Mount Pleasant Island. So that was their destination when they met up with Henri and whoever she’d met up with. Honestly, Midnight thought Regina’s plan to draft Riptalon back into the NCR was a stupid one. The earth pony stallion really was beginning to question the griffon’s leadership decisions as of late if anyone was to ask his opinions on the matter. Tartarus, he’d personally seen Riptalon kill members of the NCR.

Some years ago…

It had only been a couple of years since the Day of Sunshine and Rainbows, back when Gawd was still president of the NCR. Midnight was just at a bar in Junction Town, drinking whiskey from a bottle. Personally, he’d have preferred a bit of music to add to the atmosphere, but as his drinking buddy (A white coated mare with a black and red mane) said, it was a real mood killer. Plus, the jukebox had long broken down anyways so it sorta defeated the point.

“...There have been more and more sightings of Raiders over by the no-longer Evergreen Miles. If you’re asking me, the smart money's on them having some kind of campsite that way, just sayin’. Keep that in mind the next time you or any other wanderers you’re with feel like nosing around that neighborhood okay?” DJ Pon3’s voice said from a nearby patron’s Pipbuck. Midnight paid it no mind, it wasn’t like Raiders were any sort of interesting news nowadays. Frankly, they were probably on their last legs given that the NCR had a good sizeable control of what used to be nothing but lawless territories.

Midnight likened it to the Old West actually. Before the NCR came and took over, just like with Celestia’s government did to what used to be the Appleloosan plains, the place abounded with lawlessness and ponies basically having to fend for themselves. That wasn’t the case any more. The new outlaws, the Raiders were on the out and the NCR was finally getting the Wasteland under control.

He was just about to ask the bartender, a nice young unicorn mare with a dark blue mane, and lighter blue fur, (Midnight had often considered asking her out on a date from time to time, but his lack of courage always got the best of him.) for another round when she heard it. The sounds of commotion, and gunfire from outside the tavern.

Grabbing his weapon, Midnight rushed outside to see what was going on. And she found herself in the middle of a particularly intense firefight. And in the middle of it was Riptalon himself, dodging and weaving through the shots laid down by the NCR troopers and slicing them in the throats and letting their lifeless husks drop dead in the street.

Interestingly, Midnight had noted, he never once picked up a gun from one of the carcasses despite having every chance to do so. It’d long been a subject of speculation why nobody had ever seen Riptalon just pick up a gun and use it to shoot somebody dead. Maybe he hated them on some sort of matter of principle, or maybe it was just because he preferred things up close and personal. Nobody had ever quite managed to figure it out.

Right now, as Midnight watched in shock at the blood frenzy in the streets, -forgetting for the moment at least, that he had a gun herself- he would lay odds that Riptalon never needed to pick up a gun as he never found himself needing one for any sort of situation.

Finally regaining his senses as he saw Riptalon slash the throat of another pony, Midnight reached for his carbine and fired a full casing of rounds at the griffon. But the target that Midnight hit… wasn’t Riptalon. Or even a griffon for that matter. It seemed Riptalon had grabbed one of the NCR troopers -His own comrade!- and thrown him in front of the shots to use as a meat shield.

Then he heard the thundering of metallic hoofsteps and sighed in relief as Riptalon’s eyes widened in fear. Midnight allowed herself a smirk as the red and silver Power Armor clad forms of Applejack’s Rangers rounded a bend, their battle saddles spinning up before finally letting out a spray of bullets, golden shell casings flying every which way. Riptalon snarled before he threw down a smoke bomb and Midnight coughed as her vision clouded.

“Activate your infrared vision and motion trackers now.” the lead member of the Rangers ordered before they searched the cloud for any sign of Riptalon. The gunfire had stopped, as in the smoke it would be impossible to make out friend from foe, or Riptalon from any of the civilians who had taken shelter in the nearby buildings or behind supply crates or barrels. But the odd thing was, he’d completely vanished from their sight. Then, Midnight saw him. He’d climbed above the cloud of smoke in the confusion and onto the rooftops. Riptalon used one of his charcoal black wings to make a very rude gesture before he took to the skies, and that was the last anybody ever saw of him in Junction Town.

At one point, Midnight could have sworn he heard him mutter “Gawd was gonna cut you down anyways, just sped up the process…” but he’d brushed it off as his imagination getting the better of him.

