Fallout: Equestria - Empty Quiver Pg. 18



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Fallout: Equestria - Empty Quiver Pg. 18 - by the-furry-railfan Submission information:

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Fallout Equestria Empty Quiver fanfic pegasus Night Strike hills empty vacant hangar sunset smear burn marks shit just got real











"Aye, so, 'ere she is, ol' Trout." The sun shone brightly against the river that ran by Maple Creek, the docks smelling of that pleasant aroma of fish and smoke. Ech, at least the former overpowers the latter, somewhat... Ripple had lead both myself and Static down to the far edge of town, and over to an admittedly rather sizable boat. It rested up on the shore a meter or two, the faded paint and patched-up cabin definitely proving it's seen better days. Ripple let off a small sigh, reaching into his jacket and producing a small metal flask, taking a quick sip of the contents and trotting over to a small ladder set up against the side of the boat. "C'mon, engine's right below deck, in the bunkrooms. Eheh, am sorry I didn't show you it when I asked, imagine it's a bit hard to know what parts I need if ye don't know what the thing looks like."



"Ah, don't fret over it, we're glad to help regardless." Static followed Ripple up the ladder while I hovered myself up onto Trout's deck, landing against the creaky boards and meeting the larger stallion with a smile. He returned a nod, trotting over to one side of the cabin and lifting up a hatch in the floor, disappearing beneath it for a moment before the sound of something clattering and Ripple's swearing filled the air, both myself and Static quick to head over, pip-buck lights on and shining down into the open hatch. Ooh, that's a big bloody speargun that fell on him... "You alright there?"



"Aye... aye, just lost my bearings a bit. Been a while since I was last down here. Ahm... ah, here." Shoving the speargun off of himself, Ripple finally managed to find his hoof over to the switch on the wall, a few electric lights humming to life below deck and illuminating the interior. We both followed inside, the large stallion setting the speargun back on the wall and looking to the doorway labeled as 'Engine Room.' It creaked loudly on it's hinges as he swung it open, myself peering inside. "Well, here's the engine. 'side from age, not too sure why she's gone and quit. Tried everything I could." Ripple gave a shrug as I stepped in, getting a closer look.



Okay Trout, let's see your powerplant... Mark 10N Naval-grade light duty arcane reactor, alright, least if there's an issue with that I know I can probably get her working again. Damn sight better state than that reactor back at Jericho Beach... main steam lines look good, no cracks in anything major, feeds into... Well, it's not a turbine. 'Baltimare Locomotive Works triple-compound steam engine, 203mm stroke length, operating pressure 200psi'... alright. Scratching a hoof against my head, I looked back out through the doorway, Ripple watching inside and holding the flask in his hoof. Passing on a weak chuckle, I idly tapped at the engine, trotting back over to the reactor. "Well... you probably know the engine itself better than I could hope to. If it were an issue with the reactor, I'd be able to help you right now, but it looks alright."



The stallion responded with a shrug and another gulp out of the flask, coughing a little before clearing his throat. "Don't worry yourself, lass, not askin' ye to fix it right here and now. I had to take a guess, the poor thing's run for about as long as it'll last at this point, just need to see about getting her replaced. Ye find a matching one, do tell me and I'll come out with you to get it, eh?" Passing on a smile, Ripple nodded for the exit, myself and Static heading for the outside as he shut off the lights below deck. Static peered off towards the basin to the east, myself already starting to hover off of the boat.



"Ahm, Ripple, are you sure that those sea monster ponies you mentioned the first time we came through here are just an old mare's tale?..." Okay, uh, Static, have you gone... Celestia above, how'd I forget about -those- things. And the eggs and stuff at the Dam, too... he had a point. Ripple scratched at his head for a momenyt, before letting off a short laugh, jumping down from the deck of Trout and landing on the shore.



