Nimbus found himself in a rather grumpy mood later that next morning. Might have been the hangover, considering his head was pounding in pain. Apparently, from what he vaguely remembered of last night, there was a lot, and I mean a lot of drinking to celebrate the Stable’s foals and fillies being returned.

“Never thought I’d partied quite so hard in my life,” Nimbus thought as he tried to fall back to sleep and let the hangover pass in it’s own time. World could do with one less pegasus in it for a while longer, survived this long without them didn’t it?” “Then again, never had much to party about.”

Nearby, in a closet hung his armor and undersuit, with his stolen pistol resting nearby on the bedside table. Call it paranoia, he supposed, but he never really went to sleep without having a gun to wake up to in case someone tried to attack him during the night. Leftover habit from Coltumbia’s civil war.

Nimbus went for his PipBuck, and flipped it on, to listen to the daily blues. He smiled when he heard the familiar voice of DJ-Pon-3 coming from the speakers.

“GOOOOOODDD MORNING Equestrian Wasteland, I’m sorry, did that wake you up? Well, you should be up and ‘atom’ by now anyways. Sorry for the poor pun, I just couldn’t resist. ‘Bout the only good thing I can do sometimes, it seems, making Y'all laugh your asses off.

“So, it makes me jealous then, that there’s ponies out there doing good in the wastes, like Scootaloo for example. I know I’ve been going on and on about this mare for ages, but show her a little love eh? Sure, she created the Stables and a few of them went all pear-shaped, but she’s making up for it. Doing a hell of a lot more good fieldwork wise than I am, that’s for sure. All I do, deliver the news and keep you up to date, and informed on what’s what.

“Speaking of do-gooders, I’ve got news for you. Anyone know of a small settlement called Hollow Shades? If not, I’m not really all the surprised. I say settlement with the greatest generosity I can muster, as really, it’s a ruined mess of buildings hundreds of years old -Pre-war in fact- just waiting to be taken over by Raiders, the little bastards. But you don’t really care about the history of places nobody could really give a damn about do you?

“No, what you care about, is ponies doing a hell of a lot more than most of you are probably doing, sitting on your asses just waiting for whatever comes next. Okay, so a little birdie told me, and I admit, this is rather unfortunate that a rogue group -And I must stress rogue- of NCR soldiers took over a building in Hollow Shades, and made it into their own private pot house. Even kidnapped some local foals and fillies from a nearby stable to help ‘em out! Now, if that doesn’t get your blood boiling, I thankfully, have some good news to calm y’all down.

“Remember when I mentioned something on Mount Pleasant Island blowing sky-high? Well, apparently I’ve been in touch with the head of the NCR, the real one, and they sent out a crew to take out whatever Stormy Skies’s little group was doing there. And get this! Another little birdie, told me that Henri’s group, as in Henrietta Firebright, hooked up with a former Enclave soldier who decided he’d had enough of it all and decided to lend a helping hoof. Never thought I’d see the day when a member of Stormy Skies’s little band of nutballs lends a helping hoof to anyone. But back to the pothouse story, apparently he (With Stormy himself calling our new ally the ‘Morningstar’ fittingly enough) and Henri’s group just arrived on-shore recently back on the mainland, and dealt with this problem, and returned the kids to their parents. So dude, whoever you are, I salute you. This is for you, man. Sing it Sweetie!”

“Well I was born an original sinner,
I was borne from original sin.
And if I had a bit
For all the things I've done
There'd be a mountain of money
Piled up to my chin… (Hey!)

“My mama told me good
My mama told me strong.
She said “be true to yourself
And you can't go wrong.”
“But there's just one thing
That you must understand.”
“You can fool with your brother -
But don't mess with a missionary man.”

“Okay, so it seems I’m famous now,” Nimbus grumbled. “Not really sure how I feel about that. I honestly preferred it when everyone wanted to shoot me.”

He heard a low groan come from his left side, and on pure instinct, Nimbus went for his pistol, and turned it to the source of the sound. From under the covers, to his right, was another pony, spooning him with hooves around his barrel. He recognized the pony alright, it was Sugar. Guess she really wanted to thank him for saving her son, he chuckled.

Putting the gun aside, he nibbled at her neck slightly making the pony emit a slight moan. “Time to wake up, ‘honey’.

“...Just five more minutes, please dear,” Sugar mumbled in her partially awake state. Nimbus smiled and nuzzled her, still wondering what the hell kind of party did he get involved in last night. He groaned to himself as the memories came flooding back.

Nimbus drowned another glass of whiskey, before tossing the empty bottle behind him. Dance music pounded behind him, with the sound of Velvet Remedy’s admittedly augmented voice coming through speakers.

“...I’ve been told to turn the other cheek and rise above it
But the weather is perfect, so all expect worship,
but I think they can shove it

“I bite my tongue, choke, swallow and smile when I’m around her
But it’s tough to be manic, ‘bout the aerodynamic when there’s
All these wiseguy pegasi flyin' by screamin': “Suck it grounders!”

