We sped along the shoreline, the heat of the flames becoming more apparent as we drew closer to the downed aircraft. The roar of the fire barely drowned out the hopeless sputters of one of the engines as I parked a ways away from the wreck, hopping out of the mini tank. Night Strike and I stepped closer to the burning plane, unsure of what to do. “Is she even still alive?” Night Strike didn’t answer, just looking worryingly on as the plane burned. A figure began to crawl out from the wreck, coughing and sputtering as she tried to draw herself away from the flames, dropping a small charred fire extinguisher in the process. Scouring Charge ran in, his helmet’s light cutting through the smoke as he bent down to scoop up the pilot and slung her over his back.

Marigold’s eyes were clenched shut, her muzzle stuck into her flight jacket to avoid the smoke as Scouring carried her over to safety. He laid her down on the ground, allowing her to free her muzzle and take a breath of air. Her rough skin could be seen in the flicker of the fire, bits of flesh hanging off of exposed muscle and sinew. She coughed a few more times before sitting up, still taking in a few deep gulps of air. She looked up at us, grinning a little. “Gwuh, thanks, that landing could’ve been a lot better... had worse, though.” She looked over to the burning plane, her expression immediately growing much more concerned. She stood up and took a few steps closer to the plane. “Oh, fuck, no! This... no, no!” Our shadows continued to dance on the ground as the fire burned away, Marigold pacing back and forth. Scouring watched her for a moment before picking up the extinguisher she'd dropped with his magic, starting to spray down the flames with foam, to little effect. Eheheh, ahm, well, I suppose it could be worse, right?

Suddenly one of the engines on the burning wing exploded, large chunks of metal flying off in various directions, a few landing in the lake with a sizzle and a cloud of steam. Yeah, yeah, something worse like that. Aerith’s magic encompassed a large amount of water from the reservior, carrying it over and splashing it over the aircraft's back, a faint sound of metal bending being heard as the water hit it. Steam and smoke rose into the air as the water doused the flames, leaving the sky redarkened and the charred hulk of a plane resting silently. Marigold trotted up to her aircraft, looking it over and rubbing a hoof along the metal skin below the faded name. “Oh, no... Flew over Equestria for two and a quarter centuries, and this... no..."

I trotted over underneath the wing, moving past the lowered landing gear, float... thing, looking at the engine that was hit. The bits of metal that it used to attach to were jagged and corroded, hot oil still dripping from the end of it, and several small holes and alarmingly large ones puncturing through what engine block was left. Eesh, yeah, I’m no mechanic, but I really don’t think this thing is going to be flying again anytime soon. “So, uh, you were headed towards Hopeville, right?” Marigold had hoisted herself up into the Seaddler's cockpit, digging around inside. She tossed a slightly singed bag onto the ground before hopping out, letting off a small sigh.

“Actually no, I came up here because of some weird chatter on Seaddler's shortwave, sounded like somepony and their friends came across some old jets and a copy of 'Aeronautical terms for Idiots'. Wanted to see if meeting these guys would help make sense of their chatter that's blocking up the airwaves.” She picked up her satchel before turning back to look at the damaged wing, chewing on her lip for a moment. “I guess I should've thought about the fact that the Seahoof Armory probably had some anti-air weapons in it. Usually when we were shot at, it wasn't with anything bigger than rifle rounds... wasteland's changed a lot.” The old ghoul let off a sigh, hooves digging into the sandy shore as she moved herself towards us. As she caught the rest of the group, and the mini-tank, she paused for a moment, thinking. “Hm... you wouldn't happen to be that group up here that that guy running the Radio KAOS station out of the HMS Cadence keeps going on about, are you?” Sheesh, I think we’re going to open a lot of conversations with that now.

