Chapters Dear Liberty, Guardian of the Sun,
I got your letter safely. Sorry I couldn’t reply any sooner. It’s been hard to keep up with my personal mail.
What you’re suggesting is interesting. We’ve had no success in determining Twilight Sparkle’s location since her disappearance. I haven’t been able to divert any of my Wardens to even try to look, with the war and all that. But your idea, bringing the former Element bearers into a party to search for her, might just be what we need to find our lost Princess.
I sent along a copy of your plans to Princess Luna. Before you get upset, you should know that, as Marshal, I have an obligation to inform Princess Luna of a plan like this in order for me to help you. Luckily she thought it was a good idea, and after running it by the Consulate, has given it the go ahead.
I should have no trouble in locating each of the bearers, especially since the caribou have been on the defensive after the Crossroads Incursion. Just give me a week or so, and I can have the bearers gathered for you.
In the meantime, it would be a good idea for you to read up on what the five bearers have done during the war. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories, but there are a lot of written accounts which are much more in-depth than hearsay. I’ll contact the Bureau and have them sent your way. They’ll help give you a clear picture on what skills you'll be working with in the near future.
Lastly, I've put in the detainment transfer request for you. Night Wing and her Sentinels will bring him to you soon. So long as you keep him under watch of the Guardians, the Consulate won’t mind. You’d think that a dragon who was born in Equestria would be treated more fairly by the New Monarchy.
Good luck, Liberty. I'll write again once I have the bearers together. And I’ll be sure to let you know if I hear anything about a possible lead on Twilight Sparkle.
Sincerely,
Mjolna, Marshal of the Wardens.
Liberty sighed after perusing the letter for a second time. The mail pony had apologized for its late delivery, though Liberty didn’t blame her. Communication had been fairly secure in the past few months, but the sheer amount of requests, reports and compliance letters that circulated through the Alliance mailing system could cause some delays. The letter from Marshal Mjolna was only a few days late of its expected delivery.
The Night Sentinels were known for their expediency. If they hadn't arrived already, they will soon. Very soon.
Gathering two of her Guardians of the Sun, Liberty stood outside on several elevated stone steps, keeping an eye on the pathways leading up the slopes. The land surrounding her brought back memories.
Haven. The birthplace of Equestria’s rebellion, and the Haven Alliance.
The spanning caves within the small cluster of mountains, surrounded by their rocky, grassy slopes, were first discovered by Luna and her Seven Sentinels when they crossed over the border from Umbra into Equestria. Ever since then, it had grown from a hidden sanctuary for refuges and fledgling troops, to the base which catapulted Luna’s efforts to retake Canterlot.
Nearly two years later, it remained one of the Alliance’s most important fortresses. Though to call it a fortress alone would've been an understatement. It still existed as a crucial garrison, but Haven’s original purpose was to provide safety for those fleeing the caribou. Staying true to that concept, construction of a small town within Haven’s expanded walls was begun. Seven buildings rested on slanted stone bases along the slopes, with another four currently under construction. The largest of Haven’s buildings, the town hall, was built directly into the main cavern’s entrance, melding brick and carved stone with the angles and contours of the mountain rock. The combination of new structures with the old terrain of the slopes was an everyday sight for the various townsfolk.
For Liberty, however, the changes were striking. It was a big difference from the time before the Treaty of Haven, when the open slopes had accommodated rows of tents for refugees, surrounded by the small zones set aside for the training of soldiers. A time when the only walls made of stone were the caves themselves.
The Haven back then was during a time fraught with uncertainty and fear. But there was a hope born here that no one had ever seen anywhere else before. And even with the expanding development of Haven, that sense of hope endured.
Reminiscing for a few more minutes as she waited at the front steps of the town hall, Liberty put her thoughts aside as she caught sight of her timely visitors.
A small squad of noctrals climbed up a grassy trail along the slopes, donned with black and cobalt armor, light and flexible in design and covered with dark camouflage. The noctrals are of the Night Sentinels; the spiritual successors to the personal guard of Princess Luna. The creation of this unit was done to honor the memory and sacrifice of Luna’s closest friends, on that fateful day in Canterlot. Though they served as much more than tributes to the dead.
With the formation of the Night Sentinels early in the war, Luna had access and direct control over a unit of spies, infiltrators and commandos made up of well-trained noctrals. Being under Luna’s authority, this unit did not have to answer to the Consulate in Canterlot, which gave them an incredible amount of freedom in their activities. Although suspicious to most of the officials of the Consulate, this independence was used to great effect to aid the war effort. For some though, this would prove to be more than troublesome.
Despite being on the same side, the Night Sentinels’ own operations have been known to hamper Liberty’s Guardians indirectly. Some would call her paranoid, but Liberty knows that Luna’s Night Sentinels deliberately compete with the Guardians. As if there was an attached note to every order they received; ‘While you’re at it, get in the way of the Guardians and ruin Liberty's day if you can’ . Liberty growled at the prospect. It only further deepened her mistrust of Luna.
At the head of the Sentinels is Night Wing, the purple-maned and yellow-eyed noctral mare who was once a veteran scout of Umbra. She was known mostly for being the leader of one of the two noctral scout teams who had lost their way in Equestria. Night Wing had successfully kept her team, and the family of a particular wall-eyed mare, hidden and safe in the Everfree Forest for almost a whole year. After the deaths of the Seven Sentinels, Princess Luna sought out Night Wing to lead the newly created Night Sentinels. She was a perfect fit for the job, and has been their commander ever since, having participated in numerous engagements.
Liberty refocused on the approaching noctrals, analyzing them with a keen eye for anything noteworthy. They were armed as standard as most Night Sentinels were. Lightly, with crossbows of varying natures and their signature katars. Most of them wore visors over their sensitive eyes, to protect them from the sunny spring day.
Days like these always felt empowering to Liberty. She could stand out in the Sun’s rays, soaking up the brightness and basking in the light of the very power which gave her drive and purpose. It always reminded her of the Princess who inspired her to become a royal guard all those years ago. The herald of the Sun, who was killed by her own sister.
The cadre of Night Sentinels stopped before the steps leading to the town hall. From within the center of their group emerged their reason for arriving at Haven; The dragon Liberty had been expecting.
The clothed, young dragon was not bound or constrained in any way, thankfully. Liberty worried that he might have been maltreated, and mentally sighed with relief upon seeing him unharmed.
Night Wing, leading the squad from the front, stepped aside, motioning for the dragon to step forward. He walked up the town hall steps before stopping in front of Liberty. His skinny and slender figure suggested him to still be very young for a dragon. In pony years, Liberty guessed him to be close to a teenager.
Liberty cleared her throat, her hands held behind her.
“Hello, Spike. My name’s Liberty. Welcome to Haven. You’re in the care of the Guardians of the Sun now.” Liberty stated, extending an open hand to him.
“Hello. Uhm… I’m sorry. What exactly does that mean?” Spike asked, as he slowly shook Liberty’s hand.
“It means we will be working together. I’ll explain more soon. Go on inside. My Guardians will help you get set up with your living arrangements here in the town hall.”
Outstretching an arm to point the way, Spike nodded and went with Liberty’s two Guardians, disappearing behind the town hall doors.
Liberty turned back to the front, descending the steps towards Night Wing.
The noctral plainly stared at her, cracking a friendly smile. Her accompanying Sentinels spoke among themselves as the two leaders met. Unlike them, Night Wing had no visor covering her vibrant, cat-like eyes.
“Good to see you still kicking, Liberty. I’ve heard of some of the missions you’ve done. Dicey infiltrations and daring raids. Impressive stuff.”
Liberty ignored the compliments. “Was Spike treated well in his detainment?”
“Don’t worry,” Night Wing replied, folding her arms, “I knew when the Consulate ordered his arrest for ‘consorting with other dragons’ it was out of misguided paranoia. He wasn’t put in a detainment camp, just under house arrest. I made sure that his guards treated him well.”
“That’s one thing we can agree on. Thanks.”
Night Wing bowed her head, though in a very informal way. To Liberty it seemed like a mix of hollow respect and mandatory courtesy.
“So… You’ve got a pretty interesting plan in the works. A first attempt at finding Twilight Sparkle. And bringing the old Element bearers together to do so. Princess Luna thinks it’s a fantastic idea.”
Liberty was tempted to ask how Night Wing came to learn of her plans, but she quickly reminded herself of Night Wing’s position. She was a Sentinel. The leader of the Sentinels. It only made sense that if Mjolna sent word to Luna of the plan, then Night Wing would be informed. Even if Luna knew nothing, the Night Sentinels were their own spy network. They would have found out one way or another.
“If Luna is on board with this idea, why hasn’t she done anything about it herself? Why hasn’t she tried to find Twilight? You’d think finding some pony as important as the Princess of Friendship would be on her to-do list.”
Liberty always felt good when she found something to call out Luna on. She hadn't forgotten what happened at Canterlot.
Night Wing frowned.
“You try running an entire nation and its host of allies and leading it through a war like this. Other priorities come first. And it’s ‘former’ Princess of Friendship. Who knows what she’s doing now if she hasn’t come back to Equestria.” She rebuked.
“Luna can hide behind all the excuses she can think of. The only benefit in not searching for Princess Twilight is so that Luna doesn’t have to share her ‘monarchy’.”
The look on Night Wing’s face showed a sense of familiarity with Liberty’s attitude. An irritated scowl creeped up on her.
“Look. If you want to believe Princess Luna is the villain in all of this, fine. But remember that it was your decision to take the Guardians out of the chain of command. Princess Luna could have branded you and all of the Guardians as traitors, but she didn’t. Because she knew you would do everything to help save Equestria, and we need everyone we can get to win this war. Plus, technically, it was Luna who created the Guardians of the Sun when the Treaty of Haven was formed. Even if it was your idea.”
Sometimes Liberty wished she could think before she talked. Her brash accusations and resentment were shot down by Night Wing’s points.
“You're a critical factor in all of this, Liberty. You’re a strong mare, and a good leader. Start focusing on what we need to do to win this war. If you think finding Twilight Sparkle will help, then do it.”
The air still heavy from the sternness of her tone, Night Wing departed without a single goodbye. Her Night Sentinels joined her, making their way to Haven’s gates below.
Liberty huffed.
“Sweet Celestia I can’t stand that bat.”
Liberty removed her dulled, golden armor, worn and battered from use, and placed its pieces on the wooden stand beside her dresser. She wouldn't be needing to wear anything formal when she got to the town hall archives, even if it was still official Guardian work.
After sifting through the casual wear in the large drawers, Liberty settled with throwing a shirt and shorts over her underlays used for when her armor is on. The fur-tight, padded garments help kept her warm and comfortable both in and out of her armor. It was actually the same kind of underlay which the old royal guard used to wear. Its softness and stretchiness reminded her of times spent off with her friends in her royal guard days. And of more… intimate nights.
Liberty closed her room’s door behind her, exiting into the renovated living quarters within the caves of Haven. The current space was still considered a part of the town hall, as the floor and walls were made of the same carved stone blocks which stem from the buildings outside. The ceiling remained dotted with the same stalactites that hung above the first denizens of Haven.
Passing by a menagerie of town hall administrators, architects and citizens of all races, Liberty traversed the chambers and hallways before arriving in the archives. The small chamber gave an exotic and intriguing setting, the walls a mix of wooden braces and natural stone supports. The cave walls were lined with softly glowing torches, giving illumination to the particularly dark place. Candles and lanterns abound on the desks and shelves.
Waiting for her by the largest desk was her newly settled guest, directed to the archives by his Guardian escorts.
“I’m sorry for all the confusion, Spike. You must have a lot of questions.”
“Yeah,” Spike coughed awkwardly, “Listen, I’m really thankful that you got the Consulate to let me go, but why? What do you need me for?”
Liberty paced along the side of the desk opposite from Spike.
“Are you aware of Princess Twilight’s disappearance after the Battle of Canterlot?”
Spike nodded, his head drooping as he tried to prevent those awful memories from coming back, but to no avail.
“I want to find her.” Liberty added.
His head shot up. “Find her? How?”
“I’m forming a party. One made up of the five bearers of the Elements of Harmony. This party will be tasked with locating Twilight Sparkle, and bringing her back home. I want you to be a part of it, Spike. You deserve to be. And I could use your help.”
“I…”
The archive door bursted open, startling Spike.
“On behalf of the Equestrian Cultural and Historical Recovery and Preservation Bureau, your documents have arrived!” Exclaimed a tan pegasus with a white mane, carrying a parcel of files in her arms.
Liberty chuckled with a grin as she embraced the Bureau pony.
“It’s good to see you again, Scavenger Hunt. Is Tome with you?”
“Nah. We both decided it would be best if he stay in Canterlot,” Scavenger Hunt replied, pulling away from Liberty, “We need one of us there to manage things for the Museum and the rest of the Bureau. Even this far into the war we get ponies coming in to learn about the past. It’s so uplifting! And tiring.”
“Glad to hear. Before we unravel what you’ve brought us, let me introduce my guest. This is Spike.”
Spike extended a clawed hand to shake with Scavenger Hunt, who immediately took it with two hands and shook it vigorously.