“I give up! Whatever, I tried and I'll never crack your clique cuz I don't go Mach V
countin’ down the days, 'til you crash and witness how gravity makes the rest of us it’s dirty little mistress.

“If there was a race in life you'd win.
I'll be here below the stratosphere while you stay in it
Go get your camera, it's the last time I'll be by
Flexing your wings, it’s all you do, it's depressing

“(Oh and watch out for lightning and turbulence, when you splat it's really nasty.)

“To hell with your flapping, all your wings need a wrapping
but we’ll all die happy
never bein' fly like you
never bein’ fly like you…”

“Why would you drink that swill?” The old flammer from the Hoof asked.

“A better question is, why the Hell not?” Nimbus replied curtly.

“Well the bartender, Sugar can make some pretty nice drinks. Why not have her make something for you?” Flamethrower chuckled, drinking from a strange fluid causing his mouth to steam.

“I… I think I’ll pass on it.” Nimbus commented, noting the effect.

“You think she made this?” He lifted the drink laughing. “No no, this is my own drink. A little bit of lighter fluid booze and soda with a match wonderful.”

“...Remind me to never ask you for drinks sometime, lest I kill myself with some of that poison,” Nimbus muttered, and looked behind him only to sigh. At a nearby pool table, Riptalon was managing to hustle the Stable-Dwellers out of their caps. He was doing quite well. Twilight had left long ago, declaring this whole thing a grand show of idiocy. Privately, -although he’d never let her have the satisfaction of being right- he agreed with her. “Mind you, you can see why I’ve been driven to drink, given the morons I have to put up with.”

Flamethrower laughed softly. “Try dealing with an old detective ghoul who speaks to himself in the third person. Then do an entire mystery with him and protect his home while he speaks to himself and saying everything around me is in black and white.” He sighed shaking his head.

“Silver Spade Chronicles fan?” Nimbus deadpanned. “I know a mare, back where I come from, who’s quite the fan. Mare, I did say that. Yes, feel free to gasp in shock.” he stated flatly.

“He never read them or at least he never he told me he did so he just did it for the hell of it for all can I guess,” He just stared at Nimbus. “Boy, have you ever been laid or not because you act like a hard ass.”

Nimbus burst out laughing, after of course downing another drink. “May have been laid a few times in the past,” he replied. “My brother, not so much. Too strung up on religion to think of sex before marriage.”

“Ah, I used to be married myself. I met her in this stable we have had a few foals together. Eh age and all that tends to beat you,”

“Tell me about it. I’m… what, forty-something and already I get back pains!” Nimbus snorted into his beer.

“Heh, old age yes. Why do you think I am happy I left the Hoof before that mare showed up? How would I be able to handle something like that? Crazy insane… blew up someone.”

“No shit,” Nimbus replied. “Was it a dragon named Mr. Topaz, or is it someone else I’m thinking of who pulled that off?”

“No, you’re thinking of Littlepip blowing up a dragon. But anyway, ah, so you know about ‘Security’ as well. Blackjack, the loon of a mare.” He face-hoofed. “I was even recalled because of her. I said no thank you!”

“Every time I hear a story about that mare, I just wonder if fate is playing some large joke with me. Seriously, a mare like that, cannot by any means exist!” Nimbus shouted.

“Well that’s what I said about another creature till I saw her grave,” Flamethrower replied. Nimbus meanwhile, shot a speaker with his pistol muttering how that’d shut things up. Ponies groaned, but he really didn’t seem to care.

“Tiria?” Nimbus asked, raising an eyebrow. “I hear things.”

“Yes, you’ll hear more stories from Silver. He acts like he has no emotions but when he speaks of her,” Flamethrower shook his head sadly. “He just grows very distant like he’s reliving her death.”

“Yeah… I know how that feels…” Nimbus muttered as he thought of his brother going up in explosion and fire in the sky, having that look in his eyes.

“Well I find this world peaceful. It may get dull as I can’t burn anything anymore. But I feel that I was given a good fate in life.”

“True enough,” Nimbus replied, clinking his glass against the old war vet’s own.

“To the dead?” Flamethrower asked.

“To the dead.” Nimbus replied.

Now, Nimbus mused to himself, the question was, how the hell did he end up in bed with Sugar? He groaned once more, a very familiar feeling at this point, as more memories came flying back.

Sugar, a yellow unicorn mare set down a strange fluid with an amber tint to it in front of Nimbus. He didn’t dare touch it.

“Why do I have the feeling I don’t want to drink this?” he asked, very nervously. “Seriously, for all I know this could be a date-rape drug!”

She laughed her head off at him. “Oh really? I am a mare from the mountains in a land called Wymarnic. So this is a drink for a real stallion are you a real stallion or a fool?” She gave a sweet smile.

“Oh, is that a challenge?” Nimbus asked, reaching for the glass eyebrow raised. “Because I do love a challenge. What’s in it?” he asked. He was probably tempting fate in hindsight.

