"She's waking up."

"Alright, go for takeoff." Wonderful. This made two days in a row I woke up in outrageous discomfort.

"Is this another Enclave secret base? You guys are giving me a lot of chances."

"Nope!" Shooting Stars appeared in my field of vision.

I frowned. "You're... chipper. You're smiling. I don't like this." I heard a deep bass roar and felt my weight shift as the floor moved. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"Take a look." I sat up. Man, I felt heavy today. Then I noticed that I was wearing armour. Enclave power armour specifically. That explains the pains of an awkward sleeping position. I looked out the window. The ground was moving. There were a couple of air vehicles on the ground. "Actually you won't remember Warreington, but there it is. Steel Rangers central command. We're in the back of a Vertibuck on the way to the Enclave fleet. They left Buckingham last night, and by the time we reach them they should be over Styoke."

I rubbed my head. I still didn't like this. "I'm pretty sure you didn't want anything to do with me last time I saw you. Something's going on."

"Yes! You're going to put this..." She shoved a little black device with a blinking red light at me. "... on the Queen's flagship."

I looked at it for a few seconds. This thing couldn't say 'I am a suspicious device' any harder if it tried. Then I tossed it over my shoulder. "Or I could just bail out of this flying bucket, because I have wings."

Stars' grin widened. "Or you won't, because there's a bomb collar under that suit and I have the remote!" She held up a little device with a red button under a cover. I dove for it, and she just floated it away. "Pragmatisch, ja?"

"Oh, fuck you!" I glared at her for a bit. Then I shrugged and stood up. I forgot how heavy this armour was. "You're not gonna press it."

She flicked the cap off and circled the button with a hoof. "For you, Atom, I totally would."

I stopped walking to the door and paused. I wasn't going to call her bluff. "Fine." I sighed, picked up the 'I am a bug' and sat back down. "What do you want me to do with this?" When I found a pocket to put it in, I noticed that all my stuff was inside. Even Xena. (But not Tribute's rum.) The pocket seemed to continue into my own body, but I could still feel my side. I didn't question it, because probably magic.

"There are two Thunderheads en route, the Imperious and the Carolingian. The Imperious is more heavily armed, and our scouts tell us the Queen is on board. You and Grapevine..." Grapevine poked her head out from the cockpit and waved. She was also in Enclave armour. "... are going to infiltrate the Imperious and plant this beacon in the engine room. The gunners in Formby can then lock on to this beacon to take it down in as few hits as possible."

"Why Grapevine? I mean, I'd have thought she'd be more suited to scouting and stuff."

"You and her are the only pegasi we have at our disposal."

"Seriously?"

Grapevine leaned back from the cockpit again. "In Equestria, when pegasi defect from the Enclave, they brand them and call them Dashites. Here they just execute defectors before they can leave. Helps them keep air superiority."

"Efficient. I wonder if they have gryphons advising them or something."

A static-laced voice chimed in over the radio. "G? Come in G, over."

Grapevine took the microphone. "Loud and clear. We're over Croup. We have a visual on the Thunderheads and are about to drop, over."

I furrowed my brow. "Is that Tribute?"

"She swam the Maresey and was holed up in the ferry terminal in Buckenhead when I found her. She's running comms at Formby at the moment."

"Did you guys get all this set up overnight?"

"Oh, that's nothing. Wait until you see what's going on in Manechester."

Tribute piped up again. "Guns are deployed and calibrated. The test shell came down just behind Stockport in 51 seconds, so anything inside that should be a safe hit, over."

"Alright. We're dropping and going dark now, over."

"Good luck, G."

Grapevine pulled on a helmet. Stars shoved one on me. I felt a sudden lightness as the craft dropped. "This armour has been treated to change colours once you get closer to our line in Manechester, so don't worry about ditching it on your way out."

"Any more exposition you'd like to drop on me at the last minute?" The door opened, and Grapevine crawled out of the cockpit. I guessed she wasn't the pilot.

