Planet: Phylum Gaia
Location: On board the Friendship Express
Destination: Baltimare Train Station
Date: June 8, C.R. 1006

“Get back here!” Sweetie playfully yells at her two friend. Scootaloo is in the lead with Applebloom directly behind her, while Diamond is dead last in the chase.

“Never!” Scootaloo yells in defiance. Determine to outrun both Sweetie and Diamond, as her desire to avoid learning about old thing on her vacation is strong.

“Darn tootin’.” Agrees Applebloom, though she sounds more joyous and playful than Scootaloo.

The three fillies run across the train smiling and laughing, confine to the train limited space. Such limits compels Scootaloo and Applebloom to get creative in their escape methods. Running around, under and above both passengers and staff alike, knocking over luggage, decorations or tripping the occasional pony, they earn the ire of those around them. Nonchalantly shouting off half-arse apologizes. Knowing that once they finish playing, that they’re were going to get a earful from Ms. Cheerilee and the train staff, but that’s a problem for the future Crusaders. After all they’re still filly wanting to have fun while they still can. All except for one pony.

“Get~huff~back~huff~here...please.” Wheezes out Diamond lagging behind her friends. Hobbling to catch up, as her friends get further and further away. Losing sight of them as they run into another cart, leaving her behind in an empty cart. They been running for a straight thirty five minutes, with no breaks. Diamond feels the strain of her muscles as she is forced to ignore the pain. But try as she might, her body is frail and piteous. Her legs giving out, crumbling onto the floor. The cold hard wooden floor.

“huff~come~huff~back…”

The only comfort she’s granted is the cold floor, as it soothe her irritated and pain filled body. Gasping at air to help alleviate the pain and eases her insides. But it’s to no avail. Her body is weak. As nausea sets in, head drumming a choirs of misery, lungs burning an inferno, muscle decrepit and sore, eyes red and wavering. Desperately struggling not to succumb to her waning body.

“~huff~Come~huff~back`huff~please...”

It’s pointless.

In a cart devoid of both staff and passengers, there’s none to help her. Leaving her in utter solitude. Berating herself for thinking she could keep up with the others. Knowing full well that she isn't like the other fillies.

Or most ponies in general.

. . .

Alone.

She’s always alone.

And at her loneliest, there’s only one thing she can truly do on her own.

“Hu-gurk.”

After forty minutes of chasing her friends across the train, Sweetie is ultimately the winner. Using her horns to levitate few pillows lying conveniently on an empty bench. Tripping Scootaloo and Applebloom into a tangle mess on the ground. Scootaloo yelp unexpectedly as she falls over just as Applebloom land on her back.

“Hey, that ain’t fair.” Applebloom annoyingly tells Sweetie.

“Yeah that’s totally cheating.” Chimes Scootaloo, being smoosh underneath Applebloom.

“Hey, there’s no rule on me using my horn.” Sweetie smugly replies. Moving to help her friends up.

“Yeah, yeah, help me up already.” Scoots reluctantly says. Sweetie lend a hand in which Scootaloo graciously accepts. Grasping Sweetie hand, Scootaloo notices that her friend has lean muscles forming. Something which Sweetie did not previously have. Sweetie pulls her from underneath Applebloom, just as said filly was about to rise. Causes Applebloom to trip and fall again to the floor. This time with her plot hanging in the air. A moment of intense silence takes over the vacant cart, as Scoot and Sweetie staring into each other eyes before breaking into laughter.

“Har, har, har,” Applebloom looks unamused. “A little help?” Even though she capable of lifting herself up. She want her friends to do it. They help her up, feeling slightly guilty for causing Applebloom to fall again.

“Well let’s head back, before we get into any more trouble.” Said Applebloom. The others nod in agreement. Walking back to their proper cart. Not once noticing a certain rich tiara wearing pony was missing from their little group.

“Mare, Sweetie when did you get that good at magic?” Ask Scootaloo. Walking in between Sweetie and Applebloom.

“Yeah, last time Ah could remember you could barely lift a stick.” Say Applebloom.

“Well, I’ve been practicing since then.” Replies Sweetie. “Twilight been helping me to improve my magic, whenever she’s been able to.”

