After a short while of wandering back about the innards of the ship, we all finally managed to get back to the outside, a gentle breeze blowing in from the ocean as we made our way across the long walkway down onto the dock. Ripple was still sitting at the edge of his boat with his line cast out into the water, a few small fish flopping about on the deck beside him. As we approached, Ripple let off a small grunt from aboard Trout, giving a small glance back to us, setting his pole in a holder and trotting to meet us near the large old gun turret. “I know what ye want to do, and my answer's no. You put that thing on here now and Trout’s not going to need an anchor anymore." His gaze moved from the group and narrowed upon both Night Strike and myself. "Please tell me you two aren’t being serious with this.”

Night Strike gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, uh, yeah, actually.” The pegasus rubbed at the back of her head while Ripple let his jaw slacken, letting out a small huff. “W-we know it's too heavy, have it figured out already. We'll take the mini-tank off and spend the night while you bring this back to Maple Creek, the DJ wants us to stick around anyway since he couldn’t fit us all in at once for an interview.” The sailor pony looked between the gun turret and the mini tank a few times before giving an unsure sigh, pulling in his reel and scooping up the fish from the deck.

“Alright, I’ll be back sometime tomorrow around noon, then. One of the ponies here that runs their own fishing boat up from Vanhoover showed me a smoother way back.” He tossed his fishing gear below the deck and dropped the fish into a small covered cage beside the steps to the controls. “Now, make sure you take that mini-tank off first, don’t want to have to bail Trout out from the bottom of the ocean just a few days after getting her working again.”

The alicorn gave a weak nod, supporting herself on the turret and turning attention to the ship. Both Aerith and Scouring’s horns began to glow as they lifted the small half-track and wagon off of Trout, the small boat bobbing up slightly in the water as the weight was removed. They gingerly levitated the tank over and set it gently on the hard shore, Aerith looking especially weakened by the effort. The mix of their auras dissipated from the tank and moved over to the large turret, slowly lifting it back up onto Trout. The boat sank back down into the water slightly as the gun was lowered onto it, almost matching where it was resting when the half-track was aboard it instead. Ripple leaned over the side of the boat to look down at us, pushing aside one of the mounted steampipe guns. “Aye, you sure you’re fine staying here? Do you even have somewhere to sleep?”

“Don’t worry, somepony up on the ship said the museum probably has some place to sleep. Something about not wanting power armor below decks.” Night Strike chimed in, giving a glance over to Aerith and going to rummaging around in her duffel bag. Ripple nodded and walked into the main cabin, myself and Crash Dive untying Trout from the dock. Her engine chuffed up to life, pulling her backwards out of the harbor and turning her about, the small ship starting to head back towards the mainland. Heading back to the shore, I hopped into the driver's seat, the others climbing on behind. “Ahm... I think I see the museum back that way.” Night Strike pointed off in the distance, a road leading up into the small hills of the island, with what looked like a clock tower poking out between them.

I revved the engine and began to follow the road up, the treads kicking up a few pebbles as I rolled onto the cracked road. The path turned back and forth as we travelled up through the hills of the island, the clock tower slowly coming into better view. As we turned one corner, we arrived at a small square, a large wooden building standing at the opposite end. The clock on the tower was stuck at 7:43, grass and bushes growing through and around the cracked pavement. I pulled up in front of the building, a rusted sign hanging on the side reading ‘Bull Isle Museum’. “Bugger me... think anypony still lives here?” Scouring asked.

“It was only Jim, White Noise and Fowler aboard the HMS Cadence, I think it's safe to say this place is pretty well abandoned.” Night Strike slid herself off from the back, looking about. I climbed out of the tank myself, glancing around the small square worryingly. It better be abandoned, I really don’t want to be woken up in the middle of the night by ghouls tearing my flesh off. Night Strike pushed open the double doors of the museum, stepping into the dimly lit lobby as we all followed suit. The lobby had a few dirty chintz benches set up along the sides, a round desk situated in the middle with a sign hanging above it, listing off admission prices.

I flopped down onto one of the benches after laying down my umbrella close by, Crash Dive removing her helmet and lying down on another one. I closed my eyes, listening as the rest found their own beds, trying to ignore the heat of the room wafting in from outside. Ugh, this might not be a good night...

---

I awoke to the sound of some soft chittering, opening my eyes to see some mouthparts, a large radroach sitting on me. “Nyaaaaah, getitoffgetitoffgetitoff!!” I screamed, whimpering and yelling as I stood up sharply, shoving the bug off of me. It landed on its back, legs twitching uselessly in the air before I picked up my umbrella and smashed it down into the creature, its legs curling up as it died. I panted, looking over to see Night Strike trotting back in from a side room.

