Dammit, Night Strike, do you have to keep drawing attention to us? Aerith and I bent down to help her back upright as a few ponies looked towards our booth. Night Strike was out cold, though I suppose she should be thankful her head didn’t seem to be cut up at all. Well, that’ll at least be one trip to the hospital we won’t need. I slapped her lightly across the face a few times, Night Strike mumbling a little before her eyes fluttered and she lifted her head back up. “Guuh, what just happened?” she asked, rubbing her head lightly as she looked around. I shook my own head and leaned back against the cushions of the booth, letting off a long sigh.

“Sheesh, there’s being star struck and then there’s being obsessed, yanno.” I said as Night Strike collected herself. She suddenly perked up as another song began, Vera’s smooth voice reverberating through the hall. Night Strike squealed as she tried to look above the audience again, balancing precariously against the table, myself moving up to grab her by the jacket and pull her back onto the cushions. “Okay, we’re not going to test your head’s ability to withstand blunt trauma again.”

Night Strike continued to shift in the booth to look through the ponies sitting in front of us, trying to get a good view of Vera. I let off another sigh and leaned against the table as a waiter walked by, supplying a nearby group of stallions with a few glasses of scotch, Scouring waving him over to request one himself. Sitting up a little straighter, I was able to see Vera partially over the heads of those in front of us, watching her sway a little as she sang. I’m just surprised her voice sounds as good as it does, every ghoul we’ve met so far sounds like they’ve been gargling gravel. Then again, I can’t really expect near lethal doses of radiation to be any kinder to vocal cords than it is to other bits of flesh.

“When the world is free, come on and wait and see, when the world is free, you gotta wait and see!” Vera’s final note rung crisply through the hall, to be followed by several more cheers and applauds, the loudest of which coming from Night Strike. Vera took a small bow before stepping off stage, the pianist beginning to play some filler music as the curtains drew to a close. Night Strike immediately leapt up, pulling me along.

“Omigoshomigoshomigosh, I gotta get her autograph! Or, no, wait, we gotta convinve her to come back with us on the Valkyrie! But first the autograph! What do I have for her to autograph...” Night Strike exclaimed, her giddy expression worrying me somewhat. I glanced back to see Crash Dive shaking her head, Scouring looking back over his shoulder to watch Night Strike drag me over to the door leading backstage. Uh, I don’t think we’re allowed there… The door nearly fell off its hinges from the force of Night Strike blundering through it, interrupting a few ponies practicing a comedy skit and causing one to give off a less than flattering scream.

Before I could apologize, Night Strike yanked me forward again, dashing down the hallways towards the dressing rooms. The pegasus screeched to a halt in front of one of the doors, myself almost smacking into the wall from the sudden stop. She hopped up and down, beaming before taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Knocking with a shaky hoof, Night Strike said, “H-hello? Ms. Lynn?” There was a pause before a few hoofsteps could be heard and the doorknob turned, revealing Vera in her gown.

“Oh, hello. Is there something I could do for you?” Night Strike simply stood stalk still, her mouth slightly agape. I could almost see her brain trying to un-fry itself. She stammered for a moment before her hooves began to wobble, and she crumpled to the floor again. I sighed, Vera looking rather taken aback. Nice first impression, Strikey.

“Erm, yeah, sorry about her, she's a... bit of a fan.” I said to Vera after having dragged Night Strike into the dressing room and dumping her unceremoniously in a vacant chair. “Was just surprised to see you still around, I suppose. We're part of the Vanhoover Five, Night Strike's dad's gotten her a little obsessed with you... i-in a purely appreciative way, though! Eheh, um, well, anyways, that's basically the whole story, at least the bits that were left out of the radio broadcasts.” She took a seat in a small chair beside a table where a cup and pot of tea sat, steam rising slowly out of the porcelain mug. I leaned against the wall, letting off weak chuckles and looking down at Night Strike as she mumbled a little in her dazed state.