“It’s an old Buffalo Hoof secret.” She smirked.

“I won’t tell,” Nimbus smirked back. “Good secret keeper, me.”

“Hmm it’s hard to find these out of that area. But it’s a flower that’s known as red crab. It only shows up after rain and then a few pints of booze here and there, with vodka added in. Then grounded up is a bit of a meat.”

Nimbus looked nervous, but shrugged muttering “I’ll try anything once…” and drank. “Good shit.” he eventually said.

“Good, most have acid trips and lose their minds.” Sugar replied, in one of those tones that made it impossible to tell if she was just joking.

Nimbus, very discreetly, moved the glass away from him muttering: “They’re all trying to poison me…”

She shrugged taking the drink drinking it all in one gulp. “Your loss.”

“If I may, how did your husband… How did he die I mean?” Nimbus asked, trying to be rather delicate about the subject.

“Well it’s a long story. Well, I met my husband when he first ended up in that land. He came with the others to find secrets of ponies known as the Blue Hats. I was charged in well... watching him really. No sense beating around the bush. Since outsiders aren't that welcomed, you must understand. He started joking around calling me beautiful…” Sugar explained. “But he asked me to marry him right there.” she sighed wistfully.

“You punched him, didn’t you?” Nimbus asked.

“Well, of course, I was part of a gang called the Black Aces,” she smirked. “ You think I would just let him sit there and call me a beauty and all that?”

“Well, to be perfectly fair, you are a beautiful mare,” Nimbus remarked.

“Don’t worry we aren’t in the mountains anymore,” she reassured. “But thank you all the same. Now we left because after everything said and done. With all the killings of trying to find these secrets. I was demanded by a pony named Smoke Pipe. He asked me to run with him, get him out of there before the ponies of that land along with the Zebras try to kill him for what they caused,” She sighed a bit again. “But I did what the old ghoul asked and ended up here after our first foal. Then he died of heart failure. It was something that he was given while we were there at the mountains land.”

“I’m… sorry for asking. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you I’ll gladly do it.” Nimbus apologized, looking rather ashamed of himself.

“Well thank you’re a good stallion. You’re impressive for how kind you are. I'm used to seeing these stallions from the outside thinking they’re Celestia’s gift to mares. Of course, a few mares I have met are even worse than that,” Sugar replied.

“Geez, I’d hate to see that.” Nimbus joked. Out of the blue, Sugar kissed Nimbus full on the lips, and pulled away panting and sweating. “Well, haven’t had that in a long time…” Nimbus muttered.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Sugar laughed, blushing as she did so. “I don’t know what came over me!”

Sugar blinks feeling a hoof on her shoulder as the old buck Flamethrower whispers to her. Nimbus could hear from Flamethrower a few words. ‘Be happy again.’

“How long has it been?” Nimbus asked.

“Uh… I’m thirty years old so..” She thinks a moment. “Ten years.”

“Far too long, if you ask me,” Nimbus commented, with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Well I have been waiting for a stallion to well take up what my husband, Celestia rest his soul, used to be to me,” Sugar sighed sadly. “I don’t expect it back. I just... Well, my foal is all I have left of him. I don’t regret leaving that land. I miss those rare nights when it wasn’t raining and how the land was poisoned before the war ended. Oh just surviving was wonderful. These days everything is given to me. Please, make me feel like a mare again.”

Nimbus’ jaw dropped at the sheer bluntness of the request. “I… I…” he stammered out, searching for words, but then he saw the look in Sugar’s eyes and decided: “To hell with it!” and gave in.

Flamethrower slowly walked away and then gave Nimbus a whisper. “You hurt you her boy, I burn you.” He patted Nimbus head walking away. Next thing Nimbus knew, he was in Sugar’s quarters, shoved up against a wall and being kissed quite passionately as Sugar removed his armor piece by piece, before unzipping his undersuit and tossing that aside. All the while, she peppered his face with kisses.

Next thing Nimbus knew, was him falling into the bed sheets, before flipping Sugar over so he was on top of her. “You control the bar talk, here? Not so much…” Nimbus remarked, with Sugar smiling seductively at him.

Nimbus slowly watched his new ‘friend’ of sorts wake. He groaned, and sighed. Least he wasn’t watching her sleep, that’d be creepy. Like bad romance novel creepy. And Celestia knew he’d seen some of his fellow pegasi back in Coltumbia write some pretty bad ones.

“Morning,” Nimbus said softly, as he gave Sugar a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning…” Sugar smiled. “Now, you know that was just a one-time thing right?”

“Knew that perfectly well,” Nimbus replied. “Honestly, if I could, I probably would settle down with someone, but honestly, I don’t really have the time.”

“Bull,” Sugar told him. “I’ve seen where your heart lies. Seen you looking at that griffon friend of yours. What’s stopping you? Fear of him crushing you in bed?” she joked.