“Yep, the Vanhoover Five, that’s us!” Night Strike said proudly, hovering in the air and placing her hooves against her sides with a smile. She soon set herself back onto the sand, letting her smile fade with a weak chuckle. “Ahm, sorry about Hopeville, that radio chatter you've been hearing, those guys with the other, uh, jets, they're kinda not friendly. Everyone's been a bit on edge about the whole thing, we're trying to help keep the peace, but, well... they haven't been to Hopeville yet, nopony there knows what they look like, just that they're big, they fly, and they're a threat.” Night Strike bit at her lip, letting out a breath through her nose. We all stood quietly for a moment as Marigold dusted some ash off of her flightsuit, myself looking to the dark blue pegasus. “Uh, so, um... hm... Static, what'd you get us as part of the payment?”

"Uh..." Oh, please, please, please tell me she wasn't suggesting we'd give her some of the caps we earned fair and square to get her plane fixed... unless... oh, right, that! Whew, dodged a bullet there... "Two weeks free stay at a hotel in town, I'm sure when they learn that it was you who they shot down they can probably be bargained to raise it. Yanno, psychological and physical damages and all that."

Marigold wore a small look of surprise for a moment, before looking back to her plane. “Well, considering I was probably going to wind up towed there anyways, might as well. Seaddler's been a good aircraft, but she wasn't exactly built as a luxury yacht." she let off a small chuckle, which myself and Night Strike joined in weakly. It faded back to silence for a moment as her eyes moved back to the charred place where an engine and wing panels once were. "I can’t just leave her here, though. We've come back from worse, but last time she was damaged this badly... well, there wasn't an Equestria like there is today. Sure would be hard-pressed to find anywhere that'd make another plane like her, far as I can remember she only had three sister aircraft and Celestia knows where they wound up...” I looked back towards Scouring, who had returned with Aerith to working with the bomb he’d taken off of the cart. Well, the dock was close enough to the plane for us to get here fast and them to walk back...

“We do still need to set up our plan to help with the weird mutant fish problem that’s been going on here. Scouring and Aerith can stick around here and watch your plane while we take you back around the lake, we know somepony who might be able to help pull the Seaddler across the lake tomorrow, too.” Marigold frowned a little, thinking it over, as Night Strike flew herself over to Scouring and Aerith. The ghoul pilot looked over the minitank before shrugging, letting out a small sigh.

“I suppose I can handle one night away from the Seaddler. Just be careful around her, she's... she's been through enough tonight as it is.” She trotted over to the tank and climbed onto the back, settling herself down by Boomer and doing a double take at the size of its magazine. I hopped into the driver’s seat as Night Strike and Crash Dive placed themselves in the usual spots, the engine starting up with a soft purr. Bringing the half-track around, we passed by Aerith and Scouring as they finished up on prepping the bomb, the alicorn quickly nabbing her rifle and machine gun, and Scouring's rocket launcher as we passed by.

“Don’t worry, Aerith's the best sharpshooter I know down here and Scouring's a Steel Ranger, they can handle anything they might run into. Besides, there’s no way I’m letting them blow up that bomb without me here to watch it.” Night Strike let off a small chuckle, the crisp night air catching it as it trailed off. Turning off the small dirt road that connected to the dock, we were soon back on cracked pavement, and the way towards Hopeville. “Where’d you even get the Seaddler, anyways? It doesn’t seem like something you’d just up and build one day and, no offense, but you don’t look like somepony that would try storming a military base anytime soon. Assuming you could find one that would keep a plane like that... propellers for a fixed-wing, huh, who knew?”

Marigold grinned a little, her jaw muscles visible in their stretching. “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly as smooth-coated as I used to be.” She adjusted herself as I followed the path, the crashed plane quickly growing smaller as we sped away, following along the shore. “The Seaddler was one of three aircraft built by the Bow-wing corporation for Marigold Industries, my old company. Sister planes were the Seafalke and the Seamowe, all of them built for long-distance mail service. I was flying on a standard supply run to the international research outpost way up in the arctic circle with Jackscrew and Dusty, when...” She fell silent for a moment, before continuing. "When I saw the missiles coming over the horizon. Called it into Cloudsdale civil air command... heard the exact second when the early ones wiped it out of the sky. That squeal over the radio still haunts me..."

