Fallout Equestria: Insanity's Flight
By Storm128

Interlude I: Identity

I prefer to get my information from more reliable sources, like rumor and small children.

Six Months Before The Destruction of The Cloud Layer

Captain Golden Sunrise trotted briskly through the cloud marble halls of the EIW headquarters, her hooves passing over the seemingly-solid surface with a gentle whisper. Enormous grooved pillars stood at regular intervals, running the entirety of the hall's length. The walls on either side proudly displayed the portraits of famous military pegasi, both pre and post war. The ceiling above arched up to meet a thin layer of cloud, letting in an abundance of natural sunlight.

Dozens of doors lined either side of the hallway, and each had a series of strange, illegible blue symbols floating in midair before them. One of the standard defense mechanisms the EIW employed. Only somepony invited could locate their destination.

She absently rubbed a hoof against a series of bruises along the right side of her face, trying to relieve some of the ache emanating from Stab’s blow. Her right eye had swollen shut, and her golden coat was marred with unsightly purple splotches.

Golden avoided the stoic gazes of the agents passing by, striving to not be ensnared in their alien expressions. Those not in their custom, gold-striped power armor all wore similar, dark grey suits with matching ties. Their eyes seemed permanently cemented straight ahead, and yet the captain felt like every one of them was watching her.

There was always something… unnerving about EIW pegasi. She could never quite place it, but the presence of even one agent always seemed to chill a room. So it was no surprise that being the only non-agent in the building would set even the most battle-hardened soldiers on edge.

Eventually the Captain came to halt. The door before her looked just as unremarkable as the rest, and it wasn’t even placed in a position of seemingly any importance. What stood out, however, was that the symbols floating before it were legible, and it simply stated, “Director.”

Golden stared at the door for several seconds, taking deep breaths as she tried to calm the thundering in her chest. She’d far rather face off against Stab again than enter, but she knew her orders. With the cool weight of dread settling across her shoulders, she placed a hoof on the white door. A cascade of blue sparkles erupted above, shimmering in the sunlight like fine diamonds as they slowly descended. They flashed through several degrees of intensity before dispersing. With the sound of a gentle breeze, the door slid open.

Inside was the complete antithesis of the scenery of the hallway. The simple, square room was completely cloaked in shadow, and barren of any sign of furniture or decor. As Golden stepped inside, the entrance snapped shut. The room was doused in darkness, and causing the mare to jump forward in surprise. As she recovered her composure, a subtle whirring began to emanate from one of the walls.

As the sound stopped, it was quickly replaced by the piercing tone of a monitor powering on, and the room was suddenly awash with a blinding green light. Golden cried out and placed a hoof before her eyes, trying to shield them from the assaulting glow. As they slowly began to adjust, she could make out that the wall before her had opened, and an enormous screen had lain beyond.

The image before her was simple, a light green background with a darker shade outlining a pony’s silhouette as they sat behind a large desk. Scan lines ran horizontally across the image, and it was periodically interrupted by a burst of static.

“Good evening, Captain,” a computer-modulated voice rang out. The volume was almost painful, but the actual pony behind it sounded quite calm.

“D-Director,” Golden sputtered as she snapped a salute.

“What happened, Golden?” the voice spoke again, blunt in its asking, yet still retaining the same degree of calm.

“W-W-well, Director, it was- um- what I mean…” she trailed off as the right words escaped her, her fear of this pony overrunning every waking thought.

“It’s alright,” the voice continued, “just tell me what happened.”

She gulped, trying to swallow the terror that would undoubtedly color her response, “We were successful in capturing Stab-”

“Forgive me if that doesn’t seem to be the case,” the voice interrupted.

“Yes, well, w-what I mean is… we were successful in bringing him aboard the Eclipse?” she corrected herself, hoping the answer would satisfy the mysterious pony. She took the resulting silence as having accomplished just that. “Once onboard, General Derecho proceeded with the interrogation-”

“Or, some may say, gloating,” the pony interrupted again.

“Of course, Director, that is a much more accurate description,” Golden swiftly responded. “During the… gloating, it became very apparent that Stab was far more in control of the situation than we had initially anticipated. He was aware of certain… facts about General Derecho. Things some wastelander would never have known. Not to mention he should have had no idea that we, specifically, were coming after him.”

“He wanted to be captured,” the Director said, no question in their tone.

“That seems to be the case,” the Captain agreed. “He knew the exact layout of the Eclipse, where the general’s quarters were located, as well as his egress. Nopony outside of the Enclave… hell outside of the military would be able to know everything he did.”

“So we can only conclude that someone within the Enclave assisted him.”

“Yes, Director.”

“This is out of your hooves now, Captain,” the voice continued. “My agents will handle that part of the investigation from here.”

