I snorted awake at the sound of a pan smacking down onto the table, my mane frazzled and my back stiff. Giving my head a shake, I rubbed my eyes as Crash Dive’s kitchen came into focus once again, a large stack of pancakes steaming on a pan in the center of the table. “Glad you could join us.” Night Strike chuckled as I twisted in the chair, my spine cracking. Aerith levitated a few of the pancakes onto her place, Scouring doing the same. I slid over an empty plate as Crash Dive flipped the oven off and began to rinse off another pan. Night Strike drizzled some syrup over her pancakes as I stabbed some off of the stack in the middle.

“So, uh, what’ve we got planned for today?” I asked, still trying to wake up. Crash Dive slid into the seat across from me, back inside her large suit of power armor. I shuddered inwardly at the thought of her disfigured wings, trying not to display my lack of comfort. I began to slowly eat my pancakes as Scouring chased down his mouthful with a swig of some strong smelling whiskey.

“Js plsshnn n gnin t’ gsh mshynon.” Night Strike tried to say around her pancakes. All of us raised our eyebrows, the dark-blue pegasus lifting a hoof and chewing a few more times, swallowing down the dough. “Just planning on getting our money for the guns back in Maple Creek, before we try looking somewhere else for a generator again.” She went back to wolfing down her breakfast.

Chewing on the fluffy pastry, I gave a moment of thought. “I think we really ought to just head down to Vanhoover at this point. Haven’t we pretty much searched all the other military bases around here? I’d rather just drop most of the caps we just got onto a new generator at this point.” I leaned my head onto one of my hooves. “It’s not exactly like we can fool ourselves into thinking this whole thing is still somewhat covert, anyway.”

Crash Dive tilted her head left and right a little, grimacing slightly. “I suppose that’s true. I’d rather not get even more involved with the towns more than we already have though, if we can help it. First the slavers, then everypony in Hopeville… I just hope whoever has those planes isn’t an avid radio listener.” We continued to eat in silence, aside from the occasional clink of cutlery. “Not to mention wherever that robot... dragon… thing… came from.” She looked, her face pulled into a look of half confusion, half denial. “Are you sure you didn’t just stumble across some hallucinogenic weapons or something somepony left lying around back at the base?”

“I thought we agreed that didn’t happen.” I said, giving my head a small shake. Aerith chuckled a little as Scouring took another drink of whiskey at the mention of the dragon. We soon placed our dishes back into the sink and began to gather up our things to head out. I followed Night Strike into her room to gather up my saddlebags as she slipped her large duffel bag onto her back, loading Thumper with a fresh shell.

We trotted out to the small tank, myself climbing into the driver’s seat yet again as Night Strike hopped onto the back, letting off a small whine of frustration. “Am I ever going to get a chance to actually drive this thing?” She asked as the others exited the small cabin connected to the Lighthouse, myself looking back at her. Scouring and Aerith climbed into the trailer as Crash Dive sat beside Night Strike on the back, steadying her harpoon cannon.

“I thought you’d prefer to be the one firing Boomer, you can’t exactly do both.” I said, smirking. Night Strike rolled her eyes as the engine rumbled to life beneath us. The mini tank began to slowly roll forwards, the low tide lapping lazily at the bottom of the cliffs. I leaned back into the seat, the leathery material sticking to my coat slightly. Night Strike fiddled with her Pip-Buck for a moment, a crackle of static preceding the voice of the radio announcer filling the air.

“Good morning, all you beautiful ponies and still probably beautiful to some, not that I'm one to judge. This is Radio KAOS, and we’re here to give you the morning news today. There haven’t been any new sightings of the mysterious flying machines from Saddlebrook, leaving a few ponies relieved, though still anxious to build up their defenses.” I turned down the path towards Maple Creek, Aerith taking a potshot at a small radroach crawling out of the brush. “Up at Maple Station, there’s been a bit of an uproar due to the beloved Ivory Keys retiring. The owners of the Stiff Drink are searching for any new talent to help keep the customers entertained. And speaking of entertainment, here’s a little song to help wake you all up.” There was the sound of a record scratch before a faint crackling filled the airwaves.