Groaning at the memory, Midnight shook his head. Best not to dwell on personal grudges, not when he’d be working with the object of that grudge himself. Fluffing up against a makeshift pillow that was in actuality a bag full of oats as she listened to the train’s wheels rattle against the rails below him and his shotgun by his side, he sighed as he put in his earbuds and tuned into DJ-Pon3’s latest broadcast.

“Hey everypony out there, it’s DJ Pon3 coming at you with the latest news. The Enclave has been reported around Equestria with their promises of helping the Wasteland. But don't be fooled my little ponies, the Enclave has no interest in the greater good other than their own. I've got assurances from the New Canterlot Republic that they will be doing their best to help Equestria. The Enclave doesn't change ponies, they'll kill you or enslave you. It’s your choice.”

Personally, Midnight couldn’t believe the Enclave had the nerve to return, and yet here they were broadcasting whenever they felt like it. To the dark coated pony/NCR trooper, for a moment, just a moment, he did believe the Enclave did know what was best for the Wasteland. After all, that voice of Winter Breeze did sound very convincing and reassuring.

But Midnight then forcibly reminded himself that it was the President of the Enclave speaking. These were the same ponies who, with no remorse bombed Canterlot just to, in their own words “Save the Wasteland” and then, if the Book of Littlepip was accurate -And Midnight had no reason to believe otherwise- they’d destroyed Friendship City. And for what reason? It was only to eliminate just one elderly Dashite.

The Enclave had no morals, and that was the end of it.

Midnight turned to her companion, a green-furred Earth Pony like himself who was currently in the middle of fiddling with her sniper rifle.

“Hey, you sure this train’s trustworthy? I mean, we pretty much asked for a ride and didn’t even bother asking what it was carrying, to begin with,” Midnight commented. “No offense, but I’d really like a bit of transparency here,”

“The conductor seemed trustworthy enough, and we needed to get to our meet-up point with Henri near Old Stalliongrad quickly as we can, and trains are the fastest way to get around Equestria these days. Tartarus,” the mare said, adjusting her brown Stetson atop her head out of force of habit. “Pretty sure they always have been now that I think of it,”

Midnight had studied the mare’s file. Target Quartermane, one of the best snipers the NCR had to offer. If the files were to be believed, Target was second only to Calamity Deadshot and the like in terms of scoring a shot through the head and getting away unseen. Her specialty was long-range shots, in the dead of night. In those types of situations, the only thing that could give away a sniper was the muzzle flash of the gun going off or the bullet whizzing and cutting through the air, and by then it was probably already too late for you.

“Yeah, I get that,” Midnight replied. “But I just don’t want to be stabbed in the back by somebody who’s playing both sides…”

A few chuckles came from the left of him, some stallions who obviously thought with their other heads, not the ones attached to their necks. Sure, they were some of the NCR’s best… Or at least what they could spare right now because of the ongoing war with the Enclave. Like the old song went, there was fighting and the company needed men, but Midnight did have to wonder, -and not for the first time today- why he’d have to get stuck with these morons?

“I didn’t mean it like that, you numbskulls!” Midnight shouted.

“Sure…” One of them laughed. “That conductor… Pretty hot for a mare, I must say. Wonder how many eyes she’s caught in her line of work? Working on a train doesn’t pay well, so you gotta wonder if she gets money on the side somehow…”

“I’m more worried about what’s in the back of the train, been hearing strange noises ever since we left the station,” one of the soldiers muttered in worry.

“Aw, probably just livestock or something. You worry too much. Now, back to the question of the conductor…”

Target gave them a dirty glare.

“You know, considering there’s a mare in this compartment here with you… And one who knows how to shoot someone at that, I’d suggest you chose your next words very carefully. Just a thought,” Target warned, with an edge of menace in her tone.

“Relax Target, we didn’t mean anything by it!” the same stallion answered, holding up his hooves in a defensive posture. “Besides, you gotta admit, Lesbians are awfully common in the Wastes, you know…”

“I’ll give you that, I admit,” Midnight agreed, and Target glared at him this time. Midnight quickly backtracked. “Well, it’s not like in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, you’re exactly afforded the luxury of being picky with love interests!”

“You’ve been playing too many role-playing games back at Junction Town…” Target muttered.

“It’s LARPing, for your information!” Midnight snapped. Target ignored him, of course.