The road curved back around towards the edge of the lake after crossing a wide river on a taller bridge, avoiding a small ditch that was filled with stagnant, swampy water. The tank’s treads kicked up a few stray pebbles as I followed it along, the headlight cutting a beam through the darkness and illuminating the road ahead as we passed by Jericho Beach, getting onto the familiar roads again. Sheesh, I swear we’ve been going back and forth so often I could drive there with my eyes closed. After a long moment of silence from everyone, I decided to break it, giving a glance back at Marigold. “Ahm, hey, you wouldn’t happen to have some kind of generator back home that you could fit onto your plane, do you? We’ve been looking for one but we’ve had no luck so far.”

“Can't say that I do. Where I'm from, Seaddle, we get our electricity needs from an old icebreaker's reactor. Been running the whole town for decades at this point, just as much a miracle that Seaddler's still airworthy as it is that that old thing's ticking. Sorry.” Marigold replied with a small shrug, prompting a sigh from me. Well, it was worth a shot. The headlight illuminated a radroach scurrying onto the road, only to be crushed under the treads of the mini tank a moment later. Gross. “Have you guys tried asking the Steel Rangers? Wasn’t the unicorn that dragged me out of the wreck one of them?”

“We haven’t actually run into any Rangers other than him, being honest. He said the Rangers around here aren’t too friendly to locals, so we probably wouldn’t get anywhere with them, anyways.” Night Strike responded as I turned towards the edge of Hopeville, approaching the hotel with its flickering lighted sign. “Not to mention, they’d probably take the Valkyrie for themselves in a heartbeat if we told them what the generator was for, and I doubt even Static’s silver tongue would be able to buy it back from them. Let’s just hope they aren’t avid radio listeners.” Night Strike gave a feeble chuckle as I pulled into the cart parking lot of the hotel, the engine’s rumble fading away as I switched it off.

I hopped out of the tank as the others climbed off of the back and made our way towards the front door. “At least we know Statc’ll be happy tonight, he’ll have a room all to himself to invite Chauffeur over.” Night Strike let off a small giggle, gathering up her duffel bag. I shot her a glare as she stuck her tongue out at me, Marigold trying to hide her small smirk. Our hoofsteps were muffled as we stepped onto the carpeted floor of the lobby, Chauffeur sitting behind the desk. Night Strike walked up to him, a wide grin on her face. “Two rooms for the night, and do you guys happen to do room service?”

Shoving her aside, I placed the caps down on the counter and took two keys from Chauffer without a second word, immediately turning to head down the hallway. “Oh, come on, Static, we all saw how you blushed.” She poked my side, only to receive the key shoved in her mouth. She’s sleeping outside the next time we come here, and I hope it rains. I slipped the key into the lock and turned it, the mechanism clunking satisfyingly before I pushed it open and stepped in. I made sure to lock it behind me before letting my saddlebags and umbrella fall to the floor and myself flop onto the bed, burying my face in the old pillows.

The sound of a note being slid under the door caused me to roll back off and stare down at the floor, reading off of the slightly smudged ink. ‘Look on the bright side, with him you’ll have somepony to pamper when I’m not soda binging.’ I crumpled up the note and tossed it into the wastepaper basket. Celestia dammit, Night Strike…

---

I awoke to a knock at my door, my mane sticking up in multiple directions from the night’s sleep. Yawning, I opened up the door to be met by Night Strike and Crash Dive, who stepped into my room and let the door shut with a click behind them. “Sheesh, we knocked on your door at least six times, I didn’t think it took you that long to drag yourself out of bed.” I rolled my eyes and stepped over to the bathroom sink, wetting my hooves so I could flatten my hair down into a less haphazard look. “Chauffeur said he got the message about the free nights, so Marigold’s free to stay here for now, at least until we get her plane over here and she can find someplace to work.”

I trotted back out once my mane was more presentable and hitched up my saddlebags, slipping my umbrella underneath the strap as usual. “Sounds good. We should head off to Maple Creek right away to get Ripple to pull the plane across the lake, then. Don’t want to keep Scouring and Aerith sitting in that shack for too long.” Night Strike nodded and we headed back out to the lobby, myself averting my gaze from Chauffeur, who was still sitting at the desk. I hopped into the mini tank once again as Crash Dive sat on the back wagon, and Night Strike settled down at Boomer's controls.

