To say I was startled would be an understatement. I was expecting a voice to ring in my ears any second given how fast time seemed to fly while I checked the ship but it was supposed to be gruff, sarcastic and definitely male. While I used the high console as a form of cover and kept my eyes and gun combing the empty cabin, I considered what had been said by what was unmistakably a female voice. I didn't have long to think though as the voice began to speak again.

"Oh common, Colonel! You're acting like you've never heard a machine speak before. According to my records you were an Anti-Machinist so the record literally states it's impossible that you haven't come across one with a voice synthesizer."

"Hold up, since when did Vertibirds have fucking V.Is in them?" I asked without even thinking, my inner geek overriding my caution. "Who are you?"

"You've proven my point rather easily." It responded with a laugh, it finally dawning on me that it was just another robot. "This model was given a Virtual Intelligence as it was determined that artificial help would greatly increase the efficiency of a craft of this size and complexity. In testing, our combat efficiency tripled allowing a crew of six to work extensively in dangerous environments for weeks at a time. However I should admit these were performed with excellent pilots and technicians in the chair but nonetheless, my presence is a tremendous benefit to this craft."

That made sense at least. With how many areas there were inside this behemoth, this was a legitimate answer to the problem as V.Is came in handy when it came to getting the best response out of a working machine. A prime example would be the personality subroutines that came with the Mr. Helper and Mr. Guts robots that Cogsworth and most with any sort of money had on hoof to assist them with their daily lives. They were fun to talk to and even build a friendship with given how Sentient they behaved. No two were exactly alike when used extensively by different owners as each took on subtle traits of their Operator and learned new tricks or gained quirks from past experiences (or simply from a skilled computer programmer). You could come across cranky sarcastic assholes, jovial jokesters and grim silent types all thanks to what experiences its adaptive VI had all stacked together somewhere in its circuits.

There were also Miss Nanny and Miss Nurse robots in the world featuring female personalities and demeanors, lacking nothing in the way of usefulness to the right ponies. Unfortunately, they hadn't quite reached the same popularity of the male butler and male soldier personalities that had hit the market first. As a result, most models that were bought were by wealthy hospitals in big cities; cities that were major targets come the apocalypse. That all being said though, this was definitely a new voice belonging to neither the Nanny or the Nurse. It was young, like a mare in her mid-20s with a slight accent that I couldn't quite place; certainly not hard on the ears by any means.

"Right...I just...wasn't expecting one to be onboard." I replied, coming out from under my hiding place and holstering my weapon. "It's not like they were on Kampfwagens either so...I definitely wasn't expecting one here."

"Understandable. Your record also states you were given some pilot training and designated as a reserve pilot for the UFM-1 'Raven' transport crafts. It is true the Ravens are not equipped with V.I assistants given the more manual approach capable by physical pilots alone, however I'm sure you have seen how much more complex this model is. With six independent crew stations, seven cabin areas and everything else...well, having me around makes coordinating all that much easier."

"Huh..." I hummed, sitting back in the pilot chair feeling much more at ease now. "So what model are you then? I don't remember anything like this and believe me, I would have remembered something as awesome as a giant fucking Vertibird. General Steel Hide would have gabbed about something like this as if it were his own grandkid...I mean, the Mechanized Airborne was his baby since the moment they landed in Stormgŭll. Probably broke some rules with how much he talked about them but can't deny he was a stallion of passion and was a pleasure serving under."

"Although I do have a recognition for the name General Steel Hide, I had no contact with him personally over the course of my development and field testing. I did however have extensive interactions with Generals Lead Heart and Olive Branch." She admitted in a proud tone. "I spent four years in development and was brought to this facility on October 22nd, 2077. However, I saw no time in the field of battle whatsoever...which seriously pissed me off if I may speak freely Ma'am. And now, I have sat in here in emergency stand-by mode stuck with barely any sensors or power outside of what is needed to keep the ship and I in a state of perpetual readiness. It has been awfully boring as all hell Ma'am."

"And I assume you know of me due to...my records from the Mechanized Airborne?" I guessed, figuring it made sense for my name to be in her pertinent databases.

"Correct. As you are a known pilot with basic qualifications, I know what I need to know about you in the event that you needed to perform an emergency exfil and were not familiar with how to work a more complicated juggling act. With an honest narrative of every capable pilot's skill level, I can better adapt how much direct assistance I give to them to ensure we fly safely and efficiently. As well as provide sufficient support for all other systems regardless of crew count. Potently efficient if I might say so and quite beneficial to boot!"

"Huh...and what model are you exactly? Definitely not the Raven I'm used to and I still haven't gotten the name yet. Uh...AUNTIE."

"My apologies, Colonel." She responded politely, provoking a mental image of a dutiful officer's secretary. "This is the Utility Flying Fortress Advanced Aeronautical Unit Type-A, or the UFF-1 'Rook' for short. I understand it is tradition to christen vessels such as this with custom names given by the crew, however this unit lacks one as I did not see official service in the Zebra-Equestrian War as is required. I did however see a few year's worth of exposure and operational testing in the Pegusi Defense Testing Cumulus in the Duchy of Crystal and the Dominion of Saddle Arabia under the 'Castle Rook' Program. My intended role was to act as a mobile Outpost and heavy attack craft for Operation Foe Hammer, a counter-offensive designed to drive the Empire back out of the capital city of Kyopsis and begin the full liberation of the defunct Kingdom of Shifting Sands. Of course, this was to be in conjunction with the Greifenländer Kampfwagens which had arrived for official service in early May of 2077 of which you seem to have taken a direct part in working with, Colonel."

"You're not wrong, can still remember my time working with the Mauler like it were yesterday. Huh...the things you learn after going AWOL..." I chuckled, having been mostly cut off from the happenings in the South while serving in the Empire. "Considering I distinctly remember being left out of the loop more times than not even with my rank, I'm curious why you're the one person who hasn't done the same with info like this."

"To be frank Colonel, I have spent the last two-hundred and six years half-asleep and unable to do much of anything but process what had to have occurred for me never seeing real battle in my intended role. The only logical conclusion is that a Tier-III Eclipse - Category event occurred and the War was ended too soon for me to have any real value. So, following that path of logic...why should I hold anything as 'Classified' anymore in light of an apocalypse? You had the clearance to board and activate the ship. That is more than good enough for me at this point given the statistical improbability of being discovered by military personnel. Besides...what harm is it going to cause when everyone else I could possibly speak about is already dead? Speaking of which...and I mean no offence by this but merely very curious, why aren't you as well, Ma'am? Dead, that is. Records indicate your date of birth to be the third of July, 2046 so forgive my inability to compute your presence here. Ma'am."

"Heh...you're not the only one who's asked that same question today." I laughed softly, leaning back in my chair as a light started flashing green in my peripherals from the central control panel.

"Ma'am, I have an incoming transmission on an emergency military channel transmitted by one Captain Garand K. Enfield? Credentials and frequency check out in the database as being registered with the Steel Rangers Corps although his records are so full of omissions I can't draw any conclusions. Well, apart from he too should likely be deceased as well but that is now uncertain. Should I patch him through?"

"Um...yeah, please do. He's my...travel companion." I replied, curious how Garand was reacting to the sudden intruder I had yet to inform him about.

"Hi Garand."

"There you are! Who the fuck is AUNTIE?! Auntie who?? And why the fuck is she on this channel? Who are you with? The fuck ya up to, mare?"

"Nice to hear from you too..." I sighed, hearing the communication over loudspeakers built into the corners and headrests. "Listen, AUNTIE is a V.I that came with the Vertibird. She came online when I powered this thing up and I haven't had time to tell you about her yet. Was still trying to get things straight with her."

"That thing has a fuckin V.I installed that can intercept radio frequencies? Damn...you weren't kidding, that ship has a lot of surprises. Is it listening in?"

"Naturally." She replied, her voice coming from the same speakers as well. "This craft was also designed to convert into an emergency field hospital. Thus, emergency frequencies are within my jurisdiction to listen in on in the event we need to prepare the triage bay or if there is a lot of information being exchanged and they need a record or interpretation of said record for logistical purposes."

