It didn’t take long after Night Strike went back to check up on the generator for the bulbs to flicker back on again, creating circles of lights under the lamps every few meters. When she returned, Crash Dive set a few tin plates onto a small table in the corner, carefully pouring out the can of beans that had been heating on a hotplate into them. Night Strike and I slid into the chairs at the table, pulling the plates towards us and beginning to eat. My stomach quieted down as I swallowed the beans. We each quickly finished up our plates, Crash Dive pouring out another can she’d set on the hotplate.

After we’d eaten our dinner, I stacked up the plates and tossed them in a rusty sink. I trotted back to the table where Crash had pulled out a deck of cards, shuffling them. “You two up for a few rounds of poker?” She asked. I nodded and sat down as she began to deal the cards. “Twenty cap limit, I don’t want to go broke.” I dug around in my saddlebag and produced my satchel of caps, lying a few down onto the table as Night Strike and Crash did the same. I stared down at the cards I was given, looking down at the three that had been laid in the center next to the small pile of caps.

A few rounds of cards later and my cap bag was slightly heavier, Crash cursing as Night Strike and I pocked our winnings. She scooped up the cards and slid them back into her saddlebags before glancing through one of the windows of the hut. “Alright, we better head off to bed, we’ll want as much time to search around this place as we can get tomorrow.” She trotted over to the door, grabbing onto the end of a bed nearby. She dragged it in front of the door before tossing some heavy junk onto it to ensure it wouldn’t budge.

I lay down onto the bed, thankful I had one of Crash Dive’s bedrolls as a barrier between me and the dirty mattress. Good thing it’s not frigid down here, sleeping without covers back in Mooscow generally resulted in a pony-cicle - thank the goddesses my dad is a seamster. The lights flickered off, and Crash rolled onto one of the mattresses, the only light now coming from the moon streaming through the windows. I curled up a little, tucking my tail between my legs as I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.

---

I awoke to the sound of scratching and pounding at the door - ooh, that doesn't sound fun. Climbing out of bed, I tried to spot what was on the other side of the door through the dirty and cracked windows, but none of them gave a clear view to the front of the building. Crash Dive and Night Strike were both up soon too, Night Strike flying up to the air vent at the top of the half-pipe structure, but couldn’t manage to see what was outside. The power-armored pegasus grumbled, seeming thoroughly irritated as she pulled a plasma grenade out of a box on her armor. She scooted under the bed in front of the door, pulling the pin and shoving the grenade through a small mail flap near the bottom. She stepped away as the scratching stopped, the air silent for a moment before a loud explosion rang through the hut, the door shaking violently on its hinges as it pushed the bed away slightly.

We waited for a moment, but no other sound could be heard. “Alright, well, that was an annoying wake-up call, but we’re up. Roll up the beds, you two, I’ve got a box of oats we can eat before we set off.” She dug around in her saddlebags before tossing a box of oats to us. As we rolled up the mats and took a few mouthfuls of oats, Crash Dive pushed the bed out of the way of the door, revealing a trail of glowing goo seeping through the bottom crack. Well, whatever that was out there definitely isn’t a solid mass anymore.

We all hitched up our saddlebags, Crash Dive grabbing a bit of oats for herself before heading out of the bunker. We stepped around the puddle of warm goo in front of us, heading along the row of bunk houses set behind the main facility. “Jericho Beach is a pretty old supply depot, even by pre-war standards. There shouldn’t be any security systems still online.” Crash Dive said. Nevertheless, I made sure I could easily reach my umbrella in case we stumbled into another one of those mutated bloatflies. Well, more mutated than the ones back home, anyways. No security systems work both ways, if that thing that woke us up this morning means anything...

We first headed towards the docks, several discarded crates of cargo laying on the piers and at the water’s edge. I opened the door to one of the small shacks nearby, rummaging around inside the office. “Find anything?” Night Strike asked, poking her head to see what I was up to. I stood up from digging around in one of the filing cabinets, holding up a couple bottles of Sunrise Sarsaparilla.

“Just some centuries old soda. Want one?” I offered the bottle to her, her response being to pull a look of disgust in return. I shrugged, pocketing one and popping the cap off the other. “Oh, come on, Night Strike. There’s brand loyalty and then there’s just plain insanity.” Answering me with a sigh and shake of her head, Night Strike turned and trotted after Crash Dive, heading towards the ends of the docks.