“Ohhh wow! THE Spike the dragon?? It’s amazing to meet you! You were Princess Twilight’s assistant!”
“Yeah, that’s me. I didn’t think anypony would remember me.”
“Hehe, I have a thing for Equestria and modern history. Er, recent but still long enough ago to be history. You’ve given invaluable aid to the Element bearers in their times of need. And you saved the Crystal Empire from King Sombra’s return!”
Spike scratched the scales along the back of his head, blushing.
“Aww… It was nothing.”
Before Scavenger Hunt could go on a tangent about every tiny detail of Spike’s accomplishments, Liberty interrupted.
“What are the files you’ve brought us?”
“Oh, right!”
Moving to the large desk in the middle of the room, Scavenger Hunt opened the parcel, laying out several folders. Each were numbered in specific patterns used by the Bureau’s archivists, and each one was stamped with a title following their numbers.
Canterlot Valley Campaign
“These are all from the first months of the war.” Liberty observed as she and Spike sift through the documents.
“Yup!” Scavenger Hunt quipped, “Most of these are general operation notes and time frames. Battles, movements, intelligence and other military stuff. But this folder here contains a specific account of a unit of Strikers. THE unit of Strikers which the Element of Loyalty belonged to!”
Spike looked up, his eyes locking onto the folder in Scavenger Hunt’s hands. “Rainbow Dash? She belonged to… Uhh.. Strikers?”
“Light, fast, heavily armed assault troops specifically trained for rapid deployment, ambush tactics, and lightning strikes, all while exhibiting near-reckless behavior! You don’t know?”
“Ahh. No, I didn’t… I don’t know a whole lot about the war. My ‘house arrest’ didn’t really come with the news.” Spike explained to Scavenger Hunt.
“That’s alright Spike,” Liberty spoke up, “What we need from you is your memories from before the Fall. I’ll focus on the war-time aspects.”
As Spike nodded, Scavenger Hunt hurriedly gathered her bag after sneaking a look at her watch. She zoomed around the desk, shaking Spike’s hand once more.
“Sorry, I’ve got to get back to Canterlot and to the Bureau! The rest of the docs on the other bearers will be here soon! You’ll be getting a lot of visitors in the next week. It was awesome meeting you, Spike! And good seeing you too, Liberty! Good luck with the reading!”
Liberty chuckled. “Thanks again, Scavenger Hunt. Travel safe.”
“Will do!”
With a swoosh of the archive doors, Scavenger Hunt departed in a flash, leaving Liberty and Spike to their paper-chocked desk.
“Where do we even start?” Spike asked, sitting down.
Liberty took the seat across from him. “A lot of these papers are combat reports, but each one is dated chronologically. All we have to do is sort through each of them and pick out anything involving Rainbow Dash and the Strikers unit she was a part of and add them to her file. Adding your knowledge on the bearers pre-Fall, we can piece together a story. It’s like doing a research paper.”
Spike nodded as he lightly sifted through the sea of papers. “Research paper… Ok. This shouldn’t be so bad. It’ll be just like old times. Sorting books in the library…”
“That’s what I’m hoping for, Spike. The more you feel comfortable and at home, the better. I don’t want to stress you out.”
Spike breathed in deeply and exhaled, placing a claw to his chest. He opened his eyes with a determined grin.
“You don’t have to worry. I know how to handle stress. I’m ready.”
Liberty smirked in admiration.
“Then let’s get started.”
Wrath of the Pegasi, Part 2
The Liberation War, Year 1
1 month After Battle of Canterlot (A.B.C.)
Canterlot Valley Campaign, Day 19
“Here you go, Mayor Mare. That blanket should help keep you warm.”
Rainbow Dash laid the forest-green blanket around the Mayor’s shoulders as she sat in a chair within the medical tent, cradling a warm cup of coffee that Velocity had brewed for her.
“Thank you, Rainbow Dash. But… I haven’t been mayor of Ponyville for years now. Just call me Ivory, please.” Said the older mare, her naturally pink mane sagging as she shivered from her cold.
“How long were you and the others trapped in that basement? We didn’t even realize you were all down there until Captain Spitfire ordered every pony to search the town.” Velocity chimed in.
“I’m afraid we all lost track of the time while we were down there. It was the day when stallions came back to their senses. After many had escaped following that uprising, the caribou governor herded the black collared mares and the resistant stallions taken prisoner into the basement and locked us in. It was so strange, they didn’t even bother to change the stallions or blank us mares. They just kept us down there, even fed us. They must have been paranoid of something.”
“It was on the Day of Rebellions then.” Velocity surmised.
“Is that its official name? How long ago was that?”
“More or less official. It was the day Luna destroyed the source of the caribou brainwashing, the corrupted crystal heart. That was nearly a year ago.”
“A whole year? Goodness, I... Well, at least it went by quickly. Perhaps that’s why the caribou governor kept us alive. To use us as hostages to be bartered with, in case Princess Luna decided to take Ponyville. I still find it so incredible what she did.”
Rainbow Dash pictured such a barter taking place. She imagined Luna would have somehow worked around it, both freeing the hostages and killing the caribou. It wasn’t worth much to think about it though. Luna never batted an eye to Ponyville during her own endeavors. The most she ever did for the town was blow up the hospital, though it wasn’t really a hospital when the caribou were using it. Still, it would have been more useful if it wasn’t a mound of rubble.
“That doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that matters is that you and the others are safe.” Dash stated.
“You’re right. I’m just… overjoyed, that you’re all here. Fighting for us in the… Haven? It’s the Haven Alliance, yes? There’s so much to catch up on. However, the very first thing I’m going to do is find a pair of glasses. I haven’t been able to see clearly since the day that caribou crushed my old lenses those years ago. Hopefully I can find a craftspony who can make me a new pair. And some silver dye for my mane too.” Ivory chuckled in the midst of a cough.
“I’m sure you will. We’ve got to get going on patrol now. The medics here will take care of you, Mayor.” Rainbow Dash stated, shaking Ivory’s hand once more
Ivory sighed with smile. “Very well. Be safe you two. And thank you again for the coffee, young lady.”
“You’re welcome, Ivory.” Velocity replied, bowing her head respectfully before turning to follow Dash.
As they began to head in the direction of their typical patrol route, Dash sighed.
“I still can’t believe that search didn’t turn up the caribou governor or any of his lackeys. I mean, it’s good we found the Mayor and those other ponies, but if we found that governor we could be one step closer to finishing all of this. Ughh… I could use a drink.”
Quietly nodding, Velocity took out a sealed canteen from her bag and unscrewed the cap. She handed it over to Rainbow Dash.
“I think you’ll like this. Here.”
Dash took the canteen, her nose filling with a sweet smell of apples. Her ears perked up in joy as she recalled the familiar scent.
“Whoa! Apple cider? How’d you know?”
“I can tell you’re the cider type.”
“Where in Equestria did you even get this?”
“I found some old barrels in one of the abandoned houses. Seemed like some caribou had an admiration for the Equestrian recipe. I added in a few other ingredients to give it a nice zing.”
Dash’s lips curled into a bright smile after taking a swig of the canteen.
“You don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve drank cider.”
“A few years?” Velocity guesses.
“An eternity.” Dash corrected as she downed the rest of the cider.
Even though it was heartening to know that Ponyville was safely in the hands of the Alliance, Dash couldn’t shake the awful feelings that came with the patrols. She had been visiting the old places she and her friends used to be all the time. Carousel Boutique, Sugarcube Corner, Fluttershy’s Cottage, Dash’s own Cloudominium which had survived, and Golden Oaks library. Not a single home or building lacked the scars or graffiti of the caribou, nor their obsessive propaganda. Though some of the liberated ponies began cleaning as much as they could, some marks may take a long time to erase. Especially for Dash’s current destination; Sweet Apple Acres.
With the taste of cider still fresh on her tongue, Dash could almost relive moments of her past spent on this farm. So many days and so many adventures started here, with her friends. The memories made Dash feel homesick, despite being there in person.
Both Velocity and Dash had passed by the Apple family farm several times on their patrols in the past two days, always finding it to be as still and empty each time. The fields once ripe with healthy apple trees were now mostly dull, ravaged with the invasive flora brought by the caribou. There were still some apples upon the trees, but many had already fallen and rotted at the roots. Without the cultivating magic of their earth pony caretakers, the orchard didn’t nearly produce as many apples as it once did. Rainbow Dash vividly remembered the food shortages which were all too frequent during the caribou’s reign.
Velocity caught Dash’s attention as they walked beside the broken fences.
“I heard Ponyville used to grow the best apples.”
“You bet. The Apple family were the best. Hopefully someday I can get you to try zap apple jam-”
Rainbow Dash stopped in her tracks, her smile disappearing. Her head swiveled towards the barn.
“Wait… You hear that?”
Dash and Velocity stood absolutely still, twitching their ears to pick up a feint patter of footsteps, coming from the barn’s direction. They each drew a fire dart pistol and moved to the barn doors, flakes of aging paint peeling off from the wood.
Throwing caution to the wind, Rainbow Dash kicked the large wooden doors open, startling the pony inside.
“Ahh!”
She dove behind a small hay bale, though her red tail and mane failed to cooperate in her hiding attempt.
“Wh- … Apple Bloom?!”
Apple Bloom pokes her head out, emerging upon seeing the two Strikers.
“Rainbow Dash? Gosh, y'all scared me! I thought I was done for.”
Apple Bloom had grown since the last time Dash saw her, which was nearly four years ago. She figured her to be nearing her teenage years. Her mane was braided loosely and caked in grime, lacking its definitive pink bow. From the look of her muddied and heavy hiking attire, it was easy to guess that Apple Bloom had been in the wilderness for some time.
“What in Equestria are you doing here?”
“I’m scoutin’ the backroads ‘round here for tucked away trails the Crusaders could use. I wanted to drop by the farm though. Just to see if it was still here.”
Dash tilted her head. “The Cutie Mark Crusaders?”
“No, it’s just the Crusaders now. Sweetie Belle got a message out to me an’ Scootaloo a long time ago about workin’ together from all across Equestria, and that’s what we’re doin’. Our cutie marks can wait. We need to spread as much hope to ponies as we can. One way we do is by setting secret paths to help ponies who had escaped the caribou. I haven’t found an awful lot of trails though ‘round here. The old railroad leading from Ponyville would make a good trail, but I can’t go anywhere near it with the darn caribou still in town.”
“Ponyville is safe now. We liberated it from the caribou two days ago.” Rainbow Dash stated, enlightening Apple Bloom.
“Really? That there’s great news! The railroad will be perfect! And we can now use the farm as a base! I gotta tell Sweetie Belle! You got any pigeons in town?”
“There should be a few around that would be willing to take a message for you. But you’re staying in town once we get there. We can’t have kids like you running around while there are still battles to be fought.” Said Rainbow Dash, adamant with her words.
“We’re not kids anymore. We’ve been through everything you have. But y’all do have a point. If the caribou are still roamin’ around then I’ll stay in town for a whiles. I’ve got letters to write anyway.”
Apple Bloom took a moment to fetch her backpack, which she had deposited nearby before investigating the barn. Rainbow Dash and Velocity met with her outside, having closed the barn doors before exiting the property.
Glancing back at the farm, Rainbow Dash turned to Apple Bloom with a saddened expression, still remembering the past.
“Listen, Apple Bloom. I’m, uh…. I’m sorry about what happened to your family. About Gra-”
“I don’t want none of it, Rainbow Dash,” Apple Bloom quickly replied, almost sounding like her older sister, “If I get stuck in the past, then how am I gonna be able to help others? No. It’s like Sweetie Belle says in her letters. We need to spread hope. And that’s just what I’m gonna do.”
Turning briskly, Apple Bloom headed off towards Ponyville’s direction, leaving behind a startled Rainbow Dash. Velocity watched the younger mare walk off before looking to Dash.
“Did she lose her family?”
Rainbow Dash nodded. “Her parents passed away when she was still a foal. Her older sister and brother were separated when everyone was escaping on the Day of Rebellions, but her grandma… Well. You know what they did to elders.”
“I know,” Velocity muttered somberly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Though I’ve never seen someone her age show so much strength of will.”
“Yeah. Runs in the family.”
It wasn’t long before the Strikers moved out once again, having been given new orders to circle northward and rendezvous with a griffin unit on their way to one of the last caribou strongholds located on the very fringe of the Canterlot Valley; Rainbow Falls. The trip to meet with the griffins was expected to take only a day.
Some Strikers were left behind with a replacement unit to help guard Ponyville and its liberated inhabitants, along with the Heartmenders and Reconstruction surveyors who had arrived shortly before the departure. Though it was a token force, the town was considered completely secured, as the caribou were pushed back across the Valley.
Dash and Velocity had joined the rear section of their column, marching along the empty back roads. They had barely gotten past the outskirts of Ponyville, when the aftermath of a battle was spotted. The Strikers passed by scorched fields and the blasted ground of a battlefield, marred with black ash from a massive fire which had swept through the area.
The victims of the battle were littered across the field for all to see. Warped pikes and crosses held aloft the mauled and seared remnants of caribou bodies, torn and sliced to bits. The mere smell of the burnt flesh was enough to cause some Strikers to hurl as they passed.
