reason to stay here any longer. Everyone looked northward. Dawn's tribe walked. Morning flew and pushed the unconscious Ocean's cloud. The Twilight followed behind everyone with steps that seemed comically ponderous on such a large machine.

Click to shrink...

Ternox had thought he would be more paranoid about having a giant death machine walking behind them. Fortunately, it seemed that thanks to Dawn piloting it, it wasn't as bad as having a large robot around would have been, the protect-buck bad enough when it loomed close.

He kept near the front, paying attention to the terrain for signs of things, alerting if there were issues for the machine behind them or the ponies themselves. The spotlights were a double-edged sword for the ponies he supposed, keeping it light enough for them to travel but it meant there was a higher chance of being spotted from further off, for good or bad. Animals were less likely to attack, but any persons could see them better and decide whether to go for it or evade, possibly to attack more in force later. It helped him too he supposed, changeling night vision was a touch better than pony due to naturally preferring darker typically underground locales, but even they didn't have perfect see in the dark vision, keeping their hives well lit for convenience.

A single triangular junction was encountered, one rail splitting off west through a passage between the Range mountains and the other continuing north. Golden knew west was where Vanhoover was. She'd followed this track to get out.

The perpetual blizzard keeping Vanhoover locked away was mostly contained behind the mountains. A cold wind and stray, icy flakes whizzing by gave all the grounded people a good idea of what was there

Click to shrink...

Golden blinked, then jolted back in surprise. Her eyes stung.

She rubbed at them once, tapped the railtrack leading west, colder than the rest, and without a word, turned her back on Vanhoover.

Click to shrink...

The divergence in the track, the howling wind, remembering Golden's earlier conversing and her emotions now showed the tragedy of her story. Ternox considered comforting her in some way, not (just) for advantage but just because it was a bad situation all around and she seemed a nice if sheltered mare. But he hesitated, thinking their rapport was not quite up there for such a thing, and instead went along with the group, letting her remain in determination and strength, a goal she worked towards.

"Should we set up camp?" Golden asked, directing the question to the party as a whole. "It is pretty dark."

She couldn't deny she was tired, but that was more from the long day than all that walking. Part of it was refreshing, to simply go and go in a straight line, not run into any barriers.

Click to shrink...

"Ah'd advise getting among tha woods on either side a'fore that. Fuel for fire, cover for if we git attacked." Sawbone Sid suggested, the open field wasn't great for protecting against enemies with longer ranged weaponry after all and their enemies definitely had hunting rifles among their forces. "Kin hunt for anything useful come daylight, maybe get some foraged breakfast."

The radio picked up a distress call, garbled through bursts of broken static from poor reception. Morning recognized the mare's voice immediately as Eagle Eyes'.

<<...near the crystal peaks -zzztt- down by an unknown atta-zt-er, requesting im-zzt- assistance! We've sustained -zzt-y casualties! Oh, goddess, what are those mutant-zzzzt-!?>>

Plasma fire. A loud crunch of something shattering glass and a pained cry. An extended line of static. Repeat.

<<Mayday mayday -zzzt-day! This is Pe-zzzzt- ne! We've been sh-zzt- down near the crystal peaks...>>

Click to shrink...

The music got interfered with, an odd blend of another signal cutting in, he adjusted the knobs with telekinesis before making out what it was, ears in hat wiggling. The familiar words of 'mutant' and 'shot down' made him consider it was probably Morning's crew. Looking to the pegasus if she was still there instead of bolting off he had one thing to say. "I'm up fer a flight if you want." @Dalek Ix

The medic made his offer of being carried there to tend to survivors if she could find any remaining, the only one with medical experience and only really Golden would otherwise be useful, and her in salvaging the remains instead of treating any survivors.

 

[Sablonus]

Voices at the back of his head. Not the usual ones, who condemned him, lambasted him- These ones spoke of camp. The old barracks? Or maybe it was the slaver camps- Had he tucked himself near another damn attack? No, it was- Fire in the sky. Scouring the earth, his horn, and mind. Had to get back. Had to- Briar snorted into the hat over his face, squinting groggily from atop the Twilight as crackling static dispersed his shattered nightmares. Like cobwebs in the wind.

<<...near the crystal peaks -zzztt- down by an unknown atta-zt-er, requesting im-zzt- assistance! We've sustained -zzt-y casualties! Oh, goddess, what are those mutant-zzzzt-!?>>

Plasma fire. A loud crunch of something shattering glass and a pained cry. An extended line of static. Repeat.

<<Mayday mayday -zzzt-day! This is Pe-zzzzt- ne! We've been sh-zzt- down near the crystal peaks...>>

Click to shrink...

"I'm up fer a flight if you want."

Click to shrink...

Probably too late for them, repeating as it was. "You go and do that, Scorched," Bitterbriar scoffed it like a slur, "Be waiting for yer' findings with baited breath." Settling back into a comfortable position- Finding one in armor was an acquired skill- The ghoul twitched, idly trying to discern the direction of the signal.

 

[Dalek Ix]

[THE OFFICER]

I pushed Ocean's cloud through the air like a gurney. I forced myself to stay steady, in spite of every fiber of my being screaming at me to unleash the the unstable, twitching ball of feathers, fur and fury I really was at the moment. I had to go faster, my team was counting on me, and every moment spent with the muties was another moment where my team could be dead, dying, or worse.

But I was up against an organized enemy. One who could shoot down an entire scouting fleet and command raider gangs. I was confident in my abilities, but not so much that I was blind to the statistical reality of being sniped or swatted out of the air.

And I wanted Sawbone's medical skills on hoof, just in case I couldn't find Soft Feather right away. He'd saved two pegasi's wings already; even a blind pony could see that wasn't something to disregard.

(The idea that I wouldn't find her, or that I'd find her too late, was not worth thinking about. I would.)

We reach a junction on the tracks, and trace of arctic air blows over me. Just enough for me to notice. Taking advantage of how slow everypony else is, I pop up to a higher altitude to see what lies further ahead... and get a better feel of that distant weather pattern.

The perpetual blizzard keeping Vanhoover locked away was mostly contained behind the mountains. A cold wind and stray, icy flakes whizzing by gave all the grounded people a good idea of what was there, and Morning could simply fly up to see the dark, storming haze herself, boiling at the edges of the normal cloud cover wherever the mountains didn't peak into sunlight. That path was a deathtrap.

Click to shrink...

I shudder, and hurry back down to Ocean Breeze's cloud. I wonder how the Hells did Golden escape that frozen deathtrap, but the weather pony in me is, once again, wondering if the cloud layer has something to do with the Great Storm. The exact boundaries of the SPP system aren't public and, again, trapped under several layers of secrecy, restrictions and security clearances, but even the dumbest filly fresh from flight school could tell you how weather systems work, and you can't keep that much cloud cover going by itself.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) the only answer I can come up with is... maybe. Maybe it's the result of the SPP cloud layer. Maybe its a natural weather pattern interacting with it. Maybe some bureaucrat in New Cloudsdale threw a dart on a map and doomed Vanhoofer to a perpetual winter, or maybe they don't even know it's happening at all.