Vera released a small chuckle, before taking a sip of her tea. “I suppose I’m flattered by your friend’s excitement, I just wish it didn’t have to lead to her getting a few concussions.” Vera’s gaze switched back to me as she set down her cup, a warm smile upon her muzzle. “You’re from the Mooscow and Quebuck area, you mentioned on the radio? I had been intending on touring there at some point, this was before the bombs fell, of course,” she shifted in her seat a little, taking a cube of sugar from a nearby pot and dropping it into the tea, stirring it in with a spoon. “I believe somepony else had managed to buy out the concert hall there first, for the life of me I can’t remember who…”

My eyes widened a bit, somewhat surprised Vera knew of someplace further north than the Crystal Empire - seems like everypony else’s knowledge stops at Canterlot. “It wouldn’t have happened to have been Tom Neighrer that you had heard about?” Vera's eyes blunk for a moment before she nodded, taking a sip of her tea again. She then raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering how I knew about him. “Well, you probably won’t believe this, but he actually survived the war too. Though, uh, things didn’t really turn out the best for him… flesh-wise either. No offense.” There was an uncomfortable pause as I tried to search for something else to say. “Oh, but he’s actually back in show-biz, sort of. My dad and his friend brought him to some old Stable with some radio equipment, he helps the disk-jockey there and teaches math now, doesn't sound too much like a ghoul, either.”

Vera’s grin grew a little wider as she drew the cup away from her lips. “Well, apparently us musicians are Balefire proof. Of all the ponies to survive the war, I wouldn’t have guessed singers to have the best chances.” Night Strike stirred a little in her chair, but simply rolled her head over to the other side before falling silent again. I should probably actually wake her up soon. “Where in Equestria did he find somepony to help fix his throat, though? Can’t remember how many places I'd searched before I found one that could help. Even then, I still need this thing to keep me clear.” She gestured to a shiny gem-studded pendant hanging from her neck.

I shrugged. “As far as I know he never did, I never heard of him needing a spell like that. I mean, he is a unicorn himself, and it’s not like his songs are very taxing on his range, maybe he was able to enchant his bowtie or something and we just never noticed.” Night Strike groaned yet again, her eyelids fluttering as she sat up in the chair. She placed a hoof to her temple, shaking her head as she pulled herself together for the second time tonight. Chuckling and poking Night Strike playfully I quipped, “Nice of you to join us. Now try not to pass out in front of your idol again, alright?”

Night Strike froze yet again, staring at Vera. She glanced over to me, then back to Vera, her voice failing her. “Hello, Night Strike. Static’s told me you’re a rather big fan.” She gave an amused smile as Night Strike sat back in the chair. I rolled my eyes before taking a hold of a burned book sitting on a nearby bookshelf and searching through it for a not completely ruined page. I tore one out and handed it to Night Strike, nodding towards Vera. As if in a trance, Night Strike trotted over to her, clutching the sheet of paper in her hoof. Vera chuckled and took it from her, reaching over to a desk to grab a quill and ink well. “Why, I’d be happy to give you an autograph.” Magic flowed over the quill as Vera wrote a short note on the page before singing it elegantly.

She handed it back to Night Strike, who looked down at it for a moment, still dazed. “Now, I do hate to be rude to the both of you, but I do have another set coming up soon and I really ought to change my dress before it starts. Perhaps we could talk at a later time.” Vera smiled sincerely, helping me direct Night Strike to the door. It wasn’t until we had exited the changing room and the door shut behind us that Night Strike snapped out of her stupor, looking up from the paper.

“Wha... what just happened?” I shook my head and led her back to the table as she slipped the autographed page into her saddlebags. We found our way through the tables in the roundhouse and back towards the others. Scouring was taking a swig of whiskey while an empty bottle of Sparkle Cola sat in front of Aerith. Crash Dive stood up upon seeing us, and the others followed suit, Scouring placing a few caps onto the table as payment.

