The girls approached the entrance to the city, in front of which stood several guards in various types of armour, from armoured Vault jumpsuits to riot police gear.

"Stop right there," one of them raised his hand, its palm facing the group, "guns away or you'll be in for a world of hurt."

Other guards made menacing movements, indicating that they were not joking at all.

"Alright," Twilight said hesiattingly, putting her weapon back. Everyone except Applejack followed suit.

"Sorry, fella, not like Ah can just put it behind me," she explained as the guards gave her a pointed look.

"Release the magazine and put it away, then," the guard who made them stop said, his tone brokering no objections. Applejack pulled the lever, releasing the heavy box, and hung it onto her armour.

"Alright, ladies," the guard continued, "which outfit are you with? I thought Brotherhood of Steel at first, but the lass in the iron box doesn't look like the leader, and you two," he pointed at Twilight and Sunset, "are dressed in Commissariat-grade combat armour, which is rare enough, and only a few factions here have them. And the lass with an MSR-90 behind her back looks like a scout-sniper from the war. So, again, which outfit are you with?"

"Our own," Sunset answered candidly.

"Really?" The guard snorted. "You wanna say you looted all the stuff you have from somewhere? Ain't buying that."

"How come?" Twilight said.

"Too easy of a lie to tell."

"How about we had some help from friends of ours and we inherited their stuff when they died?"

"Inherited a suit of T-72d power armour?" the guard laughed. "That Brotherhood friend of yours must've been an idiot."

"No," Applejack said, "he was exiled. Unfairly, Ah might add."

"Hmm? And Brotherhood's not on your tail now?"

"Let's say we resolved the conflict," Twilight interrupted. "Anyway, I reiterate - we're our own outfit."

"Let's pretend I believe ya. Entrance fee is fifty caps each."

The girls rummaged around in their pockets, fishing out the "fee" set by the guard. The man recounted the caps, nodded and said:

"OK, you can come in. Since I've never seen you, I'll give some general advice. Don't go into any back alleys unarmed, there are a lot of two-bit muggers. There are areas controlled by Ivy Mortis' goons, by McColts and by no one in general."

"How do we tell which area belongs to which gang?" Applejack inquired.

"You can distinguish them by gang marks - Ivy Mortis has a black rose as her symbol, while McColts have a stallion standing on hind legs. McColts do not let anyone except their own into their area, so stay away from them. Ivy's guys - they are also known as Cleaners, for whatever reason - generally let you come in, but they also charge a fee and have their own rules on bearing arms. They can tell you more. In other areas, just do whatever you like, as long as you're ready to face the consequences. That's all."

"Thanks," Sunset said.

"No need to, lass. Welcome to Marehoof."

Marehoof was a settlement that had no real governing body of its own, existing in a state of semi-stable anarchy. The people were not really willing to butt into each other's businesses as long as no one butted into theirs, which allowed the town to maintain some semblance of order.

The locals made a living on selling whatever the merchants wanted or needed while being on the way deeper into Western Canterlot Wastelands or going in the opposite direction of the Northern Canterlot Wastelands. Since Marehoof was conveniently located on the trade route between northern and western regions of the wastes, it allowed the city to flourish - by the post-apocalyptic standards, at least.

In reality, that meant that in Marehoof, there were still intact buidings (none having more than five floors), electricity and even running water in "hotels" that proudly declared themselves "luxurious". That meant that the beds were relatively clean and bugs-free, and that the prices would be overblown.

Despite the risk of contracting some disease from the bed bugs, though, the demand for such "luxury" has never subsided, which allowed the people running the places to keep the overinflated prices at their current level.

The girls and Spike managed to find a "hotel" in a three-storey building that was relatively undamaged by bullets and had a more or less reasonable price. They paid for the room and brought their luggage there. Rarity decided to have a small rest, and Applejack left her power armour suit to conserve energy, thus remaining badly protected - due to the form of T-72d power armour, the only extra armour she could wear while inside was a light armour vest - and decided not to stick out, so Twilight and Sunset went down to the bar. The bartender, a rather portly but kind man, gave them two bottles of Nuka-Cider and told them about the history of Marehoof.

As it turned out, Marehoof was not always called like that. Before the apocalypse, it was a closed town known as Hoofstep-237, unaccessible to anyone but those working at RobCo, Vault-Tec and Future-Tec facilities (or the offices in Maretonia) and their families, as well as some military and NSC personnel. When the Day of Burning arrived, the town inhabitants were evacuated in an unknown direction, since the radiation cloud was on its way to Hoofstep-237. Fortunately, the town suffered only a glancing hit, and when radiation levels around the area dropped faster than expected and it became relatively safe to walk on the surface again, people inhabited the place again. Someone had found a part of a road sign that had the barely visible letters "HOOF" on it, and since the town was located near the remains of Maretonia, the place became known as "Marehoof".

The people were not interested in setting up any kind of government, so everyone basically did what they wanted. This normally would be a recipe for disaster, but those who arrived here were mostly traders or their paid security, and they were more interested in gaining extra caps than fighting, so while the city saw its share of fighting, it was on a smaller scale.

Over time, though, the situation changed, and the town became infested with gangs. While most were small fries - mostly junkies and petty criminals looking for a quick cap - and bothered almost none of the traders (the guards shot first and asked questions never), the arrival of McColts and Ivy Mortis' Cleaners changed everything. Two gangs carved a portion of the town each for their control, and for a short time, a bloody fight occurred between Cleaners and McColts, but both sides switched to ceasefire rather quickly. As such, one third of Marehoof belonged to Cleaners, one quarter to McColts, and others were independent - sort of, since Cleaners took care to get most of the shops selling important items like weapons, ammo, armour and so on under their proverbial hoof, thus forcing others to pay them off if they wanted access to those shops. As for McColts, they set up the area they controlled as their own base, forcing the inhabitants to pay "protection fees" and mowing down those that were unwilling or unable to pay. Moreover, they did not allow outsiders, making their territory a forbidden zone.

"So basically," Twilight asked after a gulp of Nuka-Cider, "we cannot walk into McColts' territory, we can walk into Cleaners' territory if we pay a fee and we can freely walk in other areas?"

"Sort of," the bartender said. "You can walk in McColts' territory if you're sneaky enough, of course, but if they see you, they'll shoot at you and swarm the area like radroaches, so you're quite likely to get shot. If you're captured, they will try to interrogate you, and they're very... creative with their torture. It's way easier if you just don't stick your nose in there. Same with Cleaners if you're too greedy or can't pay them off. And other areas are full of two-bit gangs, so you'd better not find yourself in side alleys there alone and without weapons and armour."

"Noted. Thanks for the advice," Sunset replied.

"You're welcome. We don't wanna lose potential customers. That means loss of caps."

Ah, so he cares more about caps than customers, the unicorn-turned-human thought wryly.

"There's one other thing I am curious about," Twilight spoke up. "We want to get to Freemare, but we have little idea which path to take. We know of Route 25 and of the path locally known as Little Pony's Walk, but no matter how much we asked, we can't get info that would help us choose one of the two."

"Probably because both paths are quite fucked up, especially for small warbands like yours," the bartender replied. "Honestly, I think that your group would better find a caravan to Freemare and stick to it, although the merchants would most likely use you as a walking target - that is, go far enough away from you and if they see your corpses, there is a trap. You can try hiring yourselves out as guards, but few, if any, work with independents - it's either Crimson Hands or some Cleaners they stick to."