Rumbling to life, the engine purred as I turned and headed down the familiar pathway to Maple Creek, the sun still hanging somewhat low in the early morning sky. The small engine seemed to give a small sputter and cough as we pressed onwards, the gears changing over before taking hold again. “What I wouldn’t give to get this thing moving a little faster...” I gave a small grumble to myself as we rolled along the road, tracks clattering underneath. We passed by a few ponies that were fishing along the river, and I turned the handles to follow the flowing water towards Maple Creek.

“Didn’t the gunsmith in Maple Creek say something about somepony she knew up north that worked with machines like this? We can stop by him when we go looking around there for a generator, probably.” Night Strike suggested. I shrugged, tilting my head around a bit to try and relieve some of the stiffness in it. “Besides, this is still a heck of a lot faster than walking, so quit your complaining.”

We arrived at Maple Creek as the sun was getting into its climb, early enough for it still to be morning but feeling like day. I wiped a bit of sweat off of my brow as we pulled up in front of Ripple’s fishing shack. Night Strike hopped off and knocked on his door as I parked the mini tank and climbed out after her with Crash Dive following close behind. “Ripple? You in there?” After a few moments of silence, she opened up the door to reveal an empty shack. “Huh. Well, his boat’s still here, he must be down at the pub.”

We turned and began to walk towards the riverside bar, Crash Dive’s metal-covered hooves clanking against the stone sidewalks. A pony stumbled out of the pub as we approached it before noticing us and leaning against the wall. “Heeeeey, how’re you doing?” He slurred to Night Strike, who seemed to be contemplating grabbing the grenade rifle off her back to give him his answer. Crash Dive responded to him instead, with a swift kick to the knee, sending the drunken stallion sprawling onto the ground. “Jeesh, y’don’t need to be so rude about it!” He stood himself back up shakily, and began to limp away. The double doors to the pub swung behind us as we stepped in, looking around for Ripple.

“Hey, it’s the Vanhoover Five! Where’s the rest of ya’?” One of the patrons called out to us. Before we could say anything he shook his head and waved his hoof. “Ah, whatever, drinks on me anyway!” He waved us over and we obliged, each taking a seat at the bar. The bartender slid a small glass in front of Crash Dive as well as two bottles of Sparkle Cola over for Night Strike and myself. He poured an amber colored liquid into Crash Dive’s glass as I popped the cap off of my bottle of soda and caught it in my overstuffed wallet. “Seriously, thanks for all the things you guys do around here, this is the least I could do.”

“Thanks, we’re glad to help.” Night Strike passed on a smile, taking a swig of her Sparkle Cola before pausing. “Though, uh, maybe you could help spread the word about not shooting first and asking questions later? We had a civilian get shot down up in Hopeville, we got those guns to save lives, alright?” She gave a soft chuckle, the stallion with us looking slightly taken aback. Night Strike set down her soda, shaking her head. “No, no, no she’s fine, everypony’s fine, just… y’know, what could’ve happened…” She sat awkwardly for a moment before going back to her soda. Great, now he thinks we’re sociopaths.

“Anyways, we’re looking for Ripple, doesn’t he normally hang around here?” The stallion let off a small chuckle, before pointing us over to the corner where the old captain stood attempting to throw a few darts into a board hanging on the wall. I thanked him and we moved over, Crash Dive quickly finishing her shot of alcohol under her mask. There was a resounding cheer as Ripple managed to land a bullseye, another grumbling pony handing over a hoofful of bottle caps to him. “Ripple!” I called out.

Turning and pocketing his caps, he grinned upon seeing us step up. Ah, ahoy! What can I do fer ya? Looking for another ride?” I nodded and he placed some of the caps he’d just earned on the table to pay for his drink before trotting out of the pub with us back towards his fishing shack. “Where to this time? Vanhoover, somewhere along the reservior, just a lesiure trip or somethin'? Latter's only fer Deadstallion's Island, unless you're gonna actually start payin' me for shipping guns.”