“She’s been giving you extra help huh? Well why not have your sister help?” Questions Scoots, “Wouldn’t that be more convenient.”

“It certainly would, but Rarity not that great with the type of magic I want to learn.”

“Really, Ah would’a thought she be your best option?” Applebloom asks.

“Yeah, she very great at magic. Especially when it come levitation since she need to be precises when it comes to her dresses and designs, but she lack the magical skills I seek.”

“Still wouldn’t she be a great help in you becoming better at levitation.” Scootaloo says.

“Again, Rarity would be a great help,” Sweetie seems reluctantly to say, most likely from her trying to not inadvertently insult her sister. As Rarity, no matter the distance or time, will know when Sweetie is bad mouthing her. “But her magic is more mundane.” She says, looking into her friends eyes, pleading to end the conversation right then and there.

Applebloom gets the messages, but Scootaloo misses the cue or ignores it entirely, “So wouldn’t that still be helpful?”

“It would, but as I said, ‘her magic is mundane’ to what I want to learn.” Sweetie fidgets a bit.

“So what do you want to learn then?”

“Oh nothing much.” Sweetie says, looking away from Scootaloo as the ceiling seems more interesting than her friend.

Applebloom places a hand on Scootaloo shoulder, “Hey, Scoot Ah think it’s best to stop.”

“Huh?” She turns to face Applebloom. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know?”

“Well..Ah do, bu-”

“Exactly.” She interrupts Applebloom before she’s done.

“I really don’t feel like it the right moment to talk about.”

“Come on Sweetie, spill the beans.” Pressing the issues, Scoots shake Applebloom hand off her and moves closer to Sweetie. “At least tells us if it’s something bad or not?”

Sweetie looks at them contemplating whether or not to tell them. After a minute she stop and gives into her friend demand, “Fine, I’ll tell you girls, but please keep this a secret from everypony, especially Rarity.” Staring into their eyes as she takes a rigid pose to signify the seriousness of it.

“We promise not to tell anypony.” Says Applebloom looking at Scootaloo. “Right.”

“I promise, now tell us.” Scootaloo says eager to hear her friend secret.

“It’s combat magic.” Sweetie hesitantly says. Looking away from he friends, not in embarrassment or shame, it’s just something else. “I want to join the Royal Guards, Mage Division.”

“Whoa, combat magi-wait the Royal Guards!” Shouts the flabbergast Scootaloo.

“Mage Division?” Applebloom questions.

“Hey, keep your mouth shut.” Sweetie place her hand on Scoots and AB mouths. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you girls yet. I don’t want anypony learning of this, at least not now anyways”

“Sorry.” Scootaloo remove Sweetie hand from her mouth. “I never took you for the type.”

“Yeah, why do ya want to learn that?” Applebloom walks up to her friend. “Also why do ya want to keep it a secret from everypony.”

“To answer the first question; I want to join the Mage Division of the Royal Guards, once I’m of age of course.” Sweetie stop walking for a moment. Thinking on how to explain the next part. “Second is I want to be strong like Rarity, but in my own way. I know that she’ll never approve of it.”

“I can see that, but why Twilight?” Scoots asking the elephant in the room.

“Yeah.” Chimes Applebloom.

“Because Twilight cutie mark is towards magic and as a personal student of Princess Celestia she would know more magic than Rarity ever could.” Sweetie states. “And because of all the wacky adventure she, Rarity and their friends get into all the time, she my best option in learning new magic skill and combat magic.”

“I agree with Twilight knowing more magic than Rarity, but what make you think she know any kind of combat magic?” Inquires Scoots.

“Well other than she’s the personal student of Princess Celestia and as well as the younger sister of the former Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guards, who is the current ruler-slash-general of the Crystal Empire, I think she might know a thing or two of combat magic.”

“Huh, makes sense.”

“What kind of magic does she know?” Applebloom looks to Sweetie, “It must be some real awesome magic.”

At the drop of a hat, Sweetie turns away as her face reddens, “Admittedly she know of combat magic, but told me she has little experience with it. Just the simple blast magic, teleportation, holding spells, simple elemental spells and a few more.”