“Nnnfh, well, good morning to you too, Sparky... Hey, I guess we just have to have you sleepy to kill stuff!” Night Strike let off a loud snicker, myself shooting her a glare and fitting my umbrella back onto my back. Looking about, it was the least bit surprising that it was just us here. Looking back to Night Strike, she gave her back a stretch, letting off a grunt and answering my confusion. “The rest are already heading off to their interview, probably won’t be back until a little before Ripple shows back up again. They, uh, they took the mini-tank too, so we’re kind of stuck at the museum.” I shuddered and stood up, still recovering from my wake up call, giving my head a shake. I really didn't need that... “Ooh, but look what I found! Guess what one of the exhibits is~” She trotted over and showed me a small faded pamphlet folded over to a simple guidemap, her hoof happily pointing to a dot with some crude representations of weapons around it. “Weapons of the Equestrian, Gryphon and Zebra Empires!” She said, giddily. “Maybe they’ve got a Balefire Egg Launcher there!”

Letting off a small sigh, I rolled my eyes in response, following her through the building. We walked up some old stone steps towards the back of the museum, passing by a life sized whale model, the cords that had been suspending it from the ceiling having snapped from age, and now lay in a tangled mess over it. Turning down another corridor, we stepped into a large room with several display cases and stands littering it, a few propaganda posters plastered on the wall.

Walking over to one of the small displays, inside it held a laser rifle stood on a small stand. Brushing off some dust from it, I read the plaque in front of it as Night Strike looked at a lever action rifle on the opposite side of the display. Hm... 'The AR-13 Magical Energy Rifle. This model tends to be used more for private purposes than front line combat due to its high visibility.' Not to mention anything better than some bits of leather can deflect it without so much as a burn mark, assuming dad’s not just defending his preference for plasma the way he does Sunrise Sarsaparilla.

Wandering over to another display, Night Strike did the same, ogling some faded pictures of ridiculously large battleship guns. Some sort of large rifle lay on the display, though it looked much more worn and damaged than the lever action rifle had been, and was sporting a scope. 'Standard Zebra Rifle. This weapon fires in three round bursts and is enchanted to ignite its targets. Despite being commonly used by Zebras, this specific gun was captured during the campaign to liberate the Foalland Islands from Gryphon forces.' I lifted up the rifle, only for the scope to fall off and shatter. Okay, so this thing is probably too broken to be worth anything now. I tossed it back onto the display as Night Strike spoke up. “Hey, come check this thing out!”

I turned to see her standing at a display where a long, slender sword stood on a stand, its blade still shimmering a little in the light. I grinned as I walked up to it, looking it over and brushing a small caked layer of dust off of the glass. Its faded golden handle was wrapped in a scarlet piece of cloth, the hilt of the sword emblazoned with a large sapphire, silver metal stretching out from it around the hilt in a spider like fashion. “This sword was presented as part of a peace offering from Golden Quill, one of the Gryphon Empire's top military leaders, following their defeat in the Foallands conflict. The gem in the center generates a powerful electrical discharge when the blade makes contact with any conductive surface.” Night Strike read from the plaque, wearing a smile. Ohohoho, this thing is sounding better and better by the second!

After a moment of carefully removing a pane from the old glass case, and cringing as it shattered upon slipping to the floor, I lifted the sword off of the stand, turning it over in my hooves. I furrowed my brow, opening my mouth and tilting my head a little. “Ehm… Crap.” Tilting my head again, I bit down and gave the sword some test swings. I spit the sword out back onto the display, rubbing the back of my neck a little. “Well, this thing is clearly wasn’t made for ponies, the blade’s gotta be at least twice a heavy as the hilt.”

Night Strike picked it up in her hooves, feeling the weight of it and seeming to try and balance it a little. She spread her wings, flapping them and hovering in the air, looking down at the sword in quiet contemplation for a moment. She gripped the blade, swinging it in the air a few times, a grin spreading across her face. “Well, I might be able to use it.”

I snorted a little, my own mouth curling up into a slightly condescending smirk. “Oh, please, you’d be likely to end up chopping off your own legs with it. It’d be like if you told me to disarm a bomb.” Night Strike gently lowered herself back to the ground, giving a laugh and a look of disbelief. She trotted back around the side of the display, walking with the sword like a cane.