“We should find somewhere to sleep for the night. I doubt the mechanics are finished looking at the mini-tank already,” Crash Dive said. Night Strike gave a small groan of disappointment, looking back up to the stage where the pair of ponies backstage were now performing. “You can see your idol again tomorrow, assuming you don’t crack your skull open upon seeing her.” Night Strike’s ears flopped down and she grumbled a little, but followed us anyway. A harsh wind bit at our faces as we stepped out of the roundhouse into the train yard turned town.

Our hoofsteps were muffled by the freshly fallen snow, the storm having thankfully mostly blown over to be replaced with the occasional flakes and frosty gusts of wind. Trotting past the old station that served as town hall, we made our way towards one of the taller buildings standing at the edge of the train yard. A few of the windows glowed as lights inside flickered, our hooves making a path towards the front door. The knob stuck for a moment having been frozen by the storm, but after a few shoves, it popped open, allowing us to step into the warmth of the hotel lobby. I shook my mane free of stray snowflakes before stepping up to the desk.

I scanned the top of the counter for a bell to ring, the others standing around in the center of the room as they brushed the snow off of themselves. “Uh, hello?” I called out, leaning a little to try and glance through the cracked open door on the opposite side of the desk. There was a small snort and the sound of a chair scooting across the floor before a bleary-eyed pony trotted up to us, her mane slightly frazzled. She stood opposite me, swaying a little as she rubbed her eyes. Ok, this pony clearly isn’t a night-owl. “Uh, how much for two rooms?” I asked.

“Hun-eighdy ca…” She slurred, opening her mouth and yawning. I fished through my saddlebags for the caps before placing them on the counter. She turned around and took two keys off of a rack behind her and set them on the desk before scooping up my payment and trotting back into the office. Taking the keys and turning back to face the others, I tossed one to Night Strike. We climbed the steps to the second floor, the floor creaking slightly under our weight as we headed towards our rooms.

“Alright, see you guys in the morning.” Night Strike lifted a hoof up in acknowledgement and we split off into our rooms, the wind howling outside the windows. Scouring leaned Sunburst up against the bedside table and began to slip out of his power armor as I let my saddlebags fall to the floor, only to have the sound of somepony snoring in response. Ech, forgot there were probably ponies under us. I climbed into bed, the moon shimmering through the window, illuminating a few ponies stumbling out of the roundhouse. I sighed gently, rolling over in my bed to face away from the glass, closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.

---

Ponies dug away at the snow blocking the front door of the hotel as we trotted out, myself thankful for the slightly warmer weather as we walked towards the empty railcar house Mad Jack had parked in. A few other ponies were milling about in the train yard, trotting to and from shops and houses built out of abandoned railcars, a few ponies attempting to clear the snow off of some of the tracks. One pony carrying a flamer trotted up to the wheels of one of the larger engines frozen on to the tracks, his jacket clung tight to his back under the weight of the fuel tank. He twisted the end of the nozzle, a jet of flame shooting out as he began to slowly wave it along the rails, melting the ice that had accumulated during the storm.

We soon arrived at the railcar house, stepping through a smaller door beside the two large ones the tanks were driven through to find Mad Jack’s tank sitting beside our own half-track, a few ghouls snoring on some cots set up along the walls. “Uh, Jack? You in here?” Night Strike called out. She stepped up to the side of his tank and gave a few raps on the metal plating. No response came from the tank, though the sound of hoofsteps prompted us to turn and see a pony trotted towards us, his face and jumpsuit covered in oil stains.

“You looking for Jack? He’s already headed out with some of the others to help clear the tracks, probably won’t be back for a while.” He glanced over to the mini-tank. “This one yours, then? Jack said to expect you guys today when we were working on it. Nasty bit of work it took finding a good gasket that size.” I nodded and he grinned widely, sticking a hoof out to shake. “I’m Oil Slick, I help fix up some of the engines around here. At least, when they’re running, that is. Didn’t think I’d be fixing up the ride of the heroes of Vanhoover when I moved up here.” He chuckled a little to himself as I walked around the mini tank, flipping open the back hatch to admire the new parts.