I snort in frustration, and all I can do is fly past.

Day passes.

Night falls.

"Should we set up camp?" Golden asked, directing the question to the party as a whole. "It is pretty dark."

Click to shrink...

"Ah'd advise getting among tha woods on either side a'fore that. Fuel for fire, cover for if we git attacked." Sawbone Sid suggested, the open field wasn't great for protecting against enemies with longer ranged weaponry after all and their enemies definitely had hunting rifles among their forces. "Kin hunt for anything useful come daylight, maybe get some foraged breakfast."

Click to shrink...

Eventually, even power-armor assisted flight gets exhausting, and there's only so much tired, half-sleepy foals a mare can stand before I have to call it quits.

"... Camp sounds like a good idea," I grudgingly admit. Just because I recognize the need to rest doesn't mean I have to like it. "I'd like to make more cloud too, so-"

Anything else I'm about to say gets interrupted by a crackle from the radio.

It was deep into the night before the group came across anything new, amidst yawns and tired foals. Unicorn Ridge was still to their left, but beginning to level off in favor of sparse, dead woodland up further ahead. The very dead forest to their right was also thinning out the further north they traveled, and beyond the forest to the east would be Galloping Gorge Crater, as Starlight had described it. The Crystal Mountains loomed in the distance, shrouded in darkness. The radio picked up a distress call, garbled through bursts of broken static from poor reception. Morning recognized the mare's voice immediately as Eagle Eyes'.

<<...near the crystal peaks -zzztt- down by an unknown atta-zt-er, requesting im-zzt- assistance! We've sustained -zzt-y casualties! Oh, goddess, what are those mutant-zzzzt-!?>>

Plasma fire. A loud crunch of something shattering glass and a pained cry. An extended line of static. Repeat.

<<Mayday mayday -zzzt-day! This is Pe-zzzzt- ne! We've been sh-zzt- down near the crystal peaks...>>

Click to shrink...

The music got interfered with, an odd blend of another signal cutting in, he adjusted the knobs with telekinesis before making out what it was, ears in hat wiggling. The familiar words of 'mutant' and 'shot down' made him consider it was probably Morning's crew. Looking to the pegasus if she was still there instead of bolting off he had one thing to say. "I'm up fer a flight if you want." @Dalek Ix

The medic made his offer of being carried there to tend to survivors if she could find any remaining, the only one with medical experience and only really Golden would otherwise be useful, and her in salvaging the remains instead of treating any survivors.

Click to shrink...

Probably too late for them, repeating as it was. "You go and do that, Scorched," Bitterbriar scoffed it like a slur, "Be waiting for yer' findings with baited breath." Settling back into a comfortable position- Finding one in armor was an acquired skill- The ghoul twitched, idly trying to discern the direction of the signal.

Click to shrink...

I push Ocean's cloud gurney down, closer to the ground. I almost bolt away, but a glance towards Sawbone (and his offer) reminds me that maybe bringing a medic along would be a good idea, so instead I bolt towards him, plucking him up from the ground and flying up and away from the campsite after only briefly calling up the map on my suit's HUD.

<<Pelican One ,this is Morning Mist! I am headed towards your position ASAP, please respond, over!>>

It's only a couple moments later that I remember that it might also be wise to inform the Kirin in the big robot.

@The Fourth Monado

<<Dawn, this is Morning. I just got a distress call and I am heading towards it. Sending location now, over.>>

 

[Asmodemus]

Ternox/Sawbone Sid

Probably too late for them, repeating as it was. "You go and do that, Scorched," Bitterbriar scoffed it like a slur, "Be waiting for yer' findings with baited breath." Settling back into a comfortable position- Finding one in armor was an acquired skill- The ghoul twitched, idly trying to discern the direction of the signal.

Click to shrink...

"Ah'm just tryin' ta keep her-" The doctor starts before he's picked up and flown off with like a hastily grabbed bag of medical supplies. Which was more or less accurate.

"Tell me best how ta be carried." The changeling said in the air as they were ready for clinging on, hanging limply, or hanging curled up, as Morning Mist preferred. No matter the way, they'd silently watch and monitor for incoming threats, letting the pegasi work through her thoughts as they traveled. He didn't have high hopes for what they'd find, if there was anyone to be helped though, he'd do what he could for them.

 

[Cyreni]

@Asmodemus @Dalek Ix
The wreck was long abandoned by the time Morning and Sawbone saw the first bits of strewn metal scarring the foothills of the Crystal Mountains. Pelican One's stern was smashed into the rocky slopes beyond hope of repair and as cold as the grave. Plasma scorch marks intermingled with many more black crystal growths along the hull, extruding like a malignant fungus. It was most concentrated around a gaping wound in the port side aft.

Morning had been sucked out through there not so long ago.

Black crystals were broken aside to make their way inside. Morning saw nobody. Weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, food, repair kits; anything not nailed down and not cloud-based had been looted. The pilot's cloud terminal and the black box were intact and unchanged, Morning found nothing new on them except for the final records of Pelican One's audio and instruments. Eagle's looping distress call came from it, but there was more from just prior that Morning could listen to.

The sizzle and whine of a slowly-discharging thunderhead. Voices Morning could recognize, Frostbite barking orders in the background to the percussion of Enclave soldiers preparing for a fight, while Eagle up front recorded her distress call.

"Frosty! Contact!" Eagle called out shortly after finishing. "Armed ground pounders, port side!"

A crack and shatter with a peculiar, ringing chime. Eagle swore- a clatter of an armed pegasus hitting the deck, followed by a cacophony of plasma zzaps.

"Out! Get behind the bird!" Frostbite ordered. "We're sitting ducks in here!"

Another crack and ringing chime. Somepony screamed. "Grab Walker and move!" Frostbite's retreating voice ordered under a hail of enemy fire, wings flapping and a few metallic hooves galloping.

"What is that!?" called Cloud Bolt, barely audible in the distance.

A noise somewhere between a hiss and a roar flooded the recording. Frostbite screamed in agony, hooves galloped closer, and then the recording ended with Eagle Eyes up close. "Lance Corporal Frostbite and Private Cloud Walker are down! We've been cut off by a large cloud of black magic! No sign of SFC North, and we are bucked. Whatever's up there is a critical threat to the Enclave!"

More hooves. Eagle inhaled sharply. Plasma shots, and then the audio stopped.

Sawbone, on the other hoof, tasted pain and fear as soon as they approached. It was faint, but it held the same blinding, desperate sort of quality he'd gotten from Ocean earlier. Where, though...?