“Really, Ah would have thought that she knew more combat magic than that.” Said Applebloom. “Like making shadows into weapons, turning droplets of waters into small sharp ice daggers or being able to disassemble enemies while keeping them alive.”

“I know right!” Sweetie excruciatingly says. “You think with all she’s experience and all the villains she’s fought, that she’d know more combat magic. But no, she just points and shoot her magic at her enemies and teleports around.”

“Lame.” Scootaloo nonchalantly says.

“She has told me that she’s prefer to learn magic that benefits and helps others.”

“Again, lame.” Scootaloo repeats what she said earlier.

“Yeah.” Sweetie said to her friends. Before continues to head back to their designated cart.

It’s quite and peaceful on their way back, aside from the glares they receive and rude comment from the other ponies and very few nonequine passengers. But they care little for that, for what wait them is what they truly fear. Knowing that once Ms. Cheerilee hears of they did, that she’s going to figuratively kill them. Mentally preparing for the verbal lashing and punishment they’ll receive once back to their proper cart. The Crusaders plan for a way to get out of trouble or at the very least reduce their future punishment. Never stopping to think if they forgot something or somepony.

Planet: Sera

Location: Unknown

Destination: To abandon COG installation

Date: Heat 8th, 16 A.E.

Monkey (David) P.O.V.

“SHIT!”

Hearing Martin cuss wasn’t anything new. From the moment I’ve met him, he’s spoken to me, the others or really anyone, with an extensive use of profanity and slurs. With a face so apathetic and stolid, it hard to tell when he’s being insulting, racist, sexist, homophobic or really anything that ends with -ist, -bic and -ism. Or when he’s just talking to us. For example look at how he calls Raul and I. Don’t like it, but we begrudgingly come to accepted it as a quirk of Martin’s. Personally, I prefer him swearing than to him being silent. It’s the silence that worries me as nothing good ever comes from it.

So nothing out of the ordinary, just Martin simply swearing. . .or it would have if it wasn’t for a vague semblance of human emotion in his scream. Suddenly this terrible gut feeling hit me, I knew something was wrong. Turning to see...oh SHIT! “Martin!” In the span of five second I drop my Retro Lancer to the ground and scramble towards Martin. He’ll call me a retarded Gooshie cuckle fuck for it, but I couldn’t careless. He would do the same for me. . .

“Fuck!” Martin disappears from my view. In my rush, I ignored the surrounding area and trip over something. A rock or dead shrub, didn’t get a good look at it. Tumbling before landing hard on my ass on a rock. Bruising my ass, I rapidly plummeting towards the edge. It was a good forty or so feet away from where Martin fell, but I’ve could of sworn that we were no further apart than eight feet apart seconds ago? Having no time to ponder over this, I quickly grab my Trike and stab it deep and hard into the ground.

A plethora of intense burning pressure threaten to shred my arms into finely ground paste. Using my legs as makeshift stern, guiding myself away from a large metal bar. . .

. . .

Where did that even come from? And how did I’ve missed th-

“Aug!”

Pain takes over rides my thoughts as I refocus my efforts into not falling over the edge or crash into the metal bar. Normally this wouldn’t hurt, it’ll just be a minor annoyance at worst, but Martin was right. Our current physical state is just shit. How we’ve not died from sheer exhaustion is a mirac-

Vrrump

“Auhh!”

A sudden wave of this weird, no, unique, no horrible. . . no, nO, NO! Something not right!?! It’s cold, sludgy, sharp, jagged, smoothing, warm, watery and down right nauseating sensation, all at once. i-i-i-i-I can’t . . . whu?

“AAAAUUUURRRRRRGGGGGUUUUFFFF!!!!!!!”

For what felt like a perpetual existence of pure inhumane emotions and utter agony. Gods and demons watch over us as a child would with a new toy. We’re nothing, but object to be used and dispose of! Life is a hell and death is a promise. An eternity of death and life washed over me again and again and again and again and again and again and afain adn ainfgiiiiinlknwaa

Vrrump.

“Huff.”

“Huff.”

“Huff.”

The fuck was tha-

Oh no the edge. Closing my eyes as I waited for the inevitable fall.

. . .

. . .

. . .