"Crimson Hands are here?"

"Yes, in fact, it is said their HQ is here in Western Wastelands somewhere. Why, what's the problem?"

"We have bad blood between us, that's all I'm going to say."

"No prob. I don't wanna know whom you'd piss off that they would want to hire Crimson Hands to get rid of you. Although, I don't think you should have any trouble with them here - if they're caravan escorts, that's all they are and they won't try to kill you even if there's a contract on you and you happen to be near the same caravan as they are."

"I'll take your word for it. I've had enough of those mercs to last me a lifetime. And you mentioned Cleaners?"

"Yes, some of them also do caravan escort jobs. Ivy Mortis doesn't care as long as they give up a part of caps they get as a "side job fee" for this, but sometimes she even assigns her people as escorts if some caravan has an object of interest for her."

"And there are no other merc organizations escorting caravans from here, only Crimson Hands and Cleaners, right?"

"Yep, at least here. There might be some small gigs in other settlements, but aside from those two, only independents work here, but they don't fare too well - they're too often underarmed or underexperienced, so no one wants to hire them even if they're dirt cheap. Although maybe your warband will interest someone - you got a girl who wears flipping power armour and tots a minigun, a scout-sniper with a damn good and expensive rifle, and you yourselves are quite well-armed and carry yourselves as if you smelt some gunpowder, so you may try."

"Thanks. Back to topic - basically, both Route 25 and Little Pony Walk are equally bad?"

"Yeah, you can say that. Route 25 is besieged by raiders, Trade Sixty-Six slavers, and even nightkin now have joined the fray, and Little Pony Walk has cazadores and other mutants all over it plus the occasional Deathclaw. Also, Hooffields and McColts love battling it out over there, Brotherhood of Steel will gladly strip you of all advanced tech and you won't be able to do anything about it and again - nightkin."

"Right. Thanks again. And thanks for the Nuka-Cider," Twilight slid some extra caps. "A tip."

"Much obliged," the bartender smiled, showing his teeth that yellowed from excessive smoking, something which neither Equestrians found pleasant-looking. "Enjoy your stay!"

As they returned to their room, Twilight and Sunset relayed all information they gleaned from the hotel's bartender to Applejack and Rarity. The reaction of their friends was rather somber.

"So basically, we're in trouble wherever we go," Applejack concluded. "Ah'm startin' to think we need to just toss a coin and decide."

"While I wouldn't want to put my trust in a random outcome, I feel that the option does begin to sound attractive," Rarity sighed. "All the information we have basically says we have two bad choices with neither of them being clearly worse than the other one, so we can't even pick a lesser evil."

"I dunno, anywhere without Deathclaws is a lesser evil, I think," Sunset said. "Raiders, slavers or nightkin we can handle, if they're not in big numbers, but even one Deathclaw is enough to kill us all."

"Don't we know their nests' locations?" Applejack said. "If we don't go there, we shouldn't meet them."

"That's true, but if luck decides to flip us off..."

"Alright, everyone, stop," Twilight commanded. "We already talked enough about this without results, let's not argue about it. This day's tiring enough without this squabble."

"Fair enough," Sunset conceded. "I'll support whatever decision you make, Twilight. But if you decide to use Little Pony's Walk and we do die from the Deathclaws, I'm blaming you."

"Ha bucking ha," Twilight gave a sarcastic fake laugh. "Glad to know I have friends like you."

"Happy to serve the Princess of Friendship!" Sunset snarked in return, with an impish smile.

"Keep sassing me and I'll send you to the moon one day."

When the next day arrived, the girls decided to see if the local shops had anything of particular value for them, as well as to drop off the cumbersome loot they did not need anymore. However, an issue arose when they were thinking about the areas where they should go.

After the bartender's warning, the girls weren't willing to brave the McColts territory, but the question of whether the Cleaners would let them enter was significant enough to pause all of them. Sunset and Rarity advocated that going into Cleaners' territory should be fine as long as they paid the fee that Ivy Mortis' goons charged, while Twilight, Applejack and Spike were hesitant, remembering that their group had massacred the group of Cleaners that had attacked Donkey Stopper when they were there, and expecting a hostile response.

"How would they know of our participation in Donkey Stopper's defense if we eliminated all of the attackers?" Rarity said.

"Are you sure the ones we killed were all that's left?" Twilight countered. "They could have observers in places where we could not see them. Also, Ivy Mortis could have a stealthed eyebot for all we know."

"Preposterous," Sunset balked. "That kind of tech is not something any gangster, even one of Mortis' caliber, could just obtain. Do you remember that stealthed eyebots were mostly used by the army's recon units or elements of Commissariat's surveillance network, with heavy anti-tampering measures?"

"I am not as arrogant as Brotherhood of Steel is in assuming that everyone but them is dumb savages. What if Mortis was a Commissar or has a rogue one in her employ?"

"...fair point," Sunset conceded, "but the training and psychological conditioning any NSC operative would undergo - and they did use psychological conditioning very heavily, as far as I can guess - would make them heavily opposed to the idea of working with a criminal. Remember how Lyra wanted to kill Bon Bon? Only when presented with evidence that Bon Bon could have been framed did she agree to abandon the idea of killing her - and even then, only on the condition that she learns some concrete proof that Bon Bon is indeed innocent."

"Ah dunno," Aplpejack said, "Ah wouldn't trust that conditioning to hold for seven years when there's no head honcho left from NSC or the government to give orders."

"Plus, there's that unknown sniper..." Twilight started, but was interrupted by Sunset:

"What sniper?"

Rarity explained the meaning of Twilight's remark to the fiery-haired girl.

"So someone was walking around an anti-materiel rifle..." Sunset scratched her chin. "I agree that such a person is dangerous, but if they didn't shoot at you, doesn't that mean that they aren't in league with Cleaners?"

"That's the most logical conclusion, I agree," Twilight said, "but the enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend. Maybe that person just punished others for incompetence or just was ordered to kill any surviving Cleaners? Cranky told me that Ivy Mortis only sends disposable goons for... well, "chastisement" of villages that missed their payment."

"That might be true as well," Rarity conceded. "I wasn't even able to locate them, which means that they are a deadly opponent. I understand that you do not want to wager their allegiance being not to Ivy Mortis unless you can verify that. But there's a lot of factions here, and not all of them are necessarily friendly to her."

The argument went on, until the girls decided that Twilight and Rarity (plus Spike) would stick to the areas not occupied by Cleaners, while Sunset and Applejack would try their luck with Mortis' gang. Everyone agreed to keep their radio communicators inside Pip-Boys ready, just in case.

As it turned out, however, Cleaners were not stupid, and made sure to establish themselves in territories where Marehoof's best shops were located. As such, when Twilight and Rarity traversed the area not occupied by major gangs, they found out that anything they could buy from the shops, be it armour, weapons or even food, was at best on par with their own stuff, and worse in most cases. Moreover, the shopkeepers were unwilling to pay a big number of caps, since they did not have that many finances to begin with. The girls had to use their bartering skills to the max, but in the end they still left the shops with a lesser number of caps they could have got. Rarity was visibly displeased by this development.