A search around the downed vertibuck found him the answer. Pinned against the back side of the vehicle was a thing that had once been an intact pegasus stallion, his fur burst open by the crystal that had worked its way entirely throughout his body. Everything that Sawbone knew told him that the stallion should have been long dead- organ failure, bleedout, his face being turned into a nearly unrecognizable horror show; a multitude of reasons anypony else would die from -and yet this was the pony whose emotions he tasted.

 

[Asmodemus]

Ternox/Sawbone Sid

@Dalek Ix

The wreck was long abandoned by the time Morning and Sawbone saw the first bits of strewn metal scarring the foothills of the Crystal Mountains. Pelican One's stern was smashed into the rocky slopes beyond hope of repair and as cold as the grave. Plasma scorch marks intermingled with many more black crystal growths along the hull, extruding like a malignant fungus. It was most concentrated around a gaping wound in the port side aft.

Click to shrink...

The wreckage was an impressive sight, even scored and marred as it was. The size of the thing, to imagine it flying through the air.. it was quite the threat to everyone in the wastes not part of those that owned it.

And something had swatted it from the sky.

He felt tempted to say something, but the ominous sight of the crystal growths made him leery of even making a sound in case of what caused them remaining in the area. His eyes roved over matters, it was a horrific weapon as it was, to imagine it getting onto those not as armored as the pegasi were... onto him.

Black crystals were broken aside to make their way inside. Morning saw nobody. Weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, food, repair kits; anything not nailed down and not cloud-based had been looted.

Click to shrink...

It had been thoroughly looted.. by the attackers? By those leaving the wreckage? It was impossible to tell, but given the dominance of the attackers.. he had a feeling it was probably them.

Which boded ill for their little group, that even so ambushed with someone that felt responsible for them missing, that the pegasi were so overwhelmed showed a clear difference in power. Ternox wasn't certain even in it's prime that the walking machine could stand..

But then there was what he followed as Morning sought the recording, the taste of pain and fear so similar to what Ocean had felt, faint.

Sawbone, on the other hoof, tasted pain and fear as soon as they approached. It was faint, but it held the same blinding, desperate sort of quality he'd gotten from Ocean earlier. Where, though...?

A search around the downed vertibuck found him the answer. Pinned against the back side of the vehicle was a thing that had once been an intact pegasus stallion, his fur burst open by the crystal that had worked its way entirely throughout his body. Everything that Sawbone knew told him that the stallion should have been long dead- organ failure, bleedout, his face being turned into a nearly unrecognizable horror show; a multitude of reasons anypony else would die from -and yet this was the pony whose emotions he tasted.

Click to shrink...

Sawbone was horrified, terrified, empathy blaring for the pony and their awful fate, it was the result of the crystal growing, spreading, EATING their fear if what he thought was right. Ternox felt fear, for himself, loathing for this thing that caused something so opposed to what he needed on an instinctive level, it might be a danger still, dark magic twisted things, made them worse! Both couldn't handle the thing before them, emotional, reactive, worries about the dark magic and the awful scene that only came with the worst of the wastes but done casually and easily to the more powerful force than they blaring in their head! Fear. Worry. Anger. Hate. Concern. Panic.

Sawbone, the helpful and joking doctor of the Scorched, planted his hoof, bowed his head, and buried his empathy for the poor stallion.

Ternox, the Rogue Changeling living in the wastes with the ponies he watched over took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Ternox, the Infiltrator raised his head and opened his eyes to stare coldly at the scene before him.

It had been awhile.

The dark magic had eaten the stallion, erupted from them. The origin point likely beyond determination now. (Irrelevant.) The crystal kept them alive despite injury. Either for purposes of petty torture (Possible.) or for another purpose. (Possible.)

As a monitoring system was a potential option, victim/crystal assembly was planted on the back. If this was the case they were in danger now. (Hurry consideration.)

But a greater threat was common with dark magic.

Transformation. From one thing, into a deadly thing. Wild magic twisted at random. This was directed.

The stallion endured beyond their body's capability. So had the previous victim/patient. (Durability was noted.)

If showings indicated trend, then likely the crystals ensured their victim's continuation. To ensure their suffering and pain. (Likely.)

Was it merely to continue spreading to eventual end point of annihilation of victim? Or was there more to the matter? (Analysis requires lacking knowledge.)

If growth continued feeding on negative emotions as previously theorized, was there possibility of it becoming more covering? Of becoming something else? Something deadly? (Potentially. Potential threat should be neutralized.)

If crystal kept victim alive despite such injuries, the current armament was lacking for ceasing them. Scalpels uncertain of penetrating crystal under skin. Uncertain if damage could be done to end life. Medicines used as poisons uncertain given crystal perpetuating survival. (Area looted, only greater armament in locale is plasma weaponry of Morning.)

The only real recourse was to inform Morning and get them to destroy the victim before exfiltrating. Ternox turned and began marching back. They would need to convince them it was the right thing to do. (Persona Sawbone required) Which meant letting-

Ternox, the Rogue Changeling in his guise gasped as they stopped in their march and breathed deep for a moment. Letting it all wash over them finally as their persona slipped away, breathing heavy. It wasn't often that the wastelands offered something so nasty he had to lock away the panic like that to focus.

He grimaced, shaking his head. Didn't look forwards to this but he trotted back over to Morning anyway. It needed to be done, fast.

Approaching her, Sawbone considered his options. They were all shit.

The doctor trotted up to her. To give his prognosis. Making his voice clear, shoving down his accent to make it clear.

"We can't save him." He wished they could. All of him did.

"My tools aren't enough." He's sorry he couldn't do it himself.

"He needs you to end it." It needed to be done.

"I'll be there with you." He won't abandon her to it herself.

"Back end of the ship." He moved to the site.

 

[triumph8w]

"Ah'd advise getting among tha woods on either side a'fore that. Fuel for fire, cover for if we git attacked." Sawbone Sid suggested, the open field wasn't great for protecting against enemies with longer ranged weaponry after all and their enemies definitely had hunting rifles among their forces. "Kin hunt for anything useful come daylight, maybe get some foraged breakfast."

The music got interfered with, an odd blend of another signal cutting in, he adjusted the knobs with telekinesis before making out what it was, ears in hat wiggling. The familiar words of 'mutant' and 'shot down' made him consider it was probably Morning's crew. Looking to the pegasus if she was still there instead of bolting off he had one thing to say. "I'm up fer a flight if you want." @Dalek Ix

The medic made his offer of being carried there to tend to survivors if she could find any remaining, the only one with medical experience and only really Golden would otherwise be useful, and her in salvaging the remains instead of treating any survivors.

Click to shrink...

Eventually, even power-armor assisted flight gets exhausting, and there's only so much tired, half-sleepy foals a mare can stand before I have to call it quits.

"... Camp sounds like a good idea," I grudgingly admit. Just because I recognize the need to rest doesn't mean I have to like it. "I'd like to make more cloud too, so-"

Anything else I'm about to say gets interrupted by a crackle from the radio.