“Besides, stay out of this! Weren’t you listening to DJ-Pon-3?” the cowgirl/sniper snapped.

“Eh, my mind wanders… So sue me,” Midnight remarked as the train trundled on across the wastes. Eventually, after hours of travel as sundown neared, Target sighed to herself as she looked at Midnight's worried expression and those of the troopers under her command.

“Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll go up to the front of the train and ask the conductor and engineer themselves about where we’re going, just see how trustworthy they are,”

“You mean the conductor and her lover!” one of the stallions cat-called and soundly earned himself a smack to the back of the head by Target.

“Next time, I’ll leave you with more than just a bruise, got it?” She growled out, grabbing the stallion by his neck and looking him dead in the eyes having had enough of her troops’ pervertedness. With that, she stormed out towards the direction of the front of the train. A steam whistle blew, and Midnight allowed himself to peek his head out of a window to see the column of smoke from the funnel rising high into the afternoon sky as the train trundled around a bend.

Target made her way to the front of the train, where she found the conductor feeding coal into the fire.

“Wasn’t expecting one of the baggage to make their way to the front,” the conductor, going by the rather ironic name of Sweet Pea laughed. She spoke with a deep southern-fried accent, the kind you’d find in a place like Neigh Orleans or somewhere like that. Target’s eye twitched, baggage? Was that what she thought of them as? “But all the same props to ya anyways. Takes a real mare to be up front with all the fire and the steam,”

“Yeah, got some concerns from the “Baggage” as you put it that you’re playing both sides, working for the Enclave or some other faction and are just delivering us to our death when the line ends,” Target remarked. Nearby, a radio crackled. Just barely audible over all the noise was the voice of a certain Element Bearer.

“Bucks and mares, fillies and gentlecolts, prepare to be astounded, bedazzled, and otherwise stupefied! I am Homage, your master of ceremonies! Okay, not really, but a mare can dream can’t she? I suppose I’ll just have to settle for being the Element of Honesty for right now… Anyways… Just a friendly reminder to all you wanna-be bigots out there, ghouls are Equestrians like you and me too, you know. You see, those poor ghouls are simply ponies, griffons, zebras or what have you that've been exposed to an ungodly amount of radiation and haven't had the good fortune to die, Celestia bless their souls. Sure, they may look like hideous zombies from an old monster flick, but their hearts, their souls, their tears, are all very much… Equestrian. So please, if you meet one of the Equestrian Wasteland's many Ghouls, leave your prejudice at the door and your pistol in its holster. However, I do have one important caveat though. Ah, yes... I didn’t say ALL ghouls were friendly like Ditzy Doo or the late Steelhooves however. Those feral ghouls that prefer the dark, dank underground? They ARE basically mindless zombies. So kill as many as you damn well please. It’d do all of us a favor if we had less of the Trotting Dead brain-eaters around. Just learn the difference between those who do and do not want to eat you. This is Homage, signing off with a public service announcement. And now, back to the music.”

Sweet Pea burst out laughing again.

“Eh, Ah wouldn’t take much offense at the baggage comment if Ah was ya, it’s something we here on this train call all of our passengers, just for fun. Don’t mean anything by it,” Sweet Pea remarked. The engineer stayed strangely silent even as he tended to everything. Target idly wondered if he was a mute. “And delivering ya’ll to the arms of the Enclave? Puh-Leeze, Ah’d rather sell my own soul to Tirek then even talk with those bastards. Ah mean, screw them! They may talk big about making the Wasteland “Better”, but so far Ah haven’t seen them doing jack-squat!”

“I’ll agree with you there, but you mind telling the passengers that? I’m beginning to think they’d need nothing short of a signed and written confession from you to believe that. ...Well, that and confirm you’re not selling yourself out to every mare and young buck you come across. Don’t know where they got that idea, but…”

“Honey, let their perverted minds wander. Celestia knows they need somethin’ to keep their minds off the war that’s been goin’ on ever since that little pegasus Winter Breeze made her broadcast,” Sweet Pea replied before she smirked. “Besides, who’s to be sayin’ they ain’t wrong or anythin’?

Target balked, unsure if Sweet Pea was joking or not. The engineer still didn’t speak. Yeah, he was definitely mute, Target had decided in her mind. Sweet Pea continued on. “Mmm, now that Scootaloo mare, despite lookin’ like somepony out of the Silver Spade Chronicles is fine. Oh, so fine…” Sweet Pea said, licking her lips.

