Flipping through the pages of the Valkyrie’s many manuals, I readjusted myself as Scouring let out another snore in the bed opposite. He rolled over in bed, his snoring muffled slightly by the pillow as I scanned through the wrinkled pages. The schematics of the large Tesla cannon turrets caught my eye, and I focused in on them, trying to make sense of the controls. Okay, so they’ve got standard automatic-fire, rapid discharge, and an overcharge mode… probably should save that for engaging targets on the ground. Even then, can’t go too high, unless we want to end up like popcorn on a stove… not to mention what any excess electricity might do to the bombs in the bay. I know bullets won't set them off, but electricity...

Rifling through a few more pages, I took to glancing over the auto targeting system. Hopefully that thing compensates for target speed, or we’re just going to be punching holes in nothing but their jetstreams. I shut the book and slipped it back into my saddlebags, pushing it down beside the now clean set of stealth armor neatly tucked into the satchel. Leaning back against the pillows, I closed my eyes, needing a small break from trying to figure out the workings of that machine. Guh, where’s Greasy when you need her? She’d probably have had us back north a couple hours after our crash… assuming she wasn’t freaking out about seeing Crash Dive’s Enclave suit and thinking she was going to execute her for fraternizing with the enemy or something.

Scouring snorted a little, groaning as he slowly sat up in bed and placed a hoof to his temple. “Oogghh… I never shoulda agreed to that contest.” He turned his head, spotting the small glass bottle of water sitting on the bedside table before glancing up to me. “Ah, thanks, do need this.” He gulped down the cool glass, still holding his head a little. He layed back into the pillows, closing his eyes and pushing the covers off of him.

“I think Night Strike wanted to see another show tonight. You think you wanna hang back here?” I glanced over to the unicorn as he rubbed a hoof against his forehead. Scouring groaned and nodded, pulling a pillow over his head as a few hoofsteps could be heard from the room above. I glanced at the clock on my Pip-Buck and climbed out of bed, hitching up my saddlebags. “Speaking of, it’s getting kind of late, I better go find her. Keys are with you this time.” I opened the door, making sure not to let it slam behind me before I started down the hallway.

Ponies were starting to make their ways back home as I trotted through the blue-lit train yard. I passed by a few shops that were closing up as I headed towards the tank’s garage, one pony being smacked in the back of the head by the tin awning as he loosened the beams holding it up. As I stepped up to the door of the garage, I noticed a group of depressions in the snow, all heading away from the large gate of the shed... tank tracks, duh. Following the four sets of tracks, my gaze was turned over towards the base of the mountain, the tracks curving around the corner of the slope. Oh Celestia, please don’t tell me Night Strike convinced those guys to go Hellhound hunting.

Picking up the pace, I began to trot between the large prints in the snow, my breath forming small clouds with each exhale. The sun was beginning to set in the sky as I hopped over a few train tracks as I followed those left by the tanks, running through them as the snow became higher. The sound of a shell firing suddenly met my ears, the explosion ringing through the air a moment later. As I rounded a small cliff in the mountainside, I spotted three large tanks and one small one sitting at the base of the slope. Rushing over to the side of Mad Jack's, I was about to bang on the side door to get the driver’s attention, only to be sent ducking for cover on the ground as another shell was fired from the large barrel. Shit, shit, why are those always so damn loud?!

I clutched my ringing ears, letting out a mixed cry of pain and surprise as I fell. A second later an even louder roar could be heard as several explosions went off in the distance, the shockwave sending me rolling back in the snow as I yelled. “Gaaaaah, what the fuck is wrong with all of you?!” I couldn’t even hear the metal hatch of one of the tanks flip open as Mad Jack popped his head up, glancing down to see me rocking back and forth, hooves over my ears.