Dash stopped to look at the grisly sight. There were times in her mind when she thought that Strikers were too cruel or too brutal when out of combat. But she had never seen anything like this. The gruesome effigies were everywhere, dotting the open landscape like toothpicks with stands of meat stuck to them.
As she reeled from the smell, Velocity stopped beside her.
“I wonder if this is our escaped caribou governor and his group.”
“Who did all of this? There weren’t any friendly forces near Ponyville when we took it.”
“Reavers.”
Dash turned to Velocity, her eyebrow raised. “Reavers? They’re Alliance?”
“Well,” Velocity cocked her head, “They’re Alliance. But they took the route of the Guardians, so to speak. They were formed in secret not long before Luna took the capital, and they don’t take orders from the New Monarchy whatsoever. They do their own thing, and this happens to be what they enjoy the most.”
“Are they psychotic? This is… Not what we’re here to do.” Dash spouted, her eyes fixed onto a head impaled onto a spear tip.
“Pretty much. From what I’ve heard, they’re made up of ponies who believe that wiping out all of the caribou, down to the last stag, cow and fawn, is the only way to heal Equestria. I hear they have a thing for forbidden Zebra alchemy and blood magic.”
“Blood magic?” Dash asked, “How could a unicorn cast magic without her horn? Stallions could I guess, but…”
Velocity shook her head. “Oh no, you don’t need a horn to use blood magic. All you need is a sharp object and enough perverse zeal to cut yourself open. The bigger the wound you give yourself, the stronger you become.”
“Jeez. How come I’ve never heard of that before?”
“Some say it’s Zebrican in origin. Others say it was an Equestrian form of dark magic, similar to King Sombra’s, that was kept under lock and key by the Princesses. Either way, the Reavers re-discovered it. And they love it.”
Dash took in Velocity’s words as she turned to look once more upon the bloody scene laid before her. Though their entire bodies were eviscerated far beyond any recognition, Dash could make out other victims. Ponies, both stallions and mares.
Velocity noticed Dash’s discovery.
“They don’t have any remorse for traitor stallions or mares either. They execute anyone that they think are ‘tainted’.”
“What is this war doing to us…”
Rainbow Dash stood for a minute longer, still trying to contemplate the sight before her. But as she scanned the fields, she spotted something, further past the effigies. Something kneeling, in the center of the burned field.
Taking a cautious approach, Dash went further into the field, followed closely by Velocity. Her steps crunched the smoldering remains of grass as she closed in on the kneeling mass, realizing it to be a mare. A scorched and dirty trenchcoat covered the mare, and a hood concealed her mane. The only bits of the pony which showed were her ears, which stuck out from openings in her hood. The little tufts of fur visible were a pale grey.
Hanging on the shrouded mare’s back was a rectangular blade, resembling an overly-proportioned cleaver. Bloodstains were sunk deep into her boots and the storm patch covering her shoulders. She had tiny viles of an unknown liquid dangling on the side of her belt. The opaque glass looked ancient.
The mysterious mare hunched over a mostly-intact corpse, fiddling with a strange tool. The popping in of a cork reached Dash’s ears as she noticed the mare slip another filled glass vile into the hooks on her belt.
The Reaver paused, sensing the presences behind her. She rested her hands on her knees as she slowly straightened her back.
“… You have nothing to fear from me, Strikers. My business here has just finished.” The mare spoke. Her voice was unsettlingly smooth.
“What business is that, exactly? What are you doing here? And where are the rest of your Reavers?” Dash quickly barked, a serrated blade drawn to her side. Its intimidating appearance paled in comparison to the Reaver’s own cleaver-blade.
The Reaver slowly rose to her feet, turning to face Rainbow Dash and Velocity. Her eyes were hidden by the shadow cast from her large hood, and a dark scarf covered her muzzle.
“Contributing to the war effort. I apologize if the smell is strong. It’s just the toxins seeping away. Normal results for any cleansing. As for my comrades, they have already departed. In case you were concerned, those you see here are indeed the caribou who fled from your attack. We were waiting for them.”
“You can lower your guard, Dash. Reavers shouldn’t be hostile, right?” Velocity advised, directing her last words toward the mare before them.
“Naturally.” The Reaver quickly responded.
“I wouldn’t trust any pony who would be capable of something like this,” Dash replied determinedly, “I don’t care what your ‘cleansing’ means to you. It isn’t right. We aren’t here to mutilate bodies or make effigies. We’re here to win the war. That’s it.”
“The only way to win this war is to eradicate their filth. But I doubt I’d convince you of the truth. The Alliance doesn’t see the whole picture. It would be much more effective if it didn’t place so many limits on itself…”
“What does that-”
A sudden commotion echoes from behind Rainbow Dash, coming from the Striker column. Rallying calls could be heard from several pegasi.
“Our time together is at an end. It seems like your fellow Strikers have found something.” The Reaver noted ominously.
With a growl, Rainbow Dash flung herself around, picking up a sprint to leave the field of effigies with Velocity in tow. The Reaver remained in place as the two Strikers departed, only turning to leave once they were out of sight.
Rainbow Dash and Velocity returned to where they had split off from the column, finding the entirety of the Striker unit now running in the opposite direction, heading south. Shouts rang out in the air as they trampled across the fields.
“What’s happening?” Dash called out.
A Striker slowed down to answer.
“It’s the caribou! They were spotted in Cloudsdale Fog! The Captain’s leading us to them!”
As the mare turned to run, Dash drew her swords.
“Come on, Velocity. Let’s go.”
“Wait-”
Not heeding her, Dash zoomed ahead, tailing the last of the Strikers as they made their way down the back roads. Velocity struggled to keep up.
The large field was shrouded in a dense haze, made up of the lingering particles of cloud structure which were obliterated by gravity. Hundreds of homes had turned to vapor when the famous cloud city fell, the core mass of clouds which had held it aloft destroyed by the caribou during the violence on the Day of Rebellions. That day left nothing but the murky field before them.
Cloudsdale Fog.
The fog had persisted for almost an entire year since the Day of Rebellions, still present to mark the grave of the city, and those who fell with it.
Rainbow Dash and Velocity stopped upon a small crest in the hilly terrain leading to the field. The Strikers ahead of them had already rushed down into the thick of the fog, following the lead of Captain Spitfire. There was little sign of the caribou, but based on the shouting from the officers and other Strikers, the caribou were fleeing into the depths of the fog itself.
Velocity put a hand on Dash, stopping her for a moment before she could bolt down the hill.
“Rainbow Dash, wait!”
“We can’t wait, Velocity! The caribou should pay for what they did to Cloudsdale!”
“We need to… We need to be careful! We don’t know what to expect. We shouldn’t… go in there.” Velocity urged.
Dash turned around, noticing a strange shift in Velocity’s usually calm tone. She seemed afraid of something, visibly on edge as she glanced at the fog.
“What, are you suddenly scared of fog?”
“No, it’s just… Poor visibility will make it dangerous.”
“Everything we have been doing so far has been dangerous! And I’m not one to back away from danger! Now come on! I need you!”
Whisking herself forward, Rainbow Dash flung herself into the fog, followed closely by Velocity. Their serrated blades drawn and ready.
The visibility was nearly nonexistent. Weapons clashing, pistols crackling and dying screams could be heard from everywhere all at once. But there was nothing in sight. Though that soon changed.
Pegasi and caribou battling one another faded in and out of the cool haze, the bashing and cracking of metal against flesh emanating in all directions.
Rainbow Dash narrowed in on a glimpse of a caribou, running forward and impaling him from behind with both blades. As she let his body fall to the ground, another Striker appeared from the other side, only seconds away from having shot the very same caribou. Dash flinched from seeing her, though the mare quickly moved on to find another opponent in the fog.
Regaining herself, Dash moved forward again, despite having no sense of direction. She relied on the sounds nearby, swiveling her ears as Velocity watched her back.
A caribou suddenly appeared from behind, swinging his axe wildly at Velocity. She darted to the side with a flap of her wings, giving time for Dash to quickly turn and fire her pistol at the caribou, felling him. Another caribou appeared from behind Dash this time, though he was quickly spotted by Velocity. She leaped forward in a thrust of her wings, slashing her blades across the surprised caribou’s chest. The soldiers here were not as capable as those they previously fought. These were sloppy and rash, flailing their weapons rather than skillfully wielding them.
Rainbow Dash kept her senses honed, trying to predict her enemies’ movements behind the thick shroud.
Her ears twitched at a few muffled steps before her. Dash made out the faint brown color of the being only feet in front of her.
Rainbow Dash leapt forward, and gutted her twin blades into the caribou.
She froze instantly.
The cow screamed for only a second, shuddering as she fell to the grass below. Her tear-filled eyes aligned with Dash’s, showing nothing but fear.
Dash couldn’t stop staring at her, even after her life had gone. Her swords still pierced wholly through the unfortunate cow’s small body. She was a caribou, but the mounting shock and urge to scream in horror filled Dash’s mind. What was a cow doing here?
Her eyes stayed widened as she finally trailed away from the defenseless cow she had killed. Other cows lied dead nearby, caught amidst the brutal fighting.
This had to have been some sort of cruel tactic. The caribou stags must have brought their cows to use as meat shields or distractions. It was the only way Dash could explain it to herself.
“Rainbow Dash. You have to get up.” Velocity spoke.
Dash pulled her swords out of the cow she had slaughtered, her gaze riddled with confusion and loss. She turned her head to Velocity, but her eyes were still glued to the ground.
“I… I… I just killed that cow. How could…”
“We should leave, Dash.” Velocity pressed.
Nodding after another glance to the dead cow, Rainbow Dash followed Velocity out of the relentless fog, stepping over more bodies along the way. They soon regrouped with the rest of the Strikers near the edge of Cloudsdale Fog’s field, on the opposite side from which they had charged.
On this side of the fog, a small patch of forest laid nearby, holding what looked like a large encampment. Tents dotted around the trees, and the site was littered with caribou items and symbols. Several Strikers were already sifting through the camp, under Spitfire’s orders. Some were escorting a group of pegasi that were being held as prisoners in the camp.
Dash didn’t bother to look for a suitable spot to sit down, plopping herself onto the rough ground. Cloudsdale Fog laid in her view, still lurking like a malformed storm.
Velocity took a knee beside Rainbow Dash.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just… I just need to breathe.”
She wasn’t the only Striker reeling from what happened in the fog. Two others had fallen to the ground, trying to erase the memories they had just made. They looked completely shell shocked. One mare couldn’t stop vomiting.
Taking a few breaths, Rainbow Dash composed herself as best as she could. She slowed her panting until her breaths became deep and full.
“I thought we were chasing a caribou unit. Why were there cows in the fog?
“I don’t know,” Velocity replied, “None of those stags were soldiers, not with how they just ran at us like that. I think… I think we may have just committed a massacre.”
Velocity looked back at Cloudsdale Fog. Even after the unrest and slaughter, the fog remained anchored in place. It now served not only as Cloudsdale’s ruins, but as the mass grave of an entire group of caribou civilians.
Velocity stood up as the rest of the Strikers returned from investigating the camp, carrying some salvaged goods and the former prisoners. She met eyes with one of the freed pegasi, who was wrapped in a blanket to cover her nakedness. The mare wearily looked at Velocity with familiarity.
Only seconds later, her eyes locked on to Velocity, widening in anger.
“You .” She mumbled.
“Do you need something?” Velocity replied. The mare marched towards her.
“It was you! YOU DESTROYED CLOUDSDALE!”
In an instant, every pony stopped. The heads of all the Strikers nearby turned to face Velocity and the brazen mare.
“You were there! I saw you run into the core of the city as the rebellion was happening! You sent our home plummeting to the ground!”
“N-no, you’re mistaken. I wasn’t in Cloudsdale when-”
“Liar!” The driven mare cut in, a sharp glare in her eyes.
“I’d recognize that coat and mane anywhere. You were the only pegasus who still had her wings. The only thing you’re missing from that day is the red collar around your neck!”
Other pegasi rescued from the empty camp followed with their own accusations, all casting blame on Velocity. The outcries were joined by growing looks of hatred and malice from the Strikers.
Rainbow Dash had gotten to her feet, garnering Velocity’s attention.
“…Velocity?”
“Dash, please, don’t… Don’t listen to them. I wasn’t a red collar, I-I swear! I…”
A look of fear found its way onto Velocity’s face. Her voice faded to a near-whisper.
“I did- didn’t mean to…”
“GET HER!!” Some pony yelled.
In a flash, the surrounding pegasi descended upon Velocity with mob-like frenzy. Dash was pushed aside as her shock still grabbed hold of her. She quickly recovered, trying to make her way back to Velocity, throwing aside ponies from the ravenous crowd.
The angry Strikers and Cloudsdale survivors latched onto Velocity from all sides, hitting her and pummeling her in a combined rage. She cried out in pain as the frenzy swallowed her whole.
“ENOUGH!!”