They also tried to browse the shops to buy something for themselves, but the assortment of items was not appealing to them at all. In one shop, when the girls tried to purchase some ammunition, the owner said plainly that he could offer them "only stock surplus ammo". Rarity gave him such a dirty look upon hearing that proposition that he almost scampered to hide behind the counter, and dragged Twilight and Spike out of the shop.

"Stock surplus ammo is something you use if you want your gun to die quick, as the Wastelanders say," she explained to the bewildered Equestrian. "Their quality is subpar at best, and the only situation where you should use them if there's literally nothing else to use, hand-crafted ammo included. And if you have a spare gun. Otherwise, just ignore them."

As it also turned out, none of the shops sold or were willing to buy drugs and medicines. One of the shopkeepers whispered quietly that Cleaners wiped out all competition for drug stores with extreme prejudice, with one such case having occurred shortly before Twilight and others destroyed the White Knives, and the only place safe from them in that regard was McColt territory, which did not trade much anyway.

"They are OK with you having some for personal use, but one whisper of me selling as much as RegenStim and I'm a goner," he said, and refused to speak anymore on the subject.

From that tidbit, Twilight surmised that the Cleaners had practically monopolised the drug trade in the area, and asked Rarity if this was the case.

"I have not been in Western Wastelands very often, darling," the alabaster-skinned ex-fashionista replied, "but drug trade, be it normal medicines or addictive substances, is a very profitable business, and any crime ring worth their salt would try and profit from it. Since drugs are always in high demand, there is enough incentive to try and control it. And Ivy Mortis does not strike me as the one to miss a chance to profit."

"Would the Cleaners be monopolists in drug trade?"

"I doubt it, but I am certain that they would exterminate their competition if they were to catch wind of them."

"Drug dealing used to have a big presence in the criminal underworld, right?"

"Correct, darling, and it still is - it's just that now there is no police or Commissariat to stop the drug traders."

"Blast."

Once they reunited with Sunset and Applejack, they learned some things about Cleaners-controlled sectors as well.

"I almost shot one of the damn Cleaners' traders," Sunset fumed in sheer outrage. "Asshole tried to buy Med-X from us for five caps per syringe. Five bucking caps! This isn't even robbery, this is just taking sweets from kids and kicking them. Average cost of Med-X is twenty caps per syringe! And none of the drug stores in the area sell Med-X below forty!"

"Damn varmints," Applejack muttered angrily as well, "Ah also saw them sellin' some addictive shit that could earn a lotta years in prison before the apocalypse. An' there was this junkie pal who kept begging for a dose of somethin'."

"What about weapons, ammunition or armour?" Rarity asked.

"Bought some ammo, but the prices for decent weapons and armour are a rip-off as well," Sunset replied. "Even ammo is a little more expensive there, and if we talk about something specific like armour-piercing or HEI/AP ammo, the price is even higher. I think the guys aren't that willing to sell such ammunition but it apparently brings at least some profit. What about you?"

"Well, to put it simply, nothing decent, and the loot we sold did not bring as many caps as we wanted. Plus, Cleaners apparently control drug trade here - we couldn't buy or sell medicines," Twilight said. "The merchants are quite scared to sell even RegenStim syringes."

"Out-fucking-standing," the fiery-haired girl swore dirtily. "Meaning we'll have to go into their area again. You haven't tried venturing into McColts territory, have you?"

"With them being a lot more numerous and hostile? Do I look like a Power Pony to you?" the equine-turned-human Princess gave her compatriot an "are-you-stupid" glance.

"Means no. Got it."

"Did anyone from Cleaners give you trouble?" Rarity asked.

"Surprisingly, no; although," Sunset lowered her voice significantly, "since we must've killed all the attackers who raided Donkey Stopper, they might not be aware."

"Unless that unknown sniper tells them," Rarity spoke just as quietly.

"Don't you think that if they were with Cleaners, then you, me and Twilight would be dead?"

"I'd rather not bet on it. For all I know, that could have been a punishment for failure. Mr. Doodle did say that the attacking goons were of the more disposable kind, have you forgotten this already?"

"Let's not discuss this here," Applejack said, "ya never know who might listen in."

"Agreed," Twilight concurred, "now let's have a rest and then we'll decide whether it is worth the risk to get into Cleaners-controlled territory."

After having a lunch (fried bits of brahmin meat on a stick and some Nuka-Cider), the girls discussed on who would go to the Cleaners' area to sell the rest of their excessive loot. Everyone agreed that going alone was not an option; in the end, it was decided that Twilight and Sunset would go there with the goods, while Rarity would remain cloaked and keep watch over them, and Applejack would remain at the hotel with power armour on and minigun loaded, ready to act at the first sign of trouble. The girls also agreed to keep the transmitters inside their Pip-Boys active, just in case.

The guards near the entrance to the Cleaners-controlled streets disinterestedly recounted the caps paid as fee for entrance and let them through, not bothering to pay them any more attention than necessary. The two Equestrians went through the checkpoint, passing by a symbol of a black rose drawn near it.

Compared to the free-for-all area, the streets were relatively cleaner and buildings were less pettered by bullets from fights between two-bit gangs than elsewhere. Here and there an occasional Cleaner (or a group of them) would pass, and sometimes civilian walked around as well.

The shops were mostly located inside blocks of flats, undistinguishable from the rest but for the crudely painted words saying "DRUG STORE" or "WEAPONS AND ARMOUR HERE". Twilight noted with amusement that UFE propaganda posters featuring Fluttershy were present here as well, glued to the walls.

A pang of loss ran through her as she remembered the pink-haired girl, and wondered whether the human counterpart of her kind friend actually survived. When she asked Sunset about it, her compatriot's face soured.

"I have little to no idea, Twilight, honest," she said. "Fluttershy was not doing well before the bombs hit. She tried to keep the animal shelter she volunteered at running as well as she could, but ultimately, she failed, and the building was taken by some businessman who, in turn, was executed by Commissariat for espionage shortly after that, about two weeks or so."

"Ouch," Twilight winced, "that's a stroke of bad luck if I ever saw one. What happened to the animals?"

"The animals that had not been given away by that time were all euthanized except for puppies of guard breeds, which were taken by NSC for training. This upset Fluttershy to no end; she and I had a conversation where she actually flew off the handle and cursed Commissariat incessantly, and I couldn't get her to calm down. I was worried that Commissars would come after me."

"Why? You were a law-abiding citizen, no?"

"Yes I was, and no turning into a she-demon occurred," Sunset laughed a little, "but by that time NSC had already tapped into the whole cell phone network, justifying it by keeping watch over population in order to find TODC agents - as if said agents would be stupid enough to use cell phone network to pass secret data - and if they didn't like some phone talk, it was usually both people being detained."

"Did they actually come for you?"

"Surprisingly, no, and they didn't come for Flutters either - that time."

"Wait. What do you mean by that time? Did Fluttershy run afoul of NSC later?"

"She did when NSC and riot police broke up one food riot that turned violent. She ran across a person who was badly beaten and asked for help, and took them with her, giving first aid at her home and stuff. Then, before she knew it, Commissariat stormtroopers broke into her house and roughed them both up into the local HQ, although Fluttershy was released quickly."

"And the other person?"