“Oh, hell! Night Strike, your friend's here!” The red-coated stallion muffledly cried out to one of the other tanks before ducking back down into his own, Night Strike climbing out of the one with the forward-placed turret a moment later. My legs shook as I got back to my hooves, Night Strike helping me up as the hatch to the tank flipped open again, Rheinmetall climbing out. Mad Jack hopped out of the side door of his own and stepped up beside me as I shook my head, trying to regain my senses. “Jeez, who taught you to just go waltzing up to a line of tanks during a firing test, eh?” Oh, yeah, because it was totally my intention to go deaf today.

Standing a bit more steadily, I clutched my head, the ringing in my ears slowly fading away. “For Celestia’s sake, why were you firing off all those guns at once?! There isn’t even anything out there!” I gestured to the field where the mushroom cloud was dissipating, the others gathering around. Night Strike answered with a small smirk.

“Well, of course there’s nothing out there -now-.” I shot her a quick glare. Not really the right time for jokes, Strikey. “Though it was justified, though! It was an animatronic Manticore, and in my opinion we reacted quite appropriately.” She stood firmly, wearing a grin as the cloud was blown away by the wind. The others muttered quick apologies as Aerith returned Thumper to Night Strike. “Anyway, why’d you come out here?”

“I figured you wouldn’t be checking the time too often if you were gushing over the tanks again. I thought you said you wanted to see another show? It’d at least give you a chance to talk to Vera without fainting again.” Night Strike blushed as I heard the muffled crunch of hoofsteps behind us, blinking in surprise as Crash Dive walked over in her armor, Merlin and Royce following her. “What’re you doing here?” I asked, puzzled.

“There, see? They’re friends with a fucking battalion of tank drivers! We give up! You want to try killing them, go ahead and do it!” Royce said to - or, well, more yelled at - Crash Dive. I raised an eyebrow, even more confused. Merlin covered his face with a claw, shaking his head. Uh… does she think Crash Dive is with Cerberus, or something? Well, I guess that at least clarifies, whoever he is, he’s friendly with the Enclave.

“Ehm... sorry, Royce just thought you were... and... yeah... I'll just take her back to the hotel.” Merlin wore a small grimace, rubbing at the back of his head as Crash Dive trotted up to us. He turned and started to lead Royce back away, muttering something about dragging his drunk sister with them as said sibling was now shouting about why Cerberus would send them to kill his buddies.

Aerith’s horn lit up as the group of ponies began to disperse, heading back to their tanks after that little, um, show, a magical screen popping up. ‘I’ll admit it was funny, but was it really necessary to take those two along to try and find us?’ The rumble of the tanks' engines grew louder as Mad Jack began to drive his back towards Maple Station. I followed Night Strike into the top hatch of Rheinmetall’s tank, Crash Dive and Aerith following suit.

Rheinmetall flipped a few switches and levers, the tank shuddering before it began to pivot around in place before moving forwards to follow behind the one with the gun barrel that looked like the one from the TOG. “It hadn’t been my original plan, they ran into me at the hotel. The brother at least knew I was with you guys, but the girl wouldn't stop screaming and begging me not to kill her for, uh, failing. Kind of is one of the weirder things to have happened to me, but, if they're who I know they are, and she mistook me for who I think she mistook me for... it's not a good sign.” I braced myself on a handle nearby to avoid slipping out of my chair as we rolled over a large rock, the gun in the tank's turret settling beside me. Okay, that was... part of the gun aiming mechanism. Probably shouldn't touch that.

We rode along in relative silence, the rumble of the tank's engine and clatter of its tracks filling the air, the smell of oil meeting my nose after a short while. “Uh… you sure this thing is that safe?” I asked, glancing back towards where the engine of the war machine was located. Night Strike looked a little more concerned as she noticed the burning smell as well. Rheinmetall let off a weak chuckle, letting it fade off as he twisted around in the seat to look back at us, slowing the tank down slightly.