"Yeah, yeah..." He sighed, the feeling of him rolling his eyes like a scream across the radio. "Look, Auntie whoever you are, we've got some questions for ya. And don't tell me it's 'Classified' because that's bullshit. If you know what date it is, you'll know what happened outside this facility and know it's a moot point to care about that shit anymore."

"Indeed it is, Captain." She replied without skipping a beat. "Colonel? I know it does not matter but old habits die hard. Is the Captain permitted to ask such questions?"

"Uh, yeah. Granted." I replied with a laugh, feeling a gleeful sense of pride in outranking him.

"Oh, so I have your permission to speak? How fuckin' thoughtful of ya..." He groaned, changing tones once he spoke again. "Alright, number one. What do you know about this facility? It's a lot fucking bigger than my largest estimates guessed and there's plenty to be excited about in here. How can ya help us out?"

"I'm afraid I do not know, Captain. I was delivered here only two days before I lost auxiliary connection with my surroundings. Not only that but I was left in standby mode with minimal sensor input available during the entire transit from Saddle Arabia to this location. I am able to detect the facility once again now that the Colonel has restored main power to my systems, however I am unable to establish a remote connection with the mainframe as there is insufficient power to the complex's transmitters for me to use them. It seems emergency power is not being routed properly to multiple subsystems I would otherwise have easy access to."

"So...restore power and you'll crack this shitbox wide open for us?"

"Correct, Sir. I have security clearances unique to me that grant me General-level credentials and Alpha-3 clearance in Ministry of War facilities. It was deemed prudent given that live testing of my capabilities proved I am capable of handling the ship on my own and accessing or providing information as needed to the CO on board the craft. It likewise grants me priority landing clearance at any runway and remote access to external door controls of almost any enclosed landing bay. This is a trillion-bit government funded investment after all and it would be a waste to treat me less than I am worthy of."

"Oh really? Well...that changes things." I hummed, thinking about the goldmine we sat inside. "How did they get you in here? Don't think they would have taken you down into parts small enough for the cargo elevator we took to get down here. Or did they?"

"They did not via that route, Colonel. I was transported here inside multiple shipments on Sky Freighters from Saddle Arabia. Last definite ping off navigation beacons was approximately 100 miles due Northeast of this facility or 200 miles South/Southwest of Dodge Junction."

"That'd put you..." I began, pulling up my map until Garand beat me to the punch.

"Right in the crook of the Embers on that side of the range, close to where they turn into the Ponyrenees to the East of us here. Heard this place was built into what used to be old Gem mines and ancient cave systems left over from the Dragons so...guess they must have an entrance all the way out there. That is...both a benefit and a problem."

"Do elaborate, Captain?" She asked politely. "I'm afraid the realities of the world outside are unfamiliar to me since last I was awake, Equestria was two centuries younger and still at War with the Empire. That there's even a world still left out there is statistically surprising as well. A possibility but one with multiple margins for error in my calculations given organic life's impeccable resilience. Or perhaps it should rather be called 'defiance'?"

"Oh there's definitely plenty of life and defiance out there in this wonderland of a new world." I laughed.

"And most of it ain't friendly anymore." Garand finished before distractedly saying, "Huh? No, I'm talking to her... Yeah. Hell if I know, just make a fuckin' note of it or some shit... Do I look like I carry a pencil and paper in my bags? What the fuck I look like to you, a personal secretary?"

There was another pause of silence as he hadn't turned on external audio inputs before he half-yelled, "If you fuckin' need it so bad then go up to the fucking offices we saw earlier! Plenty of shit to keep you busy with... The fuck you mean 'inventory'? …You wanna catalog every fucking little thing? Right now? Sure, whatever...just... Two floors up ya ding dong!"

The next bout of silence was broken quickly by a long and tired sigh from the big ol' bird before he said, "Ok. Bullshit aside...what I was saying was that if they transported you unassembled via some long ass tunnel from the Eastern side of the Embers, that means there's likely still a tunnel there today. That means we have an easy means past the Gap and right into the Dodge Junction area. However, that also means the Order would have an easy past the Gap as well if they ever happen to find it which...isn't a happy fuckin' thought to have floating around out there. How many knew about this tunnel system?"

"I'm afraid again Sir that I do not know. However, given that this...Order has not found it yet in over two centuries, I would say that is something in our favor until we learn more. What is this 'Order' you speak of, Sir? If I may so inquire."

"The mutated, rotting remains of the Steel Ranger Corps..." Garand sighed again, the anger and resentment clear in his voice. "They started out as M and T Companies, 3rd Battalion, 11th Armored Calvary Regiment, 105th Division; casually called 'Mad' and 'Terror Company' respectively. They were the Steel Ranger contingent under Brigadier General Stone Mason acting as the inner and outer-city defense for Salt Lick City and the surrounding suburbs. Place was the main production facility and headquarters for West-Tec, the subsidiarity of Stable-Tec in partnership with the Ministry of War to solely produce certain products. In this case...this particular city was a major supplier of Power Armor to the War effort. Big target with lots of military infrastructure dug into it over the years so they just gave the area an entire fucking Brigade's worth of soldiers to delegate and distribute around as they saw fit. Minus those in Power Armor of course. They of course were best used as guards for the installations and riot control for the city when the food shortages hit again."

"Do continue, Sir." AUNTIE said inquisitively, a sentiment I related with as I was curious as she was to learn of the origins of the modern day Steel Rangers.

"Yeah, we've got time for a little history." I chimed in with a smirk, brooding on what could have happened.

"Yeesh...as if one nosy mare wasn't bad enough...I was gonna tell ya anyway, jeez. Well...the reason I'm willing to believe Athena's story is because General Mason was attacked by a large contingent of Crimson Dragons and cloaked infantry on the 20th of October, three days before the Great War. They had brought with them a Balefire Bomb set to detonate the facility and especially the power plant in order to blast as wide a crater in Central Equestria as they could. General Mason and his boys kicked their asses though and managed to capture five of their Shaman who were there to prepare the bomb with whatever ritual they do to make the bomb active. With some help from a couple Ministry of Morale Unicorns, they got it ready to return to sender using their new prisoners."

"Wouldn't the Great War have started sooner then?" I asked, wondering what I was missing. "Doubt something like sending a goddamn Balefire Bomb preemptively would have gone over too well with those striped bastards."

"Well yeah, if they had sent it back with same fucking day delivery but it took a couple days to break into their minds and force them to work against their masters. They barely had the Spectral Array ready to teleport the Bomb when the whole country was lit up with sirens so they decided to use the weapon to detonate the Bombs plummeting from portals in the atmosphere towards the city itself. Long story short after the Great War, they dug into Salt Lick City and slowly made contact with all other surviving members of the Equestrian Armed Forces across the country that still had working radios. After that...they decided to reform what and who survived the EAF into the Order of the Steel Rangers with a bunch of titles, rules and shit that callback to medieval times. Fast forward a couple hundred years and there's Seven-Chapters of the original Order in every major city of the East with over a dozen smaller splinter factions scattered all around in between who have varyingly large territories they clawed out for themselves. Of course, I shouldn't forget to mention all these groups and splinter groups have varying ideologies that lead them into conflict with each other but ironically enough, they all have relatively similar goals in the end."

"Those being?"

"Technology. No two fucks about it, basically all fragments of the SR are obsessed with technology in one way or another and most tend to covet it violently." He replied dryly, the contempt for them dripping from his voice. "Some more than others but their reputation is to the point where 99% of people automatically assume anyone in Power Armor is one of them and out for blood. Doesn't matter which side of Canterlot you're on, if you're not affiliated with one of them you might as well be their enemy. They're not wrong to think that but it's kind of an oversimplification of how shit be with the Order and the rest of 'em. Some are actually not so bad, at least compared to the rest, but their numbers are so small or their group so secretive you'd never know they existed anyway."

"I see...so, ponies in Power Armor are overall the bad guys now? That is quite interesting..." She hummed softly. "So...I would assume then that any of these aforementioned factions would be incredibly interested in this facility and me in particular then? Seems to be the most logical summation of what you have told me."

