Iron Mare

In the middle of Saddle Arabia, a military convoy rolled through the desert. Sitting in the backseat holding a glass of some sort of liquor in her hand was a turquoise  anthropomorphic pegasus mare with  an amber mane and tail wearing a black suit and tie with a white shirt. With her was three soldiers.

“Call me crazy, but I feel like you guys are driving me to a court-martial. Actually, it’s more like you guys are gonna pull over and snuff me. Are you guys not allowed to talk?” asked Lightning Dust.

“We can talk, ma’am,” said the soldier on Lightning’s immediate left.

“Ah, so it’s personal?” said Lightning.

“No, you intimidate them,” said the driver, who was a handsome stallion.

“Holy Faust, you’re a stallion. Sorry, but isn’t that what we’re going for? I mean, I thought of you as a soldier first,” said Lightning with a smirk.

“Actually, I’m an airpony,” said the driver.

“Well, you’re pretty handsome, I’m actually having a hard time not looking at you now,” said Lightning.

The soldiers all chuckled.

“It’s all right, laugh, they say its the best medicine, after all,” said Lightning.

The soldier in the passenger seat raised his hand.

“Oh, come on, you’re kidding with the hand up, right?” said Lightning.

“Is it true that you guys at Dust Industries are working on a teleportation device?” asked the soldier.

“Excellent question. Yes, we are, but we’re having a little trouble keeping the watermelons from coming back as juice,” said Lightning.

“Is it cool if I take a picture with you?” asked the soldier next to Lightning.

“Yes, it’s very cool,” said Lightning.

The soldier gave his camera to his comrade in the passenger seat. But, before he could take the picture, the humvee in front of them exploded.

Almost immediately afterwards, the rest of the convoy came under heavy fire.

“Contact left!” yelled the driver.

But, no sooner had he left the humvee, the driver was shot and killed.

One by one, the other two soldiers left the vehicle, only to be killed.

I’m outta here! thought Lightning. She got out of the humvee and dove behind a rock. Lightning pulled out her cell phone and began typing a distress message.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lightning saw a missile land next to her. Her jaw dropped when she saw what was on the missile.

Dust Industries.

Lightning got up and tried to get away from the missile, but it blew up in her face, sending her sprawling.

“Ow,” said Lightning.

Lightning then noticed something warm and sticky pooling on her chest. She looked down and saw that it was blood.

Well, that sucks, thought Lightning, before she passed out…

~

Two days earlier, we find ourselves at the Patriot Awards at Celestia’s Palace Casino and Resort in Los Pegasus.

“Lightning Dust,” boomed a male voice as a picture of Lightning appeared on a large screen. “Visionary. Genius. Equestrian patriot. Even from an early age, the daughter of weapons developer Thunder Dust quickly stole the limelight with her brilliant and unique mind. At age four, she built her first circuit board. At age nine, her first engine. At age 17, she graduated with honors from MLP.”

“Then, the passing of a titan. Thunder’s lifelong friend and ally Silver Soul steps in to help fill the gap left by the legendary founder. Until, at age 21, the prodigal daughter returns, and is crowned the new CEO of Dust Industries,” boomed the voice, and a magazine cover of a younger Lightning Dust alongside an older unicorn mare with a gray coat and a graying black mane and tail wearing a suit and tie appeared on the screen. The crowd applauded once again.

“With the keys to the empire, Lightning opens the door to a new era for her father’s legacy, creating smarter weapons, advanced robotics, and satellite targeting, ensuring freedom for Equestria and her interests around the world.”

With that, the slideshow ended and a cyan blue pegasus mare with a rainbow-colored mane and tail wearing a military dress uniform took the stage.

“As liaison to Dust Industries, I’ve had the honor with working with a true patriot,” said Rainbow Dash. “She is my friend and my mentor. Fillies and gentlecolts, it is my honor to present this year’s Apogee Award to Miss Lightning Dust!”

The band played and the audience burst into applause. But, Lightning didn’t come up to the stage.

Rainbow saw Silver Soul out in the crowd. The two mares made eye contact, and Silver shook her head.

Typical Lightning. Too busy gambling and having a good time to show up, thought Rainbow as Silver took the stage. “Thanks for the save,” she whispered as she walked off stage.

“Don’t mention it,” murmured Silver, before facing the crowd. “Well, I’m not Lightning Dust.”

The audience chuckled at this as Silver continued.

“But, if I were Lightning, I’d tell you how honored I feel to receive this very prestigious award. Regrettably, the best and worst thing about Lightning is this: she’s always working.”

~

Lightning Dust, meanwhile, was at the Craps table. “Booyah!” said Lightning as she won the round.

“You are unbelievable,” said a voice behind Lightning.

Lightning turned to see the scowling face of Rainbow Dash.

“Oh, no, did they rope you into this?” asked Lightning.

“Nopony roped me into anything, they just told me you’d be honored if I presented you with an award,” said Rainbow.

Lightning smirked. “That I would be. So, when do I get it?” asked Lightning as she turned back towards the table.

Rainbow smirked and tapped Lightning on the shoulder with the award.

Lightning looked at it. “Oh, well that was easy. Could you hold onto that for just a second? Thanks,” she said.

Lightning placed another bet, rolled the dice, and lost the round.

~

“Tomorrow, 12:00! Don’t be late! I mean it this time!” called Rainbow as Lightning made her way out the door.

“Yeah, sure,” said Lightning. throwing the award away as she passed the trash can.

She had no sooner made it to her car when a male voice called out.

“Miss Dust! My name’s Gabriel Gumms, Technologies Magazine, can I ask you a few questions?” said a green pegasus stallion with a purple mane and tail wearing a stereotypical reporter’s outfit.

“He’s handsome,” muttered a female bodyguard named Happy.

“Okay, then,” said Lightning as she turned to face Gabriel. “Shoot.”

“You’ve been called the ‘Apple Bloom of Boom.’ What do you say to that?” asked Gabriel.

“That’s dumb, I don’t paint,” said Lightning.

“And what about your other nickname: ‘The Merchant of Death?’” asked Gabriel.

“That’s better. Let me guess, Manehattan?” said Lightning.

“Fillydelphia, actually,” said Gabriel.

“Well, Mr. Fillydelphia. You have my word that when weapons are no longer needed to keep the peace, I’ll start making playground equipment for foals,” said Lightning.

“Gee, rehearse that much?” asked Gabriel.

“Every night before bedtime. I could show you first hand,” said Lightning.

“Look, all I want is a serious answer,” said Gabriel.

“You want serious? Here you go: my dad had a philosophy: ‘peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy,’” said Lightning.

“Nice words coming from the mare selling the sticks,” said Gabriel.

“My father helped defeat the Shadowbolts’ science division, HYDRA, and he worked on the Manehattan Project. A lot of ponies, your professors at Fillydelphia included, would call that being a hero,” said Lightning.

“And a lot of ponies would also call that war profiteering,” said Gabriel.

“Tell me, do you plan on reporting on all the lives we’ve saved by advancing medical technology or kept from starving with our intelli-crops? Every last one of those breakthroughs were with military funding, honey,” said Lightning.

Gabriel looked thoughtful for a moment. “You ever lose an hour of sleep in your life?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t mind losing a few with you,” said Lightning.

~

That night, in Lightning’s Maribou mansion, the reporter and the billionaire made their feathers fly.