“...” Silence was Target’s only answer. And yet Sweet Pea still continued to ramble.

“Now, lemme tell ya something. She may be well over 200 years old, but she sure as Tartarus don’t look it!”

“You’ve met her?” Target asked, finally regaining the power of speech.

“Sure as Tartarus have, Sugar. That wanderer came and saved me in Manehatten when I was gettin’ ponies the Tartarus out of there with all that fightin’ going on. Ah was surrounded by the nastiest sort of ponies you could think of. Ready to rip me limb from limb before little ole Scootaloo charged in, guns a-blazin’ like a mad-mare out of the pits themselves. Owe her mah life, and for that Ah’m grateful. Now whatever crap the Enclave may put out about her, Ah don’t believe a word of it, no ma’am. Ah’ve seen the true side of her, and it ain’t no demon-pony nor a traitor. Unfortunately for ya’ll, this is where your journey ends,”

With that, Sweet Pea pulled a gun, -an old western Colt Peacemaker to be exact- on Target, just as the train cars detached from the tender and main engine. “Sorry to say, but that Winter Breeze… Very charismatic mare. If she wants more soldiers for her war machine and is willing pay good caps for it, Ah’ll bend my moral code for that. Yes, Ah know this makes me a hypocrite… But sad to say, times are tough ya know. Gotta get money somehow,”

“And I was just starting to like you…” Target growled.

“Same, but a mare’s gotta do what a mare’s gotta do, ya understand…” Sweet Pea trailed off. It was then before Sweet Pea could fire off another word (Or a round) or say anything that the engineer finally said something.

“Sorry Sweet Pea, but this is the end of the line of all of us, actually,” The engineer spoke, in a deep gravely voice as he turned away from the fire and pulled out a wrench and with one mighty swing, struck her soundly across the head felling her in one swift blow. Deep crimson red blood oozed out of her wound and formed a small pool on the metal floor. And the facade faded away as the engineer grew taller, his horn grew longer and sharper and wings sprouted out of his back. “Nightmare Moon, she needs a vessel and I think one of those ponies back there in the passenger cars will do just fine,”

Target quietly swore, one of those damned Nightmare Moon cultists she’d been hearing so much about. And he had to be an Alicorn, didn’t he? The Engineer pulled out a small device and pressed a button. An explosion echoed from somewhere behind Target. That explosion happened to be the door of a passenger car blowing wide open and revealing its contents to the world.

Those “Contents” just so happened to be ghouls, foaming and frothing at the mouth. Midnight grabbed his shotgun and blew one’s head clean off just as another leaped onto one of his comrades and began eating away at his flesh. Horrific screams reached Target’s ears as the ghouls quickly set to work.

“Bastard…” Target muttered as she dodged a dark purple magic blast from the Engineer and readied a grenade. She clambered out of the side window and began climbing up to the top of the engine, with her “Friend” right behind her with the grenade still gripped tightly in Target’s hoof. The wind got the better of her and blew her hat to Celestia-knows-where as the Engineer joined her atop the engine.

“Luna damnit! That was my favorite hat…” Target growled out as she turned to face her foe.

“Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide…” he laughed while licking his lips and sizing her up. “Now, just accept your fate. A mare like you, Nightmare Moon would just love to have you as a vessel I’ll bet!”

“Yeah, I’m flattered…” Target deadpanned before she let her hooves do the talking and rn towards the tender car…

“Well, isn’t this just groovy…” Midnight muttered to himself as she continued firing round after round from her Whinnychester built shotgun. “Assessment of things… Well, as the old saying goes, it’s a SNAFU.” he thought to herself as she fired off another blast.

Quickly, the ammo ran out and rather than stopping to reload, Midnight decided “Aw, to Tartarus with it” and decided to just buck a ghoul out the window. It tried to clamber it’s way back into the car but by this time Midnight had reloaded and blew it right to Kingdom Come, brain matter splattering everywhere.

“Note to self, never listen to those old Trotting Dead recordings again,” the Earth Pony thought to himself. “They’re all completely wrong anyways…”

He heard a scream come from behind him, and growled as she pumped another round of lead into one of the ghouls…

“Come on Target, where are you?” Midnight thought to himself as she went for a reload. Now the thing about Midnight’s shotgun, it was special. She’d performed a few modifications on it that allowed it to carry more bucks than the norm. Two extra chambers in each barrel, meaning six shots before it came time to reload again. Personally, it might have been a tad bit overkill to Midnight, but he certainly wasn’t complaining now.