"No idea about that, but considering that NSC did not like any riots, well... Fluttershy did not know and I knew better than to ask over a line that was monitored by the government. Then I saw a newspaper one time which told about an anti-NSC demonstration that was also broken up without mercy - one of the photos depicted her hauled away by NSC riot control squad into an APC. She called me several times after that once she was released, we chatted on nothing in particular - she wasn't willing to talk about what happened to her while in Commissariat custody, and I didn't insist - and then she went silent for two weeks. I wanted to risk it and call her myself when the Day of Burning arrived."

"And after that, there was no contact," Twilight concluded sadly.

"No."

"Did she have a place in the Vault?"

"I'm not sure, but I assume that she didn't have one. Given how hard it was to buy a place, I think she would have told us."

"And what was her last known location to you?"

"She continued to live in Canterlot, but during one talk, she mentioned she wanted to move to Appleloosa. But I don't know if she did so or not. Think we should swing by Appleloosa if we have the chance to do so?"

"It's possible, but I don't know if we'll find anything - the Brotherhood of Steel has established its own forward operations base in Appleloosa, according to what I read from their maps, and I'm not sure they allow civilians."

"Drat."

The rest of the trip towards shops of interest was made in silence, as neither Equestrian wanted to further disturb the sore wound of their friend's loss. The girls traded in everything they did not deem necessary for sale (while arguing with shopkeepers to death over every cap) and replenished their medicine and ammo supply a little (since prices were quite overblown). After doing so, they bought some snacks in one of the food shops and promptly left the Cleaners' sector without trouble, with none of Ivy Mortis' goons paying them undue attention... at least, it seemed so for them.

Night fell across Marehoof as most of its habitants fell asleep.

The streets, moderately busy and full of people during the day, emptied themselves. A new order established itself in the town, as it always did ever since gangs began fighting for their measly areas of influence, even before the Cleaners and McColts arrived and drastically changed the situation in their favour.

Gangsters of all factions spilled out, sneaking around back alleys or trutting on main streets without fear, looking for anyone stupid or arrogant enough to show their faces on the street in the middle of the night. Inevitably, firefights erupted as competing gangs fought each other somewhere or as targets of robbery attempted to resist the robbers. Some gangsters attempted to attack buildings occupied by merchants or hotel owners, but quickly met stiff resistance and retreated.

The music of gunfire rang in the air as usual, and blood splattered on the cracked asphalt as the unfortunate souls perished.

In the Cleaners' sector, additional gangsters spilled out onto the streets and took positions at the bottlenecks that served as points of entry into their area, while some people began patrols in groups of five, six or seven people. Anyone found in the area that did not already inhabit the sector was shot swiftly and without mercy, and any resistance was crushed - none of the two-bit gangsters had the arms or equipment to compete with the Cleaners.

The McColts performed the same routine, taking potshots at anyone who dared to show their face in their field of vision, regardless of the allegiance of the unfortunate target. Several bodies already littered the streets as the unfortunate souls paid the price for betting their lives on the off chance they would not be seen.

Anyone who was not a gangster and did not have a good enough reason to stick their neck out to the proverbial guillotine of Marehoof at night remained inside or took measures to hide themselves and remained vigilant. But even those who came out, dared not stick their noses into Cleaner or McColt territory...

...except one.

Unseen by anyone, unnoticed by untrained eyes, the infiltrator sneaked into the McColts' territory and looked around, plotting the next steps. After some pondering, they moved further, careful not to disturb the silence.

Passing several back alleys and hiding from the guards, the infiltrator hoisted themselves up and entered one of houses through a broken window where no glass remained and only a wooden frame remained ajar. Once inside, they blinked several times to let their eyes adapt to the darkness, and carefully moved further.

The building was one of the few high buildings in Marehoof, having five floors (including the ground floor) and it was pretty spacious. Intended as a block of flats, it was quickly turned by the McColts into something of a mix of a barrack and a living area. The gangsters took the ground and the first floor for themselves, leaving the rest for those residents who paid "protection fees" to them now. This arrangement was simple but efficient in terms of blocking the indebted - the gangsters just would not let them out.

At night, however, security was rather lax - since going out at night in the McColts' area was ground for an immediate bullet, they did not really watch if anyone was walking down the stairs - or up the stairs, where the infiltrator went.

Going up to the highest floor, the infiltrator noted with displeasure that pieces of rubble were spread all over the floor, and stepped carefully so as to avoid making noise. Stopping in front of the door, the person took out a set of lockpicks and quietly set to work.

Several minutes later, the lock clicked and the door opened. The infiltrator snorted in derision and stepped inside.

After a quick search of the apartment, they noticed a female figure sleeping in a bed made of intertwined wires forming a safety net of sorts, which had a ragged mattress and a stained sheet placed on it. The figure was covered by a dirtied white sheet.

The infiltrator silently approached the sleeping woman, looking at her face. No reaction was visible.

Quickly, the infiltrator whipped out a balisong knife and opened it. The leftt hand clamped onto the unsuspecting female's mouth.

The surprised victim woke up mere moments before the sharp blade sliced open her throat. She jerked around for several seconds, and lay still.

The infiltrator wiped the blade clean on the sheets, then threw something onto the dead body and left as silently as they arrived.

The area where the girls stayed in the hotel was relatively safe thanks to the presence of groups of well-armed guards of various businesses in the area, and there was an unspoken rule that if some punks tried to attack one of the shops or hotels in the area, the guards of all other businesses on the street would pitch in. As such, gangsters usually left the place alone when night fell upon Marehoof and they spilled out to hunt.

While this meant that the hotel owner could inflate his price on the basis of peace and quiet, it also meant that, in general, those who stayed there did enjoy the peace and quiet. As such, Twilight, Sunset, Applejack, Rarity and Spike rested throughout the night without a hitch.

After breakfast in the morning, they decided to not delay their departure from Marehoof any longer, and decided to follow the bartender's advce to hitch a ride with a caravan going to Freemare. After the breakfast, they checked out from the hotel and went to the western outskirts, where the caravans could be found. Rarity noted with displeasure that the smell of brahmin excrements permeated the air around them, and so did Spike.

The area was full of merchants with their bodyguards and brahmin standing nearby, the goods tightly packed on top of the two-headed animals. There were also small warbands intermixed here and there, offering their escort services, but it did not look like they were popular. The girls looked around, looking for someone who looked like somehow who would let them join their caravan to Freemare.

They also noticed a caravan guarded by people in what was unmistakably armour adorned with a bloody handprint symbol. Recognizing the Crimson Hands immediately, the girls took care to put as much distance between themselves and the mercs as feasible.

Forty or so minutes later, they managed to find a merchant who travelled in the company of some very mean-looking people. Said merchant agreed to let them tag along, but warned that he was not hiring anymore.

"No problem, pardner," Applejack replied, "we jus' need ta get ta Freemare, that's all."

"Fine," the merchant said, "no problem with me and my boys then. We move in thirty, stack up if you want, but I won't wait for stragglers."

The girls stayed near, since they did not feel the need for resupply; when the designated time arrived, they moved out with the caravan.

The merchant picked Route 25 for his travel this time; as such, the road they were on mostly consisted of tarmac which was good enough to walk on, albeit cracked in many places, and chunks were missing here and there. Everyone was on the lookout, as Route 25 was a popular target for bandits and slavers alike, and no one wanted to become their prey, so their weapons were ready and safeties were off.