"One, two, three o’clock, four o’clock rock
Five, six, seven o’clock, eight o’clock rock
Nine, ten, eleven o’clock, twelve o’clock rock
We’re gonna rock around the clock tonight!"

---

I pulled up beside the small town hall, switching off the engine as we all climbed out. A couple newsponies stood at the door with large cameras hanging around their necks and quills poised over notebooks. Sheesh, we could really do without all the publicity... Scouring Charge knocked on the oak doors, which creaked as they opened to reveal the mayor sitting at a small desk with Sulfur standing beside her. “It’s good to see you here again. Sulfur and I were just validating the price for the guns. 500,000 caps, correct? We just want to be sure you get the correct amount returned.”

I nodded, the news ponies stepping into the room with us. I gave a feigned look of pain. “You hurt me, ma’am. I may be a tough salespony, but I’m no crook.” The mayor grimaced a little, clearly not in the mood for jokes - the way Sulfur rubbed a hoof against her head at hearing that number again, I couldn't blame her. I coughed a little, regaining my composure. “Uh, right, anyway, yeah, that’s what we said. We’re willing to take any supplies if you don’t have enough caps, though.”

Sulfur trotted over to a couple large crates in the corner, wearing a weak smile. “We’ve actually already got that taken care of. This should cover just about everything.” She opened up the top crate, revealing boxes of low caliber ammunition and several bottles of a faintly glowing red potion. “If there’s anything else you need, we can stop back by my shop.” Sulfur said as Scouring and Aerith lifted up the large metal trunks with their magic. The unicorn mare followed us back out to the mini-tank as one of the newsponies tried to step up and start rattling off questions, only for Crash Dive to push him back and shoot him a glare, his motor of a mouth choking up.

We secured the few trunks to the trailer as Sulfur looked over the miniaturized half-tank. “Where in Equestria did you get this, anyway? Strangest damn thing I've ever seen...” She asked in awe, bending down to get a closer look at the inner workings of the gears on the treads. She fiddled a little with one of the running wheels before standing herself back up, pausing to think for a moment. “I used to know a pretty good mechanic, used to work with the boats, but he moved away a couple years ago. If I can find him again, I’ll let you know, he’ll probably be able to help with any repairs you'd need, maybe bring up the horsepower of that engine a few notches, too.” I grinned widely, giving off a slightly stupid giggle at the thought of tearing across the wasteland in this thing - already is a hell of a lot faster than that old TOG, probably could give Rolling Tracks and War Mare a run for their money too. Oh, now there's an idea, charging people to races...

I came back to my senses when Night Strike gave me a light whap on my head, smirking a little. Oh, like you’ve never been giddy at the prospect of going overboard. “Hopefully you’ll be able to get in contact with him soon, then. Thanks gain for the supplies!” I called as we began to speed out of town, the small engine roaring behind me. Sulfur waved as we departed, the two trunks bouncing in the trailer a little as I turned and began to head south.

---

“Sheesh, aren’t there any good roads to Vanhoover from here?” Night Strike asked, steadying herself as we rolled across the rough terrain. Crash Dive shook her head, leaning against Boomer as I turned, starting to drive over towards a small grassy hill coming into view on the horizon. Water splashed up on our sides as I drove through a small creek flowing down towards the coastline.

“Just keep inland, I don’t want to go charging through those forests again.” Crash Dive said, looking westward. I nodded, doing my best to stay away from the coastal tree line while maneuvering the rocky ground. Scouring Charge leaned against the crates in the trailer, pulling out a small cube of salt and popping it into his mouth to suck on.