Following several shots from her fire dart pistol, Captain Spitfire appeared, parting through the crowd as the Strikers receded. Velocity writhed on the ground, covered in bruises and scratches. Her weapons had been ripped away from their holsters in the attack. What light armor she had protected her from some of the more serious blows, though she was severely dazed and wounded.
“We just achieved a victory, here at the gravesite of our home. We are not going to turn into a bunch of mindless killers now! If the survivors of Cloudsdale are adamant that Velocity was the reason behind our home’s destruction, then we’ll look into it. But not like this.”
Spitfire motioned for two of her Strikers to grab hold of the injured Velocity, lifting her to her feet. They held her onto her arms tightly, only causing her more discomfort as two more Strikers trained their weapons on her.
“Velocity,” Spitfire spoke as she was brought before her, “I’m placing you under arrest in light of these accusations. We’ll find out if you’re truly guilty.”
The angry crowd began to disperse, urged on by the Striker officers to resume their march to Rainbow Falls.
Rainbow Dash remained frozen in place, and watched as the Strikers hauled Velocity away.
Wrath of the Pegasi, Part 3
The Liberation War, Year 1
1 month After Battle of Canterlot (A.B.C.)
Canterlot Valley Campaign, Day 21
Rainbow Dash sat on an old log on the fringes of the Striker encampment, weary from the previous day of travel. The next objective of the Alliance’s campaign stood tall in the distance.
Rainbow Falls, the last caribou stronghold in Canterlot Valley.
It couldn’t really be called ‘Falls’ anymore, due to the lack of it’s once tell-tale cascading rainbows. The rainbow factories had been inactive since the beginning of the Fall, but Dash had a feeling no pony missed the rainbows too much.
Taking the cliff-top town from the caribou would mean the complete liberation of the entirety of Canterlot Valley. Heartland Equestria would be firmly in the control of the Alliance. But like Ponyville before it, Rainbow Falls had to be taken first.
Dash’s mind still dwelled on the events from two days ago. The massacre at Cloudsdale Fog, and the shocking truth about Velocity.
Velocity was a red collar. She destroyed Cloudsdale. But why? It would only make sense to immediately brand her a traitor. She would need no other reason to destroy Cloudsdale than being sympathetic to the caribou. That was the most likely scenario.
Rainbow Dash held her head in her aching hands. She wanted to accept that Velocity could very well have lied to her this entire time. But she couldn’t. Velocity had grown closer to her than any other mare since the beginning of this war in only a few days. Dash could only think of one reason why.
Velocity reminded Rainbow Dash of the past. When life was happy and full of friends. But most of all, she reminded her of her closest friends. The ones who had saved Equestria with her time and time again, before all of this. Rainbow Dash had let go of those friends who had chosen red. But now, knowing Velocity could have chosen red as well, would she just let go of yet another friend?
“Hey Dash. You hear?”
Dash sprung upwards, startled at the Striker before her. “Hear what?”
“The Captain is making a final decision on what to do with the traitor. Wants all of her officers to give their say. That means you.”
The only comfort from the mare’s info was that Spitfire was taking her time. Knowing that the Captain had no issues in executing prisoners, Dash mentally let out a sigh of relief. If Spitfire wanted the opinions of her officers, then maybe Dash could convince her to spare Velocity of the worst.
Dash rose to her feet, pausing before asking the Striker a question.
“What do you think we should do with Velocity? The traitor, I mean.”
The mare crossed her arms. “A lot of us are pretty angry. Me? I think we should just kill her and be done with it.”
“That’s it? Just kill her like that? That would make us no better than the Reavers!” Rainbow Dash argued.
“Well maybe the Reavers have the right idea.” The mare replied bluntly as she walked off towards the camp.
There was a clear difference between killing enemy soldiers to fight for a cause, and outright murdering others. Dash was sure she knew this difference when she was called to fight this war.
But now… she wasn't sure about much anymore.
Rainbow Dash arrived in the center of the camp amidst a scattered sun shower. A large crowd of Strikers, all pegasi, surrounded the small clearing in front of the command tent. As Dash parted her way through the gathering, a commotion stirred.
Two Strikers emerged from the command tent, carrying Velocity by her arms, her wrists bound behind her. Stripped of all her armor and weapons, save for a few ragged clothes, the mare couldn’t even attempt to walk. She looked haggard, her body covered in bruises. Dash only stared as she imagined Velocity’s interrogation at the hands of Captain Spitfire.
With a splattering of rain puddles, Velocity is dropped onto the ground, causing her to cringe from her aching injuries. Her wings were kept folded against her body with a rope harness wrapped around her chest.
The tent flaps parted once more, revealing Captain Spitfire, followed by her officers. They stood at attention nearby as Dash moved to join them, stepping in line.
Spitfire spoke up as the crowd of Strikers grew still.
“… We have finished questioning this mare. She admits to being guilty of treason. She doesn’t deny that she was the one who sent Cloudsdale, our home, to its destruction.”
“I’m no traitor!” Velocity suddenly spoke, now on her knees with her back hunched, “Yes, I destroyed Cloudsdale. But I only did it to prevent the caribou from using it! If our rebellion in the city had failed, they would have used the city against us. They would have stopped Princess Luna from retaking the capital!”
One of the Strikers swung a hardened baton at Velocity’s side, keeling her over into the mud once more. Dash winced from the sight as Captain Spitfire scowled.
“Based on what proof? This is coming from a red collar. A pony who chose to collaborate with the caribou. And a pegasus who was allowed to keep her wings due to her loyalty to our enemies!”
“Please,” Velocity pleaded, her voice now a ragged whisper as tears dripped from her eyes, “You have to listen to me.”
Moving her gaze to the crowd and her officers, Spitfire stood tall. Her hidden eyes, covered by the emotionless black glass of her visor, made her appear frighteningly determined with her judgement.
“Motivation none-withstanding, Velocity still stands as guilty to her actions. And she must be dealt with.”
The Strikers in the crowd bellowed.
“Pluck her feathers!”
“Cut off her wings!”
“Kill her! Kill her!”
“Execution!”
“She’s no different than the caribou!”
In between their shouts, some of the pegasi Strikers tossed clumps of wet dirt at Velocity. They splattered against her, caking her white mane and purple coat with muddy stains.
“Enough!” Spitfire commanded with a hand held high, regaining control of the crowd. “The decision has already been made. For her actions, the traitor will be removed of her wings. Permanently.”
As some of the crowd jeered in agreement, Dash’s eyes went wide.
She could see Velocity do the same, her breath stopping short as her ears flattened.
“Rainbow Dash.”
Dash snapped to Captain Spitfire, who stood before her. All eyes turned to them.
“All of the other officers have already agreed, but I’d like this to be as unanimous as possible. What do you think we should do with this mare?”
An utter silence settled throughout the clearing.
Rainbow Dash looked at Velocity. She saw a terror and pain in her, the tears streaming down more striking than the drizzling rain befalling the camp.
Dash’s thoughts were hesitant and quick. A choice had to be made. Remain loyal to the Strikers she pledged herself to, or to the mare on her knees, who had destroyed her home.
“I…”
BAM! BAM!
Before Dash could utter any more words, pistol shots rang out from nearby, just beyond the crowd of surrounding Strikers. Many became startled and shaken, though the source of the shots quickly revealed herself.
“Who's in charge here?!”
Roughly parting though the dazed Strikers, a female griffin entered the clearing, followed by a cadre of heavily armed griffins. They looked beleaguered and muddied, as though having trudged through a deep trench. Their armor bore the red markings of a famous unit.
“I’m the Captain of these Strikers,” Spitfire responded, turning away from Dash, “Who’s asking?”
“Commander Skyward,” The female griffin replied, venom in her tone, “leader of the Red Hawk Regulars.”
The Commander glowered at Spitfire, fanning out her huge wings in dominance as she approached.
“I want to know something. What in the world gives you the right to disobey direct orders from your own Marshal? Because of your little adventure, the caribou got the drop on us! I lost nearly a third of my troops in that ambush, and the Thunderhead was destroyed! My griffins paid the price because of your utter lack of discipline and your fucking stupidity!”
There was not a soul who stood to challenge Commander Skyward’s words. She took complete authority, ripping it away from Spitfire with her piercing words.
The griffin turned to a nearby Striker officer, who stood next to Rainbow Dash.
“You. Where the hell did your Captain take you?”
“W-we chased a group of caribou into Cloudsdale Fog.” The mare cowered.
As her gaze shifted back, Skyward stepped closer to Spitfire, staring directly at where her eyes would be behind her visor.
“I don’t give a damn if it was your home or not. You wasted everyone’s time by heading into that fog. And if you think for a second that you’ve had it the worst out of everyone, then you have no idea what it was like in my country.”
She turned her voice to all of the Strikers, her fists held tightly.
“Not everything is about you! Get your shit together! All of you!”
The Commander hadn’t even cooled down when she noticed the bound Velocity below her, still kneeling on the wet ground. She motioned for her griffins to help the mare. They lifted her up carefully and released her from her bindings.
Velocity took one last glance at Rainbow Dash, before being escorted out of the clearing by the Regulars.
“Just what do you think you’re doing? You can’t take our prisoner, not after what she’s done!” Spitfire objected, regaining some courage.
Commander Skyward wouldn’t have any of it.
“I don’t give a flying fuck. The blood of my griffins is on your hands. You owe me, ‘captain’. I’m conscripting this pony, and I’m confiscating the cloud rig I noticed among your supplies for her use. We still have to take Rainbow Falls, and I’ll take every single soldier with usable wings I can get. Report to my encampment at thirteen hundred hours sharp for the briefing on the attack. And don’t be late this time.”
With one last glare, Commander Skyward and her griffins departed, taking the shaken Velocity with them. The Strikers were left speechless, still reeling from the Commander’s punishing voice.
Spitfire stood for a few moments, before silently returning to the inside of the command tent. Some of the officers followed, but most remained outside, lost in thought. The crowd dispersed.
Rainbow Dash stood alone, stricken with nothing but regret.
The morning didn’t last very long, the light showers stopping as Dash found herself entering the Red Hawk Regular encampment only a short distance away from the Striker’s own camp. The differences between the two sites were astonishing. Whereas the Strikers had several tents and open areas for supplies, the griffin encampment was that of an entrenched barracks. It was established in only minutes, with barricades and foxholes dotting the area. The camp looked as though it could withstand a siege on a moment’s notice.
Following a still-disgruntled Captain Spitfire, along with a few other officers, Rainbow Dash entered the griffin command tent. There, the griffin Commander and her lieutenants were waiting.
“Glad to see you’re on schedule this time, Captain.” Commander Skyward remarked with a scoff. The Strikers remained respectful as the Commander continued, placing her hands along the edges of the large table before her.
“But the past is the past. Can’t change that. Let’s get to more important things.”
The Regulars and the Strikers circled around an expansive map of Rainbow Falls and its surrounding area, spread out on the table. Commander Skyward began the briefing.
“My scouts have taken a good look at the area. The caribou are dug in at the top of the cliff. They’ve destroyed the railway bridge towards the south, and any other pathways up have been blocked off or demolished. Which means we will have to climb the cliff face using our grapple launchers.”
Commander Skyward pointed to several marked spots and sectioned zones with different labels.
“We will deploy the grappling hooks on these points along the two zones of attack. The Strikers will take the south zone. My Regulars will take the north zone. Just to be clear, we will be heavily dependent on the grapplers. The caribou rangers positioned at the top of the cliff will make short work of any of us who try to fly up. More importantly though, we want to make sure our pegasi friends make the climb as well. We can’t afford to get cocky here.”
The griffins in the room nodded in agreement. Dash felt safer knowing the griffins wouldn’t leave them in the dust.
“The hardest part about this attack will be getting our grapplers to their deployment points. The instant those rangers see us, they’ll hit us with everything they’ve got. And we won’t have much support, with the loss of the Thunderhead. But we do still have one trick up our sleeves.
Alliance Saboteurs managed to stow aboard an Equestrian airship being used by the caribou. It’s already headed to Rainbow Falls, and by the time it gets here, the Saboteurs will have commandeered the airship to support our attack. That should help ease the pressure off of our advance, and to establish a beachhead.”
Commander Skyward straightened herself, looking to the tent’s occupants.
“The goal here is pretty simple. Climb the cliff, eliminate the rangers and move in to clear the town. Once we take Rainbow Falls, the whole Valley is as good as ours. Any questions or concerns?”
The griffins and ponies shook their heads, fully grasping the plan. Spitfire voiced no objections.
“Fantastic. The attack begins in half an hour. Begin mobilizing your troops, everyone. Dismissed.”
As the many ponies and griffins filed out of the room and back out into the camp, Dash stayed a moment. She noticed the Commander remained at the table, staring at the map and its marked operations. Dash cleared her throat.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Striker Officer Rainbow Dash.”
Skyward’s eyes shot upwards, her beak still pointing to the map. “What can I do for you, Rainbow Dash?”
“If you don’t mind me asking, ma’am. What exactly happened to the Thunderhead? That was the cannon used to help take Canterlot, wasn’t it? How could it have been destroyed? I heard it was massive.”