Feeling all my previous momentum dying, I open my eyes to see that I skidded to slow stop near the edge. Thank the Great Mothers, I must of unconsciously added more force on my Trike during that shitstorm! I felt myself fading away. With great effort I let go of my Trike and barely managed crawled towards the edge, my body fighting me every second I moved about. Fighting the urge to vomit my guts out, I sluggishly peer over the edge in the hopes of seeing where Martin fell.

As I fought to regain control of my bodily functions, I couldn’t stop thinking about what that was. I force myself to focus on Martin, but it kept creeping to the front of my mine. Luckily something peculiar takes my attention. I know I’m not the smartest of the group, like Chris or Raul, but I couldn’t help notice that the fall was unreasonable bleak and ominous. It was too huge and wide that there’s no way Martin would have missed such a detail. What the fuck is going on?

Having no clue as to what is happening and in distress, I wobbly radio the others. “G-g-guys?”

“Yeah what is it.” Chris response. “Need a sit-rep if anything change in the last oh I don’t know ten minutes.”

Ten - ten minutes? Hastily, ignoring the pain, I pull out an old pocket watch and check the time. Twenty. Nine. Minutes. Twenty-nine minutes have passed. Fourteen minutes since when Martin mention the razor hail would slice us open.

“No. I need you and Raul to come over here immediately!”

“How come?” This time Raul response.

“I have no idea how to explain this, but Martin gone.”

“And?”

“And what?” I replied. “He’s gone, just gone.”

Intentionally, leaving out the horrid thing I felt on the way down.

“How can’t you explain that.” He say nonchalantly. “You just said ‘he’s gone’, so he’s dead right? Simple.”

“No.” Climbing up the hill to get my gun, only to stop midway on my fifth step. That, that, that thing tingling all around me. The thought of having that awful sensation coursing through me, even if it’s a negligible amount, is enough that I really don’t or even need my Lancer back. Sadly it something I definitely need. Backing away I think of the best way of getting my gun back.

“Look the best way I can explain is that Martin is gone. No body, no blood, no scream of bloody murder or anything. He just straight up fell into a hole and vanish.”

“Seems simple enough.” There’s an extraordinary lack of concern or care coming from Raul. Make sense as neither one liked or care for the another. “He fell into a hole in the ground. If this happen to any of us, you know for certain he’ll call us either a dumbass, ghibey boy, an underdeveloped bastards of slutty cunt breeding sow, a mentally deficient pieces of shit of a retarded fish or whatever colorful insults he’ll throw at us.”

“Raul cut it out.” Chris voice could be heard over Raul Tac-Com. “Regardless of what he’ll call us, that doesn’t change the matter the there’s gale-hail coming and the David is clearly distress over the matter. Even if it is Martin”

“Fine.”

“What do you need?”

“I just need both here now! I have no really way to explain without you being here.”

You need to experience it, to know it, so I can explain it.

“David you have beacon-flare with you?” Chris ask.

“Yeah activating it now.” I pull the cylinder device from my fanny pack. Yanking the cap off and twist the top to ignite it.

Whoosh

Bing

“Hurry, there isn’t much time left.”

Tossing the device to the ground a few feet away from me. It burns bright a pale red light.

Bing

“Also on your guys way down can you do me favor and pick up my gun.”

“Dropped it?” Chris questions me.

Bing

“Yeah, it fell from my grip as I tumbled down the hill.”

“You know it’ll make it easier for us, if you went for your gun and meet us halfway there to explain what happened.”

“FUCK NO!” I shout, normally I’m not one to swear, but after that, I’ll make a few fucking exception. “No. Just tired.”

“Alright.”

Bing

“Thanks you.”

Sighing, I look down at the beacon-flare, it’s one of Martin weird creation. Just like the things he build when we’re at a safe location. He seems to have a knack for that kind of stuff.

Bing

Pulling my Booska from my back, taking out its extended drum, I’m happily surprised to see that there’s still four out of its six round left.

Bing

That annoying bing echoes into my ears. The beacon-flare sizzles, as the sound of a lightly pitter patter of rain descent from the sky and land on the ground. I hope they come before the hail begins.

Author's Note

Monkey real name is David. Martin calls him either Dave or Monkey most of the time. He doesn't care.

Like in the game, everyone has three guns and grenades.