“I got a few ideas working on that engine of yours, though. Used to work on boats down in Maple Creek, I’ve gotten pretty good at bringing up the horsepower of the little things.” I looked back up to Oil Slick, a grin starting to spread across my face. Oh, please tell me you did… “It wouldn’t be too hard to charge up the engine of yours, should help boost its speed quite a bit. At the very least you won’t blow a gasket carrying all that weight behind you again." The stallion let off a chuckle, myself and Night Strike joining him, albeit weakly - yeah, gonna guess these things were not built for hauling twice their weight all around the watseland. "I’d be happy to tune up the engine, if you help me out with one of my projects. Might even give you a discount on fixing up the gasket.” D’oh, stupid Static, you should always know there’s a catch.

Night Strike glanced over to me, the others wandering over to the wagon to pick up their weapons they’d left in it. I looked back down at the mini-tank, then back to Night Strike. Come on, Strikey, think of how much cooler it’d be to go blazing across the wastes on this thing! “What do you need?” Night Strike asked, caving in. Score one for me, finally! Oil Slick’s grin widened a little and he lead us back outside, Crash Dive slipping a few grenades onto her belt before following us out.

“Well, we’ve got a couple large engines that help keep this place powered and pump water for the town. Unfortunately, one of them broke down a week or two ago and the other's starting to show some strain too, and we don’t have any spare parts for them.” We came to a smaller shack, a low rumbling emanating from inside. Oil Slick pushed one of the large doors open, revealing the pair of massive engines. One was whirring along smoothly while a few mechanics milled about it, checking gauges and occasionally turning valves. Oil Slick shouted over the whir of the engine. “We’ve had to strip the worse one down to keep the other running smoothly, but if we don’t find replacement parts for it sooner or later, we’re going to have to start relying on traders for water, and not many make trips during the winter. A lot of ghouls here rely on electric heaters for warmth too, and we're barely breaking even on power running just the one.” He trotted up to a bookshelf, rifling through them before taking a binder off to hand to Night Strike.

“Here’s a diagram and list of some of the parts we'll need to get the other one back up. Most of it we can run without, but just to make her run we’re going to need a few of these pistons,” Oil Slick pointed to the schematics. “A few of the smaller arms, and one of the larger gears, here.” He began to lead us back out of the generator room, now heading towards another railcar house. Stepping through the small door, he fumbled for a moment before finding a light switch, the lights flickering on.

Sitting in the center of the building was a large rusted yellow railcar, just slightly longer than the mini-tank had been. Connected to the back was an old coal hopper, its paint peeling away after many years of neglect. “So, here’s the sticking point,” Oil Slick said, hopping over the tracks the car lay on and pulling a lever on the opposite side of the large doors. “The only place we know that’s got another engine like this is up at the old Basin Overlook Coal Mines, and those mines are crawling with Hellhounds now. These tracks should take you up to the entrance, but the engines are a bit further in past there.” Oil Slick turned back to us as the great metal doors began to open with a drawn out creak, straining against the icy hinges. “So… think you’re up to it?”

I looked back to the others, now a little hesitant. Hellhounds? No thanks, I choose life. Scouring looked equally nervous, and Crash’s expression was hidden behind her helmet, though I doubted she was any more eager to go along. Night Strike gave a confident smile and climbed up into the front of the engine, Aerith looking almost gleeful at the prospect. “Pffft, Static and I have taken down plenty of Hellhounds before, we’ll have those parts back before tonight.” Oil Slick looked thankful, if a little surprised at Night Strike’s coolness. I shook my head, but climbed onto the engine beside her as the others hopped into the empty coal hopper.