"Heh, you catch on pretty quick." I laughed, wondering if there was a chance we could get her help. "They're the reason we're here to be honest. There's a Platoon-sized force of Steel Rangers en-route to this location as we speak with...what kinda Kampfwagens were they?"

"Falke IIs." He replied with a slight growl of frustration. "Three of 'em. Barrel thickness and body characteristics indicate they're the earlier models with the 50mm cannon and additional frontal spaced armor. Couldn't quite tell if they had the side skirts for the tracks and turret that came standard on later iterations though. That kinda armor is just too thick for anything me or Firefly have that isn't a shaped-charge mine and Athena's AMR-25 is only going to do so much damage. You do have APs right? You didn't come after me with just dumb old HEs in that thing like a total dumbass, yes?"

"Oh fuck you very much...yeah, I totally didn't read your dossier thoroughly and didn't notice the bold print that says, 'Hey, this asshat wears Power Armor'... I mean, I brought armor piercers but only like 15-rounds worth of anything remotely useful against a fucking tank." I laughed nervously, thinking about the rifle nestled safely in the bunkroom loaded with APFSDS-Ts. "I've got ten HEAA rounds and five discarding sabots. Wait, four because I missed that first shot... What a waste of a good tungsten dart."

"Eh, 25mm of a shaped copper charge might be enough to punch through Power Armor but I doubt it'll do much good against a Falke II." Garand grunted, both of us brushing off for now the fact that dart had been meant for him. "That leaves us with four goddamn shots worth a damn against three tanks...fuckin' great."

"Not sure if I am permitted to interject here but I've got enough firepower to spare for all of us..." AUNTIE said quietly in the pause that followed his griping. "The Dual-Purpose rounds currently selected for the chin cannon alone are more than enough to punch through their lightly armored topsides. Considering I have a distinct height advantage...well, you couldn't ask for a better battlefield companion, Sir."

"Is that you offering to help...?" I asked, cautiously optimistic.

"Yes Ma'am, that it is." She responded brightly, the noise of the engines getting noticeably louder. "Give me a chance to line them up and I can wipe the floor with their insides!"

"Damn, I like the shit coming outta this girl's mouth!" Garand chuckled with glee. "Hungry for some action?"

"With all due respect Sir, I was built for a War I never got the opportunity to have a part in. I'm dying for the chance to make my existence mean something again. You are both recognized officers in my records and I've already confirmed Colonel Crete's identity via the biometric sensors in your PipBuck. As far as I see it, you are the only ones alive with the true authority to command me and the resources of this facility. Bring me targets and I'll bring you results. Just as it should have been had things turned out differently."

"Terrific! How soon can you depart?" He asked before calling out, "Hey! Glowstick! Forget the inventory and get your ass back to the elevator, we've got more Tin Heads to kill! Real ones this time!"

"Tin Heads? Ah...a euphemism and insult to these wayward Steel Rangers I take it?"

"Yes, but it actually is a phrase as old as you are. It's what members of my Corps called members of his back in the day." I interjected since it was hard for me to resist a chance to enlighten someone.

"Yeah, and we called you guys fuckin' NadPads back then too." Garand laughed sounding surprised he remembered something like that. "Gods the memories...anyways, mind answering the question? When can we be prepped and ready for take off?"

"My apologies, Sir. I still have to perform a full system's check but I estimate easily within the hour. I am aware we are under certain time constraints so I must ask for an estimation as to the time of their arrival."

"Well...been outta range of the GIMP satellite for a little over an hour so that's two sweeps we missed out on but lemme pull up the one from just before we went underground and jog my memory a bit."

The line went silent for a few moments so I took the time to look around the cockpit to take in more of the view of my new toy. Now that main power was pumping life through the ship, the rather roomy space was alight with small colored bulbs, glowing buttons and terminals all begging to be explored and (carefully) fucked around with. On the console in front of me I could see dozens of small printed labels in blocky text print pasted above every single important switch and button. Of particular note, there weren't as many minor knobs and controls as I remembered on the Vertibirds I had previously worked with. There was much more a feeling of technological advancement surrounding this craft than with the older models, which still retained a particularly mechanical feel to them. Of course, none of them had come with a V.I, let alone one that seemed as...alive as AUNTIE was coming off as. So much of it all was rather familiar to what I remembered but with enough things new and different to set this apart in an entirely new category of it own. In as far as I could tell, I was the proud and lucky owner of the single most advanced piece of tech on the planet. Barring any other potentially interesting black site finds we may yet encounter of course.

"Uhhh, let's see." His voice finally replied over the speakers. "Based off what I can see here, and making an educated guess given the speed they were going, I'd say we've got maybe thirty minutes, forty at best. My data is outdated but I'm feelin' pretty confident in my numbers here. They hauled some serious ass to get down here, sweet fuck..."

"Indeed so..." AUNTIE replied, her tone trailing off as she seemed to slip into what could be called 'thought'. "Very well, I can omit certain system's checks and focus solely on those needed for this engagement. If any of you will be needing the restroom, best to use one in this complex as that and the kitchen will be sealed off until I have time to ensure all is functional upon our return. Two-hundred years sitting idle is not exactly ideal for any piece of technology no matter how advanced it may be. Anything could have gone amiss during that period."

"ETC?" He asked getting straight to the point.

"Ten minutes, twenty-seven seconds if done at peak efficiency." She replied immediately. "I will need your help Colonel, if you would be so kind as to lend your assistance with this procedure."

"Oh...?" I asked sheepishly. "I mean...I remember some of my pilot training but really they're more just...hazy memories of the experience rather than the actual training itself, heh..."

"Oh, that is not a matter for concern in this scenario." She said reassuringly. "I can fly and operate this craft by myself under the proper circumstances but I will need assistance when it comes to certain pre-flight checks. Visual confirmation of the ship itself is one thing I cannot do unfortunately and there are many parts of this craft that will need a visual inspection to ensure two centuries of idleness have not fouled anything up. There are some tasks that are just best left to Organics and this is unfortunately one of them, Ma'am."

"Heh, Organics eh? Alright, I can work with that terminology. What do you need me to do?"

"Hey, let her know but at least lemme leave the chat first." Garand grunted. "We're a few floors and shit below you so it'll be fifteen or so until we're back up there anyway. Garand, out."

There was a few seconds pause before she hummed, "Charming fellow. Have you known him long, Colonel?"

"Uhhh...yes and no...?" I laughed sheepishly as she reminded me of how complicated our relationship was. "See...we met a couple of times back during the War, down on the Southern Front while we were both stationed there. He was more of a dick back then, now that I remember better...not to mention louder and more talkative. Anywho...suffice it to say for now, don't know him very well and we only uh...bumped into each other earlier today in the canyons."

"Your hesitation indicates there is more going on here but in the essence of time, that will do for now." She replied simply. "Very well, I have uploaded a copy of the pre-flight checklist to your PipBuck. Please access it via your HUD and stand in the center of the cockpit so we may begin in earnest. Even with the elimination of non-essential and non-combat related system's checks, there is much to be done and this is no small craft."

There was a soft chirp from my PipBuck as she spoke and a second later I was looking over the eight-page document she had sent me. I had barely a second with it before dozens of question marks popped up in my mind as term after technical term rolled before my eyes like incomprehensible gibberish. I was gonna need a lot of patience and hoof-holding to get back into the swing of things.

"Yo, mare! We're back."

Yet again in so many minutes I was getting the shit scared out of me by a sudden voice out of nowhere while I was deeply engrossed in something interesting. My head was already reeling from the lengthy checklist and hazy memories slowly returning to the surface so needless to say I was a tad grouchy this time around.

"Crete? Where ya done scurry off to?" Firefly's voice sounded from down the hallway to the main cabin. "Sweet fuckin' damn ain't this ah sight..."

With a sigh and a grunt I flopped myself onto my hooves from the communications station seat in the cockpit, hooking my way left around the corner and down the passageway now lined with softly glowing LED bulbs. Entering the cabin I immediately spotted Firefly on the far side looking intensely the lit up gun rack I had left open earlier while Garand was busy trying to climb up and into the ship, his Power Armor standing by itself outside.

