The Jukebox from the Atom Cat's garage could be heard playing Stray Cats, 'Rock this Town,' a private selection of music from their own personal stock.

Ch. 82

Zeke, Rowdy, Bluejay, Roxy, Johnny D., Gearhead, Grease Monkey, Duke

“So, who are these guys?” Hancock asked.

“A crew I happen to know who operate South of Boston. They're the only Cats crazy enough to make regular expeditions into the Glowing Sea. Had I known when you were planning on going there, I would've told you to swing by, and give these guys a holler. They got a good portion mapped out, which is worth stopping by to see how the maps improved since then. Ah let's see...there's Zeke. The man with the plan, then...Roxy, Rowdy, Johhny D., and then they've got a few ponies as well, Gearhead and Grease Monkey. Oh and then Duke is in and out most of the time. You said you're resistant to radiation? That might make a few friends around here since these guys would love having another person coming along with them.”

“Pass,” Hancock said.

“I was talking to the other rad-proof member of our group. How are you feeling, Meathead?”

“<Like I need to lay down. There's...>” Meathead put a hoof to his forehead and groaned, “<Gah, it hurts to think. There's...Jealousy... and Greed. It's a group. They're off to the South...and West of us.>”

“Can you change yet?” Deacon asked.

The Changeling had been following along at a cantering pace, still exposed but setting a slow pace for the Atom Cat's garage at Deacon's guidance.

“<I don't have the energy.>”

“Anything you can think of to help you, let us know. Keep us updated if you can if that group gets any closer.” Deacon said, Meathead tried to show a smile. Even a little concern from his two friends for his wellbeing was enough to spur a little more effort into the emotivore.

The road they were on running parallel to the ocean was mostly eaten away and washed with sand. Not many buildings or cover, and the landmarks were far between stretches of open territory. To the South of them lay the town of Quincy.

“<What's the latest news about Quincy, do either of you know?>”

“Not since the Gunners took it over,” Deacon said.

“I know what you and Nate know,” Hancock replied.

“<The last of the Minutemen turned coat to the Gunners. Something about betrayal. The Mutant that Athena and Mona want me to kill is supposed to be on the other side of Quincy, at the Atomatoys Factory. Nate and I found out that the factory was side-contracted to make land mines for the government before the Big War.>”

“Where'd you find that out?” Deacon inquired.

“<Atomatoys HQ back in Boston. The mutants never checked the computers or could figure out the locked doors. So...>” Meathead trailed off, Deacon thought the Changeling was too tired to finish his line of thought, but he could sense Meathead was thinking of something bigger.

“Save your energy. We'll get them.”

“<Actually...just talking about it gave me an idea. A long shot...but, I wonder if the Gunners know about the land mines being made at the toy factory?>”

“Why were they doing that?” Hancock asked.

“<The parts and pieces used for fabrication could be machined here, Small screws, metal plates, the housing for the explosive, whatever else the government needed to make the land mines.>”

“What's the idea?” Deacon inquired.

“Any explosives made pre-war would've been locked behind a security gate, rigged to a computer or extra locks at the least...>”

“You think they're sitting on a massive bomb,” Deacon stated, Meathead nodded.

“A whole factory for making land mines?” Hancock wondered aloud, visualizing the mechanics of the operation.

\111/

After a few more minutes of walking, Deacon leads them down onto the sand, away from the overpass and view of any potential lookouts from Quincy. Trekking across sand bars, halfway Deacon raised his rifle with both hands above his head and kept walking. “This is for when the Atom Cats spot us.”

“<Have the Gunners been giving them trouble?”> Meathead suddenly felt a well of anger coming from the Atom Cat's garage, “<Get down!>” He shouted, shoving Deacon to the left a moment before a bullet rang out, skipped across the water, and struck the sand far behind them.

“I'd say a bit!” Hancock shouted. With no cover except shin-high water, Meathead's horn glowed, as he was timing the feeling of anger at its highest with the second shot fired. It peaked with a sense of grim satisfaction as it was directed at Hancock, who was thrown sideways by Meathead's magical force, pushing him ten feet to his right as the bullet rang out again.

“Stop firing!” Deacon yelled. “Crap! I don't think they recognize me.”

“Deacon! The last time you were here; Were you in disguise?!” Hancock shouted, spitting out sea water as he got both feet under him again to stand up.

Deacon bit his lip, mouth dropping open, “I... Ah...”

“Deacon, you sneaky butthole!” Hancock shouted. “You're gonna get us all killed 'cause you don't look the same!”

There wasn't a third shot, as the Atom Cats ran to the gunner and spotted Deacon and Hancock recognizing them, they stopped the rifleman from firing again.

\111/

Zeke, Johnny D., Roxy, Bluejay, Gearhead, Grease Monkey, Duke.

“Zeke! You need to come up to the Third Rail more often.” Hancock said.

“Hancock! I knew that ugly mug of yours dressed in those rags was you! Sorry about that.” Zeke replied.

“Well thank God, someone realized who we were,” Hancock said, looking up at the three Atom Cats in Power Armor. The suits were a mix-match of several different models. Ranging from T-45 to X-1, the common theme was that they all had hot-rod flames painted on the outside with the Atom Cats logo of a grinning, cartoon cat's head in the middle of an atomic blast.

“Deacon! Holy Smokes, you shaved! Sorry about that, we've been on edge for the last few days. Gunners keep picking at our defenses, Grease Monkey was on the lookout.”

“Sorry about that.” The orange unicorn stallion replied. Wearing a stained pair of red coveralls from the Red Rocket service team, his brown mane was slicked back.

“Well; Introductions then,” Deacon said,

“Atom Cats, this is Meathead, Meathead, that there is Zeke, and those two have got to be Roxy and Bluejay. Over there is Rowdy in the Nuka-Cola tank top and jeans.”

Even with the armor on, Deacon remembered which suit belonged to who. The two members of the Atom Cats took off their helmets to show their faces.

“Well come on in,” Zeke said.

The trio entered the gated area around the Red-Rocket turned Atom Cat's garage, rockabilly music was playing, legs of meat was on the barbeque, Johnny D. and Gearhead were in the garage restoring the back end of a fourth suit of power armor, with dozens of spares and frames all around the entire complex.

“So Deacon, who's your friend? You're not one of those crazy things the Railroad smuggled out of the Institute, are you?”

Meathead shook his head, “<I'm not, but the less the Institute knows about me, the better.>”

“Why? What'ch your secret? Are you a radioactive-proof pony or something? You look like you came crawling out of the Glowing Sea.”

Zeke's attempt at sarcasm was well-meaning, but Meathead was feeling drained to not have the energy to respond well to it.

“<Close enough.>”

“Meathead here did more for the Railroad ten times over in the last week than I've done all year. He's exhausted, starving, and about to maul someone if he doesn't get a place to crash for a bit while we scope out our next spot.”

“So, Meathead, what...are you?” Zeke asked.

“A Changeling. I detect emotions and live off them, mostly. I have a few other skills, but right now, I'm fighting off the urge to collapse. That's a skill in of itself.”

“You look like you need a steak and a beer.”

“<Don't tempt me.>”

“We just threw some meat on the barbeque. Cold beers in the fridge over yonder. Couch around back.”

Everybody looked to the fridge, a pristine Nuka-Cola fridge repainted bright red with crisp white lines to spell out the lettering, and on the side was Rocket-Girl, Nuka-Cola's pin-up gal and advertisement of the time. 'Blast off with Nuka-Cola'.

“<I'm laying down, Deacon. Hancock. Tell them I have a plan for all of Quincy.>”

“What is it?” Deacon asked.

“<I'm still working out the details, but let me lay down and I'll come back with an answer. It'll take care of the Gunners and the Mutants.>”

“Got it.”

Meathead raised his head, neck straight, and was quiet for a moment. “<Tell them the Gunners just broke off into a small group too. Six, maybe seven of them. Arrogance, cocky ego, sure strong emotions. The kind that is ready to pick a fight.>”

Deacon nodded, while most everyone was listening, they watched as the Changeling disengaged from the conversation, and rounded the corner behind the garage to see a red sofa with blankets stretched out over it. He climbed up and collapsed, eyes already closed and within a minute, Meathead was asleep.