“That’s exactly it,” The Commander replied, “It was huge. And slow. We had to move as slow as the cannon did to keep it guarded. That lack of mobility is how we were ambushed to begin with. The caribou really wanted to take the Thunderhead out of commission.”
“I just don’t get it though,” said Rainbow Dash, “You’re the Commander of THE Red Hawk Regulars. Those caribou should have been nothing to you.”
Commander Skyward sighed, lifting her head away from the table. “The attack was so fast that we panicked. I panicked. I thought the caribou would capture the cannon and use it against us, so I ordered it scuttled. We left its burning husk in a field.”
Dash somberly nodded. The griffins were superior fighters, but it made sense that they had their faults as well. When the caribou properly adapt, like their Legionnaires did, they can go toe-to-toe with even the strongest griffins.
“I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am. And I’m sorry that we weren’t there for you.”
“That’s the first apology I’ve gotten from any of you ponies. It’s good to hear, thank you. Though you can stop calling me ‘ma’am’. It makes me sound old. Commander will do.”
“Sorry. One more thing, Commander. Is… Is Velocity ok? The mare you took.”
Commander Skyward scratched the grey feathers on her head. “Oh yeah, purple-coat. She’s either still with the medics or having herself fitted by the armorer. She was pretty shaken, considering you were all about to practically chop off her head from the looks in your eyes. What bugs me is that your Captain was more willing to punish a pegasus who still has her wings instead of make use of her in the field.”
“The Captain was going to remove her wings on the charges of her having caused the destruction of Cloudsdale.”
“I’m aware. Velocity told me her side of the story. I’d say she’s one of the strongest ponies I’ve ever met. She made a decision which had enormous consequences, and she's managed to live with that choice for so long. If she hadn’t destroyed Cloudsdale, the caribou would’ve won a long time ago.”
Though she remained mostly calm, Dash was completely surprised by the Commander’s view. Whatever the exact story of Velocity was, it was enough to gain the admiration of a renowned griffin commander. Griffins don’t often give out their respect so easily.
“Your Captain needs to realize there are bigger things at stake in this war than petty revenge. Your country, my country, and every other country in the caribou’s sights are still in danger of being destroyed. And we’ve still got a long way to before the caribou are finished. No matter what shit happens to us, we have to remember this.”
“I understand, Commander.” Dash nodded.
“I’m glad. You should rejoin your superiors before they leave. The attack will begin soon.”
With a respectful bow, Rainbow Dash departed from the Red Hawk Regulars command tent, stepping outside under the cloudy skies. She too a few glances around, seeing nothing but griffins going about their duties, preparing for the battle ahead. No sign of any purple-coated mare.
Dash rubbed her forehead tensely. She would have to find Velocity after the battle. With the hope that they both would survive what’s to come.
No glorious horn or massive battle cry preceded the charge. Commander Skyward simply turned to the troops before her, pegasi and griffins, and gave them a confident grin. Waves of pegasi and griffins followed her as she started to run, approaching the daunting cliffs ahead. But first, they had to cross the large fields before them.
Rainbow Dash recalled the fields beneath her boots. Rainbow Falls was known to hold all kinds of events and gatherings, from the Equestria game tryouts to the annual Traders Exchange. Though it held little use to the caribou, aside from acting as a place to store things or to host their own perverted forms of the games. Though in this war, its value was clear.
It didn’t take long for the caribou entrenched atop of the cliffs to notice the attackers coming towards them from the fields below. In a loose flurry, a hail of crossbow bolts began raining down from the emplacements. The projectiles riddled the ground, sporadically layering the open fields of Rainbow Falls with sharp spines. Several bolts found their marks in unfortunate pegasi and griffins, but the withering fire failed to slow the charge.
Dash and her group kept moving, still heading straight towards the steep rocks. Bolts struck all around them, whisking through the air with whistling crescendos.
From the very edge of the cliff side, there stood a large stone structure that was built on outward supports, culminating in a large mezzanine which extended outward above the fields. The building served as an airship dock, and was considered the focal point of the assault.
Atop the mezzanine lied a piece of caribou artillery, a trebuchet of sorts. Dash had never seen one in Equestria before. Only the caribou Legionnaires had use for heavy artillery. This particular piece must have been brought down into Equestria as the war had begun.
With a swing and rear of its weight, the trebuchet hurled a ball of fire towards the fields. It careened right towards the Alliance troops, bouncing along the ground and rolling, lighting its path ablaze. Most of the troops were able to see it coming, though it obstructed a huge chunk of the field as its fires spread.
The mad dash across the fields felt like hours, but it was over in only minutes as Rainbow Dash and several other troops reached the cliff wall. The Red Hawk griffins among them got to work, driving thin, pole-shaped tubes into the ground, their open nozzles aimed skywards. The barbed grappling hooks were loaded into the tubes, coils of rope securely attached.
With a yank of their cords, the tubes launched the sharp grappling hooks high into the air, arcing downward upon the edges of the cliff. The hooks found purchase on jutting crags and wired fences as the caribou rangers struggled to aim steep enough to continue assailing the Alliance forces.
Double checking their ropes with a few tugs, the Strikers and Regulars sent one chosen trooper up each of the dozens of ropes to secure moorings at the top, thereby preventing the ropes from falling. This was a safety tactic employed by griffins when fighting in mountainous terrain, and was often seen as the greatest show of courage and fearlessness for those making the climb.
Naturally, Rainbow Dash was the first to volunteer among her group to secure the moorings.
As the grappling hook dug itself behind a large chunk of rock directly below the huge mezzanine, Rainbow Dash latched onto the rope and began scaling the rock wall with a steady pace. She had several iron stakes slung over her shoulder to use in securing the hook once she reached the top.
Commander Skyward’s prediction had been correct. While the caribou bolts were numerous and deadly out on the open fields, once the majority of the Alliance forces were at the cliffs, their line of sight and ability to fire was severely diminished. What few bolts still being shot through the air only flew over Dash’s head. The battle may very well be won the once the Alliance forces were able to reach the top.
As Dash continued up her rope, a sudden vibration in the air shook the entire cliff. A percussive sound followed, coming from the sky above.
Rainbow Dash stopped and looked upwards to the dense clouds. The airship that Commander Skyward had mentioned emerged from the cloud cover. It looked like the Alliance Saboteurs had managed to keep the airship on course.
But something was terribly wrong.
With a screeching and twisting of wood and metal, the airship listed at a dangerous angle. Fires were fuming from the rigid airship’s hull, spewing smoke from its sides. It steadily made its way towards the cliff, diving straight towards the mezzanine dock.
Dash watched as the airship lumbered past and collided violently into the mezzanine directly above her, crushing the trebuchet and enveloping the dock in a torrent of fire as it exploded.
Chunks of flaming debris from the doomed airship rained down, endangering many soldiers still climbing cliff face. Among the deadly debris came tiny embers drifting down, carried around by the winds. Some embers stuck to Dash’s rope, spawning a fire which began to eat away at the top of the rope’s frame.
Dash’s first instinct was to jump, but her rational thought quickly reminded her that she would only fall to her death, with no wings to save her. She only looked up in fear as the rope finally gave way.
Shutting her eyes tightly and preparing for the spine-shattering smack which would come, Rainbow Dash tried to think of happier things as gravity pulled her into a free fall. But her thoughts were cut short.
Something fast tackled her in mid-air, plucking her from her fall. Dash instinctively grabbed on to her savior, in shock at what just happened. She immediately suspected a griffin had leapt from another rope nearby to save her. But as she opened her eyes, she saw purple feathers fitted to a cloud rig.
“Hang on !” Velocity warned as she banked right, turning a loop from her rescue of Rainbow Dash.
As Dash tightened her grip, Velocity headed straight for the very edge of the cliff, a flurry of caribou bolts narrowly missing her. With her teeth gritted, she reared herself and Dash forward, flapping her wings to slow their landing. The two somersaulted onto a narrow strip of grass.
Dash panted, glancing at her surroundings. Velocity had brought them near where Dash’s hook was anchored, right next to the now burning mezzanine.
It was now when Rainbow Dash noticed Velocity’s changed appearance. She wore fitted griffin armor, having several of the typical large plates and pauldrons removed to make her more lightweight. The old cloud rig Dash had discovered days ago was fixed upon her back, its wire frames aligned to her wings. She had been given two new fire dart pistols, and to replace her serrated blades, she received a single, heavy falchion, which was not akin to any griffin designs Dash had seen before. The serrated blades used by Strikers were griffin made, and most of their swords were serrated in some manner. The falchion in Velocity’s possession was smooth and glossy, as though it came straight from the forges. Its blade was wide for a sword of its size.
Rainbow Dash let out her thoughts.
“Velocity, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you!” She said, raising her voice to speak above the crackling flames of the destroyed airship.
“Not now, Rainbow Dash. We’ve got more important things to do!” Velocity assured, motioning her head towards the mezzanine.
The two Strikers gathered themselves, climbing upon the stone rubble from the collision to make their way to the top of the mezzanine. Most of the large platform was splayed with burning debris from the airship’s frame and the destroyed trebuchet. From what remained of the airship’s deck and the bodies of ponies and caribou, it looked like there was a struggle while the airship was being commandeered, which likely resulted in its loss of control.
“Commander Skyward mentioned that this airship was meant to help establish a beach head. If there are no survivors, then it’s up to us to secure the dock.” Dash breathed
Velocity nodded. “Then let’s get to it.”
The crumbling and ruined mezzanine led to a larger clearing, which hosted a swath of supplies being used by the caribou defenders. Caribou stags and their few traitor stallion allies scurried to and fro, delivering bolts and other weapons to the rangers defending the cliff. A few were in the process of hauling their supplies away from the structure, as it became much more precarious after the sudden collision of the airship.
The enemies remained oblivious to the two Strikers. The element of surprise was theirs.
“I’ve got your back.” Rainbow Dash said.
“And I’ve got yours.” Velocity replied.
Side by side, their weapons drawn, Rainbow Dash and Velocity steadily walked forwards into the clearing, garnering the attention of some of the nearby caribou.
Beating her wings once, Velocity took a huge leap forward, slashing her falchion downwards upon the first caribou she saw. The blade cut into his shoulder, taking him out of commission as Dash stood at a distance, taking a few shots at incoming caribou with her fire dart pistols.
After expending her loaded ammunition, Dash drew her serrated blades, moving to block a caribou’s axe as Velocity drew a pistol in one hand. She shot at another caribou charging, the blast erupting from the pistol’s muzzle with incredible force. It sounded twice as more powerful than Dash’s older pistols.
Rainbow Dash spun sideways, dodging the caribou’s axe and planting her blades into his side. Another caribou came around, aiming straight for Dash. She leapt into a somersault as Velocity swung her falchion with two hands over her, landing a crippling blow upon the caribou.
The remaining caribou and traitor stallions became hesitant. The two Strikers cohesion with one another was making them unstoppable, as though they were two soldiers acting as one. Coupled with the additional arrival of pegasi and griffins who had applied their moorings and ascended the cliff, their situation became dire.
The enemies occupying the airship dock began to fall back, retreating to more defensive positions waiting for them towards Rainbow Fall’s town buildings.
Rainbow Dash and Velocity continued to clear out the caribou within the dock, making their way to the upper levels. Most of the enemies were defeated, save for one caribou who made his way to the rooftop in a vain effort to escape.
Following him up the stairs, Dash and Velocity cornered the lone and unarmed caribou, nearing the edge of the rooftop. He hesitantly exchanged glances between the approaching Strikers and the dizzying fall behind him.
Velocity reloaded a cartridge into her pistol, keeping it at the ready. She looked to Dash to make the next move.
“I’m no murderer. If you surrender now, we’ll let you live.”
“No, y-you’re… You’re crazy. There’s no way I’d surrender to a mare. I couldn’t… You’d just kill me anyway…”
The caribou looked over his shoulder at the drop behind him. One slip, and he would plummet to his death. His deep voice waivered from defiance to uncertainty.
“Not if you have any kind of military information we could use.”
Following Dash’s words, Velocity leaned in towards her, whispering. “Dash, you know there’s nothing stopping Spitfire from executing him after he tells her everything he knows.”
“That’s why we are giving him over to the griffins. Commander Skyward could use the intelligence. It’s the least we can do to make amends for not being there when she needed us.”
Rainbow Dash spoke up again to the caribou.
“I don’t want to kill you. Or make you kill yourself. You caribou value life in your own way. Don’t throw that value away when you have the chance to keep living.”
Taking one last look at the edge, the caribou relented, moving away from the ledge and towards the two Strikers with his hands held above his head. Velocity kept him at gunpoint as Rainbow Dash moved to glance at the view of Rainbow Falls.
Now gathered atop the cliff in full force, the combined mass of Strikers and Red Hawk Regulars swept through the town, brushing aside the last defenses of the caribou. Rainbow Falls had been taken.
The battle was won.
It had taken some convincing, but Rainbow Dash held true to her word. The caribou prisoner she and Velocity had taken atop the dock rooftop was handed over to Commander Skyward. He pledged to provide his full cooperation and knowledge, in exchange for his life to be spared. Surprisingly, the griffins were tolerant of this, which Dash was grateful for. Captain Spitfire wouldn’t have shown the same mercy.