“I thought we established long ago the fact that I’m crazy.” Night Strike and I stopped at the edge of the dock, peering down into the water. I could barely make out the shape of a sunken boat in the murky water. “Hey, didn’t Ripple need some boat parts? You’re a good swimmer, right Static?” Shooting her a glare, the pegasus wore a smirk.

“You throw me in and I’ll shove this umbrella so far up your ass you’ll be spitting sparks.” Night Strike chuckled as I took another sip of soda, Crash Dive turning around and heading back up the dock. “The engine’s probably in horrid condition anyway. Who knows how long it’s been sitting there.” We followed the power armored mare as she made her towards the largest building, the door squeaking on its hinges as it opened.

Inside the building was a small lobby, a circular receptionist desk placed in the center. Night Strike trotted up to the terminal on the desk, flipping a switch as it began to boot up. The screen flickered, showing a few interdepartmental memos and appointment bookings, but no sort of shipping details that might point out where to find some parts. “Aw, oh well, I guess we’re just gonna have to scour every bit of this place.” Night Strike said, trying to put on an air of disappointment. Yes, Strikey, I totally believe you’re saddened we have to wander aimlessly through a pre-war military base.

We trotted though the lobby, heading towards a large set of stairs on the opposite end of a long hallway. We passed by a large office, glancing in to see a skeleton in a heavily torn military uniform laying on the floor beside the desk. I grimaced as we began to make our way downstairs, occasionally needing to hop down some broken steps. “So, did the Enclave have direct control over a lot of these bases? Or was that more for the Ministries?” I asked as we descended.

“Most all military bases were under the control of the Equestrian Armed Forces, the Grand Pegasus Enclave being a part of them back then. After the bombs wiped out Cloudsdale, we broke off from Equestria fully... the Lightbringer brought us back.” She adjusted the large gun on her back as we heard a soft chittering emanate from behind the bottom floor door. Pausing for a moment, Crash Dive swung the door open, rearing onto her hind legs. Her front hooves came down hard onto a large cockroach, the exoskeleton crunching as she crushed it. “I figured searching an old supply depot would be smarter before we head to places with actual security. Besides, this was the closest one to the lighthouse.”

“At least tell me this place supplied and held megaspell warheads, right?” Night Strike asked, looking a little hopeful. Crash Dive thought for a moment, then shook her head, wiping some bug guts from her metal hooves. Night Strike’s ears flopped down as she stared at the floor, muttering to herself. “Stupid no-megaspell-military base...” I rolled my eyes as we trotted into a large computer room. Panels covered in switches, dials, and gauges lined the walls, a large window at the far end revealing an empty room full of large machines and broken crates. I examined some of the panels on the walls as Night Strike and Crash trotted over to the main console. “So, how exactly are we supposed to get a generator back up to the surface from here?”

“We can dismantle it and carry it out that way, I’ll be able to rebuild it back at my house.” Crash responded. I grimaced a little, doubtful that Crash would take advantage of her suit’s strength boosting servos in favor of dumping the metal on me. “Come on, there should be a generator somewhere inside the actual storage area.” She headed through a door, trotting down a few more steps before beginning to wander the large warehouse floor.

Night Strike and I spread out, glancing around for some sort of power source. The floor of the empty warehouse reminded me quite a bit of the RobronCo facility back North, though many of the machines here looked like they were made for sorting big shipping crates rather than manufacturing robots and electronics. Sheesh, I hope Night Strike doesn’t try and lug home a mortar to strap to the Valkyrie or something. I began to follow the wires connected to the machines in hopes of them leading to the generator, but they simply twisted around each other, heading in seemingly random directions.

“Hey, I found the generator! But, uh, I don’t think it’s in very good condition...” Night Strike called. She was standing at a small door tucked away in the corner, her pip-buck light shining on it. Crash and I trotted up and followed her into the small room, finding a large dusty generator sitting in front of us. ‘Not in good condition’ was an understatement. The gears and bearings were interlocked with years of accumulating rust, several other parts looking like they would fall off if somepony sneezed too hard next to them. Crash blew out of her mouth exasperatedly, walking around the generator to view it from all angles.

“I don’t think this thing could power a laser pistol, let alone power those repair talismans enough to fix up the plane in a sensible timespan.” She bent over the back, the sound of metal being brushed aside filling the air. “Ugh, looks like it’s a hydroelectric turbine too. Could be running off of the river to Maple Creek.” She stood back up, wiping her now greasy hooves onto an old mop leaning against the wall. “Even if we could fix this up, there’s no good place to set it up near my lighthouse for power. We’ll need one of those newer portable arcane reactors.”