“Well, we were actually hoping you could take us up to the north edge of the lake. Somepony crashed their plane and we wanted to see if you’d be able to drag it over to Hopeville. It’s got these water landing gear things and the hull didn't seem too shot up, so it should still float fine, but the wing’s been badly burned up.” I responded. “We’ve also got a small favor to do in that area, Aerith and Scouring are there working on it now.” Ripple nodded and led us up the small ramp onto Trout, but before we stepped on, I paused. “Ahm, you think the mini tank will be fine here for the night? Dragging the boatplane back will probably take a while, you can stay in the motel with us for the night if you want.”

“Aye, it should be fine, we haven’t had any sort of vandals since that company from the Rangers passed through a month'r two ago. And thanks, but I think I’ll just sleep below deck, just in case somepony back in Hopeville tries to scuttle Trout again.” I tilted my head as Night Strike lifted the ramp up onto deck before flapping down onto it herself. Fair enough, I suppose. Ripple started up Trout’s engine before twisting the crank to raise up the anchor. We turned and began to head up the river, Trout chugging along steadily. I flipped over to the radio on my Pip-Buck, a smooth, soft tune filling the air.

When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more.

I held a hoof out to Night Strike, a smug grin on my face. She blushed and responded by shoving her own hoof into my face and shoving me away. I chuckled and stuck my tongue out. Suit yourself…

---

The waves lapped against the sandy shore underneath the tail of the Seaddler, Ripple pulling Trout around and tossing the anchor overboard. “Alright, Crash and I’ll get her hooked up for the trip brought back over to Hopeville, you finish up whatever you needed with the others.” I flipped down the ladder for us to climb down as Night Strike simply hovered over to the shore where Aerith and Scouring charge were standing.

“We’ve got the bomb all set and ready, just waiting to get Marigold's bird out of the blast zone before we fire 'em off. Aerith found an old bag aboard the barge, filled it up with anythin' that looked important in the shed, includin' that radio ye found last night.” We all headed over to where Crash Dive and Ripple were tying large chains around the wing roots of the Seaddler, making sure they were securely bound. Aerith helped to fasten the chains with her magic, the links melting and binding to one another to form large loops around the metal wing segments. Ripple climbed back up onto Trout, giving the engine a few testing revs.

“Alright, Trout should be able to drag her across the water pretty easily, but I’ll need you guys to give a push to get her out of the sand, got it?” He called back as he hoisted the anchor back up. We all took positions, myself standing at the back of one of the landing floats. “Alright, shove!” Trout’s motor spun wildly, my hind hooves digging into the sand as I pushed forward. The plane didn’t move more a moment, but soon it was sliding smoothly along the sand before splashing into the water, sending a small wave behind Trout. The feeling of victory quickly died though as I realized how far away Trout got before Ripple could stop it.

“Ah, crap, we’re gonna have to swim to him.” I muttered. Night Strike shrugged and took to the air, quickly landing softly back down onto deck. Stupid pegasus… I looked over to Aerith. “Think you could give me a ride?” She nodded and bent down, allowing me to climb onto her back. Crash Dive and Scouring Charge waded out into the water, their suits keeping them dry as they swam over to Trout, Scouring only just able to do so. We were soon all on deck again and steadily steaming for the other shore, the steel ranger flipping open a small hatch on his armor and pulling out a detonator.

He passed it over to Night Strike, grinning. “Care to do the honors?” She gave a slightly maniacal giggle, taking the small device and looking back towards the old docks. She pressed down on the trigger, a second going by in silence before the shack and the docks vanished in a large white cloud that quickly became a rapid fireball, the blast condensing air into clouds around and the shockwave sending a wave of water crashing into the side of Trout. I stumbled about on deck, trying to grab onto the side for stability as the tiny harbor of the research facility was replaced by a small foamy cloud, which confusingly started to take on a mushroom shape. Well, hopefully that’ll stop some of those fish pony things... assuming they don’t breed very fast.