Nimbus, his expression said it all. Sugar couldn’t really help herself, and burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re too cute. Really, you are. Riptalon, lucky griffon.”

“...Slight problem with that, really,” Nimbus replied after he’d regained the power of speech. “Pretty sure he’s hung up over a friend of mine. A dead friend.” he quickly clarified.

“Then tell him to pull his head out of his ass, simple as that.” Sugar replied, before throwing him, his pistol, and clothing out of the room, and shutting the door. Nimbus groaned as he picked himself up off the ground and dressed himself. Yep, headache wasn’t getting any better.

“So,” Flamethrower leaned on the wall cleaning an old laser rifle. “How did it go?” he asked with a grin.

“From what little I remember without my head hurting, hot, dirty, nasty… I could probably go on, but you get the picture.” Nimbus deadpanned. One must start to wonder by now, was that his default tone?

“Ah, I see she kicked you out then. I’m sorry about that. I felt that she needed at least a good rutting with a stallion.”

“Sympathy for the devil, mate. Sympathy,” Nimbus replied. “All it was to us.”

He laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure on that no protection right?”

Nimbus didn’t say a word.

“Eh, none of my need to know. I may have known her when she was part of the gangs. But eh she saved my ass many times.”

“Remind me to thank you for this,” Nimbus replied flatly. “Preferably by punching you in the face.”

He laughed. “Good luck with that. Silver is still here he would think that you’re trying to kill me for some reason. He thinks any violence in a place like this should mean death.”

“Great, so a mad robot!” Nimbus sighed, rubbing his temples with a wing. “Agh, anyways… Where’s the rest of my little group? Well, Henri’s little group to be more accurate.”

“Your friends are around. It’s hard to keep track of every pony in a stable.”

Nimbus’s only response was to flip him off with a wing, and walk off looking for his friends. Eventually, he did find them, with Riptalon talking to Target about weaponry and comparing notes on kills. Twilight was fiddling with Starglow’s mane for whatever reason, must have been the mother in her. And Henri? Nowhere to be found.

“Anyone seen the boss?” Target asked, as she put End of the Line back in it’s resting place on her back.

“Left earlier this morning, from what I heard,” Twilight replied, and everyone looked at her. “She said something about needing to get back to somewhere called Junction Town, journey she had to take alone, and only alone.”

“...Please tell me you’re kidding,” Riptalon said flatly. “She’s gotta have gone suicidal on us, probably hoping to run into a Deathclaw or something!”

“No, she sounded very serious about this,” Twilight replied. “Quite firm, left no room for argument. So, didn’t stop her,”

“Yeah, that’s Henri alright,” Riptalon sighed, using one of his wings to rub his temples. “You and her, make quite the perfect couple, really if you were asking me. Both stubborn as Hell.”

“Oh, so you’re playing matchmaker now are you? First teaching Starglow how to shoot something or at least promising to, and now this!” a voice said to Riptalon, and he looked to his left. A midnight black pony, with burning orange eyes and an entire body that looked half-melted.

“Just… just trying to do some good in the world, that’s all. And for the record, I did teach Starglow how to shoot something, went down to the bowels of this place and helped clear out a Radroach infestation in the process, quite the good shot with the proper teacher turns out,” he whispered in reply, wondering why nobody else could see this pony. Twilight did quirk an eyebrow at his whisperings though, for whatever it was worth.

“You know why nobody else can,” Midnight smirked. “Speaking of things nobody else has seen in ages, whatever happened to that magazine of mine, that playpony one with the former bad girl, who could give Nimbus Breaker a run for his money. Cause goddamn, if he doesn’t look sexy in that Fizzlepop-inspired armor!”

“You do realize she’s been dead for over 200 years, and Twilight’s ex at that?”

“Buck can dream right? Well, okay, a dead buck but you get my point right?” Midnight’s ghost asked. “Agh, speaking of Nimbus, or Iron, or whatever he chooses to call himself, tell me, why you letting him keep that Lyra doll that’s apparently rightfully mine? He considers me a traitor, a sell-out to the Enclave! He’s never going to give me a proper burial, so to speak.”

Riptalon forced the image away with a small growl. Sooner they got out of this place, the better, starting to make him see things. “Never mind the fact that I’ve been seeing this idiot ever since we returned to the mainland…” Riptalon thought to himself.

“You okay mate?” Nimbus asked, draping a wing around him. Friendship, he could settle for that. “You’ve been talking to yourself ever since we got back to Equestria proper.”

“Fine, just fine,” Riptalon quickly lied. Nimbus quirked an eyebrow, but thought nothing better of it. “Say, just a question, but are you going to give Midnight a proper burial of sorts? Or at least a eulogy?” he asked.

“Honestly, until I’m sure he didn’t sell us out, no. No, I’m not,” Nimbus said, and quickly changed the subject. “So, how did Starglow’s target practice go?”

And so Riptalon explained.