As Rainbow Falls was fully secured, Rainbow Dash found Velocity sitting near the old train station. She was resting above the ruined tracks, her legs hanging off the side of the concrete station platform.
Rainbow Dash joined her, taking a seat on the cold concrete.
“Nice work out there. We make a pretty good team.”
“Thanks.” Velocity replied, sounding morose and tired instead of thankful.
Rainbow Dash paused, her eyes fixed to the ground. She soon lifted her head back up to Velocity.
“I’m no mind reader, but you look like you could use some pony to talk to.”
Velocity sighed, turning to meet Dash’s eyes.
“I never was in hiding during the Fall. I… chose red, after seeing what the caribou and the stallions were doing to black collars. I was miserable the whole time. The only reason I was allowed to keep my wings intact was because my caribou owner had a secret thing for feathers. I wasn’t forced to wear wing sheathes, but I couldn’t leave his home in Cloudsdale.
When Princess Luna was gaining strength, I overheard some caribou talking about their plans for Cloudsdale. They were trying to find out how to manipulate the city’s mobility and weather creation, so they could use it as a weapon to crush any kind of future rebellion. If they succeeded, then they could have had the means to stop Luna from ever reaching Canterlot. I couldn’t let that happen.
I escaped from my owner on the Day of Rebellions, and headed to the core of the city. I wanted to disable the city’s ability to move, and I thought it operated like an airship’s engine. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I tampered with the controls, and sent the entire city plummeting from the sky.
I don’t know how I survived. All I know is that a lot of ponies didn’t, because of my mistake. I was lucky to have come across a group of ponies who were fleeing to Haven, and I joined them. We made it to Haven, and ever since Luna’s victory I joined up with the Strikers, trying to find some way to redeem myself. I hadn’t told a single living thing about what I had done.”
A silence followed Velocity’s confession. It was interrupted by a loud pat on her shoulder by Rainbow Dash.
“Feel better?” Dash asked, echoing Velocity’s own words from the day they met.
“Heh… Yeah. I’m feeling better. You some kind of therapist?”
“Nope. I just learned how to listen.” Dash said with a smile.
The two chuckled. Dash was happy to feel that friendly warmth radiate from Velocity once more. It persisted as Velocity’s smile disappeared, a curious look taking its place.
“Can I ask you something, Dash?”
“What’s up?”
“You hesitated when Spitfire asked you for your decision. What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say no.”
“You’d throw away your loyalty to your superior just like that?”
“I don’t ‘throw away’ my loyalty. I give it to those who have earned it. And if I don’t think they deserve it, I take it back. I don’t care if it would’ve been against orders. You’re my friend. And I don’t leave my friends hanging.”
Velocity smiled, a brightness in her eyes.
“Thanks, Dash. That means a lot.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The two gazed out at the view before them. The burning wreck of the airship had been successfully put out, though a large plume of cooling smoke still seeped from the mezzanine dock. Alliance troops began work on establishing usable trails and crane elevators along the cliff side, with the help of griffin fliers.
“So now what? I’d imagine it would be bad sticking around with Spitfire’s Strikers after what happened.”
“I was thinking about that,” Rainbow Dash said, “I’m going to put in a request with the higher ups to transfer out of this unit. I want to form a small unit of Strikers, one that can be called on by other Alliance units when they need help. Something like…”
“Pocket Strikers?” Velocity suggested.
“Yeah! Exactly.” Rainbow Dash grinned, the new title already sticking.
“Well, you can count me in.”
“Are you sure? You’d probably be making the drinks for everyone.”
Velocity laughed. “Are you kidding? I’d give anything to get my old bar back. I’d be more than happy to make drinks for anyone. But besides that… I’d rather stick by a friend who’s got my back. If you lead, Rainbow Dash, I’ll follow.”
With a rustling of her feathers, Velocity extended her wing out to Rainbow Dash. Dash scooched over with her own featherless wing lengthened, completing the wing-bump.
Though the war was far from over, and would likely be strewn with more hardships ahead, things just got a little bit brighter.
The loyalty they shared would see them through.
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The present day
2 years After Battle of Canterlot (A.B.C.)
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Liberty forgot how tedious research could be. Sifting through the documents, letters, and memoirs made piecing together the whole story a real challenge. At least the piles had become much more organized now.
From across the table, Spike seemed fazed, holding his forehead in his claws.
“Sweet Celestia… Did all of that really happen? That was… brutal…” He mumbled, still staring at the papers in front of him.
Liberty nodded, setting aside a stack of papers on her side of the table. “If you went back to the sites of the battles around Ponyville and Rainbow’s Peak, you’d see the scars.”
“Wait, Rainbow’s Peak?” Spike asked, “Don’t you mean Rainbow Falls?”
“When the Canterlot Valley was fully secured, the ponies who were settling back into the Rainbow Falls wanted to call it something new,” said Liberty, “The Consulate approved renaming the cliff town Rainbow’s Peak. It was more fitting for a town which didn’t have any more falls, and the name was a tribute to the ponies and griffins who liberated it.”
Spike bobbed his head, his stiff neck cracking. He kept his attention on the documents before him, still trying to fathom the story.
“I still can’t believe all this. I never thought any of this could be possible in Equestria. The Fall, Cloudsdale, this war, the massacres. It’s too much…”
A sudden knock on the study room door was followed by a twisting doorknob. A Guardian of the Sun poked his head out from the hall, looking to Liberty.
“Sorry for the intrusion. But there’s a mare calling herself Lightning Dust here to visit. Should I let her in?”
Liberty perked up in surprise. “Lightning Dust? You can let her in. Thank you.”
As the Guardian held the door open, an aqua-coated mare with a bright yellow mane entered, dressed in rugged and durable clothes suited to a working mare. Liberty rose to meet her.
“Hey. Sorry if I’m showing up all of a sudden, but I got a request from the Bureau to come see you guys. Something about you doing research on the Striker unit I used to be a part of?” Lightning Dust sniffed, pulling on her jacket to stretch out her wings. They bore a full set of feathers, some longer and more unruly than others.
“Yes, we were reading about Rainbow Dash’s career as a Striker. We just finished reading a particular memoir which mentioned the time you spent with her.”
“Oh yeah! Rainbow Dash,” Lightning Dust broke into a grin, “She saved my life. Even when I had been a jerk to her she still saved me. I owe her a lot. I’m Lightning Dust, by the way.”
Smiling, Liberty took Lightning Dust’s hand, shaking it. The pegasus’ grip was firm, though her hand trembled. Liberty noticed it persist as they released each other.
“I’m Liberty, leader of the Guardians of the Sun. And this is Spike.”
Lightning Dust stepped over to greet Spike similarly as he left his chair.
“Hey. Princess Twilight’s dragon, right? I guess you knew Rainbow Dash too.”
“That’s right. I don’t think Rainbow Dash spoke much about you, though.”
Lightning Dust chuckled sheepishly, seemingly against her own nature. “I’m not surprised. I wasn’t the nicest pony when I first met her.”
The Lightning Dust here was different from her depiction in the Striker files. She seemed to have gained some humility during her experiences, and perhaps became a touch more mellow after recovering from her injuries.
“Hey, do you guys have a bar or something in this town? I’m staying here for a whiles and I need to know where I can get a good drink.”
Maybe not as mellow as Liberty thought.
“There’s no bar here, but there is a café inside the caves. We can head over now if you’d like.”
“That works. Let’s go.”
Lightning Dust turned back to the door, only to stop and whisk around again.
“… I have no idea where I’m going. Maybe you should lead.”
Liberty nodded with a smile, turning to Spike behind her. “How about it, Spike? You could use a break from all your hard work.”
“That actually sounds really good.” Replied Spike.
The brisk air of Haven changed from blue to a deep orange as Liberty led Spike and Lightning Dust inside the expansive caves of Haven. As it was on the outside slopes, the innards of the tunnels were under extensive construction, with working crews adding in new stone supports and laying walkways over the old paths used long ago. Navigating the scaffoldings in each corridor was much easier during the evening hours, when the workers have finished their shifts.
They arrived at the entrance of a cave hovel, the opening covered by a pair of red swinging doors. A sign etched into a wooden plaque dangled from two wires above the entrance.
Star Glow Café
Liberty pushed past the doors, stepping into the brighter lights of the café. Magic lanterns lined the walls and the ceiling, shedding light upon the small roundtables and patio-style chairs. Though the café felt like it would be more suited to an al-fresco diner, it fit well within its underground atmosphere.
A menagerie of ponies and other residents rested at the tables spread about, relaxing to the soft melody of a record player in the corner. A hint of jazz and strings mixed with the lovely voice of a mare, casting out her woes of a rainy day towards the pegasi crews of the sky. It was an old track, one Liberty had heard many times in her childhood. Knowing an old favorite was salvaged from the Fall brought a smile to her lips.
“Any reason why it’s called Star Glow Café?” Spike asked, following Liberty and Lightning Dust to the empty table.
“It’s named after one of the Seven Sentinels, a noctral named Star Glow. She actually ran this section of Haven when it was just a mess hall for the soldiers and refugees living in Haven.” Liberty enlightened as they sat at the table.
“I bet by the time this war’s over they’ll be renaming everything in Equestria after them.” Figured Lightning Dust.
Spike tilted his head. “Why’s that?”
Lightning Dust stared back, as if Spike had made a bad joke. “Because they’re dead. They were killed during the Battle of Canterlot. Died like the heroes they were.”
“Oh,” Spike muttered, folding his fan-like ears, “Sorry.”
As Lightning Dust waved it off, a waitress popped out from the nearby kitchen door, a colorful palette of stains on her working apron.
“Good evening, miss Liberty! What can I get you and your friends tonight?” chirped the unicorn mare. As Liberty looked to her companions to make an order, she noticed Spike’s eyes glance at the tiny nub of the waitress’ sheared horn. He quickly looked away.
“You got anything hard?” Lightning Dust asked, laying her elbows along the rim of the table.
“No cider, if that’s what you were hoping for. But we do have a noctral drink that’s popular in Umbra. Made of mangos and some other strange fruit. It has a pretty good kick.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Anything in particular, Spike?” Liberty asked as the waitress turned to them.
“Water’s fine for now.”
Liberty holds up two of her fingers. “Make it two, please.”
“Coming right up.” Replied the mare, briskly making her way back into the kitchen.
“I’m… really surprised. People here don’t seem to mind I’m a dragon. Aren’t they worried?” Spike said, speaking as though he was a tourist in some faraway nation.
Liberty smiled. “Ever since the beginning of this place, the people living in Haven have been some of the most tolerant and accepting people you’ll ever meet. Plus, you’re arrest was based on the concerns of only a few paranoid individuals. In reality, the average pony would only be worried about dragons if they started attacking us.”
As she finished, the waitress returned with their drinks, setting them down on their table. “There you are. Would you like anything else?”
“We’re fine for now, thank you Bubbly.”
“Uh…” Lightning Dust muttered, “Could I get a straw?”
Abiding by the request, the waitress procured a straw from one of her various pockets and handed it to Lightning Dust.
“Thanks.” She said, taking the straw and placing it in her glass as the waitress departed. She carefully gripped her glass with both of her shaking hands, making sure she had the straw in her mouth before lifting it slightly. Anyone could tell how the noctral beverage’s taste must have been, judging on Lightning Dust’s reaction alone. She shook her head as though she was just splashed with a bucket of water.
“Are you ok?” Spike asked, only now noticing Lightning Dust’s trembling hands.
The pegasus lifted a finger and tapped her temple, smiling proudly. “Concussions can have a lot of aftereffects. I got hit in the head pretty hard when we were taking Ponyville. According to the medics who took care of me, that blow to my skull left me with hand tremors. As far as I know, it’s a permanent thing.”
Liberty knew how lucky Lightning Dust was. If the blow to her head was any more powerful, it would have killed her instantly.
“What have you been doing since your recovery, Lightning Dust?”
“Nothing spectacular. I’ve been working in the Reconstruction Program as a surveyor. As much as I miss being a Striker… I’m glad I don’t have to be out there anymore. I never imagined war to be as brutal as it is. All of the fighting and the suffering… Never seems to end when you’re out there. It never helped that we have groups like the Reavers burning fields and leaving effigies everywhere they go either.”
At the very mention of the word, Liberty noticed a change in Spike. He rubbed his head, recalling their previous research.
“I’ve… been thinking about those Reavers that were mentioned in Rainbow Dash’s story. I just… can’t believe anybody could do things like that. Shouldn’t the New Monarchy put a stop to them?”
“They should be stopped,” Liberty remarked, sounding more sullen as she stared at the reflection of her gold eyes in her glass. “But so long as the caribou are still around, the Reavers will have free reign to do whatever they want. If Luna or the Consulate actually had some foresight, they would make disbanding the Reavers a priority. But the war comes first, regardless of the consequences.”
Before a silence could settle among them, Lightning Dust cleared her throat.
“Homicidal cultists aside, let me tell you about this one time I had to help corral a manticore on one of our building projects…”
As Lightning Dust went into her story, Liberty was grateful for the change in subject. Her thoughts stayed with her, however. If any attempt to return Equestria to its former existence were to be made, the Reavers would have to go. There would be no place in a better future for a group like that. A group obsessed with cleansing through bloodshed. Even if they were just targeting the caribou, they were still a threat to everyone.