“So Deacon, Hancock, wanna fill us in on your new friend there and what that was all about?” Roxy inquired.

“Meathead can detect humans, Gunners are on their way.”

Zeke turned around, shouting once, “Gearhead! Bluejay! It's go time.”

With one garage bay occupied by the last human member Bluejay, they all went to their suits, with Grease Monkey entering his suit of pony-shaped power armor, made from repurposed Giddy-up Buttercup frames and metal plates.

While Gearhead was fitting his yellow suit on, with more hot-rod flames along the hooves, and down the neck, the suit looked remarkably different with the addition of two wings on each side.

On the back were two ports for Fusion Cores, one for the suit, the second for the wings. Two motors are connected to turbines on each side to create thrust for the wings.

“Hey, Gear. Stick with your ground suit.” Bluejay told Gearhead. The pony grumbled but quickly ran to the wall of junk and parts, fitting on pieces of armor that would go over his body and protect most of his joints.

“Oy! Quiet! I see them coming!” Rowdy yelled, he was standing by the metal wall, looking out one of the bullet holes shot through to use as a viewport.

“Where do you want us?” Hancock asked Zeke. The leader of the Atom Cats pointed to the roof.

“Get up there and wait for them to get close. We ain't had many chances to prep this long before they try and storm us. Ladder's around the backside.”

As everyone got into position, Johnny and Roxy were by the front gate in their power armor, Zeke climbing a rampart, but staying below the line of sight of the high wall fence. Rowdy was loading a double barrel shotgun with ¼ sticks of dynamite, and the shells had the buckshot taken out. Crackerjack rounds, with an extra long fuse tied on. She laughed deviously as the wicks came out the end of the barrel.

“You're gonna blow your arms off if you keep using those things,” Gearhead warned.

“But they're super fucking fun to shoot!” Rowdy replied, “That's why I got this string tied to the gun to throw it into the water when the gun dryfires. Let's see these Gunner bastards crap their pants when one of these goes off in their face!”

The pony just shook his head, “No way in hell,” He said, taking a position behind Rowdy and away from her line of fire. As inventive and creative as the Atom Cats were, there were some lines beyond stupid.

Grease Monkey readied barbed wire coils into a whip, as Blue jay outfitted his power armor with a laser rifle hooked up to his suit to use as an energy source.

“Crank up the music!” Zeke shouted, the closest person to the garage bay was still Bluejay, so he quickly ran over to turn up the volume to make it seem like the Atom Cats were unaware of the Gunners' approach. Roxy took a canister of fuel and hoisted it up onto her back. Two hoses running down the length of her arms with nozzle spouts extending beyond the hands were connected to two triggers by her fingers.

“Time to make these Gunners remember why it's a bad idea to fuck with the Atom Cats!”

As the rockabilly music was turned up louder, the Gunners were within 200 meters and were running the stretch of road directly to the Atom Cats garage.

“Rowdy,” Zeke said, pulling back the bolt on his assault rifle, “Show them the prize they get at the bottom of a pinewood box.” He was mixing analogies, but she understood what her boss meant.

“Grease, Gear, see if you can wrangle us a Captain. Everyone else, pick your targets.”

“How close are we letting them get?” Roxy asked. She had a bead on the Gunners, aiming through a viewport in the wall.

“Whites of their eyes. Whites of their eyes.” Zeke repeated.

In a nine versus seven-man shootout, with five of the Atom Cats in their power armor, armed to the teeth, two Atom Cats heavily armored, and finally Deacon and Hancock on the roof. Versus a lightly armored gang of seven Gunners rushing for the gates of the Atom Cats garage, Rowdy took the end of the wick and held it up against the exhaust of her suit, the heat hot enough to start the fuse. Roxy and Bluejay kicked open the gates, and with two 'Thump, thump's' of the shotgun firing, the crackerjack rounds were launched through the air, the sticks of dynamite sailed right for the group, exploding in a deafening bang that killed two Gunners immediately in the blast.

The five remaining Gunners didn't have time to react as everyone popped up out of cover and fired in their direction. Roxy ran out with jets of flame blasting in front of her, Bluejay fired laser shots down the road, Zeke and Johnny D. were shooting rounds off at the Gunners as they ran for the cover of blown-up cars along the road and other targets in their shooting range.

Grease Monkey and Gearhead ran out with their barb-wire ropes, Grease monkey swinging one around like a lasso to drag the Gunner Captain back in the most painful way possible.

In fifty seconds from the time, Rowdy fired her dynamite rounds, the rest of the Atom Cats pinning down the Gunner privates, Grease Monkey and Gearhead spotted the one in charge of the rest of them and looped a coil around her arms and legs, and were already dragging the screaming Captain back inside.

The whole fight lasted less than a minute, but that was because they were prepared. Zeke shed his helmet and went to the grill to flip the brahmin legs over before seeing to the Gunner Captain.

She was struggling and howling as the barbs bit at her arms and legs, she was surrounded but the anger in her eyes was a dead refusal to even accept that she was in a no-win situation, and was willing to fight to the end.

“Do your worst, nothing you can do will scare me! I'm not telling you anything! Kill me! Kill me now! Just fucking kill me!”

Zeke shook his head, “Darlin', you got a whole lot wrong with you if you don't realize there's more to life than killin'.”

“Fuck you! The Gunners won't stop until you're all dead! We're going to burn this fucking place to the ground! Your corpses will be split end to end, your heads will be mounted over the gates of Quincy for daring to pick a fight with the Gunners!”

“Alright, you asked for it,” Zeke said, taking his side-arm, a 10mm pistol he unholstered, and was about to raise it when Deacon shouted for Zeke to stop.

“Wait! Zeke, wait. I know how we can get her to talk. Hancock, get Meathead.”

The Changeling was already standing, rounding the corner, pulled from a near-dead sleep by the sounds of the crackerjack rounds going off.

Hancock was about to say Meathead's name when he saw the changeling standing there, bleary-eyed looking at the ghoul and then at the rest of the Atom Cats.

“Meat...” Deacon said, “You got Kellogg to talk, I know you got him to talk. You used your emotional senses, right? That's how you figured out if he was lying or not. You were able to test him out, and keep digging, right? We need you to do that now. Zeke, Meathead has a plan to deal with the Gunners and the Mutants.”

Meathead bowed his head, blinking away the exhaustion, then raised it. “<Yes. But, Zeke? You won't like what I have to say, so just let me finish, and then you'll see what I mean.>”

The Captain of the Gunner squad didn't even register Meathead as anything less than a mutated pony, but she didn't care. She was still trying to struggle out of the bonds that were cutting into her wrists.

“<You are->”

“Fuck what you are!” She screamed. Bluejay stepped closer with his steel-covered boot and kicked her in the head.

“<I need her to deliver a message. She needs most of her teeth and her tongue to do that.>”

The captain spit out a chipped tooth and some blood, coughing but now quieter than before.

“<You're to be my messenger. There are two important messages you need to tell your bosses back in Quincy. Got that? Two. The first will need a little explanation. The mutants on the West side of Quincy, in the Atomatoys Factory. You know about them, yes?”

The Captain stayed motionless, but her emotions were leaking through, “<Oh come on now, do you know why the Mutants are so interested in the Factory? Wouldn't you like to know why they haven't left? Wouldn't you like to know something, anything at all? So you don't go back offering a handful of shit in one hand and nothing in the other? I can tell you, it's not because of the Giddy-up Buttercups! That's for sure. Would you like to know why? All you need to do is nod your head, or say 'Yes', can you do either one of those for me? You can go back to your bosses and at least give them something for your effort here. Since you'll be going back alone with not much to show for your effort here. Let's see...one, two, three, four, five, six bodies I count. That's six Gunners dead because of your leadership against the Atom Cats. So, go back with nothing, or at least something that may redeem yourself. Just say 'Yes, I would like to know more, or if that's still too much, just give us a tiny little head nod.>”

The Captain looked down at the ground for a moment, briefly flicking attention to all the Atom Cats around her, then locked eyes with Meathead again. She nodded a tiny bit but allowed Meathead to continue.