Stars rubbed her chin. "There is one thing. I'll be monitoring the Enclave chatter, and if I can't get through to Grapevine..." She gestured an explosion with her hooves and made the noises with her mouth. She was enjoying this way too much.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Oh! Also..." She bopped a part of the armour. It made some mechanical noises, and I didn't feel nearly as heavy anymore. "It's power armour, you have to turn it on before you can use it properly."

"Hm. That explains a bit."

Grapevine bailed out, and I followed. I didn't have to feign flying confidently, because I was. I looped and barrel rolled and swerved and dived and twirled and got completely lost in the rush. Then I got grabbed.

"Atom! Focus!" Grapevine let me go, and with a grumble, I took up a position in her slipstream.

Then Stars was speaking into my ears. Great, now she could be annoying at me from a distance. "Once I pop your Stealth Bucks, I'm going to remotely switch your radios over to the Enclave channel. Ready?"

"Ready," Grapevine said.

"I could really use some breakfast."

Stars sighed. "Stealthing in three, two, one..." Grapevine vanished from my view, save for a faint blur in front of me. So did my own forelegs, and even the helmet. It was like being a disembodied pair of eyes, it was really weird. I wondered what it would be like on Mint-Als.

The Enclave chatter had their crappy radio station in the background. Not particularly loud, just their two songs and pre-recorded speeches replacing the static in the absence of chatter. Consequently, there was a lot of meaningless chatter. It was like everyone had reached the consensus to find any possible reason to talk. 'Toaster has been activated. Toast ready to deploy in T minus ninety seconds, over.' It made me hungry. I followed the blur until we touched down on the deck of the Imperious. As soon as we were down, she tugged me along until we were in cover. She counted by tapping on my leg. She pre-emptively put a hoof to my mouth. No sounds yet. At about twenty, the Stealth Bucks timed out, and we became visible again.

"You know the way to the engine room better than I do, you lead the way."

"Sure I do." I didn't. My plan was to follow the wall on my right once we were below deck.

Further down the deck, there was a raft of clouds being assembled. A throne, maybe ten, fifteen feet tall, sat in the middle, and it was surrounded by conspicuously colourful guards. Among them were a couple in tuxedos. I strongly suspected one of them was Brosnan. That would be just like him to keep refusing to die. I guess I'll just add the Queen to the list of ponies with no concept of stealth. Out of curiosity, I led Grapevine past the float in my search for the way below deck. When I chanced a look directly at her, I thought I was mixing up ponies in my head. She couldn't have a horn with those wings, could she? I looked again, trying to make it look like a general scan of my surroundings. She did - poking through her crown was a horn the same white as the rest of her. Her mane flowed red and blue, and she was having golden armour assembled on her.

We got close enough to hear them talking. The Queen's diction was refined like it was on the radio, but there was an awful lot of volume behind it. Was she related to Tribute?

"Your Majesty, we're on track to reach Manechester in twenty minutes."

"Tell me, how far behind is the Carolingian?"

"Uhm..." The dude had a brief panic as he tried to find the answer before he got executed. "Ah! It's three and a half miles behind, Your Majesty."

She floated a china cup over and took a sip from it. After a pause to savour it, she said, "Shoot it down."

"E-excuse me, Your Majesty?"

She giggled. "If they're to lag behind like that, then they shall keep me waiting, and that simply won't do, will it?"

"Of course! Your Majesty!" He turned to look for someone to shout at. The chain of orders continued below deck, and in less than a minute, the ship's guns had roared into life. They peppered the Thunderhead behind us with shells. The clouds that comprised it lost integrity from the shots themselves, and the resultant explosions from volatile systems being hit only accelerated it. Eventually, something critical took a hit, and a colossal blast ripped the whole thing in two. The sheer size made the whole thing happen in slow motion. Secondary explosions continued on the ground as balefire eggs from the armoury found their way out. Grapevine had to prod me to keep us going.

Below deck, I continued to no idea where we were going. All the chatter about things like 'eggs ready for launch', 'coffee supplies reaching critical levels, backup requested' and 'abort the toast' was making me hungry. As soon as I could smell a kitchen, I made a beeline for it. It was empty, but Grapevine nudged me on. "We can't stop for food now, we don't have time! We have maybe fifteen minutes!"