“Okay kid,” Riptalon explained, looking down at the pink filly beneath him, Starglow now having been given a Pipbuck fitted to her size. In her hooves, was the energy pistol they’d found in that lab -Somnambula something or other- back on Mount Pleasant Island. “All you got to do, activate the S.A.T.S. mode and blow those roaches to little, itty bitty pieces. Sound easy? ...Just uh, don’t hit the water talisman. Pretty sure that’s a bad thing.” he added quickly, and nervously. He looked at the BB Gun in his hooves, wondering if he should have given her that instead.

To his surprise, Starglow picked up on his instructions fairly quickly, and managed to shoot each Radroach in front of her in quick, rapid succession. Like shooting fish in a barrel really, never had much of a chance.

As lights flashed, the massive stable door began to open, and the group was greeted with the very welcome sight of sunlight. After spending at least a week in rainy, mist-covered environments, Celestia’s sun returning to greet them was a very welcome sight indeed.

“Sun is shinin' in the sky, yhere ain't a cloud in sight
And don't you know, It's a beautiful new day, hey hey…” Target hummed to herself, before her nose wrinkled up as the stench hit her. Smelled like something that had left in the sun to rot for a few days, if she had to make a comparison. She really knew of only one thing that could give off that sort of putrid stench.

“So, heard you’re down a griff!” a cheery voice greeted as a winged ghoul with beautiful turquoise eyes and a happy smile stepped out of the shadows, followed by a golden-furred pony, with black stripes covering his coat and a sword on his back. Target raised an eyebrow at that, that was a new one for sure.

“So, will I make do?” the griffon asked, holding out a set of knives that seemed to be made from Hellhound claws if Target’s guess was of any accuracy.

“G-Gabby?” Twilight whispered in shock, fighting back tears. It seemed this ‘Gabby’ wasn’t far behind, as she ran towards Twilight, dropping her knives as she did so, and embracing the Alicorn in a hug.

“How… How are you still alive?” Gabby asked. “You’re supposed to be dead!”

“I was actually, and then I wasn’t. It’s a very long story,” Twilight laughed through her tears. “Oh Gabby, it’s so nice to see a familiar face, even a ghoulified one,”

“S-Same.” Gabby replied, nuzzling the former Princess of Friendship.

“Okay, can I have a cast list here? Am I missing something?” the zorse -Because really, what else could he be, Target mused- exclaimed in confusion.

“Er, what’s your name?” Target asked.

“Jabari. Jabari Swift. Yes, I know my name means swift swift, so sue me,” he deadpanned. “Now… Will somepony explain to me what the Hell is going on here!?!”

“Well, Jabari, pleased to meet you. This is Gabrielle Gruff, or Gabby the Griffon as everyone liked to call her when she was alive,”

“You sound as if you knew her,” Jabari remarked.

“I did, name’s Twilight Sparkle. Yes, that one,” Twilight replied, in a deadpan tone, before she cheered up considerably. “Okay, now I apologize in advance if you sound like something I’d put in a science experiment, but you’re an interesting one. A zorse, never thought I’d see the like in my lifetime,” she said in excitement, though if you listened closely, you could detect a hint of melancholiness in her tone.

“Yep, one in a million, for what it’s worth,” Jabari replied before muttering: “For good or for ill.”

“So, what are you two doing here,” Riptalon commented. “Have to ask really,”

“Your boss, the griffon in the NCR, sent us towards Mount Pleasant Island to give you some back-up, that’s all,” Jabari explained. “Seems we missed all the fun, if the radio chatter’s any indication,”

“Fun being the operative word there,” Riptalon grumbled. “Still washing the blood out of my fur, keep on finding it in places I didn’t even know I had!”

“Well, time to get moving,” Nimbus said, adjusting his saddlebags. Everyone noticed the stench of sex wafting off him but was kind enough not to bring it up. “I’m ever-so-curious as to see this Junction Town everybody’s always yammering on about.”

With that, the newly strengthened party left the Stable, and set off into the Wastes…

In hindsight, maybe leaving the Stable was a terrible idea, Nimbus mused. The rain and mist had been replaced with a scorching sun that beat down upon everyone, and was quite honestly making his hangover all the more unbearable.

“Oh for the love for Celestia’s nether regions…” Nimbus grumbled to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Whose fucking idea was this, to replace rain and pea soup fog with this?” he yelled to no one in particular.

“Swear to Gawd, what was Littlepip thinking?” Riptalon grumbled. “She’s in control of the weather now, so why make it burning hot? Sure, sun is shining, and it’s a brand new day without a cloud in sight but that doesn’t make it a fucking good thing!” he roared.

“This what it’s always like with you guys?” Jabari asked Twilight.

“Far as I can tell… Yes,” she replied flatly, in rather a bad mood herself thanks to the weather, Nimbus and Riptalon’s bitching and her headache thanks to the loud music from last night’s party. “By Luna’s withers, this is probably, by bar none, worst day in the Equestrian Wastes I’ve suffered so far yet, and I’ve got a lot of days to compare it to.”