They passed through the ruins of a small settlement, which (as the merchant said) was destroyed by a TODC bombing raid during the Eastern Gambit, and was abandoned because it was too small (only a few stone buidings) and there was nothing of value - the locals could not even remember what that place was or for whom it was built, so it was ultimately pointless to settle there.

As soon as they passed it, however, Rarity exclaimed:

"Contacts, straight ahead!"

"Who is it?" the merchant asked.

"I see... a military model truck, and there is another one behind it. The truck closest to us is... adorned with a picture of... three horseshoes, two below and one above, like a triangle?"

"Three horseshoes, like a triangle..?" the merchant thought for a moment, and then cursed, "Fucking dogshit, Hooffields!"

"What in Tartarus are Hoofflields doing here?" Sunset asked.

"Don't know and don't care, we must get back to Marehoof now!"

"Always a goldurn spanner in th' works!" Applejack's voice was muffled by her helmet.

Despite them running at their best speed, though, the trucks caught up to them quickly. The first truck drove into one of the brahmin and two of merchant's bodyguards who failed to get out of its way in time, and plowed further, skidding to a halt.

People in various types of armour dropped out and immediately opened fire on the people that have not taken cover yet, prompting return fire. The Hooffields peppered their cover without mercy, and the second truck also skidded to a halt, before dislodging another group of bandits...

...followed by a robotic figure that seemed somehow familiar to Twilight.

Didn't I see one like this when plunder vines were all around Ponyville?

Then two long barrels turned to one of the bodyguards, a loud BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM-BADAM reverberated, and a scream of a man torn apart by high-caliber ammunition followed.

"Holy fucking shit!" the merchant shouted, clearly in panic. "Everybody for themselves! Run for your life!"

As he tried to follow his own advice, though, the linked heavy machine guns turned to him and fired. The man screamed as the bullets tore his arm away, and he died from pain and shock before he hit the ground.

"Twilight, come on, quick!" the equine Princess heard Sunset scream. "Hide before it notices you!"

Easier said than done! Twilight thought. We're under crossfire, or did you not notice?

Indeed, whoever tried to hide from the unknown robot would be exposed to other Hooffields. However, Rarity threw a flashbang grenade, which landed straight in front of the enemy's formation, leaving the enemy blind for a few critical seconds. That was enough for the girls to rain a storm of lead on one of the flanks and reposition themselves in the ruins that hid them from both the robot with a double-barreled machine gun and the Hooffields while the rest of the bodyguards were busy fighting.

"No time to rest!" Rarity said. "Run! Run and don't look back! The farther we are from here, the better!"

"What was that thing?!" Sunset shouted.

"A warbot! CRAGADILE model, to be exact!" Twilight replied. "I read about them in the Brotherhood's library! It's an anti-infantry unit armed with a double-barreled .50 machine gun!"

"Where the fuck did those Hoofflield varmints find one?!" Applejack shouted. "Or reprogram one?!"

"Don't know, don't care, just GO!" Rarity shouted.

Fortunately, they did not go too far from Marehoof, so when they finally arrived back, they were able to outpace the Hooffields that attacked them. Even with that, they barely had time to warn everyone before Hooffields descended upon the entrance to Marehoof that led to Route 25.

This time, however, the Hooffields brought reinforcements - more people in two trucks, and an additional CRAGADILE warbot. The people, having only just received the girls' warning, did not have enough time to organize themselves, and a panic erupted.

One of the Hooffields fired a grenade launcher in the crowd in the general direction of the girls; Twilight, remembering all too well the near-death experience she had with grenade launchers, ran to the side as soon as she saw the barrel aimed at her (or how she perceived it, at least). Unfortunately, Sunset, Applejack and Rarity ran in another direction, and when the grenade exploded, panicked people began scampering away from the square, making it impossible for them to reconnect.

"Twilight!" the equine Princess heard Sunset shout over the screams of the crowd and gunfire.

"Girls!" she screamed fearfully, trying to fight against the human wave. For all her struggles, however, it was pointless, and she was pushed away by the crowd into one of the alleys. Shortly before it happened, however, she saw more Hooffields coming in the area.

Seizing a chance, she managed to duck to one of the side alleys, and stood in one place, catching her breath. Then she gripped her laser rifle tighter and moved in a direction where she last saw her friends being swept by the panicked crowd.

Or rather, tried to, as Hooffields swarmed the place she was in, and she ducked behind a large garbage crate, which was immediately peppered by bullets. Taking the risk, Twilight aimed at the enemies and fired several times, noting with satisfaction that one of the enemies fell, his shoddy armour unable to withstand the laser beams.

Realizing that their target had teeth, two other Hooffields tried to hide, but Twilight got another one as he hid behind cardboard boxes.

Seriously? she thought. Cardboard does not defend against bullets or lasers!

The last enemy peppered her own cover with bullets until his ammo ran out. Seizing the chance, Twilight fired, and her shot was lucky - the beam incinerated the Hooffield's head. Noting that more enemies were likely to come to the area where she was, Twilight ran further into the back alleys, and turned on her Pip-Boy radio.

"Girls?" she tried. "Sunset? Applejack? Rarity?"

"Rarity here, darling," the fashionista's voice was a little garbled by static; the Pip-Boys' radio transmitters, even mil-spec ones, were not very strong and there were buildings around, which further compounded the communication issues. "We broke from the crowd, but the Hooffileds got us on the run, one of CRAGADILE warbots keeps the main street in his sights and we have to walk the back alleys. We can't cross the street to get to you, so I'm afraid you have to go further without us for a while, darling."

"Curses!" Twilight was unable to resist some cussing. "Can we actually reunite?"

"Yes, the street will take a turn to the left, the CRAGADILE won't be able to see us then and we'll get you if we both move in a direction away from that scrap pile. Just hurry, darling, I don't think the street's defenders will be able to hold off the Hooffields for long."

"No shit," Applejack spoke up, using her own Pip-Boy, "th' darn warbot just obliterated half a dozen of McColts' varmints with mil-spec armour, and there's a ten or so Hooffileds following behind it."

"You heard Applejack. Hurry, Twilight!"

"Will do," Twilight said. "Easier said than done," she muttered, breaking into a run.

The attackers appeared to break through the outer layer of defense fairly quickly, as far as she could judge, because very soon, some Hooffields began swarming the side and back alleys as well, shooting at anything that moved. The equine Princess could not even stop to rest; one time she tried so, she quickly came under fire from pursuing Hooffields, and avoided getting bullet holes only thanks to the fact that those particular gangsters were poorly armed (with submachine guns) and Commissariat armour (which, unfortunately, received damage). She did not waste any time fighting the pursuers, knowing that she would be swarmed quickly; she simply tossed a frag grenade, not caring if she hit anyone, and turned around the (thankfully close) corner, diving deeper into back alleys.

Unfortunately, she ran into a McColt gangster as she did so, and the latter did not hesitate to open fire on her. Twilight ducked into cover, but one of the assault rifle bullets managed to penetrate the already damaged armour plate on her left forearm, and she cussed as blood flowed. Doing her best to ignore the pain, she fired back, hitting her enemy a couple of times. The McColt, noting the melted polyalloy of his own armour vest, ducked into cover himself, while Twilight kept her laser rifle trained on him. When the bandit stuck out, she fired again, and landed a hit on his neck straight into the carotid artery. The red beam sheared through the unprotected skin, cauterizing the severed artery, and the man fell. Twilight ran, but did not forget to put two more beams into his head.