“<Great. So The First message is this. The Atomatoys Factory was being used before the Big War to make and produce land mines. Do you get that?>"

Letting the fact sink in for a moment, the Captain seemed to realize what Meathead was saying, “<You understand?>” Meathead was nodding, and caught the Captain nodding slowly but surely as well along with him.

“<And we all know how smart the Mutants are, right? Now, tell me, do you think the Mutants know this?>”

“No,” She said confidently.

“<Do you think the mutants figured out that they're really inside a bomb factory, or just happened to discover a few land mines and toy parts laying around?>”

“We'll take it over. The Gunners will be in control of the whole Commonwealth soon enough. And All the Rest of you are going to be ashes! Nothing but fuel for the fire! You're-” This time Grease Monkey and Gearhead pulled tighter on the barb-wire ropes, digging into her and making her wheeze out her breath.

“<As long as the mutants are still there,>” Meathead pressed on, keeping the conversation and his eyes focused on the Gunner Captain, <Then the Gunners will never be able to take control of the factory. Because the Gunners are fucking stupider than any brain-dead mutant I've come across! There's no way that even with a full-on assault, all their big guns and heavy hitters, if the Gunners can't take on the humans here in a rinky-dink garage at the end of a peninsula, then there's no God-Damned way in Hell that all the Gunner forces in Quincy combined would ever be able to take on the mutants at the Atomatoys Factory right next door to them! The Gunners are lazy and greedy enough to let the super mutants walk right into Qunicy, and wipe all your X-ed-out skulls and stitched mouth face logos off the face of the earth once and for all. >”

“Hey, fuck you!” The Gunner captain yelled.

“<Prove me wrong, then. You're so focused on trying to get power armor from these guys, but you don't need it. There's power armor scattered from here to the West Coast, and if you can't see that, then those mutants next door in the bomb factory will show up one day and wipe you all out. That is my first message to your bosses.>”

“And the Second?” The Captain asked.

“Careful Meathead,” Hancock said, the tempers hadn't cooled, and his provocations against the Gunners had leeched over to the Atom Cats as well and he was close to crossing the lines.

“<Zeke, how many times in the last month have the Gunners attacked the Garage?>”

He looked towards his gang members for a moment, then held up one hand, but pointed downwards with his pointer finger. “Six times.”

“<You haven't lost anyone, have you?>”

“Nope, we've held them off every time.”

“<Would you like me to send the Gunners a message? A warning they'll get?>”

“These dumb-shits don't know when to quit. I mean, we've tried just about everything short of what she just described...nothing! They just keep sending more warm bodies to replace the cold dead ones.”

“<They haven't seen something like this then. A warning from the Atom Cats.>” Meathead said, focusing on the Gunner Captain “<Next time any Gunner gets close, this is what will happen to them. Gearhead? Grease Monkey? Ease up on her ropes just a bit, I need her sitting up for this.>”

Johnny D. and Roxy clamped their hands down on the Captain's shoulders, forcing her to sit upright on her knees. Meathead examined the two, then inhaled a deep breath through his nose, smelling the air, “<You're right-handed,>” Meathead stated, gauging her emotions and which arm she favored as she was forced to remain still. <Hancock, Deacon? Help pull me off in a moment. I may get over-ambitious of how hungry I am.>” The two companions stepped closer, ready to pull Meathead off, but not entirely sure what it was that he was about to do.

“<Hold out her right arm.>” It took nearly strangling the Captain to fight her right arm up and out for Meathead, and while most of the Atom Cats thought they were about to witness the Changeling bite her hand off, Meathead sunk his teeth into the Captain's arm and drained her. Like a vampire, he pulled blood and emotion from the Captain directly through the contact on her arm, and within seconds, her hand withered up and her muscles depleted. She shrieked and Hancock was already yanking Meathead away. There was a chorus of muttering, mild shock, as Meathead could feel the red flags going up in the Atom Cat's minds.

He felt an arm wrap around his neck and pull backward, in the five seconds he had his teeth sunk into her flesh, the hand and arm turned into a husk of itself, withered and dried like a bright purple violet raisin.

He knew what it felt like to be hungry, and starving like Leighla, and yet he also knew what it felt like to be the parasite as well. He hadn't eaten or taken in raw emotion like that ever in his life. To taste emotion straight from a human-like that was to set a full course meal in front of a starving man, only to let him get a single whiff before Hancock and then Deacon were ripping the entire dinner away.

The Captain struggled and yelled, jerking her arm away at the same time Hancock and Deacon were pulling Meathead away, but found that she didn't have any strength left. Meathead's exhale was filled with a plume of pink mist that he quickly tried to inhale back in, and not let any emotion go to waste.

“<Agh, much better,>” Everyone around the changeling was in a mild state of shock, but they were more surprised that the bug-pony was able to do that and not kill the Captain outright. Meathead shivered and shook, coughing once he spat a black ball of liquid emotion onto the ground. “<So much hate and greed,>” He said. “<Break her left trigger finger so she can't use a gun. When she can walk again, send her back. I'm going to go lay down.>”

Wrapping himself in a faded and dirty blue tarp, Meathead lay in a cleared corner of the garage and fall asleep as the Captain continued to howl.

“You and I are gonna have a long talk when you get up, you know that right?” Zeke called out to Meathead. Looking at Deacon, Zeke asked, “Alright, what the fuck did you just bring into our home?”

“Zeke, look at her for a sec. I've seen feral rabid dogs with more reasoning than this. Meathead's got more going on in his head than most computers I've come across. We let her go crawling back, you'll never have to worry about the Gunners again. ” Deacon replied confidently. His focus was on the Gunner Captain who was shaking, the barb-wire ropes were loose enough for her to move, but she was trapped in her mind, unable to process what happened as the nerves in her hand refused to listen.

“Where do you think you're going? You heard the bug, help me break her trigger fingers so she can't try anything funny.” Rowdy said, stepping closer to finish the task.

\111/

“Play it back again.” Justin Ayo commanded. As head of the Synth Retention Bureau, he was in charge of a plethora of surface information available at his fingertips, but processing everything he was seeing took time and energy to comprehend.

After the mess of three synths' teleporting matrix went haywire, the unicorns monitoring the recall station scanned the destruction of all the pharmacy building rubble that was teleported inside the Institute Teleportation Matrix Relay along with the vaporized synths and studied the remains.

They were able to discover there was latent magic all over the rubble, that magic interfered with the destruction of the three synths they were able to recover most of and determine they were shot, severing the connection mid-teleport. Which resulted in a sphere of space being teleported, rather than the subjects themselves. From what they could ascertain, buckshot and bullets were the cause of the destruction, but some magic was causing interference before the teleport. There was a pull in a quantum direction, one that only a powerful unicorn would've been able to disrupt at the moment of teleportation.

The wall of video monitors and TV screens was broadcasting the battle at South Boston University.

There were hours of ponies moving around, and the arrival of a new one in particular, but piecing together the footage from the synths was proving difficult. Even with multiple different angles, there were small gaps in the timeline where the pony with a blue coat and yellow mane, designated as 'the Vault-pony' simply wasn't in view or quickly moving out of the synths line of sight.

“Alright, comparing the last set of commands transmitted by the synths, they were able to uncover the Dean's Hard-drive. Bad news, it listed the Reactor Efficiency Data was sent here to Cambridge the day before the bombs fell. Li, you and Rocket will just have to keep on crossing your fingers until we get the reactor online. Your hard drive could be sitting in the passenger seat of a blown-out car for all we know, but there's more that we're missing. Move ahead three minutes.” Justin Ayo said to his assistant. The pony in a white lab coat quickly fast-forwarded to the scene of the last remaining synth.