We were soon cresting over the top of the hill, the ground beginning to slowly slope downwards as we traveled parallel to the coast. The sun rose higher in the sky as I drove across the fields, the chill of the air blowing in my mane faintly reminding myself of home. Well, this place is at least a more bearable temperature... One of Aerith's magic screens popped into view out of the corner of my eye. 'Anything we should know about Vanhoover, before we head in?' Crash Dive thought for a moment as I turned to avoid a large ditch, everyone holding on as the cart and tank rattled slightly. The ground began to slope upwards again, the cliffs turning inwards.

“Probably won’t be going into Vanhoover proper, that place is almost as bad as an opened reactor with how much it glows still. High-priority target during the war, or something. The rivers around Vanhoover would let some boats in and out, but I don’t know how many ponies have been willing to try going any further out than local fishing spots.” We approached the top of the hill, the land curving steadily more flat. “Just try not to draw any more attention to yourselves than you already have. There are a lot more ponies here than anywhere else we've been, and I'm willing to bet they aren't going to be as nice.” I began to slow as we reached the top of another hill, the land then falling away again to reveal a large city below us.

The city rested atop a large patch of land, disconnected from the mainland by the river flowing from the Vanhoover Reservior splitting into two wide branches, flowing out towards the ocean. The edges of the island were dotted by small buildings, a few boats resting at docks in the river. As my gaze moved towards the center of the island, the buildings grew slightly taller and fancier, until they abruptly met with the edge of a large crater on the opposite side. The hole fell away into such deep blackness, it almost looked as if it had been dug out to the center of the earth, had it not been for the sickly green glow emanating from the large pool of water in the center. How in Equestria did these ponies manage to live to close to such a radioactive sinkhole like this?

The tank slowly rolled along the hill as I drove us around towards the inland section of the island where a few bridges still spanned the rivers. As I approached, I could make out a few ponies standing on either side of the first bridge we came to, both wielding large shotguns on saddles. Both of them had their guns aimed at us as I drove up, causing me to slam on the brakes and knock the others around a bit. “State your business.”

“Uh… we were looking to buy some manufacturing parts. We’re running delivery for the gunsmith up in Hopeville.” I said, wishing the two guards would put their weapons back down and buy the story. One trotted up to the trailer, flipping over the tarp to reveal the large trunks and the remaining guns. The guard waved the other one over, whose horn began to glow as one of the trunks was levitated out of the trailer. “Hey, what’re-” I was cut off as one of the guards swiftly pointed his shotgun at me. Okay, lesson learned, let these guys do what they want if I want to keep my head.

The guards opened the trunk, rifling through the ammunition and potions. They muttered a little to each other, but eventually placed the trunk back inside the trailer. “Alright, you’re free to go in.” They trotted back to their posts and I twisted the handle, driving over the stone bridge into the town. Small houses lined the street as we headed in, a few ponies turning their heads to watch us drive by. I turned a corner, trying to locate any sort of sign pointing towards anywhere that might be considered 'industrial'.

I stopped with a jerk as a few ponies trotted out in front of the mini-tank, carrying a large crate of a foul smelling collection of fish, a few still flopping about in the box. I cringed a little as they passed, but managed to keep myself from gagging before we sped back off down the roads. As I drove further through the town, we came to a break in the buildings, the river curving in with several docks and boats sitting at the edge of the water.

I slowed and stopped the tank, looking over at all the ponies milling about, examining their boats, loading and unloading cargo, along with a few shooing away a few oversized crabs that were attempting to steal their day’s catch. “Oi, grey coat!” Night Strike called out. One of the ponies looked back towards us, pausing in his attempts to scrub off things from the side of a large boat. “You know where we might find the machine shops around here? Any large manufacturers or something?”

The pony leaned against one of the dock’s posts. “Yeah, head away from the docks and turn right around Stone street, there’s a general store there. If you’re looking for work, though, there’s the Flint and Steel Shipping Company. They make a lot of the boats around here, a few carts and stuff too, if you’re good with your hooves.” He returned to cleaning the boat and I spun the tank around, heading back towards the center of town.