The sound of heavy machine gun fire (presumably from the CRAGADILE warbot) did not become quieter as she ran. While it seemed that the habitants of Marehoof established some sort of defense, the Hooffields were here in force, and the main force that could resist them were Cleaners and McColts - both of which were at odds with each other.

Speaking of Cleaners... Twilight stopped for a moment and took care of the thorny rose sign adorning the walls.

...didn't I just cross into Cleaner territory?

That posed complications for her, she knew it. Considering the situation, the Cleaners were unlikely to be friendly to her. Noting that she had little to no charge left in her microfusion cell, Twilight pulled the release lever and inserted a new one, while looking behind her in case more Hooffields arrived.

"Greetings, Miss Sparkle," a silky voice sounded from her right.

She quickly turned around, aiming her laser rifle at the newest arrival...

...and the clicks of cocked guns sounded everywhere around her.

As it turned out, she was surrounded by no less than a dozen Cleaners who cleverly hid behind various crates and garbage piles. All of them had their weapons - assault rifles, marksman carbines and even an occasional laser rifle - trained on her, while the guy who spoke had an LMG secured on a belt, his hands resting on the top. Twilight recognized the LMG as the same model Applejack used before getting her minigun.

"Please lower your weapon," he said. "Such aggression does not befit you. And it makes my people jumpy."

"Armed people surrounding me and calling me by my name is no less jumpy-inducing," Twilight said, slightly lowering her rifle, "and you have me at a disadvantage, Mister..?"

"Right, apologies. I am Vendet Ross, the captain of the local detachment of Cleaners. Ivy Mortis has expressed a desire to chat with you, Miss Sparkle. We are here to ensure your safe passage."

Translation, I am to be delivered to their boss, and not necessarily undamaged.

"Your friends are also objects of interest for Ivy Mortis, so naturally they are included in our safe passage offer we extend to you."

"Well that's going to be problematic," Twilight said. "As I understand, all of us need to see your boss?"

"Yes, precisely."

"Well, problem is, we got separated thanks to the panic and I have no idea where they can be."

"It's unfortunate, but you have a modified PipBoy with a radio transmitter. Yes, we know," Vendet smirked at Twilight's surprised face, "we have a radio wave scanner here, and your comms were not encrypted, so we know where you are supposed to meet."

"So... I am supposed to call my friends and lure them into a trap?" Twilight glared defiantly at him. "Not happening."

"How gauche, Miss Sparkle. We are not barbarians. We simply need to ensure that you - all of you - see Ivy Mortis."

"Why does your boss want to see me so much?"

"I was not made privy to the details behind her wish. But she insisted that you speak with her. And while I understand your... reticence, shall we say, I'm afraid my well-being and well-being of my comrades do depend on us succeeding at this task."

Emotional blackmail? Really? Either he is really stupid or he is just amusing himself, Twilight thought. She was not buying his speech, that was for certain.

"And how do you plan to get everyone to Freemare? In case you have not noticed, Hooffields are here en masse," the equine Princess made a hand-waving gesture.

"True. However, they have not attempted to attack the exit that leads to Little Pony's Walk yet. And we have two scout transports, both of which are well-fueled and have fully stocked 7.62mm machine guns, and each can hold up to six persons. As long as we get to scouting vehicles, we can travel relatively safely. However, they are located in our sector. What we need of you is to change your rendezvous point to gate number seven - that's where our vehicles are prepped."

"And if I refuse?"

"I am afraid that you might invoke Ivy Mortis' ire, and I really would not recommend doing so. Her control easily expands over the whole of the Western Wastelands, aside from some areas held by the Brotherhood of Steel, Hooffields, McColts, Trade Sixty-Six and Flameswords," Vendet Ross shifted a little, and continued, "Please, Miss Sparkle. My boss may have a... controversial reputation, but she does not kill anyone the first time she meets someone. You need to talk, and then you'll be left to your devices."

It doesn't look like I can evade this situation, Twilight thought. Most likely she has questions about Donkey Stopper, or she just wants to get rid of the Daring Duo. On the other hand, I might actually be able to confront her over the village, and negotiate.

"Alright, I'll meet your boss," she replied.

"Then please contact your friends, and do not try anything funny," Vendet motioned. Twilight activated her radio in Pip-Boy and asked:

"Girls? Anyone out there?"

"AJ here, sugarcube," Applejack's voice rang out. "What's up?"

"I've run into a group of people who agreed to give us a transport. They're moving to gate number seven and want to hurry before the Hooffields cut off the access to Little Pony's Walk."

"Gate seven? Isn't that in Cleaner territory?"

"I got that covered, they shouldn't shoot at you. Paid for everyone."

"Ya sure 'bout that, sugarcube?"

"Positive," Twilight had a flash of inspiration, and said, "Remember Bon Bon and the wild ride near Appletown? Same here."

"OK Twi, Ah got ya. Movin' ta gate seven."

Applejack ensured that her radio was turned off, and said;

"Is it just me, or does Twi sound like she's in trouble?"

"Yes, I think she ran into some problem," Sunset replied, and cussed, "Fuck! We didn't even think of code phrases! I'm a Celestia-bucking idiot."

"Why'd she mention Bon Bon, Ah wonder..."

"I think it means she is taken prisoner by someone, like Bon Bon was. Rarity, what about that Nightmare Moon-be-damned CRAGADILE?"

"Someone has finally brought rocket launchers and..." Rarity paused as a loud BOOM followed, and cheered, "YES! Finally that clanker is down!"

"OK Rarity, the plan is as follows - cloak and run ahead as fast as you can, locate Twilight. Me and Applejack will try to catch up!"

"Understood, darling!" Rarity turned on her Pip-Boy and disappeared from sight.

Twilight, Vendet Ross and other Cleaners traversed carefully through the lesser-known areas in Cleaner territory. At Vendet's insistence, Twilight holstered her laser rifle (not that she was in position to decline), which made her uncomfortable, since everyone else was armed and could pump her full of lead at a moment's notice.

This did not make her more confident in her survival chances. With Hooffields attacking en masse and all other factions fighting among themselves as well as against the newest attackers, Marehoof had become a veritable center of chaos.

Discord would be amused, the alicorn-turned-human thought. Or not. Since this chaos does not involve soap-covered roads, chocolate milk, flying pigs or houses, he might find it dull.

She noted with a note of bemusement that she actually missed Discord. For all the ever-annoying and illogical antics of the draconnequs, he was a presence that she eventually got used to. Not to mention that after the mishap with Tirek, he apparently really was unwilling to turn to his old ways anymore - although his habits still tested her nerves at times.

The situation was quickly going to Tartarus. The McColts and small gangs apparently thought it was a good idea to try and carve some area from Cleaners now that the Hooffields tried to do the same, and flooded the area. Vendet cursed as he reloaded his machine gun after the latest firefight (Twilight was not allowed to participate and was unceremoniously shoved to cover each time that happened), pulling the bolt:

"Thrice-fucked cockbits! Now that Hooffields showed up, this shit went to Tartarus faster than a plane! We already lost three people!"