“Alright, Synth number 5S-7B was able to capture the last moments of the group's actions before being destroyed. This Vault Pony approaches from the North, and we don't have a bearing from where he might have come from either. We're checking the Crow Cameras for any sign of where this Vault Pony might have come from, but there's a lot of activity and ground that we don't have covered. However, right here...” Justin Ayo said directing the several Institute scientists and ponies gathered, “Right after the teleportation matrix backfired, we have an image of a pony we haven't seen before.”

From the remaining synth's point of view, the synth Tin-Hut shot, showed the camera view of it falling backward, and then minutes of ground coverage as it crawled along before the synth managed to raise its head. “Look, right here. This black pony. Holes in its legs. Blue mane. A horn. That's indicative of casting magic because before, we can pinpoint that the Vault Pony was right in the same vicinity as the black pony. Moments later, there is no trace of the Vault Pony, and this black pony is in its place. We believe what we are looking at is a pony-chameleon, able to change its shape and outward appearance to mimic its environment and surroundings. We only have a few seconds of it on camera, but if our hypothesis is correct, then this black pony may be the next step in creating an entirely new generation of Synths. To be able to replicate instant mimicry, powered by magic and fusion, Generation 4 synths would surpass even the most human-looking Coursers by being able to instantly change their appearance to blend in with their surroundings or take on new identities without needing to come back to the Institute. The benefits of collecting this creature for study merits the use of Courser Z2-47 for retrieval. As Coursers are permitted more autonomy, this decision to use Z2-47 requires board approval from all members of the board before being submitted to Father. All opposed?”

Silence reigned about the monitoring station except for fans and generators running. “All in favor?”

“Aye,” Director of Robotics, Alan Binet said, intrigued at building a new synth model.

“Aye,” Director of Facilities, Dr. Allie Filmore agreed.

“Aye,” Director of Bioscience, Dr. Clayton Holdren said, enthused by the prospect of a new research subject.

“Aye,” Director of Advanced Systems, Dr. Madison Li said flippantly. Her eyes remained on the image of the black pony frozen on the screen. She gripped her right hand tightly, fingertips digging into her palm. Scraping at her hand, she shook her head trying to remember the last time she'd seen a pony that looked exactly like that.

The mane, the legs, the eyes, the horn. Something, sometime, somewhere her mind was convincing herself that in all her time above the surface, she must have seen a pony like that, but for the life of her, no memory wanted to surface.

“Aye, as well.” Director of the Synth Retention Bureau, Dr. Justin Ayo concluded. “The Ayes have it. Z2-47's deployment will be furthered onto Father for approval in retrieving the black stallion.”

\111/

The Gunner Captain's name was Olivia, but as she was cradling one broken hand in her weakened arm, she didn't know which felt worse off. Her right arm felt like dried timbers, barely able to bend and move, while the other was smashed in. She wouldn't even know how to go to the bathroom properly or eat without assistance.

That was a silent, third message, that the Atom Cats and Meathead were sending by letting her return.

Mess with the Atom Cats, we'll drain one arm dry and crush the other, then how will you fend for yourself?

Olivia couldn't move too quickly as her wounds from the barb-wire ropes were still like pinpricks of fire, and any jostling upset the hot nerves in her hand.

Only after forty-five minutes of walking did she come across the threshold into Quincy. Another ten minutes after that, she was sitting down, being yelled and answers were being demanded from her when all she felt was hunger that she knew she wouldn't be able to save herself.

No matter what she told them about the attack, Gunner Officer Tessa and Sergeant Baker only got madder and angrier. She wasn't even able to mention that the Atom Cats were sending her a message, the opportunity never came up. From failing to even kill a single Atom Cat, to being bound up and tortured by them, they were about ready to beat Olivia to death for making it back alive when she let six other Gunners die under her command.

Finally, the magic words Meathead was waiting for were spoken and Lieutenant Clint, formerly of the Minutemen demanded to know, “At least tell us you found something worthwhile! Anything? Anything at all you stupid-bitch! Give me one reason I shouldn't finish the job right fucking now!” Clint yelled.

“Landmines!” Olivia stammered, “There's a whole bunch of landmines in the Factory the Super-Mutants are holding. Landmines that we can use against them. We can keep the Atom Cats from leaving. Pen them in, make it impossible for them to get in and out without us knowing.”

“And how did you come across this information?” Officer Tessa questioned.

“They were talking about it, how we can drive the mutants from there. They were insulting us, calling us weak and stupid.”

“You're stupid for thinking they would just let you go.” Sergeant Baker said, “They sent you back as a warning. Look at yourself, can't hold a gun, can barely move your hands, whatever the hell they did to your arm, I don't care, and making sure the rest of our men don't see that you failed is the end of your story. You can't serve the Gunners and have no purpose. The more you talk, the more our men get restless. You're a liability, they want us to waste our resources healing you. Resources that we don't need to spend on you. Tessa, show Olivia the way out.”

Olivia barely had time to stand up before being dragged backward by the collar, she was howling to be listened to, that there was more to say, but the Gunners weren't interested in hearing anything. Officer Tessa was wearing a full suit of power armor and a heavy gauntlet around her arm. While expecting to be led back onto the streets of Quincy, she was pushed toward the back of the main church. Where behind the church was a small graveyard plot where graves were already looted and dug up, left ready to fill.

Olivia saw death coming, it was a metal-covered fist with a shock-producing spring equivalent to a jackhammer in a single blow. The power fist caved in Olivia's eye sockets, her jaw, her forehead, and her skull, pinching shut her throat and esophagus. The last thing she ever heard was a metal-pinging whine of Tessa's fist rupturing her eardrums from the surge of blood flooding through her brain.

Her body fell into the grave, and the rest of her skull was spread across the yard. “Fucking Atom Cats,” Tessa said, leaving the body to sprawl out and send up a small plume of dust that settled shortly afterward.

“So what are we going to do about the Atom Cats? They keep killing our men, and we haven't been able to get even one of theirs.” Tessa said, re-entering the main foyer with Clint and Baker talking to each other.

“Lead a group to wipe out these mutants next door. They're getting too comfy where they are and need to be taken out anyway if we're to secure the road from here to GNR plaza. Tessa, you're in charge. Find these landmines, if they exist; Bring them back.”

\111/

Meathead awoke four hours later, quickly inhaling and in a panic state. “<I overslept!>” He said, fumbling to get all four hooves coordinated under him as he trotted into the group of Atom Cats. “<Where's Hancock? Deacon?>” Looking above him the sky was slowly turning darker by the minute. It was almost sundown.

“Easy, Meat. Over here. You hungry?” Hancock called out, sitting aside from him were Roxy, Johhny D., and Gearhead without their armor on.

“<No...Yes! But no! Deacon, Hancock, I need to go. Now! I gotta...Just...I need...>” Meathead's mind was racing, but he could sense a change in the air.

“Ease up there, Meat. The Gunners haven't done anything. We haven't been attacked, and nothing's going on right now. We're just taking a moment to breathe.”

“<You don't understand. Listen...Gearhead, or Grease Monkey, I need one of you to come with me right now.>”

“What's the rush?”

“<I need to get to the Factory. I need to get in there before the Gunners move on it. The mutants won't attack Giddyup Buttercups! I need one of you in your yellow armor, right now.>”

“You can change into a mutant?” Johnny D. asked.

“He can change into a lot of things,” Hancock confirmed. “He's been going around as a human for a bit, I told all of you this hours ago. He just needed some shut-eye.”

“Well,” Grease Monkey looked back at his suit of power armor. “I haven't been close enough to mutants with my yellow armor on for some time now, but you think it'll fool the mutants?”

“<Yes! I know so. The mutants up in Boston were using the Giddyups as pack animals. I can get us inside, and then we can search that place from top to bottom.>”

“Why do you want those landmines so bad? I thought you said the mutants were going to kill the Gunners and they were going to wipe each other out.”

“<I did, but miracles like that don't happen without a little 'priming the engine,' first!>”

“Meathead, I think it's best if we just let things play out, and then go from there.” Deacon said, “You already did enough by being the best watchdog and alerting us for a Gunner attack. As long as we know they're coming, and how they're coming, then they can't get to us. If they start an attack with the Mutants, that solves your problem of having to kill one of yourself and take out a portion of their forces as well. It drains them while we get this chance to get some rest and recover. It's what you should be doing right now too.”