“Ah, what about that reactor back at the bunk house? You got that working, would that be powerful enough?” Night Strike answered me with a shake of the head, as we began to trot back out of the facility.

“That little thing? In the condition it was in, we were lucky it didn't blow up last night while we were sleeping. Besides, it was corroded to it's base, probably would just damage it further trying to take it out.” Well, thanks for letting us all know that there was a time bomb just outside the building we were sleeping in, Night Strike! We reached the steps and began to work our way back upstairs, the gaps in the steps much more of an issue now. “We’ll want something with a lot of kick anyway, if we want the Valkyrie up and running within a few days. Even running at full power, in good condition, that puny thing’d probably take a year.”

We were soon stepping back out into the sunlight, pausing outside the door as Strike and I checked our maps. “Next closest base is Seahoof Armory. No way we’re going to get there in a day, though... It looks like there’s a little town partway there. We can probably make that, stop there before heading down. Just need to follow the shoreline east.” Crash nodded and we began to make our way along the edge of the lake, the water almost perfectly still from the lack of wind.

“So, this place must not have gotten hit very hard during the war, with all the stuff still living here, right? I mean, even with that thing getting set off by the Lightbringer, this place is pretty intact for being a military depot. How the heck did it avoid at least a little bombardment?” I kicked a rock into the water, watching the ripples travel along the surface as we made our way along the water's edge.

“Vanhoover wasn’t a large priority target to begin with, the zebras were more worried about targeting megaspell installations than the manufacturing plants and supply depots around here, I think.” We trotted along for a moment, myself glancing over my shoulder as I thought I heard a low buzzing. “There was supposed to be a base somewhere nearby that was made to house some kind of bigger, more potent missiles. Could just as well be a story my SOs came up with to scare new recruits into not touching pre-war stuff.”

As we continued along the coast, the sun was beginning to fall low in the sky, and Crash Dive looked over to Night Strike. “How much further along is this town?” The dark blue pegasus stopped and checked her Pip-Buck, scrolling long from our location to the small town. She frowned a bit, as she double checked the distance, her expression growing a little worse by the second.

“Uh… well, I guess it’s a little further than I thought.” She chuckled nervously. Crash didn’t look amused. “W-well, there’s something not too much further from here, along a major road, I think.” She looked up from her Pip-Buck, staring into the distance in the direction the little pointer on her map indicated. Peering for a moment, she double-checked, setting her hoof back against the ground. “Yeah, there’s something there, a road stop or something.” She pointed towards a small shack sitting a little further away from the edge of the water.

Crash Dive let off a grunt, and we began to make our way towards the small building in the distance. We were soon following a road along the coast that passed by the building, which we could now recognize as a cart maintenance stop in the dimming light. We stepped into the building, Night Strike lighting a small electric lamp sitting next to the cash register. Crash Dive turned and began to push one of the large displays in front of the door, causing me to grimace from the sound of it scraping across the floor.

“Alright, that should keep any big stuff out. I’d still sleep close to your gun if I were you, though.” I dropped the sleeping rolls onto the floor, unfurling them between the shelves. Crash Dive set herself up behind the main counter, though not until I was finished digging around beneath the counter for some spare caps. She shot me a glare as I came back out, carefully making my way around her as she settled in the corner.

I trotted back over to my bedroll, Night Strike grinning and popping open a bottle of regular sparkle-cola. Jeez, you’re going to be up all night drinking that. “Bluh, hopefully we actually get to find some better stuff at Seahoof Armory. I really wanted to use Thumper on something...” I answered her with a roll my eyes, as Night Strike flipped on her radio.

“And that concludes the adventures of DASH-E, the Supreme Spritebot! Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion!” Huh, I don’t think I would’ve guessed KAOS to host radio shows. “And now the news, for all you ponies who aren’t being sent off to bed now. We’ve got a few reports in from Maple Station that their rail mechanics have finally managed to gather the parts together to repair the northern express, but bad weather may cause further delays for all of you ghoulish types looking for passage north. You held out against all the fury of an entire nation, I'm sure you lads and dames taking refuge up there can hold out for a while longer where you are."

There was a shuffling sound behind us, a metal-clad hoof tapping against the counter. “If you don’t turn that off, you two are sleeping outside tonight.” Crash growled. Night Strike let off a weak chuckle, fiddling with her pip-buck for a few moments before she finally turned off the radio, leaving us in silence. We lay down on the bedrolls, Night Strike shuffling something out of her saddlebags and pulling it close to her chest. I sighed, staring at a pile of dust-covered toy trucks as I drifted off to sleep.

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