We soon came up to a road lined with old buildings, a few shops having put up large planks of wood over their shattered storefront windows. I followed a few ponies trotting down the cobblestone path, looking around for the shops mentioned by the sailor. I slowed to a stop outside a large warehouse, a beaten sign hanging above the door reading “Flint and Steel Shipping Co. No Finer Ships in the Wastes”. We all climbed out of the tank and trotted up the short flight of steps into the building.

A bell rang above our heads as the door swung open into a small office with a few ponies sitting at cluttered desks. One looked up as we entered, her eyes going a little wide at the sight of all of us. I trotted over to her, Scouring scanning the room behind the visor of his helmet, Night Strike and Aerith both seeming a little uneasy, and Crash Dive... being Crash Dive. “Hello, we were wondering if you happen to have a generator for sale. We heard you do a lot of manufacturing, maybe you could build one for us, if you don't?”

The secretary raised an eyebrow. “Erm, well, I could call down one of our engineers, but I don’t think they’re going to be too willing to give up one of the few working generators we have.” She spun in her chair and picked up her phone, punching in a few numbers as she leaned back into it. We stood in silence as she tapped a hoof on the desk impatiently. “Smokey? Yeah, I’ve got some ponies here that want to buy a generator. Yes, I’m serious.” She turned to face us, looking us over. “An earth pony, a pegasus, a couple ponies in power armor and an alicorn.” She put a hoof to her forehead. “No, this is not a prank ca- Yes, I’m perfectly- Look, just get down here alright?” She hung up the phone, sighing and rubbing her temples a little.

The door behind the two desks swung open, a large dark-grey stallion stepping out, brushing his tar-black mane out of his eyes. He paused upon seeing our group, his pupils shrinking a little before glancing over to the secretary, who gave him an exasperated look. The stallion quickly shifted to a more professional stance, though he still looked rather surprised - honestly, I don't blame him. “So, uh, you five looking for a generator?” He asked. I nodded and he turned back around, leading us through the doors.

We stepped out into a large factory floor, a few ponies trotting back and forth with large pieces of metal and wood on small railcarts between them. The framework of a boat sat upon a large mess of metal beams and walkways, ponies working to fix the pieces of metal together to form the outer hull of the boat. Smokey led us over to several large machines chugging away, one unicorn standing by with a clipboard and making minor adjustments to a few of them. “Well, here’s what we’ve got. Should power just about any large machines you might have, damn thing's a bigger workhorse than me.”

I looked at the machines that stood at least three times my height, and better resembled the reactor back in EQUAD. “Um… you don’t happen to have anything… smaller, do you? More portable, maybe not bolted to the ground?” Smokey looked down at me, clearly not very happy. I recoiled a little, only now really noticing how much larger he was than me - just about Featherweight-sized, now I think of it. “Well, uh, the gunsmith we’re getting it for doesn’t exactly have a warehouse, and we don’t really have any way of moving it other than our cart.”

Smokey sighed and shook his head. “No, this is all we’ve got. If you need a generator, why aren’t you looking around places like the old military bases? I’m sure they probably had a couple for emergencies.” Believe me, we're pretty sure they don’t. I thanked him and we all turned to head back out into the lobby, the doors swinging shut behind us. As we trotted out into the street again, though, we spotted a few ponies digging around in our trailer, one fiddling with the controls of the tank.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Night Strike yelled, the ponies all looking up at us. One let off a quick curse, twisting the ignition and speeding down the street. Oh, fuck, why didn’t that thing have keys?! We raced after the ponies, several pedestrians leaping out of the way of the speeding mini-tank. One of the ponies in the trailer picked up one of the steampipe guns, firing it unsteadily from the back of the trailer. Aerith leapt out of the fire, her horn flaring up as she shot a few balls of arcane energy at them. One managed to strike the pony firing off the gun, knocking him out of the trailer, the gun falling out of the back. Scouring Charge levitated up the gun as he ran past it, firing off a few errant shots with it, the pedestrians all taking to find whatever cover they could. The pegasus in the driver’s seat ducked to avoid the fire, the other pony in the trailer picking up Aerith’s hunting rifle. He fired off a shot, just barely missing Night Strike’s hooves as the driver wheeled around a corner, the trailer smashing into an old signpost before speeding along down the street.