“Well, its late night with your good friend DJ Pon3, so let’s get one last bit of news in before all my little ponies out there get to bed. As you know here at NCR Radio we've got a policy of telling the truth no matter how hard it hurts, and it’s time that the truth fully comes to light. Last year, I became fully aware of the continued survival of one Scootaloo Dash, but I believed that this truth was better left untold until the time was right. So my little ponies, tomorrow I will be broadcasting the full interview between my assistant the lovely Xiraia and Ms. Dash, let's hope you're all listening, because she has a lot to say. Now here's some Sweetie Belle to bring you all to sleep.”

Chuckling at the irony of Sweetie Belle’s soft singing as he continued blasting ghoul after ghoul and continuing the cycle of reload, then shoot, Midnight stood his ground, for however long that ground could be held. If he was going to die, then it wouldn’t be without a fight. Tossing her now-emptied shotgun aside for the moment, Midnight grabbed a wrench and swung it hard, smashing a ghoul’s skull in. Groaning in disgust at the gore, Midnight snarled as he hit a ghoul in the side of his head, sending him flying out the carriage window…

Back with Target, she’d now reached the tender car, the coals beneath her feet. She took a quick look behind her, and saw the carriages in the distance and heard the distinctive sound of shotgun blasts coming in through her earpiece. Looks like Midnight had his hooves full, but Target quickly reminded herself she was in a similar situation as she saw the Engineer approaching, wings spread wide and fangs bared.

“Now now,” the monstrous midnight blue Alicorn commented in a faux-charming tone of voice. “There’s no need to run like a scared little filly. I promise it’ll all be over in just a few seconds, for both you and your friend…”

However, Target was still holding onto the grenade. From the moment the Engineer had revealed himself as an Alicorn and a member of the Nightmare Cult, an inkling of a plan had begun to hatch in her mind. She just needed the proper spot to carry it out and not risk herself being killed in the process.

“Yeah, it’ll all be over in a few seconds…” Target murmured, and she let the Engineer smirk for a second as she seemingly accepted defeat, before Target gave a smirk of her own and ran towards the Alicorn. She whirled around in mid-air after taking a flying leap and bucked him in the stomach. His jaw opened wide, and Target shoved the grenade down it with a laugh of “Well, I think you’ll be meeting your goddess a lot sooner than you expected!” before she leaped off the tender car as the grenade went off.

With a nearly deafening explosion that could be seen for miles no thanks in part to the huge fireball created by the steam engine’s fuel igniting and sending the entire thing sky high, Target was flung back into a patch of shrubbery. She smirked as she saw charred feathers floating down near her.

“Good riddance…” the sniper mare muttered before she picked herself up off the ground, groaning in pain and injecting a stimpak into herself and started to gallop back towards the carriages.

Target let out a sigh of relief when she saw Midnight climbing out of the front carriage, his lion-like mane and dark fur stained and soaked in blood. His shotgun rested on his back, and a wrench had been strapped to one of his forelegs.

“Well…” Midnight chuckled as he saw Target. “Looks like there’ll be a slight delay with our rendezvous.”

Target smiled when she saw three figures climbing over a hilltop, a white feathered griffon in the lead.

“Maybe not…”

Author's Notes:

I have only one thing to say for the kill em' all parts of this chapter. Not So New Brony, I blame you for that. Now, in all seriousness, firstly I have to give thanks to RuinQueen for letting me use Xiraia's transmissions and thanks to Enigma C-137 and Midnight Radiance for the use of their characters. Funny story, with Midnight I kept messing up about every time I wrote his character, constantly getting the gender wrong and writing his ponysona as a she. Though in my defense, if you look at Midnight's avatar, you could see where I got mixed messages. (Sorry Midnight.) Also, his shotgun was inspired by this piece from Bioshock 2.

Also, as you can now see, I've made an image change to a screenshot from Fallout 4 for the cover art. Okay, I admit the desert town with zeppelins hanging over it worked for the first few chapters with Iron and Riptalon, but now that they're about to get involved with the war with the GPE proper, I decided it was time for a different piece to reflect the mood. Also, as this will be my last update before November 1st... Happy Halloween all of you, wherever you are.