Night Strike fiddled with the controls for a moment, the engine rumbling to life as the headlights began to shine brightly. Easing forward on the lever, the railcar began to roll forward along the tracks and through the town. A few ponies stared as we rolled by, slowly picking up speed as we travelled past the roundhouse and towards a large mountain outside of town. The wheels clattered smoothly along the tracks while the ground began to incline, Night Strike pushing the lever forward a bit more to keep our speed up as we scaled the base of the mountain. We turned into a switchback, passing by a large sign. The old warnings beneath ‘Basin Overlook Coal Mine’ had been painted over to simply read, ‘Hellhounds, Enter at Own Risk’. Well, that’s reassuring.

The air grew dryer as the train slowly climbed the mountains, snow starting to block the tracks somewhat. Hopefully it doesn’t get too deep, we should’ve brought along a flamethrower. Rocks rose up on either side of us, creating a narrow passageway through the mountain, the track curving to begin spiraling upwards. The boulders piled higher, soon forming a solid arch over us and leading us into a cave. The headlights illuminated the tracks as the sunlight faded away behind us. There was no sound, save for the clacking of the car wheels on the track and the occasional drip as water seeped down from above and fell into small pools below us.

I peered off beyond the edge of the headlight’s gaze, but nothing could be seen in the inky blackness. I flinched a little as the sound of something roaring echoed faintly through the caverns. Night Strike looked over to me, her expression a little worried. “Let’s just hope the Hellhounds haven’t managed to dig tunnels through here.” I muttered as we continued along. The tracks straightened out and the incline began to increase a little, prompting me to push the lever forward a bit more. The railcar strained beneath us slightly, but continued to move upwards, daylight soon reaching us through the opposite mouth of the tunnel.

Blinking as my eyes readjusted to the light, I stared ahead to the see the end of the track culminating in a small turntable. Night Strike slowed the traincar as the tracks leveled out, allowing us to roll smoothly onto the rotary table. The car jerked to a halt on the table, a few lights around the edge beginning to flash. Gears ground loudly against one another as the old track turned, reorienting us to face back down the mountain. Convenient. I hopped out of the car as the others did the same, looking around. The ground fell away quickly on one side of the tracks, showing off the sweeping landscape below us. The lake below glimmered in the sunlight, the silhouette of Hopeville just barely visible at the edge.

I gazed over the edge, my stomach clenching a little before I quickly stumbled backwards, bumping into the coal cart. Y-yeah, let’s not do that again, Static. Looking over my shoulder, I turned and followed Crash Dive as she walked slowly towards the mouth of another cave, more rusted over tracks leading in. She flicked on her headlamp, the beam cutting into the darkness of the mines. Scouring and Aerith’s horns lit up as well, a small aura of light surrounding us.

Rocks clacked and crunched beneath our hooves as we followed the tracks deeper into the mine, a few tunnels branching off from the main passageway. “You know, it probably would’ve helped if he said how far exactly down this engine was supposed to be.” Night Strike said. I nodded, still thankful we hadn’t stumbled across any Hellhounds yet. The tunnel we were in soon opened up into a larger room, Crash Dive’s light illuminating a large machine in front of us. We slowly stepped up to it, Night Strike consulting the binder Oil Slick had given us. “Well, this looks like it. Think we should try and strip what we can, take as many parts back as possible.”

Aerith’s horn glowed a little bit brighter, Night Strike handing over the schematics for her to look at. Parts on the machine began to glow, screws undoing themselves as the small arms flew off, the pistons starting to become undone. A low rumble echoed through the caves, Aerith’s magic freezing as Crash pointed her light in the direction of it. We all stood still, and soon Aerith began to quickly undo the cylinders to retrieve the pistons, dropping the arms onto my back to carry. Huff, okay, they looked a lot lighter back at Maple Station... Okay, deep breath, just the gear left. There was a sudden snap, the rusted metal bolts giving way. Before Aerith’s magic could encompass the gear, it fell against the metal body of the engine, the clang reverberating through the caves, only to be followed by several more as the gear toppled onto its side.