We followed the tank, my breath becoming ragged as my heart raced. A few more blasts of magic flew through the air, the driver swerving to avoid them. The pony in the back took aim again, the rifle cracking as he fired another shot. The bullet connected with my hind leg, sending me tumbling onto the ground painfully. Gaaah, sweet mother of Celestia! I glanced down, seeing the hole oozing with blood, trying to pick myself up from the street. Oh, fuck, the bullet’s still in there! I tried to stand, shifting my weight off of my injured leg and hobble after the tank, though it was speeding away far too quickly for me to keep up. Night Strike stopped, looking back towards me and setting herself on the ground. Crash Dive paused, looking back with her, but Night Strike waved her on. “Keep going, we’ll need the potions in the trailer!” Crash Dive turned and ran back after the tank as Night Strike rushed up to me.

She rolled me onto my back, grimacing as she saw the open wound. Night Strike glanced around, unsure of what to do, when a grey mare came charging around the corner, two heavy saddlebags strapped to her back. She trotted up to me, dropping her bags to the ground. “What happened?” She asked. Night Strike stood, a little taken aback at the sudden arrival of somepony else. The mare flipped open her saddlebags, taking out a bottle of alcohol and a pair of curved forceps. “Come on, I can’t treat him if I don’t know what he was hit with!”

Night Strike snapped out of her stunned silence, glancing back down at me. “Uh, it was a military-grade infantry rifle, .308 ammunition. I think it was just one shot in the leg." The mare bent down over me, holding the alcohol in her teeth. She tilted her head a little, spilling some of the liquid onto a white cloth. She dabbed the cloth in the wound, causing me to sharply inhale through my teeth at the burning sensation. “Ahm, why exactly are you here?”

The mare shoved the bloody cloth into Night Strike’s hooves, causing her to jump a little from the sight. “Here, keep cleaning the blood away.” She picked up the forceps in her mouth, crouching down to the wound. I cried out a little as I felt her digging around inside my leg for the bullet, Night Strike doing her best to keep the area clear of more blood, her own self seeming a little shocked white. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before she tossed the bloody bullet onto the ground along with the forceps. “You weren’t exactly flying under the radar, chasing after that motorcycle-thing. Don’t you have any sort of city medics where you’re from?” She asked, digging around in her saddle bags again.

“I-I guess not...” The mare produced a roll of gauze, gently lifting my leg up and beginning to wrap the fabric firmly around it. My breathing slowed as she worked, tugging and twisting at the gauze to keep a constant pressure on the bullet hole. She reached back into her saddlebags where a pair of scissors were sticking out, quickly cutting and tying off the cast. I sat up, gently rubbing the aching part of my leg, trying to not think about the fact that there's a seven-millimeter hole in it now.

“T-thanks.” I muttered. Night Strike helped me back to my hooves, the mare beginning to wipe down her tools and place them back into her bag. She scooped up the bullet, tossing into a small orange bag before placing it into her saddlebags and hitching them back up. I took a few tentative steps forward, a small pain shooting through my injured leg as I placed weight on it, causing me to shift back to my other legs. “Nnfh, I hope Crash Dive doesn’t mind me borrowing a few shots of Med-X...” Letting off a small pained gasp, I looked back to the mare. “Thanks again…?”

“Pressure Cooker.” She said, sticking her hoof out to shake it, smiling.

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