Privately, Twilight hoped that all of the Cleaners would get killed before they got to the gate number seven, but the Cleaners proved to be competent enough to sustain repeated attacks while receiving minimal damage. But the enemy was unrelenting, and as Vendet said, three of the Cleaners were already killed in action - despite them being careful enough not to expose themselves to the deadly fire of the CRAGADILE warbot and heavily-armed Hooffields. Judging by the sounds of battle, those that tried to defend the main street from it were still losing, badly.

"Alright people, move it, we still have a long way to go and we better move quick before that warbot makes it to our scouting vehicles!" the captain of Cleaners commanded. The rest obeyed, and Twilight reluctantly went along with them.

When they finally arrived at the designated point, however, they saw a force of two dozen McColts attacking the Cleaners who indeed had two scouting vehicles ready to go. In both of them gunners manned 7.62mm machine guns, and the rest were using the cars as cover. Corpses of both attackers and defenders were strewn across the area.

"Men, flank the McColts!" Vendet ordered, and put a hand on Twilight's shoulder. "Miss Sparkle, you stay put," he said, pushing her in a small passageway between two houses with a dead end, standing in front of her with his weapon primed. Twilight listened to the sounds of battle going on. Judging by the increased number of screams of pain from the side of McColts (as she assumed), the attack from the flank had a degree of success. However, this left her in a precarious position of being trapped by a person who had a duty to deliver her to the mightiest crime lord of the Western Canterlot Wastelands... who might not let her friends leave the place alive.

Her ruminations were interrupted by a whisper behind her.

"Pssssst... duck."

Twilight did as told to...

"Ooooof!"

Her outburst of discomfort, as something heavy stepped on her back, did not remain unnoticed by Vendet Ross. He turned back - only to jerk to the side as if kicked by something.

Then, Rarity's form shimmered out of thin air, and she delivered a series of brutal strikes that rendered the Cleaners' captain unconscious.

"How did you get in there past him?" Twilight asked her fashionista friend.

"I didn't. I hid there, trying to find a way to get you away from Cleaners' clutches, when luck smiled to me and the captain shoved you in here," Rarity smiled as she spoke into her Pip-Boy: "Sunset, Applejack, we got Twilight."

"Gotcha, Rarity!" Applejack replied.

"Rarity," Twilight said, "we shouldn't talk much on the radio, the Cleaners have someone on radio monitoring."

"Radio monitoring?.. Oh, signal intelligence, got it, thanks, darling."

"There ya are, Twi!" Applejack exclaimed, her voice muffled by a helmet. Sunset followed her on her heels.

"Let's get out before the Cleaners realize we've left," she said.

"You don't need to tell me twice," Twilight unholstered her laser rifle. "But how will we get past them?"

"Hmmmm," Rarity thought for a moment, "I think we can sneak past them while they are busy. But we need to get closer to the gates first. Follow me, darlings..."

One of the houses was located very close to the gates, and this helped the girls when they got close to the wall. With the Cleaners and McColts fully occupied with each other, no one noticed them sneaking out. Twilight let Spike walk on the grass so that he could smell any danger from ahead or behind them, and everyone sprinted as fast from the town as they could.

"So..." Sunset said, "it's Little Pony's Walk after all. So Twilight, do you have a path ready?"

"Yes," Twilight took out and unfolded a map, where she drew the line between circles, some of them marked with exclamation marks. "The circles represent the nests of cazadores, and those with exclamation marks are nests of Deathclaws, and the edge of the circle is a zone where a Deathclaw can be met from outside their nests, so we don't go there if we can. There are also crosses inside some circles, see? These are other dangerous areas, most of them are fatally dangerous, so we avoid them too. I would like to get to the Brotherhood outpost, they should recognize my codes. We can rest, gather info, resupply and get moving further in the direction of Ponyville. Originally I wanted to get to Freemare, but after that scuffle... well, I am not sure if Ivy Mortis will let us live after me declining her invitation in such a way."

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes to it," Sunset said. "We'll see her on our terms, whether she likes it or not. After what her goons did to Donkey Stopper, I'm not sure why we should not just give her the White Knives treatment."

"You mean, utterly eliminate her and her gang?"

"Yes."

"There are four of us, eight if you count Flash and his team, and I’m not sure if the Brotherhood will appreciate us dragging them into a war with Mortis, Sunset. I don't like what she did too, but we need to act carefully, based on what resources we have."

"Much as it pisses me off, I think we do need to be careful," Rarity said. "When Hooffields attacked us, we had to go on the run, and the Cleaners are the strongest gang in the Western Wastelands."

"Alright, I get you," Sunset said. "Just... I don't like the idea of letting her have her way."

"Neither do I, Sunset," Twilight said. "If I knew I could get away with it, we would be storming her stronghold in Freemare soon, but we'll have to wait."

"OK, I'll drop the subject for now," sighed the fiery-haired girl.

They walked for several hours until they got into the ruins of a small settlement, which was not marked on any map. As Sunset explained, it was a so-called "ghost settlement" - a place that was abandoned for whatever reason and not occupied by anyone, and that did not have any name.

"No one bothers to give them names, since they don't have anything remarkable," she said. "Just ruins and ruins."

Suddenly, Spike barked.

"What is it, Spike?" Twilight asked.

"I smelled something, like... fireworks?"

"Fireworks? Why in the..." Sunset paused, and gasped, "I think these might be explosives. Weapons ready, girls, I don't want to run into an ambush."

A sound of revving engines interrupted them. A scouting transport, similar to the one the Cleaners had but adorned by rust-yellow colours and the Hooffields' insignia nearly jumped out at them. From another side, a truck screeched to a halt, and a CRAGADILE warbot jumped out of it. The girls immediately dashed for the closest cover, raining suppressive fire on the run.

"Oh for Celestia's fucking fat flank's sake!" Sunset bellowed. "Just how many warbots do they have?"

"Methinks they just finished with Marehoof and decided to pursue the raid's survivors!" Applejack shouted.

Suddenly, Cleaner escort does not sound like a bad idea, Twilight thought, but did not say that out loud. Instead she said:

"OK, I think it's time for drastic actions! Rarity, do you have HEI/AP ammo?"

"I do, darling, what's your thought?" Rarity shouted back over sounds of gunfire.

"Do you think you can take out the warbot or that vehicle if you hit its weak spot?"

"For a CRAGADILE this would not work, I think," Rarity said, "one needs an anti-materiel rifle to punch through their armour. I might hit the car, though. I recognized it, it's the FSV-230 "Grasshopper" scouting transport, and I know where its fuel tank is, so if I could ignite it..."

"Isn't it run on nuclear fuel?"

"This particular one isn't, judging by the sound of its engines. It still has a good old petrol engine. If I could just get it in my sights... I need to shoot it from the side, preferably while perpendicular to it."

"That's gonna be hard..."

Suddenly, the loud fire of heavy machine gun made them all duck as small bits of bricks were blasted away by .50 caliber bullets.

"Oh fuck me with Nightmare Moon's horn, this shit beats through walls too?" Sunset cursed, changing position.

"It's fifty-cal, what did ya want?" Applejack replied. "Rarity, can't ya hit his sensors or something?"

"I'm afraid others don't let me do it, darling!"

Rarity was right; a CRAGADILE warbot was bad enough on its own, but the "Grasshopper" and other soldiers of Hooffields made the notion a little difficult.