I push Ocean's cloud gurney down, closer to the ground. I almost bolt away, but a glance towards Sawbone (and his offer) reminds me that maybe bringing a medic along would be a good idea, so instead I bolt towards him, plucking him up from the ground and flying up and away from the campsite after only briefly calling up the map on my suit's HUD.

<<Pelican One ,this is Morning Mist! I am headed towards your position ASAP, please respond, over!>>

It's only a couple moments later that I remember that it might also be wise to inform the Kirin in the big robot.

@The Fourth Monado

<<Dawn, this is Morning. I just got a distress call and I am heading towards it. Sending location now, over.>>

Click to shrink...

"Thats fair," Golden Gears said. She hadn't spoken too much to him—though, granted, she hadn't spoken too much to anyone here. Or, well, more accurately known them long—but Doc seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders.

She nodded at Morning Mist when she finished speaking. The Pegasus was anxious to keep moving, that was clear. But there wasn't much use in going on alone if the people who could take on a Cloudship were waiting for them.

Golden could keep going herself, probably. But better not to risk it. Night was a dangerous time, no matter where one was in the world.

But whatever chance at slowing down went out the window when Morning Mist abruptly stopped, put her wounded friend down, then picked up the Doc and flew off. Golden blinked at the motion. That was quite the hurry. Given they had left the other Pegasus behind, they'd probably be back. Some sign from her comrades?

Well, the only way to catch up to them was to start running, and she had to admit, after the day she had Golden didn't quite feel like doing that until she knew more.

"So!" Golden Gears said to the gathered group, forcing some cheer into her voice as she broke the abrupt silence. "How 'bout we take a break until they get back. I'm sure some of the people here could use a rest."

The Kirin children, most of all.

Golden herself didn't need it too badly, but she had it pounded into her head long ago on the differences in stamina between an Earth Pony and, say, a Unicorn. Just because she was good to keep walking didn't mean everyone else would be. Especially if they were about to be shot at again.

"Dawn, you've got a radio right?" She called up to the giant mechanical monster. They'd have to figure out how loud one had to be to talk to him in that thing. Or just get more radios. "Could you tell us if anything comes up?"

Buddy had waddled to a stop beside her, head passively scanning its surroundings.

"Remember! Vigilance is. Key. Against the. Striped Menace. Report anything suspicions. To. The. Ministry of Morale!"


@The Fourth Monado @Sablonus @Cyreni

 

[Sablonus]

"So!" Golden Gears said to the gathered group, forcing some cheer into her voice as she broke the abrupt silence. "How 'bout we take a break until they get back. I'm sure some of the people here could use a rest."

Click to shrink...

Briar cracked an eye open from his place atop the Twilight, leaning out to sneer. "Aching hooves never hurt nopony- Strap the whiners to the bot and keep moving! Those two'll catch up, or they won't- But every two-bit cavalcade of hopefuls and nasties are making the same trek north!"

Dismissive disdain belayed a quiet anxiety, and the longer they spent out in the open, the harder it gnawed. Just had to keep moving- Keep moving.

 

[Dalek Ix]

[THE OFFICER]

My wings propel me.

It has been a long, long day of flying; I'm sore and tired and my wings ache, and that's the furthest thing from my mind. All I can think of is, Move! Faster! Faster!

It's all I can do to drown out the creeping thought that I may already be too late; the message has been on repeat for stars know how long, to say nothing of what I could gather from the transmission. Under attack.

I fly as hard as I can in silence. And in the end, it's just as I dreaded.

The wreck was long abandoned by the time Morning and Sawbone saw the first bits of strewn metal scarring the foothills of the Crystal Mountains. Pelican One's stern was smashed into the rocky slopes beyond hope of repair and as cold as the grave. Plasma scorch marks intermingled with many more black crystal growths along the hull, extruding like a malignant fungus. It was most concentrated around a gaping wound in the port side aft.

Morning had been sucked out through there not so long ago.

Black crystals were broken aside to make their way inside. Morning saw nobody. Weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, food, repair kits; anything not nailed down and not cloud-based had been looted. The pilot's cloud terminal and the black box were intact and unchanged, Morning found nothing new on them except for the final records of Pelican One's audio and instruments. Eagle's looping distress call came from it, but there was more from just prior that Morning could listen to.

Click to shrink...

I drop Sawtooth a short distance to the ground without a word, and then land myself. Quietly, I move amongst the debris and into what was left of Pelican-One. My hooves brush against the torn, jagged hole I'd been sucked out of at the start of this feather-plucked mess, and my mind wondered why.

Why me? Luck? A lack of it? Some whimsy of dead gods?

What would've happened if I'd held on? Could I have rallied the survivors? Would've I perished in the crash? Been captured like the others?

There is no answer.

I push in. Whoever had been here before us had torn through the vertibuck with gusto; even the benches and storage racks had been torn away. Some strange impulse in my brain pushes a thought into my consciousness; that maybe it's for the best that Eagle Eye's not here to see what they've done to her Vertibuck.

I shake that thought off. The Flight Computer's still intact, and I move towards it to plug my suit into the connector. I silence the distress call, and pause before selecting the black box recording.

I grit my teeth, and press play.

The sizzle and whine of a slowly-discharging thunderhead. Voices Morning could recognize, Frostbite barking orders in the background to the percussion of Enclave soldiers preparing for a fight, while Eagle up front recorded her distress call.

"Frosty! Contact!" Eagle called out shortly after finishing. "Armed ground pounders, port side!"

A crack and shatter with a peculiar, ringing chime. Eagle swore- a clatter of an armed pegasus hitting the deck, followed by a cacophony of plasma zzaps.

"Out! Get behind the bird!" Frostbite ordered. "We're sitting ducks in here!"

Another crack and ringing chime. Somepony screamed. "Grab Walker and move!" Frostbite's retreating voice ordered under a hail of enemy fire, wings flapping and a few metallic hooves galloping.

"What is that!?" called Cloud Bolt, barely audible in the distance.

A noise somewhere between a hiss and a roar flooded the recording. Frostbite screamed in agony, hooves galloped closer, and then the recording ended with Eagle Eyes up close. "Lance Corporal Frostbite and Private Cloud Walker are down! We've been cut off by a large cloud of black magic! No sign of SFC North, and we are bucked. Whatever's up there is a critical threat to the Enclave!"

More hooves. Eagle inhaled sharply. Plasma shots, and then the audio stopped.

Click to shrink...

The recording is... what I expect. A battle against unknown foes. Desperation.

So little had the recording captured. So much could be inferred. So much could be imagined.

Black magic...

Very little of Equestria's magical knowledge had survived --libraries of spellbooks both ancient and new, the research institutes the Ministries had crash-built, the generations of knowledge passed on from one unicorn to another; all had burned with the rest of the surface-- but of all the scraps which had made it to the clouds, one tiny nugget had been about Black Magic. A reccomendation to anypony who wished to study it:

Don't.

