Fluttershy stood awkwardly outside the door to the Ranger Compound. She had already drunk a handful of blood packs, but she was having more trouble shaking off the side effects of her vampire form than usual.

The Psycho had done too good of a job drawing out her vampiric aggression. On top of that, coming down from it had left Fluttershy feeling as sore as she had the first time she’d tried the Enclave’s military fitness program. Even with medication on hand to counter possible addiction, it was clear that the Psycho was a tool of absolute last resort when all other options were exhausted, preferably with a significant supply of blood nearby.

Thankfully, Adam hadn’t noticed what Fluttershy had taken, and he’d been happy to head inside and speak to the Rangers in her stead. Ostensibly, it was so she could try and wipe the worst of the congealed Super Mutant blood off of her armor, but really she just wanted to try and cool her head in the wintry air. The fact that it also allowed Fluttershy to avoid dealing with the usual questions about magic, the Rainbooms, and being a vampire was just a bonus. That, and it was easier to resist the urge to bite someone if they were safely behind solid steel doors.

As she was contemplating whether or not to drain her last blood pack, Fluttershy heard heavy footsteps approaching from inside the compound. Sure enough, a few seconds later the door opened and Adam stepped out, carrying his helmet under his arm. Fluttershy greeted him with an anxious smile and tried to ignore the steady thumping of blood running in his veins. “How did it go?”

“Not bad, actually,” Adam replied. “Luckily, none of them are injured, but they’ve asked if we can head around to Underworld and check up on Reilly for them.”

Fluttershy nodded eagerly. She felt a little bad for thinking it, but the sour reek of ghoul-flesh was enough to mute the worst pangs of her bloodlust “Of course, that’s not an issue. What about the Brotherhood’s request for assistance?”

“The Rangers can’t make any deals without Reilly’s say so, and even then they’ve already been commissioned by another client to thoroughly map out the local wasteland and the downtown ruins.” Adam held out a boxy little device with what looked like a tiny radar dish on top. “They were given these geomapper modules to do it with, but I’m thinking we could ask the Brotherhood and the Enclave to provide the Rangers with mapping data in return for assistance against the Super Mutants.”

“That’s a good idea,” Fluttershy agreed. “We’ll see what the Elder thinks when we get back to Rivet City.”

“But first, Underworld.” Adam stuffed his helmet on and made to set off into the ruins, only to hesitate and glance back at Fluttershy. With a wry smile, she checked the map on her Pip-Boy and started walking in the right direction. “Remind me to see if the Brotherhood or the Enclave have any software that’ll let me integrate my Pip-Boy with my power armor. Having a destination marker on my HUD would probably be a damned sight more useful than the armor’s targeting assistance program.”

Fluttershy nodded and added a note to her Pip-Boy to remind herself. Anything that could help with Adam’s abysmal sense of direction would be a godsend. When she was done, Fluttershy took a deep breath and stretched out her aching back. “Even if the Rangers can’t help us, we managed to earn some goodwill and take out a Super Mutant raiding party, so the trip wasn’t a total loss.”

“True, but I can’t help but wonder what the Super Mutants were aiming for out here,” Adam said. “Either they’ve synthesized more FEV already, or Shephard has something else up his sleeves. Either way, something fishy is going on.”

The thought of it made Fluttershy grimace. She was thoroughly sick of Shephard’s devious plots. The sooner someone found a way to put that wretched monster down, the better.

As if sensing her dark thoughts, Adam loudly cleared his throat and tried to change the subject, “So, anyway, uh… new outfit, huh?”

Fluttershy felt her cheeks burn the moment he said it. She had been hoping that he would comment on it eventually, but the fact that she was still liberally splattered with Super Mutant blood made her a little less enthused about showing it off. “It’s, um, it’s more practical for me. I don’t feel the cold and I heal too quickly for minor scrapes to be a problem, so the extra fabric was just extra weight. Plus, this gives me easier access to veins and muscles if I need to use a stimpak on myself or something.”

“Easy access?” Adam’s helmet obscured his face, but somehow Fluttershy realized that his glance wasn’t aimed at her face.

A devilish thought rose from the back of Fluttershy’s mind, in a fit of vamp-induced confidence she blurted out, “Stare all you want, but the armor isn’t coming off until we get back to Rivet City.” She leaned towards Adam and grinned, revealing her fangs. “Unless you ask nicely.

“I-I wasn’t- I mean, I don’t, well… if I ask nic-whoa!” Distracted, Adam somehow managed to trip over his own feet and pitched himself head-first into the snow, earning an unintentional snorted laugh from his companion.

It looked like Rivet City was finally getting itself back under control, much to Elder Lyons’ relief. She had spent the better part of two hours traipsing all over the ship helping the security team maintain order after the recent magical outburst. President Shoichet suspected that it was caused by something called a Sonic Rainboom; a ‘harmless’ magical wave caused by extreme magically-assisted speed.

That hadn’t stopped half of Rivet City from going absolutely batshit crazy. Several residents had tried to eat the metallic plants or lick the walls in an attempt to gain magic powers, a bunch of drunks had gotten into a brawl because they thought the barkeep had spiked their drinks, one moronic teenager had had the genius idea to stick his dick in a glowing glass beaker and got the entire science section closed down, and the local Disciples of Harmony had decided that the incident was a blessing from their goddesses and tried to instigate a city-wide festival.