“<Deacon. I know you're concerned for me, but I've got to get there now if I want this to play out in our favor.>” Meathead's wings expanded, buzzing as he lifted off the ground. “<Someone, anyone, I need to have someone cover my ass because it's going to get loud by the time I'm done.>”

Hancock stood up then felt gravity immediately pull him back down, “Awh, crap. I drank too much. Meat, gimme 20 minutes and I'll be there.”

“Meat, you just got your energy back. Are you sure this is the right idea?” Deacon asked.

“<Nate wants things done a certain way if I don't do it like this. Nobody will ever even know what happened.>”

“Why do you want people to know what happened?” Deacon called out. “I thought you were trying to keep your existence a secret!”

“<I am! It's Nate! It's all about Nate!>” Meathead said, feeling that he couldn't find the words to convey, Meathead flew up and out of the Atom Cat's compound. Their shouting drew Zeke and Rowdy from the garage to stare up and wonder why the strange Changeling left in a hurry, but they heard Meathead's final message to them.

“I never got my talk with that thing,” Zeke said. “So who's Nate?” He asked Deacon, then looking to Hancock for answers.

Deacon was about to answer, but found himself short on words, realizing he didn't know much about the vault dweller at all, let alone if he was traveling with the human or the changeling half the time.

“He's the toughest piece of boiled shoe leather this side of the Seaboard,” Hancock slurred. “He took on a Flying Deathcaw in the Glowing Sea with nothing but a ripper knife while Meat and I were knocked sideways through brick walls. He killed the Institute's main man, Kellogg, and left him hanging in the breeze with a noose around his neck. He's the reason why the Gunners are running scared when they even hear a mention of Mr. One-Eleven in a blue suit coming their way. He's a force of nature like a tidal wave, about to come crashing down. Meatheads' like the lifeguard making sure the rest of us don't get swallowed up when the wave finally comes. So if Meathead says we need to get to high ground, then it's time to get!” Trying to stand up again, Hancock shook his head, “Sh'It! I had too much to drink! Damn- Bourbon. Always gets me like this. And Boys! That wave is a' coming. So; Surfs up! Cowabunga!”

\111/

Flying around Quincy, avoiding the Gunner outpost to reach the Atomatoys factory was fairly easy, but in the twenty minutes it took to navigate around the town, the sun set and darkness was quickly closing in.

The swarm of emotions coming from Quincy was much like Mona atop Trinity Tower, something evil was breathing in all the misery like a fine Egyptian perfume. There was too much emotion not to react after the Gunner Captain was sent shambling back. The loss of seven Gunners in a single day caused an effect on the rest, which spread like wildfire from a carelessly-tossed cigarette.

A fire that Meathead sparked, was spreading back toward the Atom Cats, and now towards Atomatoys. When Meathead landed in the middle of a marsh behind the factory, he quickly exhaled and closed his eyes. Focusing on his forehead and directing his thoughts to quiet the rest of his mind down, a green flash of light quickly exposed him, causing two Super-Mutant lookouts to spot him, but he was prepared. Once they saw him, they didn't fire, nor openly react until he got closer.

“What'd you find?” One asked.

“<Thought I saw a human. Nothing.>” And just like that, he wasn't questioned any further. The mutants didn't recognize him, nor pressed for any other information. As he carried his laser rifle around, he made sure not to make eye contact with the others and quickly scoped out the toy factory from the outside. The target that Mona sent him after, he felt layers of emotions coming from inside. While it was easy to get a number on how many mutants there were on the outside, he saw two sleeping next to the concrete walls, with two carrying mini-nukes ready to be primed, and two more with rifles.

From outside, he could hear machines running, and while entering was easy as walking through a giant hole in the wall, he saw three Giddy-Up Buttercups in pristine condition, looking like they just rolled off the production line talking with Big Mack.

His presence went unnoticed, and he looked to the other several production lines. While most of them were inoperable, or defunct, he could see that the only line out of seven working was one for Giddy-up Parts. The rest were all for landmines, but parts and pieces were scattered everywhere.

“NO Pony! I Wanna make more of these! Not more of you!” Big Mack yelled. Gesturing at the disk-shaped land mine, an anti-tank mine, meant to wound and inflict more damage than kill. In the mutant's hands, it looked small, but the shells weren't filled with standard explosives and bearings.

“Big Mack, I'm sorry, but the parts and pieces to keep production of the metal Frisbees just aren't available.” The Giddy-up in a foreman helmet filled Meathead with an odd sense of nostalgia like he was witnessing some part of the past replay itself all over again.

We've put in an order for you as you requested, but we can't get a fix on the delivery date! We're just not getting a response from Corporate!” Buttercup tried to explain. While Giddy-up Buttercup was still trapped in the logical loop that society was up and running, she and the others failed to understand the collapse.

“Head hurts! Need to focus more!”

“The best we can do right now is focus on producing the Best Giddy-up Buttercups we can be!”

“Gonna take a coffee break.” Big Mack said, picking up slang and lingo from the Giddy-ups. Watching Big Mack ascend to the second floor and enter the Foreman's office, a Buttercup approached him and asked if he needed any assistance.

“<I'm on my way to speak to the manager.>” Meathead replied.

“He just went on break, anything I can do to help you until then?”

“<No thank you, I'll find you if I need any assistance.>”

“Alright then, back to burning the midnight oil!” Buttercup cheerily surmised, leaving Meathead to wander the plant.

While he was expecting to find traces of the landmine production, he was quietly shocked when he saw the security door that was the victim of a super-mutant suicider, the reason for the hole in the wall, but the frame around the door was jutting out from the concrete. From all the signs of sledgehammer blows, pickaxes, dents, scratches, and burned blood that the mutants tried tirelessly to open the door, but failed to read the signs marked around the building.

Through illiteracy, the mutants spent what looked like days trying to open a door marked 'Year-End Production, GB'. There was a key reader, functioning through the power supply reactivated, but GB was a sign as clear as day to Meathead. More Giddyup Buttercup parts, or finished models he could only assume, but from taking a mindful look around, out in the parking lot and loading bay was a dilapidated semi-truck, faded green paint that was sure to bear U.S. Army insignia at one point in time, and a cargo container blocked by cars, an overgrown forklift, and pieces of the building that eroded and collapsed over the loading bay area.

There were no more parts or pieces, equipment or material to make more landmines, and with Big Mack's efforts to get the production line up and running, he failed to understand that it was humans who were cobbling the ordinance together. Even though the machines were on, the belts continuously looped as he saw one mutant take a pile of bolts, scrap metal, and garbage, dump it from the second floor directly onto the belt, and then watch as all the junk rolled off the end of the belt into a giant pile.

While smarter than the average mirelurk, these mutants didn't quite seem to understand the logistics of what it took to produce anything. When no landmines failed to appear after their efforts of spreading trash around the production floor, two of the mutants went into a fury rage, smashing and punching the other production lines, warping the metal racks, bashing in the frames, destroying what little there was left.

While Meathead was drawn to the truck, a final emotional shift came from the overseer's office, a revelation.

As Meathead climbed the rubble to pry open the back door to the Army cargo container, he stopped when a large amount of metal began to shift and fall out the door. In the darkness of the night, he saw hundreds of mines all stacked, packed tightly to fit every square inch of space. In his attempt to close the door and force back the hundreds of pounds of metal from all falling out onto the ground, seven landmines fell to the ground. Clattering loudly and making Meathead tense that the 200-year-old mines might go off any moment, he forced the bars to the container back into place and closed it.

Taking a cautionary step away, he held one aloft in his magic, rotating it and looking at the mine from all sides, there were arrows stamped with legible lettering on how to activate the mine.

The change of emotion from anger, and confusion, to sudden clarity, was like a chemical reaction. It put Meathead on edge as he heard heavy breathing, then heavy things being moved around.