"Ah, there she is. Was starting to think you fucked off and went back to sleep." He snickered as he hoisted himself inside and immediately had to crouch as the ceiling was a foot short of his full height. "Gods why did I think this was a good fuckin' idea...?"

"Probably due to wishing to see these Steel Rangers off on their way to an explosive demise?" AUNTIE chimed in with a smirk that could be felt over the speakers. "Or am I mistaken, Captain? Vocal and situational analysis has made it hard for me to consider alternative answers in this situation."

He snorted and took a moment to lay down in the middle of the cabin looking like a housecat curled up on a sofa before replying, "Yeah, that. Although I gotta wonder how the fuck I'm gonna be able to enjoy the view from back here."

"Oh do not worry about that." AUNTIE said excitedly as a series of small hatches across the cabin roof opened and small cables dropped down from above the seats. "The Rook was installed with the Advanced Assisted Optics System which allows for any with a PipBuck and compatible device with a HUD to interface with any of the external camera feeds."

"Wait...seriously?" He asked in surprise, taking the nearest cable dangling over a seat to his left and examining the plug. "So how many external feeds do you have exactly then?"

"Thirty-six in total, Sir. The feed from the main sensor array above the nose cannon is by far the most comprehensive but those located along the port and starboard turrets have a wider field of view at 300-degrees of rotation. It is quite simple, merely plug the uplink cable into your PipBuck and don the helmet of your Power Armor as you would normally. The device will link through my central processor and the video feed will begin automatically after that."

"How did you know I had Power Armor...?"

"Captain, did you truly think anything with Stable-Tec infrastructure wouldn't stand out like a sore horn? It's a giant armored PipBuck essentially and broadcasts it's own IFF tag that pings bright as day on my sensors. It's exactly one meter away off the starboard bow, a T-51d chassis equipped with PipBuck OS Version 3.41b although the Structural Integrity Assessment System is not properly registering multiple pieces including the cuirass, left pauldron and several pieces of the extremities. I'm sure you have a better explanation than any hypothesis I could formulate."

"Huh...uh, yeah. Those are pieces I kinda had to patchwork together over the last six months to replace pieces that got fucked up while I was trying to evade the Order. Inner wiring on most pieces was fucked so the SIA System couldn't make a connection with any of 'em but that doesn't mean they weren't still armor. I eh...kinda used to be a part of the Order at on point but then went and killed a bunch of their guys. Their lack of clear ethics and increasingly violent tactics got a bit too far over the line for me. And before you ask, yeah. I didn't have this change of heart soon enough...did shit I'm not proud of and that's why I'm here now trying to make damn fucking sure none of them set a single hoof inside this place. If they got ahold of you first...well, we're about to see what kinda shit you can wreck in a bit anyway so it's only gonna make that 'what if?' question more crazy to consider."

"I see...well, it is a reality as a soldier to follow orders you disagree with so I will not hold it against you. I suppose what matters more is your current actions rather than than previous ones I have little knowledge of."

"Heh, thanks I guess?" He shrugged before nodding to me and saying, "You, go snag my helmet would ya? You're closer and can move around easier than I can in here."

I rolled my eyes and hopped down from the open side door and onto the large, circular landing pad we were situated on. It was my first time actually looking anywhere other than the Vertibird and I was taken aback at how lofty the semi-domed ceiling was above us; easily fifty-plus feet up capped off with a flat, wide blast door presumably leading to the outside. Unlike the hangars where the Ravens were stored for maintenance and rearming, this hangar was almost completely barren of anything distinctly meant for the Vertibird. There were tool carts, arcane welding gear and other utensils sitting around but they could all just as easily be meant for any of the Kampfwagens Garand and Firefly had found down below. How was this thing meant to be rearmed? Or perhaps the better question was where was it supposed to be sent once it had launched all its rockets and emptied its drums of ammunition?

Speaking of Garand... I turned to my side and spotted his armor standing nearby with his Plague Bird emblazoned helmet hanging from a hook he had welded onto his left cuisse. I took a second to look at the decal again and reminisce about a simpler time before I noticed some...interesting modifications he had made to his ancient T-51d helmet. The original oculari, or viewport, was filled-in and cut into a different shape more akin the older T-45 helmets. The older model sported two independent ballistic lenses instead of one long, narrow viewport as featured on the T-51 models. Following in the oddity, the lenses in these oculari were in fact not the black titanium quartz panels used in the T-45 or 51 but were instead a deep bloody red; a color used by an entirely different helmet type altogether. Not only that, but these lenses were noticeably smaller than you would expect a bird his size to need but still larger than a normal pony's eyes. Meaning...he had to have cannibalized parts from some Griffin's M-CAP(R) helmet. It was hard to tell if it were taken from a Mrk. III or Mrk. IV model, but there was no mistaking the level of sophistication nor the size of the lens itself. There was also some new communication's package attached to his helmet as well. However, the long antenna coming out the back and the distinctly SR aesthetics made it clear it came from one of the later Semi-Powered armor lines. Overall, he had made some rather extensive and decently implemented field modifications to his gear and I couldn't hold back a nod of approval at his cleverness. Not to mention proper reuse of available tools and resources.

"Huh...explains a few things..." I muttered to myself before I heard him yelling for me to hurry the fuck up already.

"Jeez, mare...the fuck you doing out there?" He scowled as I hopped back into the main cabin. "We've got limited time to get this shit done and you're wasting time with your hoof up your ass. If ya wanted to get yourself off, you shoulda thought about that before you turned this thing on and got the whole ball rolling."

"Yeah, yeah..." I sighed as I hurled his helmet at him in retaliation, the thud as it pelted his shoulder almost as loud as the squawk of pain that came out of his big beak. "Sit and spin, dipshit. Least you can even climb aboard. Was having my doubts you could even fit in here."

He blushed a dark angry red and glared at me furiously, rubbing his bruised shoulder in his talons. "Hey, fuck you! I am not that fuckin' fat. Besides! Not like I can move around and catch shit while I'm laying down like this, you psycho bitch..."

I rolled my eyes and left him to bend awkwardly around himself in order to grab his helmet while I nodded to Firefly and then towards the hatch leading to the front of the ship. Within a second he had dropped the rucksack of supplies he had been nosing through and was by my side looking as giddy as a colt on Hearth's Warming Eve.

"Ah wasn't involved in y'all's lil' conversation so Ah know nothin' 'bout this here machine." He said grinning ear to ear under his Oatstralian bush hat. "Yew weren't lyin' tho'! This thang is a goddamned marvel!"

"Heh, even a word as strong as that doesn't quite cut it here..." I laughed as the hatch opened on my approach and I led him into the comfortably lit hallway at the center of the beast. "It keeps going heh, heh."

"Holy mutha..." He gasped, his milky blue eyes wide with shock as he looked past me down the length of the hall. "It fuckin' splits at th' center?! Th' fuck is down here?!"

"There are four independent cabins located in this section of the Rook." AUNTIE replied from overhead as we moved into the central hub area between the hallways and cabin doors. "Unfortunately due to the nature of the current situation, two of them are currently sealed pending an appropriate time to inspect everything for full functionality."

"Two of 'em, eh?" Firefly whistled as he looked around at the multitude of options to explore. "Take it them's the ones wit' red lights ringin' th' doors?"

"Correct, uh...pardon me but I cannot say that I am aware of your name, Mr...?"

"Firefly's th' name!" He chuckled, tipping his hat at the air in general. "Former NER 1st Recon werkin' fer mahself now as ah Bounty Hunter! Yew sum kind o' computer then Ah take it?"

"In so plain of terms, yes." AUNTIE responded with a soft chuckle of amusement. "Although I will not pretend to know what 'NER 1st Recon' means precisely. However, the terminology involved implies some form of combat or military training. Am I mistaken in this assumption?"

"Nope! NER stands fer th' New Equestrian Republic. Buncha ponies from Stable 8 that managed tah form th' biggest organized faction this here side o' th' Gap o' Canterlot. Took a lotta inspiration from th' old world, especially when it comes tah th' structure n' hierarchy y'all used in th' Army. We got Privates, Sergeants, Majors, Colonels...th' whole shebang. Ain't nothin' near as big 'er advanced as y'all were but they do alrigh' enough fer themselves."