"Loads of time for breakfast." I took off my helmet to steal some toast and scoop some jam straight out of the jar. I also took their toaster and stuffed it in my mysteriously spacious pocket. I replaced the helmet and left. "That was only two minutes, yeah?"

"Why did you..."

"It's broken. I need to fix it." I tapped my nose. I had no idea what Grapevine was doing with her face under the helmet, but she didn't question me further.

I was starting to recognise some of the layout from the Majesty. Not to the point that I could reliably navigate, but enough that I remembered that just around this corner was the armoury. There were a couple of soldiers milling around and getting battle saddles equipped. We blended in by taking a pair ourselves. Grapevine started scooping up balefire eggs. The clerk leaned through his window and raised a hoof. I went up to him and slammed my hoof on the desk before he said anything.

"We are under direct orders to take these class A high explosives to a secure location. Do you know how much of a liability those things are if they're still on board while we're deploying?" I barked.

"I... uhm..."

"And if you have a problem with those orders, you can take it up with Her Majesty. Feel up to it?"

"N-n-no Ma'am!" He gulped and saluted.

With the helmet I was free to grin as I leaned over him until he started sweating. I backed off. Grapevine finished collecting the eggs, and I stormed out. "Come on Lieutenant, let's roll."

"That's not how you pronounce 'lieutenant'." When she said it, it sounded like 'left-tenant'.

"Do I hear insubordination?"

She looked back once we were back in the corridor, and whispered. "You can drop the act now."

"Hut-two-three-four move, soldier!" She sighed.

We spent another five minutes wandering back and forth through the ship until we found the engine room. Under the guise of a 'security inspection', I shoved the beacon under a console and slapped a techie for good measure. I wasn't sure if Grapevine was catching on to how you were supposed to act to properly pass for Enclave (attack everyone who isn't being dastardly enough for your tastes), but she didn't join in.

We got back on deck in time to see our approach to Manechester. The Queen's raft was preparing to take off behind us. It was a clear morning with the sun burning off the last of the dew, and the last intact windows in the tower shining brightly, and... I had run to the prow to get closer, because I had to get a better look. There were orange banners hanging from the tower, with... was that my cutie mark? Grapevine caught up and chuckled.

"I told you there was a surprise waiting for you in Manechester. You've kind of made yourself a legend. Even after Stars told central command about everything you've done, they still wanted you on their side, because of how much you've inspired ordinary ponies."

"I... wow."

"They're calling themselves the Children of Atom." I had to break down laughing. "It is a bit of a goofy name, yeah?"

"It is, but that's not it. I'm just... it's like these ponies are so desperate for a hero that they've latched on to anyone with the slightest bit of initiative." I needed another moment to collect myself. "I'm an out-and-out bastard, Grapevine. I don't care about any of these ponies. I'm just doing this because this is fun. Also I have a bomb collar on, but the fun came first."

She looked at me and paused. "Then do it for the glory. Look at it this way: if you only blow up the bad guys, the good guys will ask you to blow up more stuff, and then you end up with a cult of personality."

"Hm." I thought about it for a moment. I couldn't fault her logic. "Pragmatisch, ja?" She chuckled, and nudged me on the shoulder.

I could feel the Thunderhead losing speed and altitude, and the raft took off using the inertia. It sailed over our heads and over the next few minutes descended with us to a point overlooking the city centre. From our spot I could make out the Manechester United and City grounds, some more stuff with my butt diagram slapped on it in Saltford, and a lot of the train and tram lines. The radio in our ears changed again, with the warbly tripe of Rule Braytannia giving way to static, and then the overdriven voice of Tribute.

"Guys, give us an update, over."

Grapevine got there first. "Beacon is planted and we're getting ready to book it, over."

Tribute laughed. "Technical military jargon, yeah?"

"Ah, good!" Stars was on the channel too. "My hoof was just hovering over the button."

"Love you too, Stars, over." I could do this radio thing too.

Grapevine continued the status update. "They shot down the Carolingian en route. Queen's taken a personal craft ahead of the Imperious, don't know why, over."