My wings shifted, and I couldn't help but make my tail twitch. I downloaded the flight logs, and began to input the command which would burn out the Flight Computer and set the reactor into meltdown...

... and then paused. I unplugged my suit from the FC. Sawbone's approaching me, and something about him makes my stomach dive.

"We can't save him." He wished they could. All of him did.

"My tools aren't enough." He's sorry he couldn't do it himself.

"He needs you to end it." It needed to be done.

"I'll be there with you." He won't abandon her to it herself.

"Back end of the ship." He moved to the site.

Click to shrink...

A search around the downed vertibuck found him the answer. Pinned against the back side of the vehicle was a thing that had once been an intact pegasus stallion, his fur burst open by the crystal that had worked its way entirely throughout his body. Everything that Sawbone knew told him that the stallion should have been long dead- organ failure, bleedout, his face being turned into a nearly unrecognizable horror show; a multitude of reasons anypony else would die from -and yet this was the pony whose emotions he tasted.

Click to shrink...

It takes a moment to understand the horror.

"Morning Frost"​

"..."

"Good Morning, Morning."​

The only way to even tell that it's Frostbite is the IFF of his suit.

"... Ever get tired of that joke?"​

"..."

"No, ma'am."​

The only way to tell that he's alive is because my EFS tags him as such.

"Ugh. No wonder Cloud Bolt likes you; both of you are clowns."​

"..."

"Well, somepony has to have a sense of humour, hm?"​

Coming here was a mistake.

"... Lance Corporal Frostbite." I force my words to be steady and strong. He deserves the best I can do. "Soldier of the Enclave. You have served our home with honor... with your bravery, your patience, and your steadfast resolve."

My plasma rifles deploy, and I set the charge to maximum.

"I, Morning Mist, relieve you of your duty, and send you to your ancestors." More softly, "May you find the peace we all fight for."

The rifles fire, and the horror becomes awash in brilliant light.

 

[Asmodemus]

"... Lance Corporal Frostbite." I force my words to be steady and strong. He deserves the best I can do. "Soldier of the Enclave. You have served our home with honor... with your bravery, your patience, and your steadfast resolve."

My plasma rifles deploy, and I set the charge to maximum.

"I, Morning Mist, relieve you of your duty, and send you to your ancestors." More softly, "May you find the peace we all fight for."

The rifles fire, and the horror becomes awash in brilliant light.

Click to shrink...

By her side stands a stallion draped in brown, masked head bowed as she spoke the words and delivered the stallion the needed end. He felt the peagsi's passing but stepped forwards and made his horn glow as he looked the remaining corpse over, acting for benefit before turning to her and nodding.

A brief hesitation before a hoof raises and places itself on her back in sympathy and comfort. "Never any words ta make it right. Ta describe, let alone comfert a loss. Everypony's a bright spark in tha dark in their own way, and the world's a bit darker without em. All we kin do is move on, and hope those around us kin move on when we're gone.

Ocean Breeze is waitin', with everypony else. Tomorrow's another day in tha Wasteland."

 

[Cyreni]

@The Fourth Monado, @Sablonus, @triumph8w
Morning Mist didn't return for long enough that catching up quickly became unrealistic. The day had been incredibly hard and everyone was tired and stressed, especially the foals.

Camp was set up. The Twilight came to a steady stop and its lights were dimmed as the kirin tribe unpacked tarps and tents and sleeping rolls somewhat more comfortable than the hard ground. A couple campfires were erected, using nirikflame and dead wood encircled in stones, and ancient, heavily preserved foods from the past were rationed out and occasionally heated up.

It was a sombre gathering, but only for tiredness and the uncertain future. Coming out of conflict nearly unscathed and finding friendly allies would be reason enough to celebrate otherwise.

- - -
@Dalek Ix, @Asmodemus
Morning Mist returned with Sawbone later that night, when the tribe was bedding down to sleep and straws had been drawn to keep watch. Even without an IFF tagging it, missing the Twilight's looming silhouette over the eldritch campfires would require her to be half blind in a monsoon.

 

[Asmodemus]

@Dalek Ix

"Ah'll explain what we found to em. You kin just set up a resting spot with Ocean. Make sure he's got ah friendly face to wake up ter." Sawbone said to Morning Mist as they were dropped off. Figuring that she wouldn't want to describe what happened but would want them to be aware of the threats.

He'd see about gathering the ponies and kirins up for hearing matters before they hit the hay.

@The Fourth Monado, @Sablonus, @triumph8w

The masked unicorn spoke in a morose voice as he explained matters to those that showed up. "That call fer help weren't too recent. Most of em were gone, probably taken by what shot em down en shot up Ocean Breeze, that pegasi came ter us earlier. Everything was looted down to tha hull. Worst thing though was that one of them pegasi were still there. Ah'm not sure ah'd call em 'alive' tho. But in pain. He was hit by them crystals, had em grow through tha poor stallion, burst out his hide, grown him into the back end of tha ship. Dark magic fer sure. That stallion's gone now." His tone made it clear he wasn't going to elaborate on that matter before turning more considering and wary.

"Ain't sure what launches it yet, spell or weapon, but if it gets on ya, hope it hits armor or some limb ya ain't gonna miss. Iffen there's a way to fight it, I ain't got a clue. Mebbe a proper trained wizard pony would know, but I ain't that. Only thang I know about dark magic is it feeds on yer worst emotions.

Once we find that tribe, we oughta look into contacting other groups. See if anypony's learned some counters. Iffen there's one thang you can count on in the Wasteland, it's that everypony's got somepony fighting em." A note of optimism, that they were likely not alone out there, that others had to be against this force, ponies they could learn from, get tips and understand better how to survive.

 

[Sablonus]

Bitterbriar snorts pessimistically from where he laid, still halfway incensed they'd stopped for camp. "Just keep me out of mind when your maybe-bedfellows ask for a haunch and hoof in return." The ghoul nurses a visibly irradiated canteen, mulling over the threat assessment. Crystals.. North..

His scrambled brains chugged along to no avail. "And go to sleep already! We can worry about scary rocks after we've actually made it north."

 

[Cyreni]

@The Fourth Monado, @Dalek Ix, @Sablonus, @Asmodemus, @triumph8w

The sun rose, filtered through the omnipresent cloud layer. Pitch darkness became dim gray light. It was time to eat and move again, in spite of an insufficient rest for most.

Camp was packed up with an efficiency born from generations of practice, and for a short while the air was filled with clinking cookware, muted conversation, and, briefly, a tantrum from one of the foals.

Ocean Breeze had begun to stir, dreaming fitfully with tosses and twitches and indecipherable mumbles. Sawbone could taste fear from him again; nightmares, undoubtedly from the trauma he'd just experienced. The kirins who'd been shot yesterday were doing alright, though the colt had become quiet and withdrawn.