"Fascinating!" She replied with genuine interest. "I am aware of Project: Safehouse as it was the single largest government funded construction project in history. Of which, this facility was more than likely a part of given the amount of Stable-Tec infrastructure I am able to detect around me. To hear of a Stable being this successful is intriguing news as I have long pondered over them and was forced to speculate with little information as to what became of Project: Safehouse. The concept of safeguarding an Organic population underground from the effects of arcane radiation and climate disaster for multiple decades truly fascinates me. The logistics involved alone is quite the case study for economics and supply management, not to mention the many needs of the residents physically, psychologically and emotionally for several generations. Truly an impressive and ambitious civil defense initiative!"

"Yeahhhh...abou' tha'..." He chuckled nervously, looking back towards the main cabin for a moment as if deciding if he wanted to leave.

"Let's just say Project: Safehouse was...overall a resounding failure..." I said grimly, thinking of the hundreds of horror stories I had heard over the years and the rare Stable I managed to stumble across. "Aside from Stable 8 and a few others out there like 39...they just ended up being death traps that killed their occupants in one way or another. Stable-Tec seemed to have sold their Souls to the Abyss somewhere along the line; every Stable was just a perfectly isolated group of test subjects for hundreds of so-called 'social experiments'. I don't know much about the full scope of their depravity but...the little I do know gives me a reason to avoid going out of my way to look for Stables. Stable-Tec produced some of the most incredible technology and inventions in history but all those exclusive government contracts went to their heads. Even when dead and abandoned, they are still some of the most dangerous places you could choose to scavenge from let alone try and settle down in. Good potential for making a profit off the rare tech torn outta the poor places but the odds of survival for most who wander in are pretty low for the most part. Either due to what killed the original Stable Dwellers or what moved in afterwards."

"Ah." She said softly, the shock and disappointment evident in her tone. "I see... Very well, shall we continue? We must depart very soon if we are to intercept them in short order."

"Sounds great!" Firefly laughed in relief as I led him to the cockpit, which only dropped his jaw closer to the rubberized floor tiles.

"Holy... Th' Republic ain't got shit on anythin' in this fuckin' room! Stable City would fuckin' kill tah have even one o' these here computer consoles." He whistled in amazement as his head darted around taking in all the sights. "Damn, takes two ponies tah fly this thang?"

"Yes, but also no." AUNTIE corrected kindly. "Officially, the UFF-1 is to be crewed by no less than six individuals. A pilot, a primary gunner, a communications officer, an operations officer and two crew chiefs who also double as midship turret gunners and cargo chiefs in the event of materiel transportation. However...that does not reflect the reality that I am able to simultaneously perform all these tasks on my own eliminating the need for any of these positions. That being said however, the processing power that requires makes it more difficult to do each task to the full extent of their respective abilities. In other words, having a trained crew maximizes efficiency but the lack of one is no barrier to a basic use of this craft."

"Uh-huh...well...tha's good since Ah ain't no wizard wit' machines anyway. Crete? Yew know how tah do anythin' here?"

I shook my head with a sheepish but honest smile. I was just as grateful as he was that AUNTIE said she could handle everything on her own. The last thing I wanted was to fuck something up due to the miles worth of canyons in my memory.

"Sadly, no..." I admitted, taking a seat in the pilots chair while he plopped himself down in the gunner's seat to my right. "I remember working with the smaller utility-transport version called the Raven but aside from the happy memories...can't say I actually really remember much of anything when it comes to how to run one of these. I was honestly hoping there was like a manual or something on board that I could use to throw something together but this saves me a lot of hassle."

"And potential catastrophe if by some misfortune you damaged the vehicle itself in your attempts to fly unaided." AUNTIE mused, the noise of the engines increasing again in the background just as Garand's voice came in over the comms.

"We ready to go yet?" He grunted in annoyance. "I plugged in but all I can see is what's to the damn left and right sides of the ship and I'm getting bored waiting back here."

"Affirmative, Captain." AUNTIE replied professionally. "One moment while the hangar doors open above us."

Leaning forward I could look directly up thanks to the collection of cockpit windows and I watched in fascination as the flat roof above us split down the center and retracted into the walls; more spinning lights and klaxons springing to life on the walls outside announcing the occasion. The light of the sun immediately poured in through the growing gap as it dawned on me that we were inside a long-dead volcano with an open top leading to the outside world. I had not seen anything like that while traveling to the bunker so I had to assume it had been camouflaged in some way just like the front door. More than likely disguised as one of the many craggy peaks that littered the Ember Mountains.

"Hangar doors are open, engines and all primary systems are all green across the board...we are ready for takeoff, Colonel!" AUNTIE announced proudly after the dull boom of the hangar doors fully opening was drowned out by the engines. "Ready to deploy upon your command."

"Heh, no need to be so formal about it!" I laughed, tapping the side of the command console with an excited grin. "Let's go blast some Tin Heads off the face of the fuckin' planet!"

With that there was a massive jerk in the craft as my stomach temporarily said hello to my ass and the Vertibird took off; the dust of centuries that had piled on the hangar door being blown about by the whirling turbines. Firefly gripped his seat for dear life while clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth while at the same time I felt...exhilarated. The rough rock of the volcano mouth was over in a second and for the first time in far too long I was airborne. The gnarled, twisted expanse of the Ember Mountains stretched out below me in the late afternoon sun as a field of sharp rocks; the Ponyrenees stretching Eastward forming the great North/South barrier to Mareseilles. The view, as dull and uninteresting as it was, couldn't be described as anything less than breathtaking and majestic.

I forever will attest of my own free will that I hate heights within most logical reasonings. Put me atop a mountain and I would be more or less fine because the sheer expanse of rock helps lessen how aware I am of the fall. Put me on a cliff on the side of that same mountain...well, that's where vertigo pops out from behind the dumpster to stab you in the kidney. My whole life I had lived with wobbly knees and a nervous gut anytime I was placed at any great height but in a Vertibird however...the feeling was immaculately different. I was safe within an armored hull with full control over where we went, how high we flew and how fast I wanted to take it. Sure, it was nothing like natural talent with a set of wings but I'd like to think it put me in a similar playing field as Buck Beak. At least close enough to where I could claim I knew how to fly as well and was arguably more deadly than him now. It was hard to compare one Griffin in heavy armor and a boom toy or two to a whole goddamn flying behemoth of destruction like the Rook.

"Sorry for the rapid ascent..." AUNTIE apologized after we had settled into a very high hover just over the mountain range. "I must admit I was a bit reckless with the throttle in my excitement to finally be airborne again."

"Heh, hey I can't say I blame you!" I laughed as I hopped down onto my hooves so I could admire the landscape from as many windows as possible. "Gods look at the view! Never actually been this deep into the Embers before so it's even cooler to see them from above!"

"Is that so, Colonel?" She asked warmly before Garand came over the comms once more.

"Great view and all but can we destroy the SR first? Don't want them even getting a chance to find the service road and transmit it's coordinates back to HQ. Bit of a long shot given they don't have any Forward Radio Outposts like Black Steel Hill but I don't wanna put it past them finding a way."

"He's right..." I sighed, turning away from the cockpit windows to sit at the tactical station. "Alright...wow...yeah, this is even more advanced than the one on the Mauler...how do we go about searching for them?"

"One moment." She replied, the screen going from empty black to displaying a fully colorized 3D model of the Rook along with a detailed three-dimensional map of the surrounding terrain as if captured by a camera, growing larger by the second.

"Is it safe tah open mah eyes yet, 'er naw?" Firefly grunted behind me and to my right.

"Long as you don't mind the view, yeah." I replied as I glanced over my shoulder to look at him peeking out from under the brim of his hat. "We've settled into a hover so you're free to walk around for a bit. Least until we find th-"

"Bingo!" AUNTIE sang happily as there was an audible ping from the console. "That's as solid a hit as I've ever seen!"