Big Mack emerged from the office with a wild look on his face, looking, staring at the world around him, hungry for input and information. His expression was a look of hunger, but not the kind from being hungry, but instead was the urge to take anything worth value. Like a dog protecting a bone, Big Mack discovered something, spent the last several minutes tying armor over his body and was carrying a massive mini-gun wrapped in barbed wire with kitchen knives welded to the end of the barrel.

Without explanation, Big Mack mounted the mini-gun and aimed it straight at the door. Meathead turned away and moved back, bullets ricocheting or embedding themselves into cement. Big Mack ended up killing two mutants as he trained his focus toward the security door that at this point would've been easier to go through the wall. Holes were beginning to appear through the concrete and rebar.

Taking this time to move up and behind Big Mack as the onslaught continued for twenty long seconds.
Meathead went into the office and closed the door, setting the land mine down two steps into the office, he saw a red keycard hanging on a lanyard from a thumbtack pinned to the wall.

As the onslaught of bullets came to an end, Big Mack yelled, heaving the entire mini-gun down onto the production floor, angry that he was out of bullets, but leaving only seconds for Meathead to examine Big Mack's hovel.

Empty vials of Psycho were thrown around, and bags of plastic were wadded up and left everywhere. A Radroach was eating its way through a pile of discarded bones, picking off any of the meat left over. From a single glance at the desk, there were tins of Mentats, mostly all empty and depleted, crushed, some chewed through as Big Mack was eating the whole box, packaging and all, some were only identifiable from the teeth marks torn into them.

With magic being the only option available as Meathead saw Big Mack through the cracked and missing windows coming back to the office, He cast off the mutant disguise and teleported up to the roof.

As Big Mack entered the office, he didn't realize the recently laid landmine was right in front of him, stepping directly onto the old explosive, there was a crunch and then a concussive blast that ripped Big Mack's legs off, splattering his torso against the ceiling before crashing back down. The already trashed office was destroyed beyond recognition.

While Meathead could've shot Big Mack or stabbed him, the level of intensity burning from Big Mack spoke to him. It wouldn't have been enough to shoot or stab him, he needed to die without realizing it. Raising his laser rifle, Meathead focused one tiny burst of magic at the suiciders, flipping the switches to their mini-nukes and activating them. Then, blasting two shots at the suicider as he held the bomb upright, trying to turn it off again, Meathead held up a hoof to block the light of the second explosion of the night.

Thoughts raced through Meathead's mind, ones that he wanted to file away and deal with later at some unknown date, but when the mutants were dead, it was like standing atop the roof with Piper. With all the dead feral ghouls around them, while it was easy, there was a sudden sense of how alone he was. It was against his nature in some ways, he felt. To take life instead of ween energy off of it. How the parasite never outright killed their host, only live long enough to spread and find another one.

With only two mutants left, searching for an intruder, trying to seek him out, Meathead was withdrawn into his thoughts as he felt surrounded by rage and confusion. He felt it, tasted it, and like second-hand smoke, it settled in his lungs.

One mutant was firing blindly in all directions, hoping to scare off whatever attacked them, as the other suicider roaming about had the audible buzz of an active mini-nuke, Meathead realized what Nate was feeling the same day he entered power armor on top of the Museum of Freedom in Concord.

The words seem so distant, but he remembered what Nate said, “Somebody stop me.”

\111/

Of what came next following the fight in Concord, a Deathclaw appeared, forcing the changeling to decide to bring Nate and his path closer together before this long separation. That feeling of death bearing down in unexpected ways was what shook Meathead out of his stupor, raise his rifle, and fired again.

From the Atom Cat's garage, and even closer to the Quincy Ruins, both factions heard the explosions,

With the factory empty of all organic life, only two Giddyup Buttercups remained standing. As interesting as the army truck stuffed with landmines was, there was a fascination that in a short amount of time, Meathead was drawn to the security door inside the Atomatoys factory.

If Big Mack went down to check himself, he would've seen the door fall off its hinges and land squarely on the concrete floor. It was so beaten and battered, holes gouged in it from the numerous attempts to open it, that when Meathead came down to inspect it, the door finally gave away.

Inside was a long storage hall with complete models of Giddyup-Buttercups, fusion cores stacked neatly, ready to be inserted, and the Buttercups ready to be sent out.

While the idea didn't come right away, when it did, Meathead felt bad for thinking it. But at the same time, he knew it would work better than any plan he'd thought about before seeing the contents of the room.

“<Somebody stop me.>” He said to himself, entering the room and picking up the power cores. Inserting them one by one into the unpowered Giddyup models, they all came to life one after the other.

\111/

Grease Monkey was taking the longer route around the Quincy Ruins, sprinting with more reckless abandon after hearing the explosions go off. He knew that by the time he got there, the fighting would be over, or picking up again, and he didn't want to be caught in open ground.

The Atomatoys factory loomed ahead of the Earth pony, but as he ran along in his Giddyup modeled power-armor, a fourth explosion of the night from inside Quincy made him run towards the now silent factory.

He saw the Changeling standing in Nate's form, back on the factory floor. But there was a quietness to Meathead that made him look drained. Not to say that the Changeling wasn't already tired, but the effort of what he did was noticeable even to the bystander.

“Meathead!” He shouted.

“Meathead!? Where are you?”

"Meathead? Are you changed right now?" Grease Monkey asked, saddling up closer to the human lookalike.

“Did you find the land mines?” When the Changeling didn't respond right away, Grease Monkey followed up with another inquiry.

“Meathead? Hey, Meat, I hate to interrupt you here, but I think there were some Gunners on the way.”

“<I know. I took care of them.>

“Wha...what? I saw some running this way. I don't think they noticed that I wasn't a Giddy-”

Meathead was shaking his head, “<That's not why they're running...>”

“Huh?”

“You know. These old Giddyup Buttercups, still think that society is up and running, that people are going out for walks, socializing, playing sports...October is Football Season in America. They play from October and have the championship games in February every year...and here come the Gunners in their football pads ready to play.>”

“What do you mean?”

“<While robots are told not to harm humans, there's a way to logically get around that. It's contractual logic. If you tell a robot in control of a spaceship not to harm humans, and they open the doors to outer space, well, it's not them who killed the humans, it's the vacuum of space that did the job. It's not their fault. They were just following orders.>”

A fifth, and then a sixth explosion occurred one after the other.

“What was that?! What's going on out there?”

"<I fitted a dozen landmines onto Giddyup Buttercups and told them it was football pads, and that it was okay for them to tackle anyone wearing green pads as part of a football game...It's not their fault I rigged them with explosives, they're just playing the game.>

There were eleven Giddy-up Buttercups off the shelves, coated in a dozen land mines each. When they were given the task to play a large game of football with the whole town, it was something they joyfully carried out.

Running through the town, they found the first Gunners receptive, trying to run from them once they saw the ordinance strapped to their bodies. “Tackle!” Was the order they were given, and with glee they tackled any Gunner wearing pads or armor, resulting in eight tackles, with two ponies being shot at to explode, while one blew up from an old mine simply reacting to being jostled too much.

From the worst pages of war in history to it being the inspiration for what Meathead did repeat, he sent out the eleven Giddyups and they blew up eighteen Gunners. While most were grouped close together late at night, standing near fires, talking amongst each other, they weren't prepared for the Giddy-up's appearance, nor when they suddenly tackled one of their members and exploded in all directions.

There was gunfire from the Gunners in Quincy all running or shooting at the Giddyup Buttercups happily running at them. The terror of being tackled next was enough to scatter groups of Gunners but to no avail. The Giddyups were still playing the game as they were destroyed by the opposing team. Something they couldn't rationalize, but the explosions were going off all the same.

All eleven Giddyups sent into Quincy were destroyed, but not all land mines strapped to them were detonated. As they exploded, even old and temperamental as they were, some of the ordinances didn't go off, and when the Gunners were moving closer to examine the destroyed Giddyup Buttercups, one stepped on a mine thrown from them during the blast and caused a second one.