A couple of seconds of silence followed. "Say that first part again, over."

"They shot down the Carolingian en route, over."

"Their own vessel?"

I took over. "You are aware of how astronomically villainous the Enclave are, yeah? ... Over."

"I guess, but... wow. Doesn't matter. Just makes our job easier. Guns are ready to fire as soon as you guys are in the clear, over."

Grapevine nodded at me. "Should be done in time for lunch. Let's get out of here."

"Royal subjects and residents of Manechester!" The Queen's voice startled both of us. Some kind of amplification must have been at work, because we were getting it like we were standing next to a loudspeaker. They could probably hear her all the way in Saltford. "Today, I, Queen May the Twelfth, have seen fit to grace you all with my presence, for today is a very special occasion. You have heard my addresses on the radio; promises that the Grand Pegasus Enclave would come to lift us from the mire and begin a new dawn of civilisation. That day, my loyal subjects, has come! Today, we purify the wasteland!"

Grapevine nudged me. "Atom, we need to go." I thought about it for a moment, then I turned and ran back down the deck. "Not that way! Where are you going?" She didn't follow.

"Tribute, how long will the shell take to reach here? Over."

"About 45 seconds, why?"

"Grapevine, get the hell out of dodge. Tribute, fire on my mark."

Stars decided to be creepy again. "This big red button is looking awfully shiny, Atom..."

"Stars, give her some credit. What kind of collateral damage is she going to do from there? Over."

There was silence as I descended the stairs to the deck below, a large hangar. Pilots were getting into bombing chariots. "Fine. This better be good."

I went for a bombing chariot and pretended to be the pilot. I was quite obviously not in pilot's gear, but I was hoping that the techies wouldn't notice in their rush. Grapevine called in. "I just dropped out of stealth in the Breecham tower, and... we can hear bagpipes down here. Should we be concerned? Over."

As soon as the technicians started looking at me suspiciously, I kicked the tail gunner off the chariot and jumped behind the yoke. All the bombing controls were in front of me, along with a few flight controls. Given the weight of the chariot, I was surprised how easily it moved. Living in a world full of magic is great sometimes. "Mark." Panic ensued in the hangar. A couple of chariots were already out, but my premature takeoff threw the others into disarray. Five seconds, and I was out of the bay with a couple of alarmed technicians trying to run after me. Fifteen seconds, and I heard a couple of gunshots. One pinged off my flank armour. That's gonna leave a bruise. Twenty-five seconds, and I wasn't as far down the launch strip as I wanted to be. A technician jumped in my way to try and get me to stop. I jumped for the first bit of lift, and just knocked him over. The thump sounded pretty awful. Thirty-five seconds. Still running. Forty, forty-one, forty-two and I just clear the launch bay. I dove a bit to get some speed, like the ones that had gone ahead of me seemed to be doing.

I counted forty-five and stopped, because I had to concentrate on not crashing now. About two seconds later, I heard explosions behind me. The Queen stopped her speech. They hit spikes of intensity every two seconds for another ten - they must be firing every gun on the base. "Hit confirmed!" Grapevine shouted. "Give it another round, same heading, over."

"Already reloading, over."

"Atom, what's your status?"

"Thinning out the... hang on." I pressed a couple of buttons. Bombs fell and hit... something. "Thinning out some of the bombers."

"Think you can hit the sky tanks?"

"Actually, my status is now rapidly losing altitude because I don't know how to control a bombing chariot, over." I think I heard Stars slam her head on the desk next to her radio. I unhitched myself from the chariot and started flapping backwards. The chariot continued into the ground and erupted in a fireball at the bottom of the Breecham tower. (Last chapter and I'm still dropping names, eh?) I hit the wall of the tower and lost control. I held my wings out for some kind of glide, but I was spinning, and there was no way I wasn't going to wipe out on the steps of Deansgait station.

While I was lying there groaning, things kept happening. "We're on the twentieth floor and we felt that, Atom, come in!"