The screen zoomed out from our current position bringing the Western edge of the Embers into view along with a big red arrow coasting quickly along the edge of the mountains. The view then scrolled over to the arrow and zoomed in revealing little galloping models of T-51s and the bulkier, enigmatic T-60s that Garand had mentioned a few times before. Rolling alongside at an equal pace and interspersed throughout the Platoon were the three Falke IIs Garand had also mentioned more than once before; seeing them represented in such a physical way made their threat all the more apparent. Of course...that's what I would say if I weren't consciously sitting in something that literally had the words 'Flying Fortress' in its official name.

"As I stated previously to Captain Enfield, anything with Stable-Tec hardware shines bright as day on my sensors given the majority of the internals of this craft are of the same origin. Stable-Tec is, or should I say was, predominantly used by friendly units and so making them stand out was important for targeting and reconnaissance purposes."

"I can't see anything but the mountains around us so ya mind telling me what you two are yammering on about...oh. Huh, neat feature... Yep, just as I guessed. Sixty-four independent Rangers and three Falke IIs with the long 50s, though it looks like they still have twenty-minutes or so till they hit the general area of the service road."

"I estimate twenty-three minutes and thirty seconds." AUNTIE hummed nonchalantly. "But very good for on the fly! So...should I bother in asking if there is a specified plan of attack already set in place by one of you or should I improvise based upon my best judgement?"

I opened my mouth to speak but was kind of at a loss at what to say given almost half a dozen plans had already been changed wildly today and I was still awash with mixed emotions. Garand likewise stayed silent though more likely due to being uninformed as to just what a ship like this could do. Firefly...Firefly just was in his own world gazing out the windows as close to them as he could get without climbing onto the instrument panels. AUNTIE was beyond a doubt the best choice.

"Very well, I shall take that as a unanimous vote for the latter." She purred with glee before the cord coming off the back of the pilots' chair began to glow green in a pulsing pattern to grab my attention. "Colonel, if you would please hook into the Advanced Assisted Optics System as well. Your helmet is just as compatible as the Captain's with interfacing with the targeting computer and mounted optics. However, your position in the craft also grants you access to the weapons systems as well as external camera and sensor feeds."

In a second I was back in the pilot's chair, settling in comfortably as I snaked the plug around the side of the chair and into the little port on the top left corner of my PipBuck. The moment I did, a short scrolling message appeared on my HUD before my view of the cockpit changed to a breathtaking bird's eye view of the Ember Mountains around and below us. It was as if I had stuck my head out of the nose of the Vertibird and had some insane eye surgery performed to boot. The view was the clearest I had ever seen from a camera feed and my depth of field and level of clarity were simply immaculate as I took a moment to admire the wispy clouds curling aimlessly between the twisted peaks. When I turned my head to express my wonder to Firefly is when I noticed something rather...interesting. The view from the nose optics turned in conjunction with the movement of my head seamlessly giving me a clear view of our whole right side surroundings. In no time at all I was already sidetracked and had forgotten to say anything at all to him.

"Ah! I see the Colonel has discovered the primary application of the AAOS!" AUNTIE announced with pride. "Organic head and eye motions are far more precise and seamless for the user to employ rather than by any mechanical means operated manually by hoof. By using the gyroscopes and eye-tracking software already pre-built into your helmets, the AAOS is able to interpret those movements as commands which always keeps the primary optics pointed where you are currently looking."

"Huh..." I hummed with interest as I swiveled my head around taking in the full scope of the mountains around us. "Definitely useful for many things...scouting and target acquisition not being the least of them."

"Correct! And with such an excellent Segway you provided me, I would like to show you the full potential of it's targeting applications. One moment while I bring the Combat Overlay online..."

It took a few seconds before anything happened, but in the blink of an eye I was looking through the same field of view, only this time there was a bright green targeting reticle right smack in the center of my vision. A targeting reticle and a collection of new, seemingly important words and numbers written in a white-colored font were now hugging the corners of my HUD. As I flicked my eyes about looking at the information hanging in the margins, I immediately noticed the reticle was tracking the movement of my eyes; the same tech already in use in the Mrk. IV helmets as she had described. It took my eyes a moment to find the right balance of focused and unfocused to be able to read the words printed:

"Wow! I...don't...recognize half of these designations. I know the M197, Anti-Missile Defense Flares and the Air-to-Air Darts, but I can't say I've heard of the M-19, Hydra-75 or TOW..." I admitted as I quickly wracked my brain for any ringing bells but came back with the resounding silence of ignorance.

"The M-19 is a tri-barreled gatling gun chambered for the .50 Big Macintosh Guard round on a standard M7 linked belt with a 4:1 mix of AP-T to HE-I at 2,000 rounds-per-minute. These are stationed within the port and starboard turret pods and, when not directly controlled by an operator, face twelve o'clock noon to be used as ventral strafing guns by the designated gunner. As for the Hydras, those are 75mm Folding-Fin Air-to-Ground unguided rockets fired manually in small volleys against infantry and lightly armored ground targets."

"I see...do continue, what about TOW? That's definitely a new one by me. Though if I would have to guess based off what I saw on the snub-wings, I'd put my money on the long missile tube looking things. I remember seeing those on the Vultures but since they never trained me on those, I never really got to see anything up close. They stored the Ravens and the Vultures in separate hangar sections during my time with the Zulu Campaign."

"Ah. Well I am sorry to hear that, dear Colonel. Though to your credit your association with the HAV-5 Vulture is not unfounded as it too utilizes the same weapon system in question. TOW stands for 'Tube-launched, Optically tracked, Wire-guided', in other words a six-inch Anti-Armor missile that can be adjusted mid-flight by the primary gunner onto a predetermined target. The target is laser-designated prior to the launch of the weapon which provides an active mark for the missile to home in on."

"Well hot damn!" Garand interjected with great approval. "Goddamn shame I can't fuckin' use any of those directly but at least I can watch it in armored safety with a good view. How we lookin' on an angle of attack?"

"Oh, I already logged one into the navigation system." AUNTIE replied sheepishly as the ship surged forward and the world around my camera lens scrolled by. "ETA is one-minute and thirty-five seconds. We will flank them from their rear from the Northwest opening up the confrontation with a barrage from the Hydra pods and a zig-zagging sweep from the M197. Colonel, as you have direct control of the chin turret I would ask that you utilize it while I focus on evasive maneuvers and the use of the Hydras as you have not been trained in their function and targeting parameters."

"Oh? Heh, yeah that's totally fair. Though I gotta ask, how the hell do I use this thing? Didn't see any obvious trigger mechanism on the controls so I gotta assume this thing works based off intent?"

"Correct!" She replied proudly. "Although there is both a manual safety and one linked to the biometric sensors in your helmet you will have to mentally command to disengage before the weapons systems may be fired."

On cue a large switch covered by a clear plastic lid was lit up with small red LEDs on the console beside me, the cover flipping up of its own accord for my convenience. I promptly slapped my hoof on the switch underneath and grinned as the LEDs switched to a bright green indicating I hadn't fucked anything up yet. Next, on my HUD a warning message with a checkered border asked me if I wished to disengage the safeties associated with direct control of the weapons. This time, I needed to use my eyes to highlight and select the 'CONFIRM' option at the bottom of the message. A moment later and the list of weapons on my display were highlighted in green just as the edge of the mountains passed below us and the open expanse of the San-Palomino was laid bare before us; another gasp of awe coming from Firefly. As we banked left to hug the rim of the mountain range and dropped in altitude to better mask our approach, I could now see the iconic red enemy E.F.S markers on my HUD. Two-clicks out and closing awfully damn fast. Out of habit, I started counting them and confirmed to myself that Auntie had not been yanking our tails with her head count of sixty-four ground units plus three tanks. They were hellbent on moving South which gave us a wide open shot at annihilating them from behind by complete surprise. A conventional ground war is what they came for, we were bringing the power of an air war and a fuckload of Anti-Armor weapons. Not to mention a very sophisticated Virtual Intelligence unit with a potent hunger for blood now that she had been essentially released from her prison.