“That TOG of yours up north’s never really seen proper combat, or been running for that long, has it? Things just start to fail as they get old, unfortunately. Porschia does tend to set herself alight, but I've done my best to ensure she'll still run, been doing so for nigh on 210 years now by myself.” That really isn’t instilling any confidence in me, more I think about it - at least the TOG is still running on all its original parts, I think. Still, we trundled onwards, arriving back at the tank ghouls' shed with no more incidence. The engines sputtered out smoothly as Rheinmetall flipped a few switches, Aerith pushing the hatch open and beginning to climb out through the turret.

“Thanks for letting me fire this thing's gun off, Rhymey! Might have to see about destroying that old film with it at some point.” Night Strike waved, fluttering down to the ground as I leapt from the treads to the floor. “Hey, where’s Scouring? I would’ve thought he’d want to see some of these things in action.” Night Strike asked as we headed towards the small door, the others climbing out of their parked tanks.

I pushed open the door to the garage, stepping out into the dusk light. Lamps flickered to life as we trotted past, helping to illuminate the dimming yard. “He’s still hungover. You don’t think actual hangovers are anything like whatever happens after you binge on RAD, right?” I chuckled, Night Strike rolling her eyes as we made our way towards the roundhouse. The warmth of the entertainment hall was inviting as we stepped inside, heading towards an empty table.

Piano music echoed through the hall, a dark grey Pegasus performing a few tunes before the acts. A waiter trotted up to us and placed a few glasses of water down on the table, along with a few menus before walking off to help another carry a large tray of drinks over to a rowdy group of ponies. “So, where are we planning to go once we get the mini-tank back?” Crash Dive asked, not paying her menu any attention. She let off a small sigh, looking over at the stage. "I'm not sure about you guys, but I kind of wouldn't mind going back to the lighthouse. Least there I think I can face the rest of them, if they come knocking..."

“We'll probably be heading west for the coast anyways, actually. Aerith and I found out the possible location for that Shady Shores place, somewhere near the, uh, Battered-Sea Power Station, I think? Whatever we blew up was really just a small research dock that the freaky fish-things were around, not the actual Shady Shores. They’d probably have some sort of generator there we might be able to salvage, not to mention the Triage would probably be willing to bankrupt themselves for any kind of medical tech we could find in there.” I suggested. Night Strike looked up from her menu, her expression one of concern.

“We’re going to go into the place that made those seapony things? Since when did you get a death wish?” I raised an eyebrow. Since when have you not been completely gung-ho about breaking into some pre-war facility? As if she could read my mind, Night Strike shook her head, going back to her menu. “Yeah, yeah, I’d just rather not go digging around someplace that’s crawling with those walking nightmares, alright? Don't even know if War Crime can hurt those things or not...” I glanced down at the list of foods before me, my eyes widening a little. Sheesh, how much do they really need to charge people for food here? Then again, I suppose a dinner theater would be pricier than the food stands we’ve been eating at before.

The waiter soon returned to take our orders, the pianist’s performance covered up by the applause and stomping of the ponies all around. The waiter scribbled down our orders before trotting off towards the kitchen, our drinks being levitated over by the unicorn managing the bar. Night Strike popped the cap off of her bottle of Sparkle Cola as Crash Dive took a sip of her Sparkling Rum. I turned in my seat, popping a cube of ice from my water into my mouth to suck on as the lights dimmed.

A spotlight appeared, Vera stepping out onto the stage to a chorus of cheers and applauds. She grinned as the pianist started up again, this time playing a much slower tune. Vera began to sing, her voice resonating through the round house. Night Strike leaned forward, resting her head on her hooves as she watched Vera sing. I poked her side, chuckling. “Come on, Night Strike. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you had a crush on her.” I whispered. Night Strike blushed, sticking out her tongue before going back to watching Vera. I leaned back in my chair, Aerith drinking some of her own soda.