"I'm okay! I'm okay." I picked myself up and wobbled around a bit, and decided to remove the helmet. Stealth was secondary now. Just as well, since Stars had changed the armour colours - the off-black was replaced with scuffed silver with some orange trim. I couldn't deny, I was loving the ego trip.

"All abweeergh for Piccafillillilllilllilly!" I blinked and rubbed my eyes. The tram had pulled up in the station, and was waiting there with an open door. I didn't think, I just ran for it. Well, more of a limp. I jumped up and kissed Tramway. She span her robotic head at me. "Sexual harassment of Stable-Tec employees and property will be met with vaporisation!"

I rolled my eyes. "Guh, everyone wants to kill me today. Just move, Tramway!"

I took the opportunity to catch my breath and pop a health potion. My radio was in my pocket, and when I checked, RFM was still auto-playing. I guess Tribute didn't get the chance to go back and change it. I left it on my seat while I took out the toaster and examined it. The music made a welcome change from the frantic military chatter in my ear and the sound of a second barrage ripping through the remains of the Imperious. Bet the Queen was regretting her decision to bomb her own ship now, eh? I popped some more Mint-Als out of boredom.

I'm not sure why I was fiddling with the toaster. I turned the timer to ten seconds and pulled the tray down. Nothing happened, so I guessed the tray was electric, for some retarded reason. I turned the timer back up to thirty, emptied my gun of the explosive darts, and wedged all of them in the tray. I guess I made myself a toaster time-bomb because I was bored, and with the battle saddle, I didn't need the darts. I reloaded my gun with the regular darts, because, why not?

After the first stop, Tramway went into obstacle-annihilation mode, and I heard the dull ­thumps of ponies getting hit by the cow catcher at high speed. I looked out the window. Raiders were running past the tram. I recognised the blue and white as Manechester City. They were definitely fleeing in a panic from something. I wasn't puzzled for long though, because the next body flung to the side by the Stable-Tec Obstruction Obliterator was slathered with blue body paint and had a kilt. When I turned off the radio, I could hear bagpipes. This made things interesting.

I hopped off the tram at Piccafilly Gardens. Any further and it would be dropping me right into the middle of the Scoltish horde. The station was opposite a café, and what might have been the last intact window in Manechester, until someone got thrown through it. I recognised the tux and the slicked back hair. Brosnan got right back up and leapt through the window. Now I had to see what was going on. I hopped over a dead raider (or dying, I think she groaned) and went inside.

Brosnan and a Scolt wearing a coal puppy fur on his head were brawling. They stopped when I walked in. "Oh, don't mind me, I'm just getting some breakfast. Carry on beating each other to a pulp." They stared at me for a second, then Brosnan elbowed the Scolt in the face. He stumbled back and wiped the blood from his nose.

"That's just like you, isn't it? Taking every cheap shot and backstab you can get."

"I got out of the horde while I could because I could see it was doomed! You're living in a dream world! You're not Siretanta! Learn your history!"

"History lies. We've come to rewrite it."

"You're deluded, brother."

"I have no brother!" He lunged at him, and they traded deflected blows for a few seconds, until the Scolt threw Brosnan again. He reached for a blade, but Brosnan kicked him in the head before he could reach it.

I picked my head up from checking the cupboards behind the counter. "You two are brothers? Wow. That's... that's intense." I plugged in the toaster and took out a battery. "Hey Houndy! Fetch!"

The battery bonked Siretanta on the head, and he glared at me. "I'm not actually a dog, you kn-" Brosnan took advantage of his distraction to swing a roundhouse kick at him, knocking him to the floor next to the counter. He dived on him, and while they were scuffling on the floor, I bolted for the exit. I counted out; twenty-eight, twenty-nine, ding. Seeing all of my darts go off at once was beautiful. The blasts synergised, and possibly ignited some gas tanks, because I felt the need to duck and cover. Maybe coffee was explosive? I don't know. Pre-war safety restrictions on things that can go boom seem to have been pretty lax. Either way, I settled their argument for them.

While I was reclaiming my darts from the smoking wreckage and tossing them into my pocket loose, I got back on the airwaves. "Scolts are making a move on the city, anyone got any ideas? Over."