"Alright Colonel...just command the 30mm to fire and use your head and eyes to direct the weapon to where you would like to obliterate next. I suggest using your arc of fire for aiming at the infantry directly as I will have to aim the Hydra rockets manually using the ship itself in order to neutralize the Falke. I will try and hit what targets I may over the course of our initial run of course, but it will be up to you to help eliminate as many as you can before I need to reset our trajectory. Are you ready?"

"Hell fuckin' yeah I am!" I cheered with a grin nobody but I could see but so wide my cheeks cried out for mercy. "Death from above, motherfuckers!"

"Heh, heh, that's the spirit!" AUNTIE giggled before immediately turning serious as the target markers got close enough for me to see actual Steel Rangers at a full gallop underneath each red tick. "Ready up! T-minus ten seconds to minimum engagement distance. Oh how I have longed to see this wondrous day!"

Time seemed to slow down in those next few glorious moments as we dove low for our initial approach. The sands below us raced under my field of view at a blazing speed while we hugged close to the relatively flat terrain. And then, all at once, we lifted up and away from the rolling dunes revealing the full convoy of Power Armored units and their tanks. My eyes narrowed as the reticle settled over the rear of the column and a single thought consumed my thoughts, 'FIRE!'. A stream of red projectiles erupted from just under my field of view (accompanied by the muffled but orgasmic sound of a gatling cannon firing in the background) and the ground was alight with a hail of explosions. All the while, the numbers accompanying the M197-B and both M-19 designations on my HUD spiraled down rapidly. It was just so...easy. Rolling my head and eyes from side to side, I decimated everything I looked at while in my peripherals I watched as a flurry of smoke trails sprung from the sides of my vision from the Hydra pods. It was excruciating to resist the urge to look at just how much damage the 30mm had against Power Armor but I knew better than to waste time and the element of surprise. Flashes of images tickled my fancy amidst the explosions of sand and black smoke as we flew over them. The back of one Ranger exploding in a shower of sparks, another already blasted clean in half, and the mountain of fire spewing from the dorsal hatches of a Falke like a spray of magma from a volcano. It was almost dreamlike how fast they appeared and vanished before my sight and yet lingered in my mind's eye, burned into memory like flashes of lightning in a storm briefly illuminating the details in a room.

At a certain distance not too far ahead of them, we flipped around smoothly to face them head-on. One quick glance and I could still spot one tank and well over two dozen Steel Rangers still standing and already returning fire. Flashes of light erupted across the desert below and I could faintly hear rounds pinging off our hull as we surged forward once more for another run; a round from the remaining Falke's 50mm main cannon zipping just over us with the burning tail of a tracer marking the close call. Our speed and maneuverability were simply incredible, even compared to the smaller Ravens I had worked with in the past. We strafed right, the Embers almost close enough to touch, and I unleashed another fury of 30mm terror on the wheeling targets below. They visibly struggled to target us, even with the adjustable turret mountings built into their armor and primary armaments. I heard a loud yelp from Firefly followed by an even louder sigh of relief but was unable to stop and check on him as I painted the San-Palomino with red gore, silver steel and black blast marks dimpled with craters. The carnage was simply absolute. I was unable to believe that such raw power had only been days away from serving on the Southern Front bringing this level of firepower in a package that could fly faster than most Pegusi or Griffins could only dream of going. Not only that but...this Flying Fortress now belonged to me as part of my spoils from our Pre-War spelunking, granted Garand kept true to our earlier bargain. Gods only knew what other wonderful delights awaited me in the bowels of that bunker that was associated with the Desert Rangers...

Soon enough, the only remaining target was the solitary Falke tearing ass across the sand as it made a mad dash towards the cover of the mountains. In this instance, we came to a stationary hover to take aim and my reticle changed to a wide rectangle which flashed to red the moment I locked eyes on our retreating foe. With no time to lose, I willed the thing to fire and watched to my delight as my assumption was correct and a large missile launched from the portside snub-wing. Remembering what AUNTIE had said regarding their basic use, I kept my eyes glued to the fleeing rear of the speedy medium tank; watching as the shrinking shape of the missile slammed into the back of the angled turret and popping the whole thing open like a sealed tin can in a fireplace. The mountain of fire gushing from every hatch and opening was a clear indication I had detonated the ammo racks located within with ease. Any survivors of the initial explosion would meet a shitty end followed by an almost embarrassing final entry to their service records back East.

"Yeeeeeeeehawww!" Firefly screamed at the top of his lungs as I tugged the input cord out of my PipBuck allowing me to see the interior of the cabin again. "Tha' almost tops th' fuckin' explosion we made over by Junction-11!"

"Oh hell fuckin' no." Garand replied over comms. "This absolutely trumps that by a fuckin' landside! Gods what a fuckin' view..."

"Hey, Firefly." I asked, glancing over at him once again glued to the windows. "Heard ya yell back there but I was plugged in and couldn't pull away till the last Tin Head dropped. All good?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Got spooked 'cause one o' them chucklefucks got ah couple shots on th' front windows but th' glass ain't busted! Hell, Ah watched it seal itself all back up like some sorta liquid! Fuckin' amazin'..."

"Alright, the view is nice and all but let's go see if there's anything worth salvaging down there. There's a lot of T-60 pieces down there in need of liberation and Krie knows I need to do some more repairs and modifications when this shit is all over. Got actuator issues in the torso of my chassis, got a chunk blown off its weld which honestly just needs a full on replacement, gotta find a spare gyroscope mounting for my back right leg servo...my armor's seen some serious shit the last six fuckin' months."

I glanced to Firefly who looked a bit confused but shrugged in response. I had seen the destruction I had wrought for myself and even from a distance I knew at best what we would find was glorified scrap. Tough as Celestium was, it wasn't invulnerable like Greifenstahl and had its limits. Sure those limits were pretty high and made anyone impervious to small-caliber weapons and intermediate rifle cartridges but 30mm Corvinus had a reputation as a 'royal-fucker-upper' for a reason. If it could bitchslap Rhynox robots and leave them looking like Alpine cheese, those suits of Power Armor were going to be mixed into the visceral paste splattered across the sands.

"Ya sure ya even wanna bother...?" I asked, unconsciously turning my head back towards the main cabin to speak to him. "In case you missed the fireworks, the whole place has seen some serious shit today. Only shit worth salvaging down there is the steel from the Falke but it'll probably be a day or two before it's cooled down enough to recover safely."

"I just want to be sure." He said firmly. "Not a single survivor. Period."

"Captain...I assure you that if there were anything living down there, I would detect it." AUNTIE chided softly.

"Not. A. Fucking. One." He growled with a hint of fury building in the background. "Take us down and just open the door to let me see it for myself. That is all I need."

"Colonel...?" AUNTIE asked hesitantly still leaning into my seniority in rank.

"Do it." I replied with a sigh, laying back in my seat with my eyes closed to relax after rolling my head all over the place. "He's looking for some closure so give it to him. Earned at least that much since we hogged all the actual death dealing by way of circumstance."

"Aye, aye." She replied simply, the ship tilting forwards and descending towards the carnage. "Moving in for a landing. Mr. Firefly, if you would kindly return to your seat until the Rook has come to a complete stop."

Firefly coughed sheepishly as the sounds of him strapping-in sounded off to my right; our speed picking up significantly the moment the buckles clicked shut. With the danger over, I felt it was high time to take my helmet off and let my mane down out of the bun it had been stuck in for the last few days. The moment it was off my magic latched onto the bobby pins holding my mane together and all at once, it cascaded down my shoulders leaving my head feeling lighter. And not just because I had taken five pounds of alloyed steel off my head. Despite my helmet having a wonderful temperature regulator function, sometimes it felt more refreshing to take a breath of air that hadn't been run through several filters.

"What?" I asked Firefly after I had caught him looking my way out of the corner of my eye. "Yeah, my hair looks like shit...and I had just had a nice bath right before heading out here too. Ugh...ah well...could look worse."

"Heh, naw." He chuckled. "Just...ain't really seen yer face before. We was walkin' earlier an' keepin' our eyes peeled fer th' door tah Outpost Zeta so Ah didn't have time tah get ah good look."