Upon finishing her number, Vera was once again met with applause. She waited for it to die down before speaking up, “Thank you very much, it really is a pleasure being able to perform for all of you tonight. Before the rest of the show, though, I’d like to take this moment to thank the Vanhoover Five for braving those Hellhound-infested mines to retrieve the parts for our fine town’s engines. With their help, we can rest assured we’ll be sleeping warm in the coming nights.” Another round of applause broke out, a light blush crossing my face. Well, she sure knows how to talk somepony up. “And an extra special thanks to Night Strike and Static Charge, who like many of us are still trying to get back to their homes up in the north. We know you and your family will meet again, some sunny day.” She grinned, the music starting up again.

A thud could be heard to my left, and I glanced over to see Night Strike sprawled out on the floor, a giddy expression on her face as she fainted. I sighed and shook my head, grinning a little. Never change, Strikey.

---

We trotted out of the roundhouse, my belly now comfortably full and cap bags uncomfortably emptier. Snow was drifting slowly down from the sky as we headed back to the hotel, a few ponies exiting the roundhouse behind us and trotting off in their own direction. “Bluh, I should not have had that tiramisu…” Night Strike grumbled, putting a hoof to her stomach. “Who the heck puts coffee in a cake and thinks that’ll sit well in a full stomach?” I pushed open the door the hotel and trotted in, kicking some of the snow off of my hooves as we stepped inside.

“The same kind of pony who orders a coffee cake and thinks it will sit well in her stomach full of Sparkle-Cola and roasted molerat.” Crash Dive chastised her, her armored hooves thudding loudly on the steps as we walked up. “If you’re going to throw up, you’re sleeping in the bathroom tonight.” Aerith slid the key into the door to her room, the lock opening with a satisfying click. I stepped into Scouring and my room, finding the unicorn still dozing in bed, the glass of water resting on the bedside table now empty.

I carefully twisted the bolt shut on our door, trying to make as little noise as possible as I walked over to the window to pull the shades down. The room grew darker as the moonlight was blocked from streaming in, and I climbed into the unoccupied bed, tossing my jacket onto my saddlebags. Thinking back to what Vera had said earlier, my ears flopped down a bit as I buried my face into the pillow. It’s been so long since we’ve left… I hope they’re not getting too worried.

I tried to imagine dad pounding on Twintails’ door with his prosthetic leg, Jolts slung over his back. Him and Twintails trundling along on in the tank as Nikolai blasts groups of raiders away with his Tesla cannon, Fringe, Flash-Bang and Sugar Rush providing fire from a vertibuck overhead. I grinned, closing my eyes, chuckling a little - well, I suppose there could be a worse team coming to find us.

---

Sunlight shown through the blinds as I sat up in bed, yawning and twisting my neck a little to crack it. Scouring rolled out of bed beside me, looking much better after the night’s sleep. “Mmh, so, how was the show last night?” He asked, trotting off into the bathroom to get another glass of water. I climbed out of bed, picking up my jacket to slip it back over my head.

“Pretty good, Night Strike fainted at the sight of Vera again, but that’s not new.” I joked, Scouring chuckling to himself. He stepped back out of the bathroom, taking a sip before setting the glass down and getting to work putting his armor on. I paused as he did so, glancing into my saddlebags before hitching them up, catching the black plates of the fresh-smelling armor. “Do you think I’d need any sort of power armor training for this stealth suit? I mean, it doesn’t look as cumbersome as most power armor, but I still don’t know how exactly it works.”

Scouring shrugged, the armor plating over his hooves releasing a bit of steam as they closed over his legs. “Not sure. If there is anything to it, it’s probably just how to activate the stealth field, I bet Crash Dive or I could teach you some of the basics of power armor if we needed to.” I trotted out of the door behind Scouring once he had his armor on, going to knock on the girls’ room.

Night Strike opened the door to reveal Crash Dive slipping on her helmet as Aerith slipped on her clothes... Aerith has clothes? Wait, when did she get that new suit? They all stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind them. “So, when did you get a new suit, Aerith? Looks pretty clean for something you might’ve found off a dead body. Not to mention fitting perfectly...” I narrowed my eyes, Aerith’s expression growing a little worried. Her horn lit up, flashing up a sign.