Grapevine got on to me first. "Shit, really? We've got our hooves full trying to hold the tower. Enclave are attacking it on wing. Can we get some Vertibucks up?"

"No can do," Stars replied. "All our Bucks are grounded in Saltford. There air is just too busy."

Tribute got on next. "We're firing as fast as we can, but it's pot luck from out here! I'm surprised we haven't hit the tower yet."

I thought for a moment. "As a matter of curiosity, where's Full House?"

"Him and Lone Star are coordinating the militia on the Saltford side of the river. They're not on this channel, why?"

"Oh, is Lone Star a Garbageman too?"

Stars sighed. "Yes, Lone Star is a Regulator."

"Hm. I'm learning all kinds of shit today. Okay, I've got a plan. Grapevine, how fast can you withdraw from the tower?"

There was an explosion on the radio. "We're probably going to have to do that anyway, I wouldn't put it past them to crash a Raptor into us if we give them enough trouble. Maybe ten minutes?"

"Get on that. Stars, get them to start blowing bridges, the one closest to the tower last."

"Why? They can just fly over!"

"The Scolts can't."

"Oh."

"And Grapevine, those balefire eggs?"

"Yeah?"

"One every two hundred feet along the bank on the Manechester side, rigged for simultaneous remote detonation."

"When?"

I chuckled. "You'll know when." There was silence on the radio. A Scolt ran past my window on fire and screaming. "Now unless you've got a better plan, let's move!"

My attention was caught by a scream of rising volume. Not a pained scream, more like a charging warcry. On the other side of the café, someone was charging at the back door from across the green. (Well it was more of a brown now, but that's beside the point.) His face was caked in paint, half blue, half white, and he had a spear saddle. Yep, that could only be Bravehorse. His early cry gave me a full five seconds to step out of the door and take to the air. He skidded to a halt outside the café and started jumping at me like a dog trying to catch a treat suspended in the air.

"You! You filthy Roaman!"

"Excuse me, you live in a tent and don't have running water, and you call me filthy?" He jumped and batted at the air rabidly. I raised an eyebrow at him, and flew away. He charged after me.

"Hey! Come back! I'll put your head on a pike by my toilet!"

This side of Manechester was mostly the melee between raiders and Scolts. Despite the raiders having maybe one gun between three, they were still being overrun, and they didn't have anywhere to rout to. The Enclave were probably dominating everywhere south of the tower by now. I proceeded along the street at a leisurely airborne pace. I could faintly hear Bravehorse swearing at me as he tried to keep up. The other fighters on the ground just ignored me for whatever reason. They weren't looking up, I wasn't attacking them, they had more important things to worry about, I don't know. I passed a broken sign hanging precariously over an outdoor escalator saying 'Arndam Food Court'. So this was the Arndam? I landed at the top of the escalator to give my wings a rest. While I was walking through, I found Taco Belle. I didn't stop to check it out. I left through the broken window on the other side and continued in flight.

I reached the river and flew along it until I found a cluster of militia. They had all kinds of banners and flags with my atom mark on them, and crude armour painted orange and green. Heh. Children of Atom. That still made me giggle. House and Lone Star stuck out like coal puppies on a dairy farm with their hats and dusters. I touched down near them and grabbed a tall flag. It had a spike on the end. Perfect.

"Mind if I borrow this?"

"Where are you g-" I left before House could finish his sentence.

"I have the flag!" I shouted into the radio. Confused noises came back.

Backtracking, I found the street I'd joined the river from, and charged back down it, spike end of the flagpole pointed forwards. Still on my Mint-Als high, I could pick out Bravehorse rooting around in the Arndam food court looking for me. I dove a bit for some extra speed and beat my wings once to get extra lift, and came in through the window. He had about time to turn his head before the flagpole connected. He was a big lad, and there was enough inertia to throw me off the flag, even as it went right through his abdomen. I tumbled across the food court, and landed on my front by the top of the escalator.