The explosions stopped, and in the three minutes of the Giddyups running into town, twenty-five Gunners were reduced to four who could still stand. Seven of the Gunners were still alive, but bleeding out, wounded, and not likely to receive any medical help from the others as the only four were Officer Tessa, Sergeant Baker, Lieutenant Clint, and a recently promoted Captain to replace Olivia. They were the only ones who were either inside or up on the high ground when the ponies ran through.

\111/

Meathead disguised as Nate, with Grease Monkey walking alongside him, shouted out, “<VAULT-TEC CALLING!>”

One Gunner laying in the street was shaking so badly but filled with so much rage at seeing Nate's appearance, he tried picking up his rifle and pulling the trigger, only to discover his fingers were blown off. That realization seemed to kill him emotionally more than the explosion as he broke down howling and crying, tears of anger and rage that his enemy was this close and he couldn't even form the strength to pull the trigger.

Grease Monkey walked over and stepped on Gunner's leg stump, making him scream and holler. Kicking the gun away, Grease took it and strapped the weapon to his side.

“Little High! Little Low!” The duo heard a shout back.

“It's the Cats!” Grease Monkey said, “Little Hey! Little HO!” He shouted back. Witnessing four Atom Cats dressed in their power armor, along with Deacon surveying the wreckage, he was somewhat shocked at how quickly the Changeling worked.

“Can you believe it?!” Grease Monkey shouted, “Fresh Meat here did all this in one night!” Ecstatic, Meathead felt waves of joy and love for him, acceptance as much he hated the way about getting it.

“Jesus, Meathead. You were gone for half an hour, and you did all this?”

“<Deacon. You're going to hate me. I wasn't in the right state of mind. I was exhausted, starving, and sick. I found the landmines, killed the mutants, then strapped the explosives to a bunch of Giddyup Buttercups and sent them through the town after telling them it was a big game of Football.>” Meathead cried at the last bit, sensing the ring of emotions Deacon was jumping through to understand what happened.

The yellow scrap metal everywhere suddenly clicked in Deacon's mind, “You sent in the robots to deal with the clowns.” He said, taking a second look around himself, “What kind of heartless bastard are you?” He didn't mean it, but the comment was meant for the destruction of the Giddyups, and less so for Gunner's lives lost.

“Ay,” Zeke said, pointing two fingers at Deacon, “This color-changing mutt just saved our bacon and about ten thousand bullets worth of fighting. Andy would've been proud to call him one Crazy Cool Cat. Worthy of wearing our leathers a hundred times over. I guess the only question is, did you get them all?”

Breathing in the pink mist emanating from the Atom Cats, Meathead inhaled deeply and then looked toward the center of town.

“<Four left. Two in the Church, Two on the overpass running over the town.>”

“Well, shit, let's blow them to kingdom come!” Rowdy said, carrying more Crackerjack rounds.

“<No. The ones left are the ones in charge. One of them I was told betrayed the Minutemen and let the Gunners come in. You can do what you want to the rest, but that guy, whoever he is, gets to hang.>”

“Oh shit! You are a crazy bastard, in a good way, though!” Zeke said, looking for the Church. “Oh yeah, I know exactly who you're talking about too. I'll point him out. Lucky you, I got some rope here. Tell me, how do you tie a noose again? Make the loop, then the rabbit goes down the hole, around the base, back-”

From the overpass, Lieutenant Clint fired a flare gun high up into the sky. The red burning marker signaled to all Gunners around Quincy, visible from GNR plaza and even parts of Boston, that they were under attack.

“Well, that made our jobs easier. Bluejay, take to the roofs and see if you can get a bead on this asshole. And Meat, don't worry, I wanna see this guy hang too. Greasy? Go tell Gearhead it's worth it this time.”

Deacon was still accepting the destruction Meathead wrought in such a short time, that he was a step behind the Atom Cats as Rowdy and Roxy charged through the front doors of the Church, they caught Sergeant Baker away from his power armor and Tessa low on power from wearing her suit all day.

As Rowdy lit another crackerjack round and fired it at Baker, the round sailed overhead, bounced off the wall, and then exploded. Instantly deafening the Sergeant, he lost his sense of balance and tried to shout, but couldn't hear anything but the ringing in his ears. As he shot at Rowdy, she charged him and knocked Baker over, grabbing his hands, she pulled his arm and then yanked hard. Throwing him to the ground she grabbed his arm and pulled it back behind him until she heard and felt a pop of his arm being dislocated.

Roxy and Tessa charged at each other through the foyer of the church, locking hands and trying to wrestle the other to the ground, the two power armors creaked and groaned, but the Atom Cat's constant tinkering and modifications were quickly overpowering Gunner's thick armor.

“You and me, Tessa. Ain't I seen you try and charge the Garage before? How's it feel to lose every single one of your men?! Huh!? We ain't even broke a sweat tonight, and a vault-dweller off the street showed up and spanked your asses!”

Meathead in Nate's current appearance set Tessa off as he climbed the steps and entered the church. Running one hand up along the doorframe, he idly examined the fight as Rowdy wrangled Baker, dragging him in front of Meathead and setting her foot on his back. Turning to watch the fight, Roxy and Tessa were trading blows, the two armored fists making loud clangs as they punched at each other.

“Come on! Get 'em! Get 'em! Roxy! You got this!” Rowdy said, cheering her teammate on.

“Meat.”

“<Deacon, I think you should head back to the Railroad, and get that laser rifle broken down. Get the data and edit a copy for me to give to Brian Virgil.>”

“That's what I was thinking too. Listen. I know you're under a lot of pressure, but you don't have to run into situations like this alone. I know you're only doing it for our best interest, and sometimes I have a hard time accepting whatever that best interest may be, but...you're right on this one. I know I may not feel or sound like it to you, but you're right. I just gotta wrap my head around all this craziness first. You're not heartless, that was a mistake I made. The last time I saw this much death, it was my people dying.”

“<Before you leave, there's one more thing you need to see, back at the Factory. But first, we need to finish this.>”

Zeke and Bluejay were in a shootout with Lieutenant Clint and the newly appointed Captain, with the Gunners on the highest ground overlooking the town, they could easily spot the Atom Cats and even hit them, but their power armor was enough to protect them from any bullets that struck.

While Clint and the Captain were waiting for reinforcements to arrive by vertibird, they broke the lift that would take people to and from the street level and broke the ramps from the houses and buildings close to the overpass during the time the Giddyup Buttercups were running. Isolating themselves, they were able to keep track of everyone in town from their position.

Zeke and Bluejay kept Clint and the Captain busy as they traded shots back and forth, knowing that one side was to run out of bullets sooner than the other and to keep the Atom Cats from discovering a way to reach the overpass.

Seven minutes passed, and from GNR plaza, a vertibird loaded with Gunners took off and was headed straight for Quincy. Five kilometers and they were flying low, but as they rose above the town, Gearhead with two thrusters under each yellow metallic wing charged for the vertibird and was able to vastly outmaneuver the giant machine, plowing into the side door and plowing straight through, Gearhead knocked all six Gunners in the passenger area out the other.

They all fell to their deaths as Clint and the Captain watched the vertibird fishtail heavily and recorrect itself as the two pilots fought to gain control again.

Gearhead circled, pivoting mid-air and coming back again to strike at the cockpit. Grabbing the landing supports, he focused all the energy into the thrusters and pushed the vertibird up. Tilting the entire flying machine, it rotated on its Y-axis until it was at 90 degrees and then plunged straight down toward the ground. Gearhead threw himself up into the air, watching as the vertibird and the two pilots crashed into Quincy, taking out two buildings and collapsing the front ends where the machine went up in flames before being consumed in a massive fireball.

With their hope of being rescued burning to cinders, the Captain was first to lose his fighting spirit. Lieutenant Clint wasn't ready to accept defeat, trying to rally a cry of anger, but after several more minutes, and sensing the Captain's fighting spirit wasn't in it anymore, he too came to realize the situation he was in.

Cut off, no backup, no way to resupply or get any more rounds, and food was limited, when his mind went to the water he couldn't even find anything to drink, and that's when he heard the antagonistic call.