Golden gave the Twilight a look-over. Its excursion had revealed more issues: a few of the matrix circuits and wiring had overheated and burnt out. Parts would be a priority to keep it in usable condition. While Golden and Dawn could make fixes and rely on backup matrix paths to keep it running for now, anything significant burning out from old age would quickly become a problem on par with its energy shortage.

The Twilight powered up faster than it had yesterday, even with the mild systems damage. As the tribe finished packing up camp into packs, did a headcount, and started walking, the looming mech followed. All that was left behind were smoldering campfires and a waste pile.

- - -

A chill northern breeze picked up as the tracks led to a mountain pass in the distance. The Pelican's crash site was far off the beaten path to the east, sparing the tribe the sight (and Morning the possibility of the kirins salvaging the ship for parts even more thoroughly than the attackers).

They passed by an old box that could barely be called a train station. It couldn't have seen much use even during its heyday. A rotted platform, a one pony booth with four caps, raider graffiti, and three empty bullet casings inside, and a metal bench so rusty it looked like it would spontaneously disintegrate below and bestow tetanus upon whoever sat on it next.

The whole point of the stop was for a path leading to a slightly elevated, scenic vista of the wasteland. Snow-capped peaks on the right, rolling dead hills in front, and leafless gray forest to the left. It had been beautiful, once. Now it made lunch slightly more interesting than usual.

Snowflakes began to drift by as the mountain foothills began to rise underhoof, and the mountain pass loomed overhead. Still the tracks went forward, winding slightly through the valley. The centuries hadn't been kind, and landslides had completely buried significant portions of the tracks. Some places had flooded with rainwater, turned murky from collecting silt, dirt, and radioisotopes.

The first hoofprints were found nearly two-thirds of the way through the valley. A lot of them, imprinted in mud and tracked across an occasional rock. Most suggested the ponies had been wearing armor or shoes, a few were bare. Snow flecked past more frequently here, ruffling coats and catching the eyes of the youngest foals, and prompting some warmth to bring along before proceeding further north. This snow wasn't coming from the clouds overhead, it came from much, much further in the distance.

A flat, wide plain opened up in front of the group. The snow was a more palpable force here, whiting out the distance save for a few lights hugging the northwest horizon. A settlement? A camp? Something else? It was impossible to tell from where they were. The hoofprint trail was partially obscured beneath a thin sheet of snow, and only got harder to follow the deeper the snow got. They were not pointed towards the lights, instead beelining northeast.

 

[Asmodemus]

Ternox/Sawbone Sid

The sun rose, filtered through the omnipresent cloud layer. Pitch darkness became dim gray light. It was time to eat and move again, in spite of an insufficient rest for most.

Camp was packed up with an efficiency born from generations of practice, and for a short while the air was filled with clinking cookware, muted conversation, and, briefly, a tantrum from one of the foals.

Ocean Breeze had begun to stir, dreaming fitfully with tosses and twitches and indecipherable mumbles. Sawbone could taste fear from him again; nightmares, undoubtedly from the trauma he'd just experienced. The kirins who'd been shot yesterday were doing alright, though the colt had become quiet and withdrawn.

Click to shrink...

Sawbone had dipped out for a time in the morning, searching for any medicinal plants in the nearby area, if anything was usable they'd go into his stores of ingredients for his salves, ideally coming back with a bit of food for the others that Ternox could present false leads of having eaten his fill outside, but one never could count on forage to be guaranteed in the wasteland sadly. Especially if one wasn't hunting nor had intention to hunt.

Checking his patients he was satisfied with Ocean's recovery, holding back from trying to interfere with his dreaming to avoid waste of his reserves, but recommending that Morning comfort the young stallion, ponies responding well to familiar voices in their dreaming states. The stallion wasn't in mind breaking fear so it was handleable by other means.

That the kirin patients were well was good, and Sawbone tried to cheer up the injured colt, but knew that it would take said colt reuniting with his actual guardians to be truly happy.

Leaving the site, Sawbone let others take point where it was wide open, but moving forwards when places were more enclosed, senses extended for threat or signs of danger his experience could notice. If the Kirin were older he'd trust in their experience but he had no real way of knowing just how much they knew about the terrain, it seemed they had made mistakes before that got the group ambushed.

Ternox still chided himself for not addressing said flaws back when but knew their personal traveling experience laid more with either travelling solo or as a member of a large group with experienced leaders taking point so he need not even consider such things.

As always the wastelands were a mix of oppressive deadness, faint horror of the ruination of the world, hints of the past and slight glory now with the rolling hills.

The first hoofprints were found nearly two-thirds of the way through the valley. A lot of them, imprinted in mud and tracked across an occasional rock. Most suggested the ponies had been wearing armor or shoes, a few were bare.

Click to shrink...

"Lot've armored ponies passin' threw." Sawbone noted as they checked the hoofprints, masked face hovering close to them failing to manifest a magical ability to sense what happened in the past. "Slavers weren't so armored ah reckon. Mighta been proper elite tho. Or someponies else what are going fur the story."

A flat, wide plain opened up in front of the group. The snow was a more palpable force here, whiting out the distance save for a few lights hugging the northwest horizon. A settlement? A camp? Something else? It was impossible to tell from where they were. The hoofprint trail was partially obscured beneath a thin sheet of snow, and only got harder to follow the deeper the snow got. They were not pointed towards the lights, instead beelining northeast.

Click to shrink...

Lights or many hoofprints... "Ah suggest we head tah the lights. Might be folk we kin get some infermation from, mebbe somepony's seen anypony we might be lookin' fer. Or might be a slaver camp we kin terrify with our giant war machine intuh surrenderin'."

 

[Dalek Ix]

[THE OFFICER]

By her side stands a stallion draped in brown, masked head bowed as she spoke the words and delivered the stallion the needed end. He felt the peagsi's passing but stepped forwards and made his horn glow as he looked the remaining corpse over, acting for benefit before turning to her and nodding.

A brief hesitation before a hoof raises and places itself on her back in sympathy and comfort. "Never any words ta make it right. Ta describe, let alone comfert a loss. Everypony's a bright spark in tha dark in their own way, and the world's a bit darker without em. All we kin do is move on, and hope those around us kin move on when we're gone.

Ocean Breeze is waitin', with everypony else. Tomorrow's another day in tha Wasteland."

Click to shrink...

The helmet slips back on.

"... There are procedures for unrecoverable equipment that I must," I say, the voice-changer sounding somehow harsher than usual. "It's... not often we are put in a position where we are forced to enact them." A pause. "There are thermite charges scattered around key areas... once they're triggered, whatever's left of Pelican-One will be reduced to slag. After that, we will leave."

As I turn to head back into the Vertibuck, I mutter to myself, my voice lowered to a harsh, steel-on-steel hiss.