The notion suddenly reminded Liberty of a mound of horrifying memories she had locked away not soon after making them.
The Reavers weren't the worst group out there. There was one other that was far worse. One which could, if successful, bring about a whole new Fall. A Fall which would make the caribou’s enslavement of Equestria seem like nothing.
Even underground, the morning birds chirped away to herald the Sun. It was safe to say that Haven was one of the few places where birds enjoyed nesting within caves close to the surface. Liberty remembered back when Luna had made Haven what it was. Many local animals had taken refuge within the natural fortress just as the ponies did. It was a sudden occurrence, but not a surprising one. The fauna would rather hide away with their old custodians than live in a neglected ecosystem. Many of those animal refugees still called Haven their home.
Flipping herself from the covers, Liberty let out a long stretch. Her time with Spike and Lightning Dust in the Star Glow Café had ended cheerfully. The noctral concoction Lightning Dust had gulped down through her straw had made her the most gleeful pony in the entirety of Haven. Not soon after did Liberty and Spike carry her out and to a room in the town’s inn. She'll likely sleep in today.
Dressed for the morning hours, Liberty stepped out of her chambers and made her way to the town hall study room, bidding good morning to the Guardians and townsfolk she passed. At the door to the archives, she found Spike awaiting her.
“Good morning.” Liberty said, herself bright and beaming.
“Morning. I don’t think I’ve ever slept that well in years.” Spike yawned, stretching himself from arms to tail.
“I’m glad,” Liberty pushed open the door, “Let’s see if any more documents have been sent our way.”
As they entered into the study room within Haven’s archives, a mare browsing through the bookshelves turned in their direction with a startled squeak. The coconut-colored mare with a sky blue mane appeared dressed for cold weather, a red scarf wrapped warmly around her neck and tucked underneath the folds of her brown trench coat. A large messenger bag was slung across her shoulder.
“Oh! I’m sorry if I disturbed your study room. Your guards said I could wait in here for when you showed up.”
“It’s alright. Are you making a delivery for the Bureau?”
“Yes! Though I’m not from the Bureau, exactly. I was asked to bring you the records on Operation Crescent.” Said the mare as she removed her messenger bag and laid it on the table.
“Operation Crescent? The liberation of Manehatten?”
“That’s right. I actually was in Manehatten during the operation. It was-Oh! I’m so sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Coco Pommel. I work for the Consulate’s Civil Administration Branch in Manehatten.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Liberty shook her hand, “You can call me Liberty. I’m the leader of the Guardians of the Sun. And this is Spike.”
Spike thought the mare’s voice was incredibly familiar. “Nice to meet you.”
Coco smiled. “You too, Spike. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Apparently a lot of ponies have. It’s hard to believe ponies still remember me.”
“It’s actually not too hard to believe. I learned about you from the stories Rarity told me.”
Spike shot upwards. “Wait, Rarity? When? Where?”
“Aren’t you aware? She was the one who was in charge of Operation Crescent. It was her Saboteurs who freed Manehatten.”
“Spike’s been out of the loop for a little while.” Liberty mentioned. She received a nod from Coco.
“Oh. Right. The house arrest. I know you didn’t deserve that, Spike. Rarity was really upset when she heard about it, though I’m sure she’d be delighted to know you’re free again. Anyways, maybe we should get started on these documents? If you don’t mind having a third study partner, I can help you with getting to the more critical parts.”
Liberty nods. “That would be great, thank you Coco.”
The three took their seats at the large table as Coco Pommel began taking out the organized folders, filled with reports, time-stamps, and reconnaissance photos of Operation Crescent.
“The operation had come to a peak at this particular date, during a very important mission at a place called; Horizon Towers …”
The Liberation War, Year 1.
6 months After Battle of Canterlot, (A.B.C.)
Operation Crescent. Day 73.
Rarity always considered herself a down-to-earth pony. She was genuine and sincere. Others always came before her. And though she could be self-indulgent at times, her thoughts and intentions were always for the betterment of those she loved. She had learned as much from her best friends, back when life was good.
The old faces of those five friends flashed in her thoughts. All of them smiling, happy to see her. More than ever, Rarity wished she could find them all and simply hug them. To feel their warmth and their love.
But now was not the time for wishes. Now was the time for lies.
Rarity looked into the pristine mirror. The pony who looked back was the mask she wore. A sheared horn, recently filed down to curb its growth. A pampered mane, catered to retain an alluring gleam. Fur kept brushed and clean after every night, highlighting her elegant curves and inviting breasts.
And lastly, a bright, red collar with golden laced trim clamped firmly around her throat.
She put a hand to the collar, tracing the tailored marks with her fingers. The metal ring laying against the crease in her collarbone was warm from her body heat.
Her reflection frowned. Rarity hated seeing herself like this. She had already spent years as a false supporter of the caribou, despising herself for the things she had to do to others under the name of a cruel leadership. The most she had ever been able to do was allow her sister, Sweetie Belle, to escape into the woods one night. The punishment Rarity received the next day nearly broke her.
Though the collar on her neck brought those dreadful memories back, Rarity knew how to get by. She reminded herself of two very important things.
The collar was temporary. And that among her façade, she was not alone.
Taking a minute to test various smiles of seduction, Rarity straightened herself upon the dresser’s stool as the nearby door opened.
A stallion emerged, clothed in a prim and taught suit fit for the upper class of pre-Fall Manehatten. His mane was gelled back and rife with the scent of expensive shampoo, while a small pair of glasses with no real use rested on his snout.
Rarity had known this stallion for a long time. She knew little about him as a pony, but being under his training and crop was the equivalent of ‘knowing’ a stallion in this place. He gripped a leash in his left hand, though made no moves towards Rarity. She rested her hands upon her thighs as she turned to him.
“It looks like our time together is at an end, my pet. Are you ready to meet your new owner?” He asked plainly. There was not a tone of malice in his words, nor was there much care.
“Yes, master. The caribou captain, right?” Rarity cooed, her voice innocent and lofty. She had grown used to inflating her fake accents in recent times. Though naturally she was very good at manipulating her levels of speech.
“He’s not a captain. He’s the Primus. The leader of the very force which keeps Manehatten safe. I thought I had told you this before.”
“I’m sorry, master. I forgot.”
“Bah, it’s no matter. We don’t train mares to remember many things anyway. I’m glad you have made yourself presentable. Unlike his subordinates, the Primus prefers his mares to be of the utmost purity. I have no doubt that you will please him.”
Rarity smiled as the stallion hooked the leash to her collar’s ring. She obediently rose and followed her master out of the door, and towards the sounds of a lavish nighttime party.
In the eyes of her male masters, Rarity was one of the best trained slaves in Manehatten. Her golden laced red collar signified her status among her peers. Because of this, she never required restraint unless wanted by her dominant. For the current occasion, her master had fastened a pair of red cuffs upon her wrists. A light, golden chain linked the cuffs together, though it was long enough for Rarity to rest her hands at her sides.
Rarity was brought out into the luxury hall, one of many smaller sections of the sky-high city penthouses of Horizon Towers. Stallions and caribou stags of the Elite mingled about, accompanied by their entourages of red collared mares, all willing servants to their whims. Though the air was heavy with perfume and cologne, it did little to hide their bilge-water stench. Even before the Liberation War broke out, Manehatten’s fresh water reservoirs were poorly managed under the caribou. By now, they’ve been nearing depletion, forcing the Elite to use the harbor water to bathe themselves. In some ways, it made them even more putrid smelling than their slaves, who were rarely permitted to bathe at all.
The Elite differed from the usual patriarchal society of the early Fall. There was never any qualms with enjoying pleasure out in the open at any given time, but privacy was a much more coveted state among these privileged males. While the local caribou didn’t care for it much, the Elite stallions would often times take their willing slaves to a ‘dark room’ to spend their intimate time. Many of the males who felt the need to release would command their pets to service them while in the sanctity of these rooms.
The Elite of Manehatten were a fickle and snobbish group. They only tolerated mares who were red collars, and created an intricate system with help from caribou supporters to classify red collars into sub-groups. Hence why the most revered slaves, such as Rarity, are accented with golden features. Of the population of black-collared mares in the city, they were never brought into gatherings such as these until they were properly house-broken, so to speak. Purple collars, while rarely produced in the city, were often times thrown into empty alleys or into open sewers when deemed unsuitable.
As she was led through the hall, Rarity passed by many more attendees. One stallion, wearing a beige trench coat, stood along their path.
“Mr. Ballpoint?” He asked, stepping forward. Only inches away from Rarity’s side.
“Yes?”
“A letter for you. From your receptionist.”
“Ah, I’ve been expecting this. Thank you.” Mr. Ballpoint replied, taking the letter and slipping it into his vest pocket for later.
The other stallion nodded respectively before taking his leave, moving past Rarity and heading in the opposite direction.
Rarity made no sound, glancing back at the umber-brown stallion as she was led forward. His orange-red eyes glanced back from beneath the pointed fringes of his silver mane. A tucked away smile formed on his lips as his eyes met Rarity’s, before he disappeared behind another door.
Rarity returned to her facing position. She clenched her fist gently, keeping the tiny key which was slipped to her hidden in between her fingers.
Their short journey through the luxurious halls and elegant living rooms came to a close as Rarity and her master stopped in the midst of a recreational room, populated by several Elite males and their pets. Rarity’s new owner was already before her, having risen from his seat.
The caribou was unique among most of his kind, being more slender than stocky in build. Instead of the usual brutish demeanor and carefree disposition, this caribou carried a strange charm with him, appearing as though he was not the type to get himself dirty. He dressed like a diplomat, bearing his decorations and the sigil of the ‘peacekeeping’ force which held Manehatten; The Cabal.
This one caribou was the whole reason Rarity was here.
“Greetings, Primus Asmund. I hope you have been enjoying your night.”
“I am, thank you Mister Ballpoint. And is this who I think it is?”
Rarity took a step forward, smiling lustfully at the Primus. He frisked her with his eyes alone, while bearing a polite smile.
“Indeed it is. I hope that this gift will be a sign of the continued partnership between the Manehatten Elite and the Cabal. Undoubtedly, without your protection, none of us would be here.” The stallion remarked humbly as he presented Rarity’s leash to Primus Asmund.
The caribou kept his eyes on Rarity a moment longer before processing the stallion’s words, instinctually taking the leash’s end in his hand.
“She is a fine gift, thank you. Speaking on behalf of the Cabal, I could not be more grateful for your cooperation. Keeping this city orderly and in the right hands is of the utmost importance, especially during these times of unrest.”
“Absolutely,” said the stallion, “Please enjoy the rest of your evening, Primus. Let me or any of my assistants know if you require anything.”
“I will, thank you.”
As swiftly as the stallion departed, Primus Asmund tugged lightly on Rarity’s leash, motioning her to walk beside him. They exited the occupied lounge and moved through a lonely hallway. As they did, the Primus began to speak. His voice was articulate and full of charisma.
“I’ve known Mister Ballpoint for some time now. He’s renowned for his abilities in training mares, and even cows. He’s used his skills for us ever since we arrived in Equestria. Back when things were peaceful, when we didn’t have a war threatening to ruin everything… That aside, he has told me that you are his greatest creation. And that no other mare is quite like you.”
“I have been trained to tend to your every need and obey your every command, master. I hope you find me to your liking.” Rarity stated, allowing herself to flutter her words, yet remembering to be humble.
“I already do. Though I would like to have a sample before taking you home.”
Opening the door of a nearby dark room, Asmund brought Rarity inside, leaving the door open behind him.
The dark room, like many others, once used to be a private apartment available to the wealthy. Now, it served as an extravagantly sinister play room. A large bed was centered in the room, flanked by various shelves filled with sex toys and racks perfect for restraining any mare in any number of ways. The lights installed were deliberately dimmed down to provide a preferred atmosphere, though this feature was mostly favored by the stallions of the Elite.
As he flicked on the lights of the dark room, the Primus retrieved a long and durable chain, hooking the clipped end onto the lighter chain binding Rarity’s wrists. He took the other end and looped it through a wide ring hanging from the ceiling, easily reaching it with his height.
He pulled the chain taut, hoisting Rarity’s arms up with it. The ring was high enough to lift Rarity up off the floor, leaving her standing on her tip-toes. She let out a soft moan in delight.
The Primus whispered into Rarity’s ear.
“I have my tastes. And you fit them. But I have to see if you can truly service me. Don’t let my mannerisms fool you. If you can’t take the roughest I can give, then you aren’t worth my time.”
Rarity slowly cracked a smile.
“Of course… but I have my tastes as well, Primus Asmund …”
K-K-CLICK
The dark room’s door suddenly closed. The muzzle of a fire dart pistol pressed against the back of the Primus’ head.
“And you fit none of them.”
The new presence spoke up.
“Hands in the air. Back away.” The silver-maned stallion spoke plainly, donned in a familiar trench coat.
Rarity took her key and removed her cuffs, letting them hang from the chain as she regained a solid footing on the floor.