“<Vault-Tec Calling!>” Meathead shouted again.

From the vantage point, he could see the ropes around Tessa and Baker's necks, the Atom Cats were hanging the two Gunner commanders, with a third-empty noose waiting for Clint.

“<To the Former Minuteman, turned traitor, for crimes against humanity, this noose is for you! To the other Gunner up there with the liar, Boy, you haven't seen anything yet!>"

Gearhead didn't wait, nor did he hear Meathead's warning, while audible, he came down and tackled the Captain off the overpass as Zeke and Bluejay distracted Clint with gunfire. Depositing the Captain in front of Meathead, Rowdy, Roxy, and Deacon, he was wrapped in wire and left to watch the rest of the scene play out in front of him.

While Gearhead made another pass, Rowdy took out the crackerjack rounds and placed them at the base of the overpass supports.

“I love it when they fight to the end,” Rowdy said to herself, lighting the fuses and running for cover.

The last explosion of the night collapsed the overpass, bringing down tons of rubble, rebar, stationary cars, and cement down onto the Quincy ruins, Clint was laying facedown in the dirt, dragged up by three sets of hands and with skilled practice, ejected from his power-armor. Meathead picked up Clint's laser rifle, examining it once and seeing the old Minuteman logo of a rifle and a lightning bolt crossed over each other, but decorated with Gunner's X-ed skull.

“<Benedict Arnold.>” Meathead said, watching as the Atom Cats dragged Clint to the hangman's noose.

“On one side of the lake, he's considered the worst traitor in American history. A piece of shit who betrayed his country for ties to gold and politics over a thousand miles away. On the other side, he's a national hero and he has a statue in his honor. A commemoration of his service to the British to help quash the unruly American colonies. Tell me, Clint. Do you think you'll be remembered here in Quincy as a piece of shit backstabbing traitor who helped massacre dozens of people? Or as a hero for helping quash an unruly Gunner colony? Do you think you'll have a statue or a headstone? When you're dead, ask the Brits if they sorted out all their issues with the Irish for me, would you?>" Meathead punched Clint across the jaw, slamming him into the ground. “<No need to answer, because only time will tell.> Meathead took a piece of cardboard, wrote a message with a single word on it 'LIAR', and hung it around Clint's neck.

“<Alright, Fuck me. I'm done. Hang him.>”

The Atom Cats looped the noose around his neck and then heaved him up into the air by the rope tossed over the lamppost in the street. He danced and struggled, face turning red, then blue, and purple. They all stood around and watched the Lieutenant expend every last bit of energy until he stopped moving. It was a long five minutes of watching him choke to death, but when he finally stopped. There was a silence hanging over the town for the first time in a long time.

Zeke, Gearhead, Bluejay, Rowdy, and Roxy were all gathered around, feeling serene at the thought of having their Gunner issue and Super Mutant issue dealt with in a single night, by the force of one single person's determination and wild planning.

“Well, that just leaves you,” Zeke said, looking down at the recently promoted Gunner Captain. Pulling out his knife, and sticking the blade close to the Captain's face, he pointed over at Meathead in Nate's appearance.

“You see that man over there, Boy? You know him, don't you? He wiped out your crew in Mass Fusion and sent anyone left packing with broken legs and hands, as a mercy and a warning to others that is will what happen if you mess with Mr. One-Eleven. You mess with him, you mess with the Atom Cats. Do you think tonight was a string of bad luck? Your luck hasn't even begun to run out, because you're the lucky bastard who gets to go home and tell the rest of the boys that this fight is unwinnable. That's your prize for being the last man standing. But here's the thing about messages. You're the messenger, Boy. And, Boy, I would not want to be in your position right now especially considering you were forced to sit here and watch as Tessa, Baker, and Clint were all hung as your backup went up in flames. That doesn't even cover what happened with all the land mines we've got access to now, or the shit-show you Gunners tried to put on this morning. So, by all means, we're going to let you go, but not without a little parting gift. You know I sew my own leathers and patches? I dislike when I try to tell someone to deliver a message, and they get all the words jumbled up. So...no more words. No matter what you say about tonight, the message will still get across. Nice tattoo, by the way, of your little Gunner-skull there, what'd you do? Pen and Needle? Looks rough, probably pen and needle. X on the forehead, mouth all stitched up. Normally we would ask you questions about how many people you got left, or what kind of firepower you're packing, but tonight, I got another mark here for you, now. Hold still, these power-armor gloves can make it difficult to keep my knife-hand straight. Roxy, could you hand me my knitting needles? They're on the back pouch of my armor.”

As Zeke carved a similar message into Boy's forehead, the Captain tried to fight against his bonds, but in the end, the Atom Cats escorted Captain Boy to a kilometer from the GNR plaza and let him go.

Ordered to go straight there, with a sniper rifle aimed at his back the whole time down the road. If he were to stray so much as an inch off the yellow lines, he would feel the bullet chase him down.

As day broke, he reached the GNR plaza proper, and a waiting pool of Gunners who were all first to witness Boy with the giant X carved into Boy's forehead, with the mouth stitched closed with twine. Zeke sewed his mouth shut to keep him from talking as a warning to all other Gunners of what would happen if they tried to attack the Atom Cats.

Holes poked through his lips and thread keeping him from speaking, the other Gunners couldn't even get an answer from Boy until someone came up with a knife to cut the strings. But they knew where he just came from, and that the vertibird should've come back a long time ago.

No one approached him at first, they all knew what happened just by looking at Boy. He had to mumble and beg, moan and cry. Breaking down on the steps, he motioned for a knife, scissors, or anything sharp, but no one wanted to be the first to help him.

\111/

As Gearhead was unloading the landmines from the truck with his magic, carrying them down the road and arming them,

Meathead brought Deacon and Hancock to the security door,

“<Deacon, you ever wonder why we ended up in this world? Were you ever told that ponies and gryphons...Changelings like myself aren't from Earth?>”

“I mean... I know a little about Equestria and Princess Celestia. How there was a conflict between your kind and the ponies that lead them to follow you here, but what are you trying to say?” Deacon asked, not understanding Meathead's line of questioning.

“<You know most of the changelings came here when a Queen used her magic to make the jump across time and space...as far as I was told. That's probably a lie...If I'm thinking about it. Probably some magic rock, or seeing crystal or other old magical relic staff from the land of the lost that the Changelings came across while trying to expand and take over Equestria. We probably looted a magic relic or beacon that put us right in touch with Earth. But the Ponies on the other hand, their magic is strong. You've been around me long enough to see that Changeling magic just doesn't have the weight behind any of our punches. Everything I was told about the ponies though...there were Four Alicorns. One in charge of the Sun. One in charge of the Moon, One in charge of Love, and One in charge of Magic. They all came together and tried to do something here on Earth decades before the Big War. And these Giddyup-Buttercups were part of it. I think they were trying to introduce humans to the concept of sentient Equestrians before things went Sunny-side up.>” Meathead spent the conversation staring through the doorway, seeing the rows of Giddyup Buttercups inactive, with one larger than the rest, all ready and painted for Halloween.

A tall black model with wings, and a port for a unicorn's horn to be fitted into.

All that was required was two fusion cores, and the design was similar to Gearhead's winged power armor.

“<Now why would they go and do a thing like that?>”

Producing the unicorn horn, from Arlen Glass' workshop in Boston, to here in Quincy, it'd been at the back of Meathead's mind for some time now.

“<Kind of makes you wonder if they figured out how to run magic through fusion energy, doesn't it, Deacon?>”

He felt a pull to finish the machine, like a puzzle unfinished and he was holding the final pieces. Inserting the horn into the forehead, loading two fusion cores into the Princess Model.

She was still wired to a terminal that was the Princess' brain. Marginally intact, but with a cracked screen and power still running through it, Meathead pressed the keys to start the program.

Nightmare Moon, the Halloween Variant of Princess Luna from the Giddyup Buttercup line opened her eyes and stared quizzically at the human and the Changeling.

“<Keep her safe, Deacon. Tell her everything. The world isn't ready for a Princess, yet.>”

\111/