Little did she know, it was about to get far worse as things tended to often do. Because really, name me one day when a group of Wastelanders had it easy in any form.

“Does anyone know if the Pipbuck can pick up weather patterns?” Nimbus asked. “Seriously, I’ve love to know if rain’s on the way. I don’t care if it soaks us to the bone, anything’s better than… this! Hell, even Raiders shouting at the top of their lungs about how they’re going to kill all of us and steal whatever we have would be better than this! Because… because this is dogshit weather right here!”

Surprisingly, neither Riptalon nor Nimbus got zapped by Starglow for their language. And that was because Starglow was fast asleep on Twilight’s back, choosing to snooze the day away. Not that anyone could blame her, between the heat of the afternoon and the week she’d probably had dodging both literal and metaphorical bullets she deserved some rest.

“Ain’t no harm in checking really,” Target shrugged, fanning herself with her Stetson. “Hell, I’ll do it for you.”

With that, she turned on her Pipbuck and was greeted with the news.

“Afternoon, Wastelanders. I’m really sorry ‘bout the weather today if you’re in the old Fillydelphia Fun Farm regions. Still, could be worse, you could be under Red-Eye’s old iron hoof. Still, I’ll see if I can get my fellow DJ Homage on the horn, and ask her to tell her marefriend to turn down the hear and send us some rain eh?

“But actually, got some important news for all you Fortunate Son wannabes out there. No, I’m not going to make a Senator’s son joke, too easy. Listen, if you’re a Wasteland do-gooder, like our new and dear friend the Morningstar, avoid the Fillydelphia Fun Farm area at ALL costs! Yes, this means you, with all of your Power Armor and heavy weaponry, don’t go sticking your necks out for the ponies trapped there unless your name is Blackjack or you’re some other type of One-Mare army, because right now, that area’s in a mess of shit piled as high as the Rambling Rock Ridges.”

“...Wait, aren’t we in that area?” Riptalon asked, having one of those “Oh crap” looks on his face.

“Yeeeeah, I think we are,” Jabari swallowed nervously, and continued listening in as the whole party came to a halt to see what’s what and why DJ-Pon-3 was exactly so nervous.

“For those of you not in the know, I’ll continue what’s been going on, reiterate a little. Basically, ‘bout a month or so back, this Ministry factory started churning out robot after robot. Originally, these bots were MoM, just designed to keep everypony’s spirits up, never meant for war. Guess when we knew the war against the Zebras was turning against us, factory stopped production and the metal used for it was rerouted for more important things, like guns. Not sure how it became active again, maybe some Raider flicked a switch just for the shits and giggles, who’s to say? Hope it got him or her killed, as right now some NCR troopers are bogged down in the trenches outside the Factory going through ammo and whatever rocks they can find to throw and trying to keep the whole mess from spilling out into Equestria proper. I salute them, but there’s no other way of saying it. Sooner or later, the ammo’s going to run out, and we’re all in big trouble unless somebody shuts that factory down for good. So please, Calamity Deadshot or whoever else from Littlepip or Blackjack’s group is listening, get your asses over there and lend a hoof m’kay? Please, for all our sakes. This is DJ-Pon-3 signing off, hopefully not for the last time…”

“That settles it,” Riptalon snarled, reaching for Lawgiver. “Long as we’re here, might as well do some good. Jabari, you missed out on your first chance at Wasteland heroics didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind…” the Zorse answered, understandably nervous.

“Tough luck, I don’t think anypony else is even near these guy’s locations, so we’re it,” Riptalon growled, loading up his rifle. Midnight appeared beside him, shaking his head in disapproval.

“So, now you’re getting your new kid killed as well, or do you have a death wish and want to join me six feet under? Which is it?” the ghost asked.

“Shut up,” Riptalon told him, his voice coming out as a hiss. Behind him, Nimbus and Twilight shared a concerned look, seeing Riptalon talking to thin air this often, it was rather concerning to say the least. “I’m just doing what nobody else can do, and saving a few ponies lives.”

“Hold up,” Target spoke up. “I’m all for saving anyone and everyone I can, but what about Starglow. No way in Hell am I having a filly’s death on my conscience.”

“She’s no safer there, than anyone else,” Riptalon growled back at her, towering over the Earth Pony mare. “Besides, if she dies, might as well be a mercy, way I see it. Be with her moms again.”

With that, he said nothing more on the matter.

Fillydelphia: No Man’s Land

Gunfire was the first thing that reached Riptalon’s ears, as he entered what could possibly only be described as ‘Hell on Equestria.’ He was in a trench, diving for cover as bullets flew over his head, just barely missing him by inches. A mile or so ahead, was a massive factory churning out smoke billowing high into the sky, guarded by Pinkie Pie robots, mounted at turrets firing everything that had at the last of the brave NCR soldiers still holding the line.