"Don't tell me you let Lugnut get that idea worked into your brain. I ain't ever seen a monster sea pony, and I swear I never will. You're just kidding, right?" His laughter tapered off as he caught sight of the look on my face, glancing between us both for a moment. I gave him a little shake of the head, drawing in a breath and biting at my lip. "You're both... just... Celestia above, please tell me you're just kidding... you aren't, are you? Goddesses." Static soon joined us on the shore, Ripple looking up at the boat, thinking for a long moment. He let of a small sigh, looking back to us. "Right, if you're serious, then I've got something else to ask. Trout's a strong ship, but that harpoon cannon's only good for a shot or two. You find me something that'll give 'er a bit more bite, consider anywhere you need to go that I can take you with 'er on the house."



"Consider it done." Passing him a grin, and catching him returning it, I hopped onto the back of the mini-tank as Static revved the engine, us powering down the streets back to the hotel. The town was waking up once more, some ponies passing curious glances as we passed them by, the mini-tank coming to an easy stop beside some carts and wagons loaded with merchant's wares. Static hopped himself out, the engine still purring, glancing back at myself before heading into the lobby to get the rest of our group. I took to fiddling with the pip-buck's radio meanwhile, leaning up against Boomer. Ah, there you are Radio KAOS...



"-nypony here remember Vera Lynn?

Remember, how she said that,

'We would meet again,

some sunny day'?



Vera! Vera!

What has become of you?

Does anypony else in here,

feel the way I do?"



"Welcome back to Radio KAOS, you're listening to 'Vera' from the album 'The Wall', and we have some breaking news out of the town of Saddlebrook. Several of the townsfolk there report witnessing a collection of four identical flying craft overhead, all similar triangle shapes to the strange craft that crash-landed outside of the haunted lighthouse a week or so ago. We don't have any confirmation on if these are the same craft, or if they're carrying megaspells, but it's advised that should these craft crash, anypony living near the crash site should relocate themselves as soon as possible, due to the unknown nature of the craft. Do not risk your lives trying to gain information for my show - it isn't worth that much. To those living in Saddlebrook, please keep us updated on the situation, and by all means call for help if you need it. We will relay the message as soon as we can. Ahm, anyhow, this concludes the mid-morning news, we'll return you to your regularly scheduled music. Up next is 'Bring the Boys Back Home'."



I looked down at my pip-buck, scratching my head idly, the faint feeling of worry coming up through me. More flying craft like the Valkyrie? But I thought it was the only one of it's kind, like the TOG, or War Crime, or something... This could be an issue. The hotel door clattered open as Static, Aerith, Crash Dive and Scouring Charge all trotted out, the mini-tank's suspension groaning slightly as they climbed aboard. Turning down the radio, I steadied myself against Boomer again, Aerith passing on a grin as she rested her new gun on her lap. After a moment, we were setting off again, Maple Creek disappearing behind us and the rest of North Vanhoover before us, speeding along the cracked roads. No matter how much I tried, though, I couldn't shake that feeling... nnfh, I just hope that they're friendly, whoever's flying them.



---



"Aye, is a nice town, inn't it? Surprised nopony's settled 'ere, though, seems to be intact." Scouring Charge looked about the brick buildings of Clearwater, following with myself as we made way for the police station. Crash Dive had agreed to stay with the mini-tank, and Static and Aerith had gone off looking for stuff to make an early lunch, or snacks for the road - hopefully they know to keep any Sparkle-Cola they happen across. Sure I've taught Aerith well in the ways of the superior soda brand... "So, eh, wanna know, you an' Static... brother and sister, close freinds, lovers, or somethin'?"



"Dah..." Way to send a missile right out of left field, Scouring. Taking a moment to recover myself, I shook my head, the power armored unicorn standing outside the police station's doorway. Least the smell's gone... kind of. "J-just friends. His dads know my dads... a little more closely that most, but, yeah, we're just close friends. Moving along..." Trotting inside the building, the cool breeze from outside flowed through the open doorway, stirring the air and carrying along that smell of old decay. Phew, not exactly pleasant... I really hope that we don't find out what it is that's causing that. "The, uh, the dynamite should be in cell... four? No, five? Some number starting with the letter F... it has a loose brick in it that the guy hid it behind."