“Of course, Director,” Golden sighed, relieved at the removal of responsibility.

“However, none of this is exactly good news, wouldn’t you agree?”

“N-no, Director,” the Captain stuttered, her fear returning. “B-but there is more.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” she replied quickly, almost tumbling over her words as she spoke. “We believe to have a positive match on this Stab’s identity. He has a file.”

“He’s had run-ins with the Enclave before?”

“Quite a bit more than that,” Golden answered. “Apparently we initiated first contact with him roughly six years ago.”

“And what was the purpose?”

“Well, Director, this is where it got a bit murky, and where you or your agency may be able to fill in some of the blanks,” the mare stated warily.

“I’m listening.”

“The vast majority of his file has been redacted, but he was apparently a very sought after target. We’d been tracking him for almost four years but then the file just sort of… ends,” she explained. “From what I’ve been able to research, he was in the company of an Enclave pegasus. Attempted contact between her and Thunderhead was what brought Stab onto our radar.”

“A pegasus?” the Director inquired. “Presumably a Dashite.”

“That was my first assumption as well,” Golden answered. “But I can’t seem to find any record of who she might have been. No entry on the Dashite registry matches her description and, of course, her name has been redacted. The last known contact between Enclave forces and Stab’s companion seems to be where his file ends, and I can’t find any other information on her. If she was indeed a member of the Enclave, then every trace of her existence has been erased.”

“What was the purpose of the last contact?”

“It was roughly two years ago, and the report only states asset retrieval.”

“Two years ago…” the Director mused. “You said you had positively identified Stab. Does it list another name?”

“Yes Director,” Golden affirmed. “He used to go by Venture Forth.”

Silence answered the Captain, drawing out into an insufferably uncomfortable length. “You are certain of this?” the Director finally asked and, even through the voice modulation, Golden could hear worry chipping at the pony’s demeanor.

“Our analysis assures at least ninety percent accuracy between this Venture Forth and eyewitness accounts from Stab’s excursion on the Eclipse,” she acknowledged.

“Then our situation has become significantly more complicated,” the voice responded instantly. “Captain, I will be informing your superiors that, for the immediate future, you will assisting the EIW with a crucial investigation. When Captain Mint Leaf is up to the task, she will join you.”

“Why us, Director?”

“Aside from the fact that you are two of the only soldiers to have come into contact with Stab and lived to tell the tale, it is because the results of the coming days shall doubtless ripple through every corner of our society. The very future of our people hangs in the balance, and Venture Forth may prove an adequate enough disturbance to tip it. I must ensure that the blowback is as harmless as possible. To that end, relatively informed representatives on all levels of government will soon be imperative.”

“What’s happening, Director,” Golden questioned, no longer able to endure the mystery. “Who is Venture Forth? Why is he such a major concern?”

“I would also like for you to enlist the aid of Lieutenant Lavender Star,” the screen continued, pointedly ignoring the question. “Her personal stake in Stab’s capture will soon prove to be invaluable. She will be a crucial asset in your investigation.”

“But I thought your agents were-”

“They will handle uncovering Stab’s Enclave contact,” the Director interrupted. “But you will be compiling as much information as possible on both his identity and his pegasus companion. You will create a report that I shall personally… edit for clarity. This will then be presented to the High Council, ensuring we have all the resources we require.”

“I already told you I couldn’t find any-”

“You will be given access to non-redacted copies of the files you perused,” the voice stated, bowling over the mare’s objection once again. “Additionally, I can identify the pegasus in question. That should ease the burden significantly.”

“Who is she?”

“She was a martyr, and it would be for the benefit of the entire Enclave that her reputation remained as such.” Another stretch of quiet strung together the statements, “Her name was Crescent Harmony.”

A flurry of loud thumps echoed through the gym. The punching bag’s suspending chains jangled incessantly as it arced toward the ceiling, reached its apex, and plummeted back toward the respiring mare.

Lavender tensed her rear legs, focus locked on the swiftly approaching weight. Just before it slammed into her, the Lieutenant’s wings twitched almost imperceptibly and both rear legs swung forward in an instant. The collision boomed around the empty space and the bag was sent flying once more. Lavender followed through with the strike, flipping her legs up before settling into a ready pose. A strained creak resounded from the chains as another hearty slam marked it crashing against the roof.

It sped back, faster than before. This time Lavender leapt into the air, snapped out her wings, and flapped vigorously. Her legs straightened and dangled against the force of lift. Another twitch of her wings set her body spinning, the momentum straining the outstretched limbs. She put the entirety of her weight behind the blow as her rear hooves smashed into the bag like a pair of sledgehammers.