Lyons supposed that she should just be happy that the Rainbooms weren’t present. It had been hard enough keeping the Disciples from bothering Luna, Sonata and Trixie, keeping them away from the Rainbooms as well would have been almost impossible.

“Elder Lyons!” Someone called out.

Resisting the urge to swear loudly, Lyons glanced over her shoulder to see an Enclave technician hurrying towards her. The Elder tensed, wondering if she should have worn her power armor, but the tech simply stopped next to her and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “President Shoichet has requested a meeting now that everything has quietened down.”

Lyons sighed and gestured for him to lead on. The guest room that the President was staying in was on the same deck as the Brotherhood’s temporary command center, so there wasn’t far to go. Better to see what the woman wanted and deal with it as soon as possible. Agent Drops was waiting outside the room when the pair arrived. She nodded in greeting, opened the door to address the President, then stood aside for the Elder to enter.

“Elder Lyons, good to see you,” President Shoichet said brightly as Agent Drops closed the door behind her. Lyons was surprised; Agent Drops was intensely overprotective of her charge, yet here she was leaving the President alone with someone who not that long ago would have been her enemy. The President herself was sitting at a table with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in front of her. She gestured to the chair opposite. “Have a seat, I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who needs a break after all of the recent bullshit.”

It took a second for Lyons to believe what she was seeing, but she took the offered chair and let the President pour a glass each. “I didn’t take you for a drinker.”

“I dabble,” Shoichet replied, pushing a glass over. “Especially when I’ve spent all day putting out fires.”

“That’s fair.” Lyons took a sip and marveled at the taste. It was a lot better than the gut-rot crap the Scribes traded in or brewed on the side. “How is Doctor Strong doing? I heard she was injured in the attack on Project Exodus.”

The President smiled wryly. “She’s doing okay. Well, she’s awake, anyway, but she’s furious at how far the Super Mutant attack put back our plans for the portal.”

“Did they manage to damage the portal?” Lyons asked, eyes wide.

“Not directly, but they killed several of the attached scientists and trashed the equipment we used to mass-produce essential material,” Shoichet replied. Seeing the Elder’s curious look, she explained, “Francium. It’s incredibly rare; our scientists estimate that there’s only a few dozen to a few hundred grams of it occurring naturally in the Earth’s crust at any given time, and even its most stable isotope only has a half-life of about twenty minutes. We can synthesize atoms in the Base Crawler’s lab, but the equipment there can’t produce enough to keep the portal open for more than a few milliseconds, even if we can find another SDT-1. We’re having to go back to our old plan of refitting a Delta IX rocket so it can dimension-hop.”

Lyons frowned, wondering how the Rainbooms were going to react when they heard of this, then shook her head and chose to focus on something else that had been on her mind. “What exactly is an SDT-1? Are they pre-war tech, or are they from the Institute, another Enclave faction, or what?”

The President sipped her whiskey and glanced at the door. “What I’m about to tell you is classified top secret, so keep it to yourself for the time being. The SDTs aren’t terrestrial, they’re Zetan; alien technology.”

Lyons almost spat out a mouthful of whiskey. “Alien?!”

“Keep your voice down!” Shoichet hissed. “Yes, alien. The one the Enclave owned was found in Josselin in France in the 16th century, then brought back to England by a knight during one of their wars and kept by his family as an heirloom for centuries until they moved to the USA and, eventually, joined the nascent Enclave before the war. In fact, they were one of the original developers of the biogel we use in robobrains and the like.”

“You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Lyons said weakly. She knew that the Brotherhood had stored several strange power cells in the Citadel, cells that some of the Scribes had insisted were alien, but she assumed they were tall tales made up by researchers to alleviate their boredom. “Do you have any proof?”

Shoichet shrugged. “The tech in the SDT matches that found in other artifacts that we’ve confirmed are alien, which raises some concerning questions about how the aliens managed to build something capable of detecting Equestrian magic centuries before it ever came to this reality. Hopefully it was just a fluke.”

“Speaking of magic, how is Sunset Shimmer doing?” Lyons asked, eager to change the subject.

“She’s still in a coma, but she’s stable,” the President replied. “Don’t worry, I’m throwing every resource in the Enclave at her. Some of the more insular assholes are giving me shit over it, but they can go fuck themselves.”

Lyons let out a humorless laugh. “I know how that feels.”

Shoichet gave her a sympathetic look. “Let me guess, they’re giving you shit for inviting ghouls into your ranks?”

“Among other things,” Lyons admitted. “Hopefully, things will calm down once we’ve built our numbers back up and we’ve secured a steady supply of ammunition from somewhere.” She drained the last of her whiskey and set the glass on the table. “And on that note, I’d better get back to work. As soon as Fluttershy gets back I’m sending her, Pinkie and Cross to Little Lamplight on a diplomatic mission, and I need to figure out who I’m sending to the Pitt to make a trade deal with the ammo dealers there. Any chance you could lend the Brotherhood a Vertibird for the trip?”

The President shook her head. “No can do, sorry, they’re all either already on assignment or in for maintenance. If you;re sending a team to the Pitt, though, the Vertibird collecting crystals from Raven Rock picked up a transmission that you might be interested in.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 188 - The Team Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 17 Minutes