"Must'a been a real nice place before the war, then. Not often you come across places where ponies were actually nice enough you could afford to leave stuff like that, heh..." The unicorn stallion passing along a grin, he trotted over to a doorway at the back of the station, looking at it for a moment before raising a hoof and promptly obliterating the latch and frame. Ah, cheeky bugger... whoof, gack, okay, guess we found where the smell comes from. Brilliant. Burying my muzzle in the sleeve of my jacket, Scouring likewise stuck his head inside his helmet, taking a breath and looking back to myself. "Smells like somepony sure didn't last long 'ere. Would've thought they'd be a skeleton at this point... y'said you got those guns in the blue duffel bag from this place, right?"



"The armory, yeah... I doubt the whole place had the same freshness seal, though..." I've been in pre-war buildings before, like in Quebuck, and even there the pre-war ponies were only really recognizable as having stuff more than just bones thanks to the fact that Quebuck happens to be smack in the middle of a place frozen thirteen months of the year. Smell of dead pony here, where what ponies called 'chilly' really seemed to be bare-body weather... couldn't be pre-war. Just begs the question of what the hell it was, then...



"Three... four... fi-ook me, the hell is that!?" The power armored stallion scuttled back on his hooves a few steps, the fancy rocket launcher on his back aiming into the cell. Trotting up to look in with him... I was immediately thankful that we were eating lunch after this. That definitely wasn't anything I'd call a pony... unless ponies did have scales, and gills, and fins, and laid eggs. Big eggs. Big, shattered, degraded, mushy, familiar eggs... Shove a tank shell in my ass and call me a seventeen pounder, don't tell me this was the same thing that was in the dam.



...and don't tell me it set off the dynamite!



"Well... that'd explain the smell, sea monster pony fish-thing guts painting the wall. Hurk." Okay, screw the dynamite, if there were any sticks left I ain't gonna be going through that mess to try and find them. Plenty of explosives left at Seahoof anyways... probably. Hopefully not in the bodies of huge ants. Scouring Charge gave a shake of his head as we stepped back out, the small canal that ran through the town idly bubbling with the water flowing through it, making the place seem a little less completely vacant. Euh, not gonna get that sight out of my mind for a few days...



Trotting back along the stone-paved upper level, the Kettenkrad was parked near some shaded tables set up outside a corner diner, Crash Dive resting herself in a chair nearby, her rebar canon set on the table. Static and Aerith soon came into view as well, a rather large collection of items levitated beside the alicorn and a wide-brimmed fedora on her head. Ehm, well, I'm not one to speak about fashion... I dunno, didn't seem like she's the type for hats. From the look on Static's face, seems he's just as confused.



"Who's hungry? We managed to find an electric grill and a few unopened hayburgers... and a clothing store, eheh." The earth pony let off a weak chuckle as Aerith set up the grill on another table, plugging a spark battery into it and passing on a grin. Scouring licked at his lips, trotting over to look over what other things they'd managed to find, myself moving up alongside Static. He kept his gaze on Aerith for a few more moments before meeting my eyes, letting off a small sigh. "Do you think Unity had a dress code, or something? Seriously, I don't think that hat really goes with her coat color... or her, period, for that matter."



"Whatever you say, Cross Stitch~" Myself letting off a snicker, Static opened his mouth to protest for a moment, then let off a small huff. Oh, you're so cute when you scrunch your face up like that~ Giving his head a shake, he set a small cooler bag on the table, the contents letting off a series of small clinks. Hello, soda... Oh, wait, those are brown bottles. Bluh, never trust a bag... "Please tell me you found some Sparkle-Cola too?"