“Pfft, c'mon Sparky, it’s a sharp piece of metal with fancy detailing and a nice electric kick, how hard could it be to use?” I shook my head, the smirk on my face growing a little wider. We began to make our way back towards the lobby, Night Strike rolling her eyes again. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure learning how to swing a sword around is soooo hard.” We stepped down the stone staircase into the lobby, the sun shining in through the dusty skylights and illuminating the places where the dust was disturbed by our presence. I squinted my eyes a little, still wearing my smug smirk, glancing at the pegasus as she tried handling the blade again. I trotted over to my umbrella, flipping it up and grabbing it in my mouth.

“Alright then, let’s try it out, if you think it's so easy.” I said, around the metal handle. Night Strike raised her eyebrow, that short chortle from her proving she's clearly not taking me seriously. “Hey, you said it’s not hard, let’s see if you can actually back that claim up. Umbrella versus sword.” Night Strike’s face became a little smug. She braced herself, spreading her wings out. I bit down a little harder on the umbrella, the prongs on the end crackling slightly.

“Don’t be upset if I end up cutting off your ear, then.” Night Strike leapt up into the air, zipping around behind me. I stepped to the side to keep myself facing Night Strike. She dived down, pulling the sword up, about to swing it. I jumped to the side, ducking a little as the blade came down beside me. I twisted my head, deflecting the sword. Night Strike wavered, flapping her wings and spinning in the air to reorient herself.

She shook her head, shifting the sword in her hooves a little, looking at myself. She flew in for another dive, this time attempting to slice horizontally. I slipped down beneath her, flipping my umbrella upwards. Night Strike’s eyes widened, aware of what she’d done a second too late. I jabbed upwards, my umbrella connecting with one of her hind legs. Night Strike fell to the floor into a clump, the sword spinning away on the hardwood floor. She coughed, shakily getting back up onto her hooves. “Now, you sure you really want to try using that thing on somepony with a rifle?” I asked smugly, leaning on my umbrella a little.

“Nnfh, yeah, yeah, I get your point.” Night Strike coughed, smoothing out her frazzled mane. She trotted over to pick up the sword before turning back over to me. “I wasn’t trying that hard, though, I didn’t want to end up stabbing you. Gotta have somepony to keep me from blowing myself up, right?” I rolled my eyes again, trotting back over to her.

“Suuuure, and I’m planning on giving away all the caps we’ve made to charity so I can go and live alone in the mountains.” Night Strike stuck out her tongue at me playfully and I returned it. Letting off a small sigh, she sat down on one of the benches, leaning the sword beside herself. She looked down at her Pip-Buck, flipping over to the clock, a small chuff of air coming from her nose, unsure of what to do next. “We still got a lot of time, I take it?” Night Strike nodded, leaning back on the cushioned bench. I looked around the lobby, half wondering if there were something else in the museum worth checking out. As for the other half... “Well, I could always teach you some stuff.”

Night Strike shrugged, standing back up. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. So long as you promise to keep the quips to a minimum.” I grinned and trotted to the center of the room, Night Strike standing beside me. I stood up on my hind legs, holding my umbrella out. After a moment of thought, Night Strike did the same, using her wings to help stabilize herself. I fell back onto all fours, trotting around Night Strike as she help her pose.

“Don’t hold the sword out too flat, you’re using too much of your lower leg muscles, they’re not nearly as strong as your flanks.” I suggested, helping to correct her stance. “You want to use your gut to swing if you’re holding it in your hooves.” I tilted my head a little, grimacing slightly. “This would be a little easier if that sword wasn’t weighted the way it is. Damned pre-war Gryphons...” I muttered. Night Strike wobbled a bit, trying her best to keep her balance, myself thinking quietly for a moment. “Suppose we’ll just have to get you used to this first.” Night Strike looked a little flabbergasted as I walked back and sat down on a bench, her mouth making some noises in disbelief for a few moments before looking back at me.

“You’re not actually going to make me just stand here for an hour, are you?” I simply flicked the switch on my Pip-Buck, searching for KAOS. Night Strike grimaced and glared at me, shifting her legs as the weight of the sword was already putting strain on her. “You can be a real jerk, you know.”

I smirked in response, finding the station. “Good morning North Vanhoover, you're listening to Radio KAOS, and we've got quite a few guests here today for the program. In case you missed it yesterday, the Vanhoover Five happened to stop in to give us here those interviews I've asked for previously - glad to know they actually do listen to my station, heh. Due to… structural limitations, we could only get two of the five interviewed last night, but we’ve got the other three right here today. So, without further ado, how’re you folks doing today?”

