(Story extract)
 
“Well, I’ve got some good news, and I’ve got some… less-than-good news.” Crash Dive struggled her way out of the bomber’s cockpit, her armor’s broad shoulders scraping against the metal walls of the door slightly. Both myself and Static wore a grimace, the pink-maned pegasus looking back at the craft. “Good news, no major structural damage, from what I can see, and the repair talismans are all in working order. Give it a while, and she’ll be ready to get out of here.” Static bore a wide grin, resting on top of the engine above the intake. I returned it - home’s only a matter of time, now. Crash Dive rubbed at the back of her head, still looking at the cockpit of the plane.
 
“The, uh, the less-than-good news is, the talismans weren’t built for performing a complete overhaul in the case of a crash. The Mark VI was made for repairing battle damage, designed so that it’d function at full while the engines are running. Only had enough battery power left to fix some of the electronic systems… you’re gonna need some other power source.” …okay, home’s seeming a bit farther away now. Static hopped down from the top of the wing, his umbrella on his back underneath his saddlebags. Ooh, his cutie mark’s a lightning bolt, could we plug his butt into it to see if that’d work?
 
“Er, how big a power source are we talking? I… think I have a few spark batteries in my bags. If they’re good enough to power Ivan and Jolts…” He shrugged, looking back to Crash Dive. Well, concentrated lightning does tend to have a lot of power behind it, from my understanding. Suppose it might work, maybe. The power-armored pegasus opted to disagree.
 
“Bigger. We’d need at least a functional portable generator, one of those pre-war ones they used with the military or construction companies. Spark batteries… unless you’ve got a million or so of them, no dice.” Well, least it wasn’t entirely hopeless. Crash Dive thought for a moment, trotting herself past the nose of the craft and looking at the lush wasteland beyond, looking off in the distance. She lingered for a while, Static giving me a slightly confused look - no, it’s not just a pegasus thing. “I know that there are some pre-war bases in this area, a couple kilometers away from each other. Jericho Beach, Seahoof Armory, Vanhoover Air Base, et cetera. It’s a long walk, but there’s probably at least somewhere around there that you can find a military-grade portable generator.” She paused for a moment, a certain look coming to her face. “I can show you to the nearest town, but only for you to find a map. I won’t go in with you.”