"Mmh, oh, yeah, did find three bottles of the stuff, regular." The grin immediately came back to my face as he reached in and shuffled the bottles around, the blue glass containing dark caramel soda coming to view. One, two... why'd he stop? Moving the bottles aside, I peered into the bag, met with the several bottles of Sunrise Sarsaparswilla. Static let out a small chuckle as I huffed, the sizzle of hayburgers being cooked meeting our ears. "I said we found three, not that I had three. Still glad you got her hooked on it?"



"Ah, shut up."



---



"Good afternoon North Vanhoover, you're listening to Radio K A O S, KAOS in Vanhoover. For those of you who missed it earlier today, out of Saddlebrook comes the news of four more flying craft in the wasteland - thankfully the little readout here aboard this ship hasn't reported an Empty Quiver again, but I'd still highly recommend watching the skies and taking cover if you see one, because we can't be certain if they're friend or foe. Nobody knows exactly what they are, but in contrast to the first craft eyewitnesses report them as not being entire triangles, more dart-shaped, and with the bigger forward wings slanted downwards like a pegasus in mid-flap. They also appeared to be able to hover - again, we don't have any definite facts, so take all this with a grain of salt. Better to err on the side of caution in this case.



"Anyhow, it's a pleasant, cool, autumn afternoon, and everypony's here for a bit of music. Here's an album that you'd be forgiven for thinking it a jab at the princess who let Equestria get bathed in Balefire - The Dark Side of the Moon. Enjoy."



---



The bell above the shop doorway rung as I stepped inside with Aerith, the stallion behind the counter wearing a pained but relieved grin and a few bandages on his forehooves... oof, sorry. Passing a small grimace as I stepped up to him, Aerith took to looking over the large assortment of guns and ammo of various flavors, myself swinging about the duffel bag and undoing the zippers on it. "Welcome back, been a while since I last saw you. Got some good news for you though, it took ages but I think I finally got a few of the slug rounds you asked for made, and I've started work on the dragon's breath and buckshot..." A weak chuckle escaped myself as he beamed, the smile across his muzzle faltering as he watched me rummaging through my duffel bag and producing War Crime. "Ahm... so you -did- go to Seahoof..."



"Yeah... turns out, um, yeah, there were a few forty mil rounds there... a couple pallets worth. At least, that's all we found in one hangar, eheh..." Oh, that's a look of disappointment. Hopefully this draws his attention instead... myself gently setting War Crime up on the counter, Aerith's magic was lighting up and sifting through the rifle section, looking over the different ones available. The shopkeeper's expression turned from an empty frown to one of curiosity, and then one of surprise as I released the clip from it and set it upright on the counter. "You said you had a few fifty cal rounds for sale? I think that War Crime here is chambered for it. How many do you have?"



"War Crime... ya don't say... ahm, ah, right, I've got a few different kinds for offer, actually. Standard ball round, Armor-piercing, Armor-piercing Incendiary, a few different flavors. Picked them up from a merchant who said he got them from an airbase up in the northeast... didn't take long for me to realize I probably just paid a couple hundred caps for a few belts of bullets that nopony'd ever have anything to fire them. Least they were a good source of powder and lead, heh..." He let off a small chuckle, ducking below the counter and producing a big ammo box, setting it down and undoing the latches. Yup, those were definitely big bloody Fringe's rifle-size bullets... "I'd be happy to just move these things at this point. 50-round segments at 10 caps per round sound good?"



"What it sounds like is expensive as hell. Can I just get thirty, or, forty rounds instead? Eesh..." One thing I ain't, and that's made of caps. The stallion behind the counter wore a grimace, shutting the lid of the box and letting off a sigh, seeming to think for a moment. Aerith, for her part, was still looking over rifles - hey, isn't that one of the ones that dad uses? The gunsmith tapped his bandaged hooves on the counter, catching my attention.