‘Somepony was looking to get rid of their… old clothes, and… thought it’d be reward enough after… Taking out the Hellhounds… and stuff. Yeah, that.” The repeatedly flickering magical sign and long gaps between her words didn’t help to relieve me. Night Strike stepped in front of Aerith, opening her mouth to speak, though she quickly found she was at a loss for words.

“You stole some of the caps, didn’t you?” I stepped forward a bit, both Night Strike and Aerith gulping. Oh, they did. “For Celestia’s sake, you can’t just take caps like that! We can’t go around willy-nilly buying everything! At the very least could you've left an I.O.U., so I don’t go around thinking we lost the money or somepony else stole it? We still need to pay for the new engine on the mini-tank, who knows how much that’ll cost!” I went off on a tirade, Aerith shrinking back a little. Before I could continue, though, Crash Dive smacked me on the backside of my head.

“Oh, shut up, you cap-pincher. We’re not a company and we’ve still got enough caps to buy out half of Vanhoover.” She began to trot back towards the entrance of the hotel, the rest of us following behind. I grumbled to myself, tossing my key onto the desk as beside Night Strike’s as we passed it. A cool breeze whipped around us as we stepped out into the hotel’s courtyard. One pony in a janitorial jumpsuit was tossing salt onto the stone pathway to stop any ice from forming. We walked through a long line of train cars, the fresh snow crunching under our hooves as we made our way towards the garage our mini-tank was resting in.

The small door to the garage creaked as it opened, alerting Oil Slick to our presence. He stood up from the stool he had been sitting at and set aside a magazine that boasted of an interview decrying the usefulness of a plasma caster on the cover. “Hey, got her all tuned up and ready to go! Now, the new regulators installed on the engine should help keep the engine’s power in check and give it that extra boost. At the very least you won’t blow a gasket again, save if you try to tow a tank behind it.” I looked over the mini-tank, tossing my saddlebags into the driver’s seat as Oil Slick listed off the details of the improvements. “Speedometer won’t show exactly how fast you can get, though if you’re ever going at that speed I’ll assume you’ve got bigger problems on your mind. Anyway, with the fixed gasket and upgrade, along with the discount for getting the extra parts back from the mine, I’d say… 2,000 caps should cover it.”

I paused, not entirely happy with that price. I’m supposed to be the one demanding caps like that, not the one paying! Glancing back to the others, they simply trotted over to the tank, Aerith and Scouring hopping into the trailer as Crash Dive and Night Strike climbed onto the back. I glanced down at the mini tank, giving a little sigh. Oh, the thing I do for the machines I love… I flipped open my saddlebags and began to count out the caps, pouring them into a small satchel he tucked into a pocket in his mechanic suit. “Thanks again for what you’ve done, really. If you ever need a tune up, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Oil Slick trotted over to the controls to the garage door, the large metal gate creaking open. I flicked a switch, the mini-tank’s engine rumbling to life. Twisting the handle bar, the engine roared as I rolled out of the garage, turning to speed through the town. “Hoohoo, Oil Slick really gave this baby the special treatment!” I said, feeling the tank roll smoothly over the hills as we approached the edge of town. I pulled my makeshift goggles out of my saddlebags and slipped them over my face, the ground lighting up with small trails of latent magical energy as they blocked my eyes from the harsh winds.

Night Strike flicked on her radio, and the air began to fill with a jazzy piano riff accompanied by a small group of saxophones. Heh, now this is some music to speed to...

"You women have heard of jalopies,
You've heard the noise they make,
Let me introduce my new Rocket 88!

Yeah, she's straight, just won't wait
Everybody likes my Rocket 88
Babe we'll ride in style movin' all along!

A V8 motor baby, it's modern design
Black convertible top and the girls don't mind
Sportin' with me riding all around town with joy!"

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