The girls (Twilight had scooped Spike and put him in her rucksack) tried to resist as well as they could, but that was difficult. The warbot easily punched through many walls, often causing them to crawl (even Applejack's power armour did not fare well against .50 bullets) from cover to cover, and if they tried to fire back, a literal bulletstorm rained at them from the other Hooffields. Some of them tried to outflank the girls, but were unsuccessful - the girls were ready for this and rained as much fire as they could, killing the flanking Hooffields.

But the girls still could not get either the CRAGADILE or the "Grasshopper" vehicle. Rarity could not get into position to ignite the fuel tank with her HEI/AP bullets or snipe the machine gunners; in fact, she was not sure if her .308 ammo was enough to punch through the vehicle's armour, despite the fact that the "Grasshopper" was not even designed for confrontations and its armour was really bad if compared to other scouting vehicles. And the CRAGADILE warbot had a good sensor package that could even see through Rarity's Stealth-Boy, so she could not line up a shot against its sensors too.

The situation turned bad for them, and they knew it. The firepower their enemy had was overwhelming, and they could not adequately resist it.

Suddenly, their Pip-Boys caught a radio signal on the local Civilian Distress Service frequency, where a very mangled voice spoke:

"Hold on there. We can get rid of the Hooffields, just hold on for a couple more minutes."

"Did you hear that?" Twilght asked.

"Let's do what the guy says - I'm frankly sick and tired of being caught in this trap like a mouse!" Sunset tried to hit someone with her laser rifle, but was immediately forced back into cover.

"Don't stick out, just see that they don't outflank us!" Twilight said.

The girls waited for the two minutes to pass; they dragged on like eternity, until...

"Fire at them, everyone at once!" the same voice said. Not in a state of mind to question it, all girls rained down fire on the enemies.

One second later, a rocket flew from the right, impacting with the CRAGADILE warbot and setting it ablaze; the machine exploded and flipped in mid-air, falling apart. The Hooffields immediately turned in the direction where the rocket came from and fired there at once - exposing themselves to the girls.

No one hesitated; the combined fire brought down both machine gunners and one of the Hooffileds before another rocket flew from the same direction and hit the "Grasshopper" straight into the engine, exploding the car and killing all the Hooffields closest to it. Those who were not that close to the scouting vehicle, tumbled forward, but before they managed to do something, three sniper rifle shots fired, killing them all.

"Alright," the same voice spoke in their Pip-Boys, "we're coming out to greet you, stay in place and don't shoot."

The girls watched as three young men walked out of one of the building and went in their direction, carefully watching in all directions. One of them had an AP-79 assault rifle, another had an assault rifle of an unfamiliar design, and the third had a squad automatic weapon. The guy with an unfamiliar-looking assault rifle came close to them and shouted, "Alright everyone, come out, we want to meet you!"

"Wait, I know that voice!" Rarity whispered, and then shouted, "Trenderhoof? Is that you?"

"My, my, Miss Rarity, what a pleasure! Did not expect to see you! Do come out!"

"Trenderhoof? From Crystal Prep?" Sunset shouted.

"Sunset Shimmer, well that's a surprise, eh, Neon, Crimson?"

"Sure is, but let's move on!" the guy with the SAW, who had spiky red hair and an earring - Crimson Napalm - grumbled.

"We're coming out!" Sunset said, and everyone came face to face with two former Crystal Preppers and one former Canterlot Wondercolt.

"Why, Applejack and Twilight, what a surprise indeed!" Trenderhoof exclaimed. "Come, the others will want to meet you!"

"Others?" Applejack asked.

"Yes, some of the Crystal Preppers and Wondercolts are here as well."

"Sure would be nice to see familiar faces," Sunset said.

The group entered the building and got upstairs on the firstfloor. One man with his back to them was covering the area with some bolt-action sniper rifle. A rocket launcher was standing nearby; Sunset gasped when she saw it.

"Is it a Panzerwraith rocket launcher? Those are rare as Tartarus!" she exclaimed.

"Well," the man with the sniper rifle turned and smiled, "we are well off when it comes to weapons."

"Kurt Marshall!" Sunset exclaimed. "Is that you?"

"Yep, me; still alive and kicking."

"So you have heavy rocket launchers, and people who can use them?"

"But of course!" a new and very familiar voice rang from behind them, making all of them tense.

Is it..? they all thought as they turned. In the room walked a girl with light-gray and bluish-gray hair and pale light-blue skin, arrogantly cocking another Panzerwraith rocket launcher on her shoulder.

"The Hooffields may have vehicles and CRAGADILE warbots, but they can never match the shocking and explosively amazing abilities of the Great and Powerful TRIXIE!"

Canterlot Wastelands Survival Guide Entry

FSV-230 "Grasshopper" scouting vehicle

Designed for use by UFE's scout-snipers, the FSV-230, nicknamed "Grasshopper", is a fast vehicle that can hold up to six people and has two 7.62mm machine guns for self-defense. Out of all surviving post-apocalyptic transports, it is one of the most common ones and can be seen in use by powerful factions like Cleaners, Hooffields, McColts and Crimson Hands as well as some independent warbands. One significant disadvantage of this vehicle is the fact that many of them still use old petroleum which is even more rare today; models with nuclear engines were not produced in large numbers. Old petrol models are vulnerable to anti-materiel ammunition; one HEI/AP bullet to the fuel tank is capable of setting it ablaze very easily. On the other hand, few in the Wastelands actually have anti-materiel rifles.

Canterlot Wastelands Survival Guide Entry

CRAGADILE warbot

The first advanced warbot designed for the UFE military as soon as microfusion mini-reactors made the creation of such units feasible. An experiment in automaton warfare, it does not boast any weapon other than double-barreled .50 machine guns, but even that weapon, coupled with rather sturdy armour that held against most types of small arms ammunition, paved the way for further development of other military warbots, like MANTICORE. Although this warbot cannot withstand even one rocket, its sensors can easily distinguish priority targets and allow its machine guns to turn them to paste; even Stealth-Boys are of no use.

CRAGADILE warbots served as anti-infantry automatons and are still used in this capacity by anyone who can reprogram them. Unlike other models, CRAGADILE does not boast any sophisticated anti-hacking defenses, which means that a competent hacker could easily reprogram the warbot's IFF systems. These warbots have been seen deployed by the Brotherhood of Steel and Cleaners, although recent sightings indicate that Hooffileds have also captured some CRAGADILE units somewhere.

Stats:

Health: 400
Damage Threshold: 17

Weapons:
Double-barreled .50 machine gun

Author's Notes:

Well this one took a damn long time. If it's not real life issues, it's either me just not wanting to write anything or being busy thinking of developments which lie ahead.

Result: my biggest delay to date and a failure to meet my own task of this chapter being 15k words long. Damn it!

Worse, I still cannot guarantee a good update schedule. The real life has taken a harder turn recently. Nothing too critical, but mentally draining.

Ah well. I hope you enjoyed the little surprise in the end, I think some of my readers who were asking about Trixie will be happy to see her

Big thanks to Rameses XIII for beta-reading this chapter!

Read and comment, please, and stay tuned!

P.S. Also, I would like to (belatedly) congratulate all citizens of Allied nations on the V-Day, and all of my Russian compatriots on the Day of Victory in the Great Patriotic War!