A loud roar could be heard coming from one of the tunnels, swiftly joined up by several others. Oh, fuck, we’re so screwed. Aerith heaved up the gear, straining to levitate it as Scouring took the large pistons in his own magic. “Come on, let’s move it!” Crash Dive shouted, starting to sprint back along the tracks towards the exit. We all sprinted after her, the arms clattering around on my back as we raced through the dark tunnel. The sound of pounding feet and whirring metal was slowly growing louder behind us, the light of the exit nothing more than a pinprick. Night Strike began to flap her wings, whipping out Thumper as she rolled in the air to face behind us. She fired off a grenade, the projectile arcing in the air before landing short, but the Hellhounds were gaining fast.

She loaded another grenade, glancing over her shoulder to avoid a rock jutting down from the ceiling before firing again. This time the roars were coupled by a few whimpers of pain, and I dared a glance back. A Hellhound was barreling after us, its claws raking the rocky floor as the various mechanical augmentations grafted into its body whirred and spun. A few others could be heard behind it and I turned my head back towards the entrance, my eyes burning a bit as we ran out into the bright sunlight. Night Strike landed at the controls of the railcar, firing off another grenade at the Hellhound as I leapt into the coal car, the engine arms rolling off my back. Night Strike slammed the lever forward as Aerith and Scouring piled in on top of me, the engine parts clanking against each other as they dropped them into the cart. The railcar shuddered as it began to roll forwards, Crash Dive pushing the car to get it rolling faster. Come on, move you damn machine!

I climbed out of the coal hopper and jumped to the engine, Aerith levitating up her Chicacolt Typewriter and letting off a stream of bullets at the Hellhound leading the pack. It cried out in pain, stumbling to the side, only to be replaced by another. I bent down, flipping open a panel to reveal the inner workings of the railcar. Gears spun and I reached in, taking a hold of a small lever. Oh, please don’t let this be a stupid decision. I tugged on the lever, metal shifting around inside as the governor on the small motor was released.

The railcar began to roll forward much faster, the engine no longer holding back as we powered down the rail line. Gravity began to take over, and Crash Dive clambered into the hopper as Scouring fired off a rocket at the pack of Hellhounds, the railcar picking up speed fast as we rolled down the mountain. Night Strike shot off a grenade at the chasing Hellhounds as Crash Dive tossed a few of her own. The resulting explosion knocked one of the Hellhounds off of the mountain, sending it careening over the cliffs and onto the rocks below.

Night Strike slammed into me as we rounded a corner, the wheels clattering loudly as we sped down the mountain. My vision was suddenly filled with blackness as we entered the tunnel, nothing to illuminate the chasing Hellhounds except Crash Dive’s headlamp and the flashes of light from the grenades exploding. I looked forwards, the light attached to the front of the railcar shaking violently with each railway tie we passed over. Aerith let out a few more bursts from her gun, the muzzle flashes lighting up the cave somewhat and allowing Scouring to get a better shot with Sunburst.

Sparks flew from the wheels as we sped around another corner, the light from the other end of the tunnel quickly overtaking us as we raced down into the narrow ravine. The few remaining Hellhounds were forced into a single file line, the rocks on either side of us scraping at their large bodies. One smashed into the rocky wall, starting to dig through in an attempt to get ahead of us. Crash Dive chucked another grenade at the few still in pursuit, managing to blow the arm off one of them. It fell onto the tracks, the Hellhound behind it tripping over it and landing with a thud onto the tracks, only to receive a rocket to the face from Scouring. The wall beside us suddenly burst open, a Hellhound jumping out onto the tracks in front of us. The railcar smashed into it, the beast giving a deafening roar as it slowed the railcar.

Scouring raised up Sunburst and fired into the maw of the Hellhound. Its head exploded into a shower of guts and metal, body slumping to the ground, leaving myself and Night Strike spattered with blood. We both sat silently for a moment, myself catching my breath from the fight as Crash Dive cut the throttle and hammered on the brakes, the small train slowing to a much slower speed, us all breathing heavily. I slumped against the side of the engine on the railcar, looking to the panel from earlier and flipping the lever back in place, before letting myself collapse fully.

“Never… again…”

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