A shriek of strained metal rang out as the bolt ripped out of the roof, and the canvas sack sailed into a rack of weights on the other side of the room. Raucous clangs echoed as dumbbells scattered, shattering mirrors, breaking machines, and one speeding right back toward Lavender. She held her ground, not even flinching as the hexagonal ingot clipped her just beneath the eye.

The jagged wound bled profusely, trailing down her cheeks and splattering against the matted flooring. Her lungs heaved, and her muscles howled from the exertion. Had she been going an hour? Two? Time had become somewhat immaterial in the empty, darkened gym. Unless one could gauge its passage from the four other punching bags now dispersed haphazardly around the space.

Drilling herself like this brought on pleasing moments of nostalgia, her mind wandering back to basic. Enduring the rigorous onslaught of Sergeant Gale Force’s training alongside her best friends… and Violet.

It almost proved an adequate distraction, but her thoughts always returned to that operating room. Her baby sister… the blood… the life fading from her body.

Letting her killer escape.

A burning sorrow licked at the corner of her eyes as wet trails conjoined with crimson, the cocktail of misery further staining the floor. Lavender ground her teeth and sealed her eyelids, futilely attempting to stem the unyielding tide. A choked sob escaped her, finally cracking the stoic shell she’d been constructing.

“You know,” a familiar mare’s voice called out, “this stuff ain’t cheap to replace.”

The Lieutenant snapped to attention, attempting to camouflage her sorrowful outburst. She found Golden Sunrise at the door, her face locked in grim condolence. “What do you want?”

She didn’t respond immediately, just slowly made her way into the room before taking a seat by Lavender. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that it?” the despondent mare snapped.

Again she was met with silence, the pair stewing within the lachrymose awkwardness. “When’s the service?” the Captain finally asked.

“Why do you care?” Lavender murmured gruffly, but eventually sighed in defeat. The energy necessary for her bitterness was no longer worth exerting. “Tomorrow.”

“Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

She shook her head, “No. I’d just make things worse.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t see it that way,” Golden replied encouragingly.

“Well it helps that I don’t really care how they feel, now doesn’t it?” Lavender barked, standing up and stomping over to one of the bench presses.

She tapped several buttons on the automated system, adding recklessly enormous weights to the bar. Lying supine across the thin padding, she fitted both hooves into the cuffs and began the repetitious hoisting.

“Ok, I’ve tried being sympathetic and clearly that’s not working,” Golden said exasperatedly. She stood over Lavender, staring down at her like a spotter. “If you’re so desperate to run away from reality, maybe I can at least steer you in a productive direction.”

“What… are you… yammering… about?” Lavender grunted, continuing with her reps.

Golden rolled her eyes before slamming both hooves down onto the barbell. The enormous weight crashed back toward Lavender until it caught itself on the safety bar. It had narrowly avoided crushing the Lieutenant’s throat, but was close enough to keep her pinned. “I’m talking about going after the son of a bitch that killed your sister.”

Lavender glared daggers at the other mare, briefly pondering some cutting retort. Instead, she fell into a stoic silence.

“I spoke with the Director of the EIW a few hours ago,” the Captain continued once she was assured there would be no further interruptions. “They expressed their desire for you to join a task force alongside Mint Leaf and myself-”

“Not interested,” Lavender interjected, not able to contain the remark. “Although I do wish you luck in applying for another officer’s vacant cockwarmer position. That is where you two excel.”

“Another slut joke, how scathing,” Golden replied boredly. “I don’t like this anymore than you. Personally, I’d just like to be reassigned and block out the last few days as quickly as possible. But I think we both know that a request from the Director isn’t exactly optional.”

“Then they can come down here and ask me themselves,” Lavender snapped.

“Unless your grief cycle somehow includes running for High Councilmare, we both know that isn’t happening,” Golden finally released the bar and began circling the Lieutenant. “Are you really going to be this Goddess-damned obtuse? I am serving up every vengeful fuck’s wet dream on a silver platter here. We can go after your sister’s murderer with the backing of the most technologically advanced military in Equestrian history, and you’re planning to just sit there and pout?” The Captain threw her front hooves up in exasperation before turning toward the door, “Nevermind, I’m done. Should have known little miss meticulous routine couldn’t possibly go far enough outside of her comfort zone to actually make a difference.” She craned about, meeting Lavender’s conflicted gaze, “Not even for her own family.”

“Wait!” Lavender shouted, pushing up the bar and bounding after Golden. The Captain stopped, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “What… what would I have to do?”

A pleased smile graced Golden’s lips, “First would be helping us with a few clerical issues here in Thunderhead. We have to ensure the High Council has nothing to offer us but their most heartfelt blessing. Then, well…” Golden trailed off in a sinister chuckle, “then we track down that piece of shit, and you get to have a nice, long, private conversation with him.”