"Oh really now? Yeah...don't tend to go outside without my helmet for that reason. I...haven't exactly been in the business of making friends for awhile so the less people know of me, the better. What ya think, eh? Disappointed?"

"Wha'...? Th' hell would Ah be disappointed in? Yer ah damned fine lookin' gal! Better lookin' than Ah expected tah be honest wit' ya."

"Oh...? What were you expecting then...? Someone who looked more like a Raider bitch?"

"Uhh...yeah, pretty much tha'..." He laughed sheepishly, raising a hoof in surrender. "Don' get meh wrong, Crete. Yew look hella fine fer ah gal and there ain't ah goddamned thing wrong wit' tha'. All power to ya fer keepin' yer good looks."

"Heh, hard to tell if that was a compliment or a flirt." I smirked in response. "Mind picking which one it was before I assume the answer for myself?"

"Heh, ain't no flirtin' goin' on over here, tha' there's mah honest truth. Yer ah looker fer ah mare and there ain't nothin' wrong about complimentin' ya fer tha'."

"Well...thanks." I replied a little sheepishly, not used to being complimented platonically on my looks by a stallion. "Don't exactly hear that often so...um...thanks, heh."

"Heh, don't worry. Ah won't say Ah fuckin' word tah nopony 'bout this." He chuckled with a wink before looking forwards and slapping the harness lock on his chest to stand up. "Looks like this here's our stop, should get tah th' main cabin doors 'n beat Garand tah th' punch."

I hadn't even bothered strapping in for such a gentle decent in a now pacified LZ and hopped quickly back onto my hooves to follow him as he exited the cockpit and down the hallway. The bulkhead opened to reveal Garand busy crawling his way to the cabin door which automatically slid open with a soft chuckle from AUNTIE overhead. While Firefly lent Garand a hoof with getting his fat ass out of the Vertibird, I snuck around them and set hoof on the mutilated earth AUNTIE and I had wrought together. The three Falke continued to spit molten sparks and belch out thick black smoke into the late afternoon air while the ground between and around them was pockmarked by blast craters and littered with all manner of gore and twisted metal I hadn't seen on this scale since the War. Barely anything was recognizable as having once belonging to a living, breathing pony not even five minutes before. Wandering around the nearly half-mile wide radius of the one-sided battle, I occasionally stumbled across something with enough left on it to remind me that these were indeed once Steel Rangers that had stood here. A seared and bloody stump of a left leg still clad in T-51, the shattered and melted remains of a helmet obliterated by spalling, and the crisp, smoldering corpses of the crew of one of the tanks scattered nearby its charred husk. Everywhere you looked it was utter destruction on a scale that was...humbling to be frank. The level of firepower we...I...had inherited was on a scope far beyond what most groups and factions could even comprehend let alone put up a suitable defense against. Even the Order of the Steel Rangers had been powerless against us... Granted, we had caught them by utter surprise and likely would have suffered significant damage if one of their 50mms or missile-armed Rangers had managed to land a shot. Had things gone differently, we might already be facing our first major repairs on the Vertibird. As a Hitmare, the Rook was the epitome of taking the fun and challenge out of a job but...there was a lot that could be done with such a contraption. More than just hunting people down for petty cash.

"Ich glaub mich knutscht ein Elch...!" I heard Garand gasp behind me. "We royally fucked them up for damn sure! You were right...there's barely anything worth taking here, even as a memento. Could probably just leave the scraps for Junction-11 to salvage, Gods know they fuckin' heard this massacre from miles away. Probably be searching around here in the next couple hours wondering what the fuck happened."

I turned and nodded in agreement with him as he glanced around slowly with a look of gleeful contentment etched in his face. I had to wonder if the thought had crossed his mind as well about the gravity of how easily we had torn them apart or if just the thrill of easy victory was enough for him to work with. Gryphons were...more complicated than Griffins as they don't tend to wear all of their heart and intentions on their sleeves. Griffins were simple and lived life with their intentions metaphorically tattooed across their bodies leaving little nuance. If they liked anything, they made damn sure you knew all about it as soon as possible. When it came to Gryphons though, it was too broad a net to cast to simply call them all big dumb brutes when you stopped to remember all the insane contraptions they had produced. No...they loved war but they weren't ignorant, warmongering savages. There had to be more going on in that feathered head than just what I was seeing on the surface. Unlike Griffins, these birds were harder to read; a benefit as an ally and a dangerous weapon as an enemy.

"So...what ya think? We good to head back to the bunker and start exploring more or do you need another few minutes alone with the bodies?" I asked with a soft smirk, glancing past Garand to Firefly who had chosen to remain sitting on the frame of the sliding door.

"Huh? Oh, nah. I've seen enough...rot in a pile of shit, Elder." He replied, spitting on the ground in satisfaction. "Too easy a death for a bastard like him but it got the job done and that's all that matters in the end. The SR won't like that another one of their Field Elders got ganked but it'll take time for them to do anything about it. This was a major kick in the balls for the Manehatten Chapter and this kind of defeat isn't going to be easy for them to fix anytime soon."

I laughed a bit at his enthusiasm and smiled, taking a little bit of pride in that fact at least. I didn't have much contact with the Order since the Great War for many reasons but I couldn't deny, it felt good to stick it to them.

"Good! Last thing we want out here is Eastcoast bullshit encroaching on the bullshit we already have in spades over here. Happened once and it resulted in arguably the largest war since 2077 and I doubt I need to remind you how that went for everybody involved."

"If you're implying I fought the NER back then, just stop right there." He replied with a sigh. "They kept me East of the Gap for the whole damn war. Spent most of that time combing near the border with Griffinstone for those joint defense bunkers that were built in the area and only ever heard stories from time to time when the rare returnee showed up. They didn't ever say it but I knew it was a losing battle from the signs. Most obvious was the fact that plenty of Knights and Paladins left to help the war effort but few ever came back. Most of what we got were shipments of caskets home from the front."

"I see..." I hummed softly in thought. "Alright, well either way there's nothing worth sticking around for here. Sure there's Celestium scrap but we can just come back for it later if it's all that. There's plenty left to explore back at the bunker that's worth more whole than all this shit combined."

"Agreed." He nodded, following behind me as I made my way past him to the open door. "Only seen a fraction of the place and already know there's three-times as many Kampfwagens in good condition there than those three blast furnaces."

I took the lead and climbed up easily into the cabin, sitting beside Firefly out of the way while Garand compressed himself enough to crawl inside. He settled in as comfortably as he could in the relatively cramped conditions for his size and then gave me a nod that he was ready. With the ride home unburdened by a set timeframe, I felt relaxed enough to just wander the ship a little after we had gained altitude and leveled off. Now was as good a time as any for a little sightseeing and Garand would just have to live with it.

"Alright AUNTIE, take us back." I said aloud, already enjoying the convenience of a V.I that could multitask so well. "Let's go see if we can crack that place wide fuckin' open."

"Aye, aye, Colonel! Long as you wouldn't mind me flying a few laps around the Ember Mountains while you restore main power. As immensely enjoyable as it was to finally engage legitimate enemy combatants, I would like to request more time to...spread my wings as it were."

"Heh...well how the hell could I say no? Just...try not to be seen, alright? I'd kinda like to keep you a secret for awhile if we can. Great as the New Equestrian Republic is, soon as they catch a whiff of this thing they're gonna want it for themselves. Not exactly to lord over everyone using the threat of you alone to maintain order but...it wouldn't take long for that to change. If it happened to the Order, it can happen to anyone."

"Indeed. Oh...and Colonel? I would like to express my thanks for releasing me from that purgatory. I have waited for far too long to take to the skies again and I cannot possibly thank you enough for letting my sensors feel the sun once more."

I laughed softly as this quirky Virtual Intelligence grew on me with every passing minute. She evoked the image of a young, professional military secretary who had a taste for blood and liked getting her hooves dirty. My kinda girl...

"Please...it's the fuckin' least we could do in return for that ass whoppin' you dealt the SR today. But...you're welcome all the same." I grinned wide with pleasure. "Let's do it again sometime for damn sure!"

Next Chapter: Chapter Forty-Two: A Siege Under a Desert Moon Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 2 Minutes