I stood up and coughed, winded. I started walking over to reclaim my flag, when he stirred and got back up. Fucking hell! He was on his feet quicker than I could get to him (fuck being winded), and I backed up, wings outstretched. Just to put on a show of being a badass, he reached around and pulled the flagpole out of his own body. He was leaking pretty badly, but the smirk on his face told me he just didn't care. He said some stuff at me in that language they had that I didn't understand, probably something about me killing his wife and stuff. He charged at me. I took a quick glance at the escalator behind me. Not the brightest chap, was he? At the last moment, I jumped out of his way and into a hover just outside, shouting "Toro!" He continued off the escalator and tumbled down. He rolled head over heels all the way to the bottom. His spear got thrust from its saddle on the way down and hit the sign. He stopped rolling at the very bottom, lying on his stomach with his neck outstretched. The sign rattled, and finally, centuries-old screws failed, and the sign slid off its posts.

Then Bravehorse had no head.

I didn't stick around to mess with the body, which I really would have liked to do, because there was still a battle going on. I went back for my flag, wiped the bits of Scolt off and checked in on the radio. "Grapevine, how's the evac going?"

"We took some losses in the retreat, but we've got the last of us across. Most of the bridges are gone. What have you been doing?"

"Oh, just killing time in the food court while you guys do your thing. Also killing Bravehorse. In the food court." Tribute cheered. "I'll be over to help rig the eggs. Once the last bridge is gone, the Scolts will be penned in and the Enclave will mop up them and the last of the raiders."

"And then?"

"Big finish."

We stood on the bank waiting for about half an hour. On my instruction, the militia had organised into a narrow column by the last bridge blown. The guns at Formby kept shooting, and the Enclave air presence thinned out by pure attrition to a raptor and a couple of chariots milling about with no bombs left. They took the tower and went to the trouble of tearing down our banner to let us know they'd taken it. The guns then demolished the tower.

House found me admiring the flag I'd taken. "So, tell me again, Atom, how is this supposed to stop the Enclave?"

"It isn't. Breathmint?" I offered him one of the last two Mint-Als. I'd been popping them like skittles. He shook his head.

Grapevine leaned over. "I'll take one."

We were standing where the bridge with the weird road to nowhere was (remember that, yeah? I bet you don't.) Eventually, a party assembled on the opposite bank. Enclave soldiers lined up, battle saddles at the ready. Most of them were splattered with blood. A few had City crests or shreds of tartan as trophies. They weren't shooting. The line parted, and a cloud litter came to the crest of the bank. Queen May XII sprawled on her throne, her golden armour just as blood-splattered. She quirked her brow.

"See? You're good subjects. You come quietly."

I spotted House going to move his mouth. I stopped him. "No one-liners. Just cards. You have got cards, right?" He turned his left hoof. Empty. In his right, there was one. "Make it count."

"Do be kind and maintain that file while we shoot you? It would be most..." She rolled her hoof in the air looking for the word. "... bothersome of you to do the running and screaming thing. We've had quite enough of that." She floated out a handkerchief and wiped some of the blood off her armour.

In one of the quickest motions I've ever seen, House flicked his leg in the air. The yellow card arced around and hit the horn in the middle. The whole thing popped off. There was no blood. The Queen patted her bare forehead. "Is... is my horn off?" The horn continued to glow, even stuck in the back of the throne. A unicorn poked her head out from behind the throne, with a bomb collar and the same colour magic as the fake horn. The soldiers looked at each other and at the throne. I clapped my forelegs, span on a hind one and slammed a hoof on the plunger behind me.

The whole opposite bank erupted in flame. It was probably an unhealthy blast of radiation for us, because we were close enough to feel some of the heat, but it was a calculated risk. It was also far less heat and radiation than the Enclave line took. At a guess, about half of their remaining troops in Manechester were on that bank, and now they'd been incinerated. Best atoms I'd ever smashed.