“I think I like the sound of that.”

“I thought you might,” Golden purred. “Well, first things first,” she dropped a manila envelope in front of Lavender, motioning for her to inspect it.

Eyebrows furrowed, Lavender began scanning over the enclosed documents. A series of scouting reports detailing surface expeditions dating back several years, primarily focussed on the Marejave. The Lieutenant’s analytical instincts took over as she read, knitting together their related information into a coherent narrative.

“You believe Stab is actually this Venture Forth,” Lavender announced. “A wastelander with… no obvious unique qualities. At least nothing that would warrant this level of observation, save for his association with an unnamed pegasus. Four years of reports on the pair’s activity in the desert, with every scouting party in the area having it made a primary objective to monitor them. Is that about right?”

Golden’s eyes widened in shocked approval, “Impressive as always, Lieutenant. Yes, that was my understanding as well.”

“It doesn't make any sense,” Lavender stated matter-of-factly, tossing the envelope back to the floor.

“In what regard?”

“These ‘scouting reports’ are nothing but lies. Believe me, after you’ve dealt with a few dozen recruits dropping their power armor off a cloud, and knowing they’d rather chop of a wing then admit it, you start to pick up on doctored requisition forms.” She indicated a few of the reports, “Expended ammunition is all within margin of error for the average scouting mission, not strange by itself seeing as how even a lot of veteran troops don’t exactly count their shots like they should be. However ‘lost equipment’ seems to conveniently include a good number of spark batteries, replacement weaponry, munitions, etcetera. The sort of equipment usage one would expect from an assault team. These weren’t scouting missions, they were tactical strikes.”

“Tactical strikes?” Golden deadpanned.

“Obviously nothing about him warrants that kind of attention, so there has to be something incredible about this pegasus,” the Lieutenant pondered.

“Well she’s never named in any of the EIW’s files, but the Director at least gave me that. It’s Crescent Harmony.”

“Wait, the psychologist?” Lavender inquired.

“You know her?”

“I’m surprised you don’t,” the Lieutenant huffed. “It was all anypony was talking about… what? Six years ago?”

“Enlighten me,” Golden instructed.

“You know about the rumblings for this ‘Volunteer Corps’ nonsense, right? A bunch of eye-in-the-sky pegasi looking to rid the surface of raiders and slavers through peace, love and understanding?”

“The suicidal philanthropists? Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, this Crescent Harmony is basically one of the bannermares for it… at least symbolically. Six years ago she accompanied a scouting regiment down to the surface. She actually wanted to see about getting a slaver on her couch for a full on psychoanalysis.”

“Gee, I wonder how ponies raised in a radioactive hellscape could turn out a little bit screwed up?” Golden commented sarcastically.

“Same, but back then there was a pretty vocal group that wanted to encourage more philanthropic expeditions to the surface. Crescent Harmony wanted to show that such a journey was even possible. Then…” Lavender trailed off.

“Then what?”

“Then she and every one of her escorts were wiped out by the first group of raiders they tried to make contact with. At least that’s what the military wire reported.”

“Wait, if she was killed the same day she got down there, how could it be her in these scouting reports? Why does the Director want us to compile all this information on her?”

“Those are the real questions,” Lavender intoned. “If what the Director said is true then Crescent Harmony didn’t die, at least not at the time or place that was given to the public. Not only that, but her death was what reinforced the High Council’s feelings about contact with the wasteland. It shut down any talk of sending aid to the surface, and set the Volunteer Corps’ efforts back years. It was even the centerpoint of Councilmare Drizzling Skies’s election campaign. Her isolationist policies didn’t gain a lot of traction with voters of the time until Crescent Harmony’s death. After that, she won in a landslide.”

“Drizzling Skies? Derecho’s mother?” the Captain asked.

“The very same,” Lavender answered.

“This… this is turning out to be a lot more complicated than I thought it would,” Golden said dazedly, rubbing a hoof along her temple.

“Nothing is simple when the EIW is involved,” the Lieutenant stated. “I don’t know what we’ve stumbled into here, but it’s significantly more complex than some surfacer psychopath with a bone to pick.” Lavender snatched up the documents and began heading out of the gym, “If we’re planning to catch Stab and make him answer for his crimes, then we’ve got a pretty big web to untangle first.”

Golden began to follow, “So what’s the plan?”

“Like you said, clerical work. When we have the resources and funding to actually go after him, then we can start identifying who all was involved.” Lavender’s brow scrunched up in focussed anger, “If it turns out that Stab was just the gun, and somepony up here pulled the trigger, then I’ll be damned sure they have to answer as well.”

She locked gazes with the other mare, the intensity of the stare halting the Captain mid-step, “Nopony who had a hoof in this will be walking away.”

Including me, she thought to herself.