Ripple stuck his head out of the window of the bridge. “Dear Luna, at least warn me before you do something like that again, will ye?! Thought her reactor had just gone off like a bloody megaspell…” He shook his head and drew it back through the window, Trout continuing on towards Hopeville. Let’s just hope the guys running the guns tonight are a little less twitchy than the ones last night... The lights of Hopeville shone on the edge of the lake as we approached it, a couple other boats floating off of shore near the town. “I’ll stay here for the night, you go get whoever owns this plane and we’ll figure out where to dock it tomorrow before heading back to Maple Creek." I nodded and we all hopped down into the shallow water below, wading in towards shore and the edge of town.

“We’re staying in the hotel tonight, if you want to head over there now.” I told Aerith and Scouring. “I want to head to the mayor and see if she’s got her payment for us.” They nodded in acknowledgement, but stuck along as I made my way back towards the town hall. The large oak doors creaked as we stepped into the Mayor’s office, finding her looking over several stacks of paper, a pen hanging from her mouth.

“Ah, good to see you, we’ve got your payment right here.” She lifted up a bag of caps along with a crate of small caliber ammo. “400,000 caps, and some ammo that the gunsmith made up, said to give to you. Good thing you got us those guns when you did, somepony was flying in for an attack just last night!” The mayor leaned back, looking satisfied.

“Um, yeah, about that attacking aircraft,” I said, scooping up the ammo and caps. “That was a civilian aircraft. We heard her requesting permission to land on the reservior over a military transceiver radio.” The mayor’s face went pale as she sat up straighter in her chair, looking worried. “She’s alive, don’t worry, we were able to recover her aircraft for the most part too, but you really should be more careful with who you’re shooting next time.” My voice grew sterner as I spoke. “Don’t you some way of contacting planes flying over?”

The mayor gulped. “Uh, w-well, the, uh, ponies running those guns don’t… even if somepony did I don’t know if they’d have waited long enough for confirmation…” She leaned forward, putting her head in her hooves. “Oh, Celestia, if this gets out this will be the death of my re-election…” She looked back up at us. “Please, is there anything I can do to help them?” She asked with pleading eyes.

“Her plane’s moored off the shore with a gunboat captain from Maple Creek, most of it is intact but the one wing was badly damaged by the anti-air fire, and it's completely lost an engine. You get somepony to at least repair the wing for her, and we’ll be fine. She said she used to run some courier business before the war, helping set her up with some of the caravans wouldn’t hurt either.” The mayor nodded quickly and pulled over a notepad, scribbling down instructions into it.

The mayor spat out the pen and was about to speak before Aerith dropped a musty old leather satchel onto her desk, it landing with a resounding thud. Both myself and the mayor stared at it in confusion for a moment before the alicorn produced a familiar radio from it, the mayor blinking a few times in disbelief. Aerith glanced towards me, a smile on her lips, as she put up another magic screen. 'Military-standard grade radio transciever, just needs an antenna connection and somepony to listen on it. Same one they used to pick up her signal last night.'

"Ah... okay then! Um, so, ah, well..." Goddess-damnit, why do I need to have a conscience. I really want to sell them this radio, because hey, I was nice enough for the gun mount as it was, but... guh. I -have- been traveling too much with Night Strike. "I... guess we have the answer to the friend or foe contact issue. You can probably ask the pilot of the plane in the harbor how to set it up, she's staying at the hotel. Ask for Marigold."

“I’ll make sure that’s done. I am so, so sorry for this happening.” She went back to her paperwork, shuffling it around and scribbling some more into her notebook, Aerith gathering the leather bag back up. We turned and headed back out of the town hall, making our way towards the hotel. The sun was almost completely set by the time we stepped into the lobby, myself walking quickly past the desk to avoid Chauffeur’s gaze. Scouring followed me into our room, shutting the door behind us as I dropped my saddlebags and umbrella to the floor. I flopped onto the bed, rather unsurprisingly tired for the day - for once, could something not come up that keeps us stuck in these two towns tomorrow?

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