“Aye, was there really no bigger place t' set up the studio'n this ship?” Scouring Charge grunted. The DJ gave a slightly embarrassed laugh, and the sound of scraping metal could be heard. There was a short pause, before he moved to ask for their names. “Ah, I’m Scourin' Charge, the other power armored mare 'ere is Crash Dive, an’ the one you can’t hear is Aerith.” The faint sound of magic flowing could be heard, Crash Dive giving a sigh through her speaker.

“Uh, thanks for the greeting, but unfortunately I don’t think our visitors are going to be able to read magic signs over the airwaves. Ahm, sorry.” Boy, this interview sure was off to a great start, wasn't it? “Ahm, anyways, where’re you from? How’d you end up joining up with those two from up north?” There was a silence before Scouring spoke up again.

“Well, I was just wandrin' 'round near Hopeville after I got separated from my Steel Ranger comp'ny. Just decided to tag along, really, didn't have much else doin' at the time. Aerith here, the one that can’t talk, as you know already she was one of the slaves from that camp in the old military bunkers on the coast, the one we saw to sending off with a bang, heh. Can't be sure who she was before the dipping, but she’s rather pleasant now. Will say it's a good thing she was one of the lucky ones not nearby when the Goddess was killed by th' Lightbringer. Can't say I know too much about Crash Dive 'ere, though. Isn’t much one for talking.”

Night Strike wobbled in place, shifting on her hooves and trying to keep the sword parallel with the floor. “Night Strike and Static crashed down near my house in their aircraft.” Crash Dive said over the air, flatly. “I'm not exactly a fan of all the attention it wound up drawing, to put it lightly. I’m helping them look for what they need to fix up the Valkyrie, anything else we’ve been doing has mostly been their ideas.”

“Ah, well, hopefully you’re able to find what you need soon, then.” Releasing a small chuckle, the DJ paused. “Actually, now I think of it, it probably wouldn’t hurt for you guys to try heading up north to Maple Station. There used to be some old coal mines up that way, maybe they’ve got some old generators left over from before the war. Other than that, there's always...” I glanced up from poking at the dead radscorpion to see Night Strike leaning on the sword, rubbing one of her legs. She looked over to see me, giving a nervous grin. I raised an eyebrow and she grumbled, lifting the sword back up again. I focused back on the broadcast. “…so any of you up at Maple Creek should keep an eye open for the Vanhoover Five, they might be stopping by in the near future! Oh, and don’t forget to visit the Stiff Drink while you’re up there, they’ve got some of the best entertainment outside of Vanhoover.”

I flicked the radio off, trotting over to Night Strike, seeing her face scrunched up slightly. “Alright, alright, you can stop.” She dropped the sword, letting it clatter to the ground as she flopped onto all four legs with a loud huff, her front ones shaking a little. “Jeez, don’t break it! We just got it, for Celestia's sake...” I lifted up the sword, inspecting the blade for any damages, thankfully finding none. Huh, really nice build quality on this thing. “You’re going to have to get used to this thing’s weight at some point, though. Otherwise you’ll end up getting exhausted mid battle.”

Night Strike took the sword and slung it over her back, giving her head a shake. “I think I’ll stick to Thumper for now, at least I just need to point that thing. No stupid flailing and hacking and whacking and crap. You sure you don’t want it?” I shook my head a little and began to walk towards the door that opened into the square.

“No, I’m going to break my neck if I try swinging that around for more than two minutes. Besides, I do still want to try and keep casualties to a minimum… even if that’s a little hard wandering around with you.” She smirked as we stepped outside, the sun high above us. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, the Island mostly silent otherwise. “Come on, I think they’ll be done with their interview soon, we can meet them partway down the road.” We began to walk down the broken stone towards the pier, the road twisting its way through the rocky hills of the island.

---

"You're listening to Radio KAOS, it's a beautiful Vanhoover day, and my little island has five rather well-known visitors on it, heh. Last three of the vanhoover Five just wrapped up their interviews, but don't worry if you missed it, because I remembered to have the recording equipment set up today. I'll be playing it again later tonight, and possibly seeing if I can't convince the first two to come back in so I can have some recorded material to play back for you. Don't want to have them retell their story entirely, but it's something you have to hear to believe.

"As Crash Dive again reiterated from last night, the first two's aircraft, the Valkyrie, crash-landed in a live minefield, and that they did find the remains of somepony who didn't know what to look for when going near it. Please, for the sake fo your lives, don't seek out information about the Valkyrie - if they want us to know, they'd tell us, and they've been pretty forthcoming so far.

"You're tuned into K A O S, KAOS in Vanhoover, and I've got a lovely little selection of music for you all here today. Hopeville, Maple Creek, you're the ones with all the guns, let's hope you can tell an actual threat from Ninety Nine Red Balloons, heh. Enjoy."

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