"They will pay for this."

Morning Mist returned with Sawbone later that night, when the tribe was bedding down to sleep and straws had been drawn to keep watch. Even without an IFF tagging it, missing the Twilight's looming silhouette over the eldritch campfires would require her to be half blind in a monsoon.

Click to shrink...

"Ah'll explain what we found to em. You kin just set up a resting spot with Ocean. Make sure he's got ah friendly face to wake up ter." Sawbone said to Morning Mist as they were dropped off. Figuring that she wouldn't want to describe what happened but would want them to be aware of the threats.

He'd see about gathering the ponies and kirins up for hearing matters before they hit the hay.

Click to shrink...

I stare at the rest of our little... group, face unreadable behind the polarized lenses and lightweight-alloy armour of my helmet.

"... Thank you."

I say nothing more, as I walk towards where I'd left Ocean Breeze. I checked him over again. And again.

By the third time, I was forced to admit that I couldn't do anything more, so I just... laid down next to him, and despite all my expectations, I fell asleep almost before I realized it.

When I awoke, it was 0530; my heart was racing, and my interface suit felt drenched in cold sweat. Taking a moment to calm myself down, I decided to wait for the sun to rise before I forced myself to interact with the others; in the meantime, I busied myself between tending to Ocean Breeze, checking the radio, and wondering if I should make another cloud.

The sun rose, filtered through the omnipresent cloud layer. Pitch darkness became dim gray light. It was time to eat and move again, in spite of an insufficient rest for most.

Camp was packed up with an efficiency born from generations of practice, and for a short while the air was filled with clinking cookware, muted conversation, and, briefly, a tantrum from one of the foals.

Ocean Breeze had begun to stir, dreaming fitfully with tosses and twitches and indecipherable mumbles. Sawbone could taste fear from him again; nightmares, undoubtedly from the trauma he'd just experienced. The kirins who'd been shot yesterday were doing alright, though the colt had become quiet and withdrawn.

Golden gave the Twilight a look-over. Its excursion had revealed more issues: a few of the matrix circuits and wiring had overheated and burnt out. Parts would be a priority to keep it in usable condition. While Golden and Dawn could make fixes and rely on backup matrix paths to keep it running for now, anything significant burning out from old age would quickly become a problem on par with its energy shortage.

The Twilight powered up faster than it had yesterday, even with the mild systems damage. As the tribe finished packing up camp into packs, did a headcount, and started walking, the looming mech followed. All that was left behind were smoldering campfires and a waste pile.

Click to shrink...

My namesake could not have come sooner. The camp woke up for breakfast and packing, and I was tempted to nudge at Ocean Breeze as he stirred. By some miracle, I refrained... maybe because Feather would have my flank if I touched a patient.

I carefully hid the pang of anxiety thinking about Soft Feather gave me.

@The Fourth Monado

Before we set off again, I called Dawn over and gave him some of the emergency frequencies the Enclave used; I'd periodically fly high as possible to try and get a signal, but it was possible that the radio equipent on the Twilight was better than what I had on my suit, if only because there'd be more room for it.

With that out of the way, we set off just as yesterday; I'd range ahead and above, occasionally "popping up" to try and get a signal and also view further ahead, and then wait for the ground-pounders to catch up.

All the while, I kept one eye on Ocean breeze, waiting for him to finally wake.

A chill northern breeze picked up as the tracks led to a mountain pass in the distance. The Pelican's crash site was far off the beaten path to the east, sparing the tribe the sight (and Morning the possibility of the kirins salvaging the ship for parts even more thoroughly than the attackers).

They passed by an old box that could barely be called a train station. It couldn't have seen much use even during its heyday. A rotted platform, a one pony booth with four caps, raider graffiti, and three empty bullet casings inside, and a metal bench so rusty it looked like it would spontaneously disintegrate below and bestow tetanus upon whoever sat on it next.

The whole point of the stop was for a path leading to a slightly elevated, scenic vista of the wasteland. Snow-capped peaks on the right, rolling dead hills in front, and leafless gray forest to the left. It had been beautiful, once. Now it made lunch slightly more interesting than usual.

Snowflakes began to drift by as the mountain foothills began to rise underhoof, and the mountain pass loomed overhead. Still the tracks went forward, winding slightly through the valley. The centuries hadn't been kind, and landslides had completely buried significant portions of the tracks. Some places had flooded with rainwater, turned murky from collecting silt, dirt, and radioisotopes.

The first hoofprints were found nearly two-thirds of the way through the valley. A lot of them, imprinted in mud and tracked across an occasional rock. Most suggested the ponies had been wearing armor or shoes, a few were bare. Snow flecked past more frequently here, ruffling coats and catching the eyes of the youngest foals, and prompting some warmth to bring along before proceeding further north. This snow wasn't coming from the clouds overhead, it came from much, much further in the distance.

A flat, wide plain opened up in front of the group. The snow was a more palpable force here, whiting out the distance save for a few lights hugging the northwest horizon. A settlement? A camp? Something else? It was impossible to tell from where they were. The hoofprint trail was partially obscured beneath a thin sheet of snow, and only got harder to follow the deeper the snow got. They were not pointed towards the lights, instead beelining northeast.

Click to shrink...

I stare at the hoofprints. When the group catches up, I'm still staring at them, and where they lead.

Sawbone's voice breaks me out of my reverie.

"Lot've armored ponies passin' threw." Sawbone noted as they checked the hoofprints, masked face hovering close to them failing to manifest a magical ability to sense what happened in the past. "Slavers weren't so armored ah reckon. Mighta been proper elite tho. Or someponies else what are going fur the story."

Click to shrink...

"Hm..."

There was another possibility that the doctor wasn't considering.

"... Ocean mentioned my medic being led away after being forced to wear some sort of helmet, and he claimed that he could hear something's voice when he was... infected with that crystal," I muse, my voice a mechanical rumble, "If whatever did this did the same to my other ponies..."

I trail off, staring towards where the hoofprints lead.

Lights or many hoofprints... "Ah suggest we head tah the lights. Might be folk we kin get some infermation from, mebbe somepony's seen anypony we might be lookin' fer. Or might be a slaver camp we kin terrify with our giant war machine intuh surrenderin'."

Click to shrink...

I snort.

"I will accept no surrender," I tell Sawbone pointedly.

 

[Asmodemus]

Ternox/Sawbone Sid

"There are thermite charges scattered around key areas... once they're triggered, whatever's left of Pelican-One will be reduced to slag. After that, we will leave."

Click to shrink...

The doctor nodded at the explanation of what she needed to do, approving of a potential resource to the enemy being denied, even if stripped mostly already of what could be carted off. "Ah'll watch yer back." He stated before taking an observing position until her work was done and they left, their business with the wreck done. Naturally avoiding looking at the explosion if it went off before they were out of sight, no need to stress his eyes.

"... Thank you."

Click to shrink...