Nimbus, as he went into S.A.T.S. mode pulled out his pistol, and fired off three shots in quick succession, hitting a turret and blowing it sky-high in a billowing tower of fire before he dived for cover.

“Whew, never seen a buck crazy as you before!” a tan unicorn with a cog for a Cutie Mark, holding a laser rifle said, as he took a shot at one of the gunners. A red beam of pure magical energy arced and scored a headshot. “Name’s Stripped Gear, been here for about a month, as you might imagine, and been losing men by the dozens thanks to those… things. Honestly, when I signed on for security duty, I was expecting to deal with the Enclave. ‘Stead, got something far worse. Machine gun firing nutcases screaming out “Fun!” over and over as they cut us down.”

“So, I assume you’re the commander of this little regiment?” Twilight asked Stripped Gear, as she handed off Starglow to a unicorn medic, with crimson red fur, and an orange mane. She caught the name, Flashfire. He nodded in understanding, although he did give Twilight an odd look like she seemed familiar to him somehow. But all the same, he went into the underground tunnels below them.

“Hardly, second in command. Before that, I was only a simple lieutenant,” Stripped replied. “That is, before our real second in command bought it. Only one pony aside from my commander really cares about us out here, and that’d be Monsieur Death.”

“Well, we’ll see about changing that,” Twilight replied.

“Suit yourself, but I don’t expect you to last long over here,” Stripped said in a mournful tone. “This place takes up soldiers and chews them up, before spitting them out in a bloody heap. Why do you think nobody’s come to help us? Because nobody gives a damn about us. We’re just soldiers on the front line of a suicidal battle. Our names won’t be remembered.”

Flashfire returned, and with a Zebra Rifle in hand. Shots rattled from the barrel, and in the distance, Nimbus could vaguely make out Pinkie-Bots catching ablaze.

“Just tell me,” Twilight asked. “Who’s your commander here? Where can I find him?”

“Trust me, mademoiselle,” Flashfire replied. “You’ll find him quite quick. Just look for the stallion in the armor, with the very big gun,” he explained, before shouting in Prench: “D'accord, petits diables, vous voulez la mort? Venez en chercher!” as he fired off several more shots.

“...Violent for a medic, isn’t he?” Jabari observed, master of the understatement. Clearly. “I thought that they were the peaceful sort,”

“You get all kinds…” Riptalon muttered, before he heard the distinct thunder of a minigun, and looked straight ahead to see a member of Applejack’s Rangers in full Power Armor, cutting down anything in his way. He clearly intended to fight to the last, protect what little remained of his troop. Riptalon was vaguely reminded of that old phrase about a captain and his ship.

Suddenly, a mortar sent him flying into the dirt, and a helmet rolled off to reveal a pure white furred unicorn, with a long golden mane, blood leaking from his forehead. The minigun clattered to the ground.

“Commandant Soulshine!” Flashfire shouted, as he rushed over and checked the unicorn’s injuries. Jabari didn’t know why at the time, but his heart beat just a little faster upon seeing the injured unicorn. He felt blood rush to his face, and rushed over.

“Alright,” Jabari said as he helped Flashfire strip Soulshine of his armor, parts flying off in an orange hue of magic. “Feel a few busted ribs, blast probably caused that when it sent him flying.”

“You a medic, sir?” Flashfire asked.

“Of sorts,” Jabari lied, having had to patch himself up a few times after battles to the death in the arena back at a certain camp. So it was fair to say he did know a thing or two about field medicine.

“Good, then help me patch him up, and get him underground, back into the tunnels,” Flashfire ordered. Jabari nodded, and helped lift the rather large unicorn up, and carry him down into the underground tunnels below the trenches. Jabari let out a low whistle as he found himself in a fully functioning command center. Well, about as fully functioning as one could be with only three ponies, possibly now two to operate it.

“You guys made all this yourself in a month?” Jabari asked, and Flashfire chuckled as he shook his head and set Soulshine down, the unicorn groaning out in pain.

“Hardly,” Flashfire replied, as he set about bandaging Soulshine’s wounds. “We were lucky enough to stumble upon this. As near as I can figure, this is was constructed during the war with the Zebras. That’s where I managed to find this little toy here,” he continued, holding up his rifle. “Comes quite in handy, as you’d imagine. Damn stripers sure knew how to make a good gun, give ‘em that much!” he laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll bet…” Jabari muttered, and Flashfire had the decency to look embarrassed as he took in Jabari’s appearance. A gunshot went off somewhere above, a sound Jabari and Flashfire both knew to be a sniper rifle. End of the Line, the zorse figured. Had to be.

“Sorry kid, didn’t mean nothing by it,” Flashfire apologized.

“I’ve heard worse, trust me. Freak of nature who never should have been born, for one,” Jabari laughed bitterly, and Flashfire patted him on the shoulder.