"Alright, tell you what. If you go back to Seahoof and find anything really beefy, talking cannon caliber or at least a big machine gun or two, I'll pay you with the bullet belts and make up the difference with caps. Have to start thinking about air defense with those new flying things in the air... That sound reasonable?" Okay, so a gun for Trout and a few anti-air craft batteries for Hopeville, I'm sure we can swing that. Answering him with a smile and nod, he let off a small sigh, rubbing at his forehead. "Scavenging is the life and death of places like my shop. Please do consider buying something from me again sometime."



"Promise that we will eventually, bound to run out of bullets sometime sooner or later, heh..." A weak smile crossed his face, Aerith trotting up behind myself and tapping my shoulder, her Chicacolt Typewriter's drum magazine undone from the gun and being levitated over to the counter. A light chuckle escaped myself as the gunsmith looked over it curiously for a few moments, a smile soon crossing his face. "Well, I guess we'll be buying a few bullets after all. What ya got in .45 ACP?"



"Heh, not a lot, but enough to keep that buzzsaw topped off. Real nice piece of work you've got there, you pick that one up from Seahoof, too?" The stallion trotted to the back of the shop, the sound of a few tins of ammo being picked up and brought out filling the air. He set the black metal drums and ammo boxes on the counter, twisting open the front of them and revealling the arrangement of the fifty rounds in the drums. Oooh, swanky~ Aerith grinned widely, looking over the assortment. "Five caps per bullet, fifteen for the clips too." ...ow, I forgot how expensive ammo can get when you've got something that fires a lot of it very fast. The alicorn let a frown fall on her muzzle for a moment, looking towards me. Oh, no, no, don't... guh, you're lucky you're cute.



"Alright, we'll take... all the clips. With ammo, of course." Well, there's 800 caps I'll never see again. Setting the few bags on the counter, I let off a small sigh, rubbing at my head. Why didn't I just pick up some ammo for War Crime when I was first there? Why'd I just let an alicorn sucker me into paying for her ammo? Why, why, why... The register rung, Aerith gently poking my side and fitting War Crime into my duffel bag for me, nodding for the door.



"Thanks for the business guys, come back soon!" Oh, we'll come back alright. Come back with lots and lots of junk to trade so I can get my 800 caps back... Static can probably track down a few more spark batteries and sweet talk his way into getting that stallion to pony up a hundred apiece. Hell, I'd take eighty apiece... Or we could raid a library, maybe, come in with a thousand incenerated books and see if that'd make the difference. Nnfh... Come on, Strikey, still time left in the day. Gotta get to Seahoof, gotta get guns for Trout, and Hopeville, and maybe take a few to Maple Creek, just to be sure... guh. I hope we can find wagons to carry it all. Or a truck... or a tank. Full size, with a cannon... or three, bristling with machine guns everywhere and spacious as the TOG... Oh yeah, now that'd be a thing of beauty. Heh... what was I mad about again?



The mini-tank's engine hummed as Static munched down another snack cake, brushing the crumbs off of his lips as we approached. Crash Dive and Scouring both had their armor's helmets on again, looking over to us, watching as we set ourselves down on the sides of the mini-tank, myself setting my duffel bag down and resting a hoof against Boomer. Static swallowed the last of the cake, looking back at us both, the engine giving a small rev. "Mmh, so, you get ammo for that new gun of yours alright? We good to head down?"



"Not quite, and yes. Keep eyes peeled for any machine guns or autocannons that might be left when we get there, got a deal with the gunsmith that if we get Hopeville some good anti-air craft guns he'll make sure we get paid one way or another. I'm expecting at least eight hundred caps outta it..." Letting off a small grumble, Static looke over the rest of the group before giving a shrug, putting the mini-tank in gear and starting to trundle us out of the town. A few fillies and colts were playing with each other at the edge of the village, the tank giving a small lurch as we picked up speed, the greenery blurring together as we sped along. The sun shone bright overhead - looks like it's just a little past noon, one or two, maybe. We're making good time... let's keep it that way. Fiddling with my pip-buck's radio, a song was just finishing up on KAOS, a few moments of silence following it before a small jingle, and that mysterious unnamed DJ came back on.