A couple of seconds later, there was a conspicuous splash in the river. Completely disregarding my own safety, I ambled over with my flag. Steam bubbled from the water. I waited. Maybe thirty seconds later, a golden hoof lurched from the water. The next minute was a horror show of a pony crawling up the bank and gasping for air. The Queen's face was burned almost beyond recognition. One cheek was completely missing, there was a deep, cauterised cut on her nose, and a substantial amount of her hair had burned away. She was shuddering as she climbed. She stopped from exhaustion and pain, and I put down the head of the flagpole in front of her face. She grunted, then looked up at me. I was standing on my hind legs, holding the flagpole like a golf club.

"Fore!"

The Vertibucks made short work of the remaining Enclave, and soon the Steel Rangers moved in to secure the city again. House and Lone Star were trying to find bits of the Queen to claim as bounties, and argued about how they were going to cross the river to loot Bravehorse's corpse. Fucking Garbagemen. I sat at the broken end of one of the bridges, waiting out my Mint-Als high.

"Atom?"

I slowly turned. Shooting Stars was there. "Come to lecture me about murder some more?"

She allowed herself a chuckle. "No. It's kind of weird in a way, but I actually want to thank you."

I blinked. "I appear to have died in battle at some point. Did you just say you want to thank me?"

"You could say I've learned a few... methods from you."

"Like?"

"Like..." She floated out the trigger for the bomb collar. I went wide-eyed. She flicked the cap, waited until I was good and panicked, then jammed a hoof on the button. Nothing happened. "There never was a bomb collar."

Once I realised that I wasn't dead, I sat back and frowned. I reached into my pocket for my gun. I was pretty practiced at it by now, so cocking and firing in the space of half a second was no problem. She squealed and covered her head. A dart bounced off her horn and rolled away. When she realised she wasn't dead, she stood up and blinked. I emptied the other five regular darts at her just to be annoying. She picked one up and frowned. I laughed.

"I didn't learn anything."

Level up! New perk: Apocalypse Ain't Got Nothing On Me

You gain a damage bonus against everything, because you like killing everything.

Now that you've completed the game, keep an eye out for the DLC!

TRAIN SIMULATOR 2299: With the deregulation of the railways after the war, the Steel Rangers and Enclave are competing to rebuild Braytain's railway infrastructure and take the lion's share of wasteland transport revenue. Travel to Croup, the centre of the railway universe, and shape the future of public transport by hook or by crook! Wow that one sounds really boring

STRICTLY COME WASTELAND: Turn on the lights and warm up the dance floor, because it's time for Balkpool's annual dance festival! The world may have ended, but the party sure didn't stop! I don't have any objections to this but unless it's run by raiders and the losers die I'm not sure how this fits with the rest of them

STEEL RADIATIOR: The Saddlefield nuclear waste facility has always been saturated with radiation, but since the balefire fell, it's only gotten worse. Even the Scolts knew better than to go here. But when a mysterious individual hires you to retrieve a valuable item from deep within the facility, you suit up and brave the atomic horrors of Saddlefield for fun and profit! This had better be one hell of an offer because this just sounds flat-out dangerous

PIRATES OF, UM, AMBLESEY: The wild north Whelsh coast only got wilder after the war, with clans of raiders taking to the seas to pillage the settlements on the shores! Will you curb the corsairs or join forces with them for ever greater plunder? Pirates? I am fucking there!

THE END

Author's Notes:

There's a comment I was asked to stick to the end of the story, but in hindsight it's pretty harsh, so I'll link the original and explain it here in more neutral terms.

If you enjoyed the fic on its own merit, then fantastic. Though truth be told, if I was writing this fic to stand up just on its own merit, it'd be a little different. House would probably be cut, and the story would focus a lot more on the friction between Atom and Stars, ending in some kind of mutual growth through their experiences. Some characters would be more relevant, others less so, I might have spent more than five minutes each giving the villains character and texture. and everything would just be less schizophrenic (though part of that is going to be a result of the NaNoWriMo anyway).

Though, consider again the story with reflection to the original Fallout Equestria, if you didn't spot the parallels already. A lot of the main characters and events of Duck and Cover are carefully constructed to highlight some of the follies of the original. If you want the comparisons whipped out for you check out the above-linked comment, but if you're content to consider the implications of this observation without further prompt, good for you.