“Well, trust me, as long as you can contribute to this hellhole, and you’re willing to die like a soldier then you won’t be getting any of that merde from me! Dunno why, but guess I’ll be giving some sympathy for the devil,” Flashfire explained. Somehow, Jabari didn’t feel all that reassured, even as he watched Flashfire induce unconsciousness to Soulshine via a syringe.

“Sorry about that, Commandant, but you need your rest. We’ll hold the line… somehow,” Flashfire sighed sadly, with the resignation of a pony being led to the gallows.

“Times like these,” Nimbus said, as he entered the room. “What I wouldn’t give for Henri to be here. Guess I’ll have to make do and mend without her…” he trailed off, before grabbing a Zebra Rifle off a gun rack, and putting a cartridge of ammunition in it. Flashfire’s face became one of recognition.

“Wait, Henri, as in Henrietta Firebright?” he asked in shock, sea-green eyes widened. “Then that means you’re…”

“The Morningstar DJ-Pon-3 mentioned?” Nimbus asked, as he grabbed ammo for his pistol as well. “Yep, the one and only. Want a picture? It’ll last longer than some autograph,” he snarked.

Flashfire was once again, left speechless for a moment. “...Wow, a zorse and a former Enclave soldier coming to help the day and pull our asses out of the fire. Wow, times are a-changin’...”

“Trust me, mate, you haven’t even met the strangest members of our party. I’m just the guy with the gun, and apparently Celestia on my side if the song’s to be believed,” he joked before his tone became more serious. “Now you, you keep an eye on Starglow, little pink filly my giant unicorn friend gave you. If she gets killed, those murderbots, least of your worries believe you me,” he said firmly, his own eyes meeting Flashfire’s. The medic shuddered and nodded in understanding. Jabari followed Nimbus back up into the battlefield, and picked up a rifle from a fallen soldier, and joined in the fray.

“Okay, anyone got any ideas on how we breach that factory?” Twilight asked, and Stripped Gear looked at her as if she’d finally taken leave of her senses.

“This is no man's land, Twilight! It means no man can cross it, alright? This battalion, or us should we say, has been here for nearly a month and we’ve barely gained an inch. All right?” Stripped shouted over the din of the gunfire. “Because on the other side there are a bunch of crazy Murder-Bots pointing machine guns at every square inch of this place. This is not something you can cross. It's not possible.” he said, in a tone of complete and utter defeat, and Twilight gave him a deathly cold look that made even Nimbus flinch.

“I’ll ask you not to call robotic versions of my marefriend ‘Murder-Bots’, are we clear on that?” she asked, seemingly gazing into Stripped Gear’s soul.

“M-Marefriend?” Stripped Gear stuttered out. “Who the Hell are you?”

“The mare who’s going to save your lives today,” Twilight stated firmly, as she threw off her tarp and expanded her wings, allowing her Cutie Mark to be in full view as it gleamed in the sun. “May not be able to save everyone, but I’ll at least be able to save you lot, for better or for worse.”

With that, she took off like a rocket, a purple shield in front of her sending every bullet sent towards her flying every which way, before finally a loud boom was heard and a wave of indigo-colored light was sent in every direction, sending Pinkie-Bots flying off to Celestia only knew where.

Sure, some still remained, but Twilight took their fire as her shield held firm and fired off spells of her own.

Hope soon came back to the hearts of Stripped Gear and what little remained of his troop.

“She’s taking all the fire, let’s go!” he barked to his men. “Over the top, go, go!”

And so they scrambled, Riptalon taking out two knives and sticking them in the vital systems of whatever Pinkie Bot crossed his path, or simply blasting them to pieces with Lawgiver. Stripped, he fired off his rifle and bolts flew. Nimbus, shot robots to pieces with his ‘borrowed’ rifle, and watched as whatever remained caught aflame. Jabari and Gabby meanwhile just took the most practical approach and slashed bots to bits with his sword, and her knives. All the while, Target, up high, fired shot after shot from End of the Line to the few remaining turret users.

Finally, Twilight reached the factory door, and blew it open, with a Pinkie bot crawling towards her sparking as it did so, the entire back half completely missing. Twilight gave it a mournful look, before she brought her hoof down atop its head. She hung her head, and let a tear slip out from her eyes before she wiped it away. No, these were not Pinkie, not matter how much they looked it. Just crude robotic copies.

“So,” Twilight asked to Stripped Gear. “You were doubting me?”

Author's Notes:

Okay, so this whole chapter along with probably the next? It's a huge tribute to a friend of mine. Megaskullmon, or as I better know him, Malla. Hell, he even helped write Sugar and Flamethrower once more.

Now, reason I had Henri leave the party like that, well at around this time she has to make an appearance in this tale's parent story, Ruinqueen's story Survivor's Guilt. She'll be back soon enough though. Also, Stripped Gear? His name's totally a reference to the Hive series by law abiding pony. Seriously, give that series a read. Good for all us Changeling lovers, and Twilight Sparkle fans. Also, thank you to KrazyEzzy for the creation of Soulshine and letting me adopt him. Give her some love, eh?