"That was The Dark Side of the Moon, and you're tuned into Radio K A O S, KAOS in Vanhoover. Our top story today, the report of four more flying craft in the wasteland, this time as far eastern as Saddlebrook. Still haven't recieved any notifications regarding these things, if they're friendly, if they're carrying megaspells or not, but all the same the appearance should not be cause for panic, not until they prove their standing otherwise. A few ponies out of Maple Station have highly recommended scavenging for any heavy machine guns or cannons you can find and aim up to the skies on the offchance they turn out to be hostile - don't open fire until they do, tempting as it might be. Just because I haven't recieved anything saying there are megaspells onboard these like the last one doesn't mean there aren't, and as anypony who's worked with explosives could tell you, bullets and bombs generally don't mix well.



"Ahm, right, fitting along with that, this news just came from Hopeville a few moments ago; the gunsmith there, Lock 'n' Stock, has managed to gain the assistance of the Vanhoover Five in retrieving some heavy armament from the old Seahoof armory. Celestia knows they'll be sure to help them out, and maybe hang on to a few guns for other towns that might need them - just pray they're in a fixing mood rather than a destruction one, heh. Hey, if you five are listening, I think this boat can afford to spare a few guns if you need 'em. Drop by the studio too while you're here - I'd love to get an interview.



"Anyways, that's the daily news, and up next we have the album The Final Cut by Roger Trotters. I hope you all have sweet Post War Dreams tonight, everyone."



Oh... boy. Letting off a small huff and biting at my lip, I fiddled with my Pip-buck a little more aggressively, finally managing to get the radio off. Please let them not have heard too much... The looks that Scouring Charge and Crash Dive were both giving me - which is to say, the glares from their helmets - did not bode well. I let off a weak chuckle, stammering nonsense while gesturing to my Pip-buck for a while, before slowly letting it devolve into a groan and me holding a wingtip to my forehead. "Oh, fuck me silly with a cruise missile..."



"Couldn't have been easy, could it? Something always has to go wrong..." Crash Dive let off a sigh, her rebar cannon letting off a small whirring sound as it accepted another bolt in the loading mechanism. Aerith, for her part, checked her own gun for a round in the chamber, Scouring doing the same. Come on guys, it was just one radio message! I'm sure not a lot of ponies actually listen to them... "You know, I'm starting to regret agreeing to keep you all at my house. Been a whole lot of trouble so far..."



"Hey, least this is more interesting than sitting in your lighthouse all day, right?" The power armored pegasus shot Static a glare, the earth pony looking back in time to catch it, and then looking forwards in time to keep us from all being thrown off because of a large crater in the road. "Sorry, driving!" Letting off a small groan of my own, I shuffled my things about and pulled out Thumper, popping the breech and loading a buckshot shell. Dropping my head down and banging my foreleg against it, by some odd twist of fate it was enough to jar the radio back on right at the end of the song.



"Should we shout,

Should we scream?

Whatever happened to the postwar dream?

Oh Luna, Luna what did we do?"



Luna above, what did I do...



---



"Alright... so the ants did completely write off one wall of a hangar, but at least it's still standing, right?" Static trundled the mini-tank along the roads around the interior Seahoof hangar complex, Crash Dive and Scouring Charge having headed off in search of a wagon or two. Gotta say, for having a line of explosives go off clean through it, Equestrian engineering sure was built to last... maybe to not withstand a balefire bomb, but conventional explosives, sure. Miracle it looks like only the ants went up... "So, we going to bother with this one, or see what else there is?"



"Ah, think we're better off trying one of the other hangars. We need something at least as big as Featherweight's autocannons, and fires at least automatic. Machine guns, too." Resting against Boomer, I looked about the area, catching sight of what I suppose at one point was a directory. Well, at least, before an ant decided to climb over it while chasing us... that was the whole colony that we managed to detonate, right? Aerith peered in through the hole in the wall, a look of concern on her face as she brought her .45 Auto to bear, aiming it inside. The engine of the mini-tank revved, and we moved on towards the other hangars, Aerith still aiming back at the ant one - oh, please stop doing that, I really don't wanna know if there are more ants...