A brief nod was all he gave back, nothing more needing be said.

"Hm..."

There was another possibility that the doctor wasn't considering.

"... Ocean mentioned my medic being led away after being forced to wear some sort of helmet, and he claimed that he could hear something's voice when he was... infected with that crystal," I muse, my voice a mechanical rumble, "If whatever did this did the same to my other ponies..."

I trail off, staring towards where the hoofprints lead.

Click to shrink...

His masked face went down back to inspect at her theory before tilting to the side in consideration. "Ah'd normally say neigh since power armor is lots heavier than normal, makes a deeper print in tha mud, but yers is lighter than what the Steel Rangers are wearin'... Might be, might not be. Might be best ta get more infermation first anyhow before confrontin' what took yer ponies."

I snort.

"I will accept no surrender," I tell Sawbone pointedly.

Click to shrink...

"Even raiders kin accept surrender. Makes it easier ta murder everypony when the guns're down. Turnboot, fair play, alla that." The medic said without a hint of shame or reserve about suggesting killing surrendered enemies. It was the Wasteland after all. He paused in considering thought before continuing. "Though it'd be real nice of ya ta give ponies a chance. The ones leadin' raiders n slavers, they ain't gonna change, but a fresh-faced young colt? Might be diffrent. Been times raiders put tha' machetes down before. T'aint usually honest when it comes atta barrel but it happens."

He waved a hoof in the air in a 'eh' fashion. "But s'all sityewational. An ah'm just tha doc."

 

[triumph8w]

@The Fourth Monado, @Dalek Ix, @Sablonus, @Asmodemus, @triumph8w

The sun rose, filtered through the omnipresent cloud layer. Pitch darkness became dim gray light. It was time to eat and move again, in spite of an insufficient rest for most.

Camp was packed up with an efficiency born from generations of practice, and for a short while the air was filled with clinking cookware, muted conversation, and, briefly, a tantrum from one of the foals.

Ocean Breeze had begun to stir, dreaming fitfully with tosses and twitches and indecipherable mumbles. Sawbone could taste fear from him again; nightmares, undoubtedly from the trauma he'd just experienced. The kirins who'd been shot yesterday were doing alright, though the colt had become quiet and withdrawn.

Golden gave the Twilight a look-over. Its excursion had revealed more issues: a few of the matrix circuits and wiring had overheated and burnt out. Parts would be a priority to keep it in usable condition. While Golden and Dawn could make fixes and rely on backup matrix paths to keep it running for now, anything significant burning out from old age would quickly become a problem on par with its energy shortage.

The Twilight powered up faster than it had yesterday, even with the mild systems damage. As the tribe finished packing up camp into packs, did a headcount, and started walking, the looming mech followed. All that was left behind were smoldering campfires and a waste pile.

- - -

A chill northern breeze picked up as the tracks led to a mountain pass in the distance. The Pelican's crash site was far off the beaten path to the east, sparing the tribe the sight (and Morning the possibility of the kirins salvaging the ship for parts even more thoroughly than the attackers).

They passed by an old box that could barely be called a train station. It couldn't have seen much use even during its heyday. A rotted platform, a one pony booth with four caps, raider graffiti, and three empty bullet casings inside, and a metal bench so rusty it looked like it would spontaneously disintegrate below and bestow tetanus upon whoever sat on it next.

The whole point of the stop was for a path leading to a slightly elevated, scenic vista of the wasteland. Snow-capped peaks on the right, rolling dead hills in front, and leafless gray forest to the left. It had been beautiful, once. Now it made lunch slightly more interesting than usual.

Snowflakes began to drift by as the mountain foothills began to rise underhoof, and the mountain pass loomed overhead. Still the tracks went forward, winding slightly through the valley. The centuries hadn't been kind, and landslides had completely buried significant portions of the tracks. Some places had flooded with rainwater, turned murky from collecting silt, dirt, and radioisotopes.

The first hoofprints were found nearly two-thirds of the way through the valley. A lot of them, imprinted in mud and tracked across an occasional rock. Most suggested the ponies had been wearing armor or shoes, a few were bare. Snow flecked past more frequently here, ruffling coats and catching the eyes of the youngest foals, and prompting some warmth to bring along before proceeding further north. This snow wasn't coming from the clouds overhead, it came from much, much further in the distance.

A flat, wide plain opened up in front of the group. The snow was a more palpable force here, whiting out the distance save for a few lights hugging the northwest horizon. A settlement? A camp? Something else? It was impossible to tell from where they were. The hoofprint trail was partially obscured beneath a thin sheet of snow, and only got harder to follow the deeper the snow got. They were not pointed towards the lights, instead beelining northeast.

Click to shrink...

Golden Gears breath misted in front of her as she observed the tracks, and listened to the others talk.

The Twilight was a tough old girl, that much she could tell after having gotten a better look at the machine, and under less…hurried conditions. But it was tired and worn as well. Equestrian technology was advanced and stubborn, but some things were just too cutting edge for their own good. The Twilight wasn't an old terminal or some automatic door where one could feasibly give it a good kick and expect it to chug along. Tartarus, at least those had some replacement parts lying around. Or that she could even cobble together herself or with the help of a team. The Twilight? They might have some luck in stripping out a suit of power armor, or even a battleship to get that thing in half-way decent shape—and keep it there.

But, for now, it was running.

And as she scuffed at the cold ground, snowflakes grazing her hooves, she couldn't help but feel they might need it soon enough.

"Lot've armored ponies passin' threw." Sawbone noted as they checked the hoofprints, masked face hovering close to them failing to manifest a magical ability to sense what happened in the past. "Slavers weren't so armored ah reckon. Mighta been proper elite tho. Or someponies else what are going fur the story."

Click to shrink...

"Maybe more guys like the one with the weird helmet?" Golden Gears offered. She hoped it wasn't an 'elite.' Whatever that meant for this group of slavers. That sounded like a good way to get a bullet, without knowing where it had even come from.

At least she had a laser pistol, and not some dinky barely cobbled together gun shes seen in the possession of some ponies.

I snort.

"I will accept no surrender," I tell Sawbone pointedly.

Click to shrink...

"Up the hill, lads!" Buddy's voice abruptly changed and cleared, sounding bizarrely like a voice from an old radio play. Manufactured explosions and pops could be heard over stock sounds of machine gun fire. "Lets kick their flanks, and give no quarter to those damn Zebras! For Equestria!"

The protect-buck's vocoder crackled as a patriotic note blared near the end.

Golden Gears gave it a side-eye, and muttered something about 'diagnostics' under her breath.

"Morning could fly over that light source?" She said, more clearly. "That–actually, no. They, um, had something that could take out your ship. So…" Golden trailed off, narrowing her eyes at the light source.

"I don't think the Twilight has any long range scope or anything, either." Golden Gears said, squinting at the far off lights. "We might just have to get closer."