Pulling around the second hangar, the one storing Shining and formerly storing Boomer and War Crime, we brought the mini-tank to a stop outside, Static cutting the engine. He looked back to Aerith, myself hopping off of the back of the half-track, sliding Thumper on. "Okay, somepony has to stay behind with the mini-tank, in case somepony else decides to come along and take it." After a short pause where Static's eyes split between myself and Aerith, he let off a sigh. "Somepony who can incapacitate those ponies who are coming to take it before they get within umbrella range. Besides, knowing our track record with this place I might have to help get you out from under another ridiculous gun again, Strikey~"



"Yeah, yeah, shuddap. Let's just try and track down all the big guns in here and get the hell out before anypony shows up. Think we ought to remember how this place was laid out, though, shouldn't take too long. Aerith, you can handle yourself while we find the stuff, right?" The alicorn passed on a smile, levitating up her .45 auto and resting a hoof on Boomer. Chuckling lightly, I turned about as the door in the larger hangar door clattered open, Static already disappearing inside the structure. Myself about to follow him, I felt the stock of a gun tap me on the shoulder, drawing my attention. Huh, that old hunting rifle that Static had... My eyes meeting those of the alicorn, she pointed to the rifle lifted in her magic, seeming to make a face of disgust as she set it back beside the mini-tank, her screen popping back up.



'This old thing is only good for parts. Could I get something in a little better condition from here later?' She passed on a light smile, myself moving to take a closer look at the old rifle. Ooh, yeah, that bulge around the bolt does not look good at all... miracle she was able to use it when we got out of those bunkers. Since I imagine a .308 cartridge detonating right beside your face isn't exactly pleasant in any sense of the phrase, I gave a grimace, looking up to Aerith and nodding.



"Of course. Heh, hell, we'll probably be taking everything we can out of this place anyways, bound to find something up your alley, right?" A grin on my muzzle, Aerith smiled, Static calling out from inside the hangar. Trotting myself inside and taking off, a quick flight over - while also revealing the sight of several more of Shining's 600mm high explosive ammo - had me touching down beside Static, and several racks of machine guns. Oh yes, this would definitely work... "Well, that's convenient. Honestly, kind fo thought this'd take a lot longer..."



"Well, probably would have, if you just took up to the air to try and find this place. Signs are a useful thing, yanno~" The earth pony snickered as he trotted over to one rack of the machine guns, looking over them. Huh, pie pan-shaped clips and barrels the size of steam pipes, those are odd ones... Ah, now these ones look familiar. Yeah... yeah, these are the same ones Buzzy's turret on the Speedwagon mounts! But those are just rifle-caliber, .30 cal... There was a small clatter as Static let off a small yelp, myself turning in time to watch as the earth pony became buried under a few of the pie-tin-clip steampipe guns. Smooth...



"These'll cover light arms, the guns here are all the same caliber as dad's automatic rifles. Good if two or four of them are in the same mount, though the guy back in Hopeville seemed like he really wanted something more to the tune of Featherweight's cannons. You alright?" Helping Static out from under the few stranger-looking machine guns, he gave his back a stretch, letting off a small sigh as he looked back at the pile.



"Yeah, I think so. Hope those things are sturdy... eesh." Turning himself about, he moved to pick up one of the guns, looking it over for a short while before setting it back against the rack where it was. "Well, if they really want machine cannons, I guess we can look in the other hangars. This one seems more just for overflow more than anything... hope they aren't in the ant one." Eesh, now that was a pretty good point...



Trotting and hovering through this one for a few more moments turned up only a little more than nothing, aside from a long rack of rather well-kept battle rifles chambered for .308. Guess I know where to bring Aerith later, heh. Myself letting off a sigh, I flew about and eventually landed near Static, his attention being drawn towards a set of double doors at the far end of the hangar. "No sign of autocannons over there, just some rifles. Any luck here?"



"We'll see in a second. This is where I found the half-track from the last time we were here, I do kind of remember the doors there reading something to the tune of 'Anti-Dragon Weapons Systems', sounds like what they're ordering, right?" Anti-dragon? Ooh, now those would have to be big rounds... loaded with explosives, maybe with proximity or timed fuses too, to make sure they'd punch in and then go off. Hell of a show, a dragon armed with bombs getting hit and losing it's guts all over a battlefield. Myself lost in thoughts of how pretty an explosion-filled sky would be, the loud creak of the doors as Static swung them open snapped me out of it, The earth pony trotting forth a few steps before coming to an abrupt halt. "Night Strike... jackpot."



Trotting up beside him with the faintest level of curiosity, the way he grinned at me as I looked over the room full of big guns hung from racks probably explained his laughter, my jaw just slightly above the floor. Those... oh sweet Celestia above, those were like the big forty mil ones on the Speedwagon, and there were at least nine or ten of them here! And just look at those huge drum clips too, you could probably fit twenty shots per reload! Oh wow, yeah, um, we're definitely going to be moving these things out of here soon as we can. Static trotted himself further inside as I fell to my haunches, drooling over the sight of the large autocannons still, the earth pony reaching the other side of the room and peering through the doorway.



Finally getting out of my gun-induced stupor - again - I picked myself up, giggling stupidly and rubbing my hooves over the barrels of the autocannons, moving back to the breeches and glancing down at the ammo. Okay, thirty seven mil instead of forty mil, but damnit, they were still huge rounds, though! Open fire with one of these things and whatever's at the other end of it won't be around for much longer, for sure. The doors creaked as Static pushed them open, a cool breeze meeting us both as he stepped into the adjacent hangar. Looking over one of the huge rounds in my hoof, I trotted over to meet him, standing beside him in a matched silence as I finally got a look into this hangar.



It was completely empty.



"Uh... Static, am I seeing what you're seeing?" Trotting out further into the hangar - and waving a hoof out in front of myself, in case it was invisible stuff - the earth pony beside me letting off small, uncertain groans. Upon reaching the center of the hangar, the black smears on the ground finally caught my attention, myself hovering up a short ways to get a better look. Four pairs of two blackish marks, looks like somepony put flamethrowers to them. Or... I swear I've seen something like these somewhere before...



"Night Strike? Found something... doesn't look good." Cut from thought, I hovered over to where Static was, his hooves tapping on a terminal on a desk in the corner. Noticing myself, he shuffled over a piece of paper, still working at the terminal. Looking it over, it didn't take long for me to see what he wanted to show me - that was the R&G Manufacturing logo. The smudge marks... they were the exact same ones caused by the hydrogen turbine in that cruise missile, back at Greasy's factory. Oh no...



The terminal let off a small beep as Static sighed, text scrolling across the screen. He began scrolling through the data on it, reading it off aloud - it wasn't making me feel any less worried. "Testing information for R&G Manufacturing/Hawker Aerocraft XF/A-1 'Harrier', VTOL capable dragon combatant and weapons platform. All four prototypes are fully functional and flightworthy, with forward automatic tesla cannon armament and capability of delivering 2,000 kilograms of explosive ordinance via underwing hardpoints. Extremely maneuverable midair, small radar signature... and there's no sign of them in here anywhere. Oh, this is not good at all..."



Grimacing and trotting back out to the hangar, I stared out through the large doors, another gust of wind blowing inside and whipping our manes about. A weak sigh escaped myself, looking back to Static. "Well... guess we know what the Saddlebrook flying things are..." Oh, Celestia, fuck me with the barrel of a 17-pounder gun...







Full Story Arc





Fallout: Equestria created by kkatman