Asmund held his hands up, stepping away as instructed. The stallion unflinchingly kept his pistol’s end firmly against the caribou’s skull.
“You’re not one of Ballpoint’s mares.” Asmund breathed.
“I never was to begin with, no. Despite the credit he receives, any good actress could fool him. We’ve been waiting for this moment, Asmund.” Rarity replied, using her normal tone of voice.
“So then you’re the Alliance spies I’ve been hearing so much about. The Cabal knows about your presence in the city.”
“Saboteurs, actually. Though spying is indeed part of the job. Let’s get straight to the point, shall we?”
Rarity looked Asmund straight in the eyes, her own expression turning utterly serious.
“The schematics for the harbor wall section. If you please.”
Asmund smiled. “I don’t have them, if that’s what you were hoping for. I’m not as dimwitted as you might have expected.”
Shouting and boots stomping rumbled from beyond the door, signaling the impending arrival of unexpected company. Cabal soldiers.
Before Rarity could speak another word, the stallion struck Asmund’s head with the butt of his pistol, knocking him out cold.
“Corbeau! I wasn’t done questioning him!” exclaimed Rarity.
The stallion looked up as he hurriedly scoured Amsund’s body. “Judging by the stampeded of caribou coming down the hall, I’ve figured we’re out of time… Dammit, he was right, he doesn’t have them.”
“He knows where the plans are. We should take him with us!”
“Have you forgotten about our own escape? I’m only carrying one of you, and by Celestia it’s going to be you!”
“Wait, wha-AA!”
Moving swiftly, Corbeau scooped Rarity with one arm and punched the other through the nearby window, using his concealed gauntlet to clear out the sharp glass. A cold wind gushed in, giving Rarity shivers.
“I do hope the escape plan doesn’t consist of plummeting to our deaths.” Rarity queried, retaining a calm demeanor despite the situation. Corbeau shared her composure.
“The escape plan was to take the stairs. This is plan ‘B’.”
Taking only seconds to align himself, Corbeau carefully and skillfully aimed his gauntlet at a building rooftop adjacent to their tower, clutching his fist to activate its unique mechanism. A burst of compressed air launched a small grappling hook from the side of the gauntlet, trailing behind it a lengthy and durable rope line. The hook found purchase on the faraway rooftop, allowing Corbeau to detach his end of the line and anchor it to the top of the window sill.
Corbeau tested the rope line with his gloved hand before grabbing hold, keeping his other arm around Rarity. She clung to him tightly as they jumped, leaving the window just as the Cabal soldiers burst into the room.
Corbeau’s gloved hand loosened to give them more speed as they zip-lined to their destination, gliding down underneath a crescent Moon. Though their landing was cut short as a Cabal soldier cut their anchor from the window. The line snapped loose, dropping Rarity and Corbeau several feet above their landing point. Had the caribou soldier cut their line seconds sooner, and they would have missed the rooftop entirely.
Moving instinctually, Corbeau tried to place himself first so that he could take most of the impact, but their speed caused them to careen away from each other as they landed on the flat roof. While Corbeau only received a few scratches and the wind knocked out of him, Rarity’s landing wasn’t as clean.
“Ahh…ghahhh… Oh dear…” Rarity panted, placing a hand on the back of her left thigh. The sting forced her to recoil, the fur and skin of her leg severely scraped.
Corbeau quickly moved to help her, noting her raw skin slowly seeping blood from below her white fur. He shed his trench coat and closed it around Rarity’s shoulders as she began lifting herself up.
“I’m sorry, I should have taken that fall for you.” he asked, guilt in his tone.
Rarity shuddered from her injury, straining herself to keep a smile on her muzzle. “We didn’t have much time to think… Don’t blame yourself. We should get back to the Keep as quickly as possible. I can walk.”
Taking Corbeau’s hand, Rarity got to her feet, regaining her balance. The rough ground prodded at her exposed feet, and as she stepped, her wounded leg wobbled.
“Maybe I should carry you.” Corbeau offered. Rarity let out a sigh, her smile weaker.
“If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t. I was a firefighter once, remember?” Corbeau replied with an assuring grin, carefully lifting Rarity into his arms. She winced from her injuries as they made their way towards a nearby stairwell, knowing that danger could still be close behind.
Like many of Equestria’s grand cities, Manehatten was a shadow of its former self, though only in the eyes of those who wished it free. Under the control of the stallion Elite and their caribou Cabal protectors, Manehatten was an autonomous entity, cut off from the world by a massive wall built by the caribou, similar to those which once encircled Canterlot and the Crystal Empire. The wall and its defenses would have made any attempt by the Haven Alliance to advance on the city result in a costly siege. Thus, Alliance leaders, with Princess Luna’s advice, took the outlying areas of the city, trapping the caribou held metropolis inside Alliance controlled territory. The task of taking the city, labeled as Operation Crescent, would fall to the infiltrator units of the Alliance, known as the Saboteurs.
Manehatten was a nigh-impenetrable fortress, save for one subtle weakness. A flaw in the section of wall built through the city harbor was the key to allowing the city to be liberated, but that flaw’s exact details were unknown. Rarity’s endeavors to find the plans specifying the harbor wall’s weakness have ended in failure after failure. With another failed mission to add to the list, the hope of ever finding the plans had begun to fade.
But that kind of thought did nobody any favors. For now, Rarity pushed on through her pain as Corbeau carried her past dim streetlamps and empty sidewalks.
“Good so far. This alley should be the one.” Corbeau said.
The two rounded about a street corner, heading deep into a barely lit alleyway between two massive buildings. The strict alley winded further downward, splitting into multiple forks at a cross-section. A maintenance hole lied tucked away in a nearby corner, covered by a trashcan with unintelligible graffiti.
Corbeau stopped at the maintenance hole, setting Rarity down on her feet beside him. Reaching into one of his holsters, he drew out his folding blade, a signature weapon of the Saboteurs. He gave the thin, unassuming rod a whisk, unfurling it into a lightweight yet sturdy short sword. He stuck the edge of the blade in a subtle and specialized slot near the edge of the maintenance hole’s metal cover. Only a few seconds passed before the cover flipped open automatically.
Snapping his folding blade back, Corbeau offered Rarity his hand, lowering her steadily into the blackness below. Her bare feet dipped into the ankle-deep water of the darkened sewer, giving her a chill as Corbeau soon followed. The maintenance hole cover slid back into place only seconds later, leaving them in pitch black.
The dark didn’t last for long as Rarity managed to find the oil lantern stashed nearby, checking its oil and lighting it with a creaking twist of its switch. She held the lantern up, its light spreading out just enough to envelop both Rarity and Corbeau.
“Thank you for being on time back there, Corbeau. I can’t tell you how relieved I was to see you in that hallway.” Said Rarity, pulling the edge of Corbeau’s trench coat with her free hand to cover herself. It was more for warmth than anything. She had grown used to being naked for extended periods of time while under cover.
“I didn’t want to be late by even a second. You’d been holding up that guise for months. It’s about time you got to be yourself again.”
Rarity exhaled. “I couldn’t agree more. I don’t think I’ll really ever get a chance to pull off something like that again in this city, not after that calamity.”
“It’s not your fault. Our intelligence was scarce to begin with. Even if Asmund didn’t have the physical set of schematics on him, he knows where they are. We still have a chance to get them.”
“But now he knows what we’re after. He’ll do everything in his power to thwart our attempts at finding them.”
“Then we’ll have to stay one step ahead of him.” Corbeau smiled, taking the lantern from Rarity and holding it out towards the path ahead, “Once we get to the Keep, we can get those scrapes looked at. And trade in that collar for your clothes. Do you need me to carry you, or…?”
“No need, Corbeau. I’ve already tired you out enough for tonight.”
Guided by the shimmering light of their lantern, the two Saboteurs traversed the foul sewers, treading along the thick and dirty water channeled at the base of the tunnels. Manehatten’s complex system of sewers had been around ever since the city’s founding, making many of the stone channels nearly centuries old. The Alliance Saboteurs had made full use of them to move about the city undetected. Though the sheer amount of tunnels and passages made navigating them a chore.
The sewers didn’t make it easy for Saboteurs to enter Manehatten in large numbers. Most of the exits and entrances were connected to the rivers or the bays, which were constantly watched by the Cabal. Very few instances arose when the Saboteurs could receive reinforcements or supplies.
The watery sewage drew higher on Rarity and Corbeau’s legs as the stone channels sunk deeper. Soon, the tunnel passage had turned into a flooded waterway.
“Here,” Corbeau stopped, giving the lantern to Rarity, “Hold this.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if you-oww!”
Crouching forward while backing up, Corbeau stuck his hands behind him and wrapped them around Rarity’s thighs, heaving her on his back while doing his best to avoid aggravating her leg.
“Sorry. The water’s going to get a bit deeper up ahead. We don’t want your wounds to get dirtied by the sewage.”
“Thank you, Corbeau.” Rarity said, curling one arm around Corbeau’s shoulders while holding up the lantern with the other.
Corbeau chuckled. “Actually, I just wanted to have my coat back.
Rarity rolled her eyes with a smirk. “How chivalrous of you.”
Trudging through the knee-deep waters of the sewers, Rarity and Corbeau finally reached their destination; a service stairwell door marked with a bright blue circle. Two dials sat above the door knob, marked with several random numbers.
As Rarity was set down, she returned the lantern to her partner and began fiddling with the dials by memory. Soon after, an audible click signaled the successful input.
Rarity steadily pushed the heavy door open, revealing a set of stairs leading upwards. The climb was long and aching, but soon enough, they were at their final stop; The Keep.
The stairs abruptly ended at a small platform, hosting another door. Instead of dials, this door had a small viewing slot.
Rarity patiently knocked on the door, prompting the slot to open. A mare’s eyes appeared, widening upon seeing the two tired Saboteurs.
“The Lady’s back!” said the mare, quickly closing the slot. A series of locks unlatched from the other side, allowing the door to be swung inward.
Rarity and Corbeau entered the room as the watchmare secured the door behind them. The room was a common sight for Rarity; an equipment and briefing space used by Saboteurs preparing to venture out into the city. There were many others like it, and it was only a small part of what was the headquarters of the Haven Alliance’s Manehatten Saboteurs. More specifically, the 2nd Cell Saboteurs, led by Lady Rarity herself.
Several medical ponies waiting for their arrival rushed to Rarity and Corbeau. One immediately began wrapping a light cloth over Rarity’s wound.
“Let’s get you over to med ward, Lady Rarity. You must’ve taken a nasty fall.”
“It’s really not that bad, honestly. No need to rush-”
“‘Ey.” The medical mare interrupted, her Manehatten accent thickening her words, “You say that every time you get yourself hurt. Med ward. Now.”
With bandages tightened around her upper thigh and along portions of her waist, Rarity rested on an old cot in the Keep’s medical ward. She had only just woken up from a quick nap, though as she glanced at the clock, she realized her nap lasted much longer than she wanted. It was already morning.
Rarity stretched as she slipped out of the covers of the cot. Noticing her awake, the head of the med ward staff approached her, a unicorn mare sporting a long coat. Though it was a muddied brown, it was the closest thing to a doctor’s lab coat to be found. She handed Rarity a small mug filled with a soothing tea.
“I hope you still like green tea. It’s still the only kind we have. We literally have tons of it.” Said Doctor Novelle with a joking tone.
Rarity smirked, taking a gentle sip of her tea as the doctor pulled up a stool next to Rarity’s cot.
“I’m not entirely fond of it, but it will do. Though if our operation takes any longer I may just throw the boxes into the harbor.”
Novelle let out a chuckle. “I don’t think any of us would mind. Tea’s pretty bad for your teeth anyway. Now, let’s take another look at your leg.”
The doctor briefly examined Rarity’s healing injuries, lifting her left leg and bending it forward and back. She stopped as Rarity tried to hide a wince, and instead scooched up to sit beside her head.
“Your leg checks out ok, but try to avoid any daring chases for the next few days. How’s your neck feeling?”
“Much better. Thanks to you, of course.”
It indeed felt good to be rid of the red collar Rarity had to wear for months, and she was ever grateful for the skills of Doctor Novelle. Though she wasn’t the only unicorn with a usable horn in the Saboteur HQ, the good doctor was the only one who had spent time studying caribou rune inscriptions, and learning how to manipulate them using magic. It was a lot harder than most would believe, and currently the only runes the doctor could modify were those used in collars.
“Well, before I became a doctor, I always had a passion for linguistics. Just a coincidence that our conquerors happen to center most of their feats on runes.”
After finishing her examination of Rarity, Doctor Novelle completes the checkup. She gets to her feet.
“You’re all good to go, Lady Rarity. Corbeau and the Keeper are waiting for you just above the Veil floors. Once you’ve gotten your clothes that is.”
“Thank you kindly, Doctor Novelle.” Rarity said, shaking the doctor’s hand before exiting the room, only to quickly double back to borrow a patient robe to cover herself. Even though the clothing storage was only one floor below, Rarity would rather not spend time walking around in nothing but her undergarments.
Taking the stairs down from the sixteenth floor, Rarity entered under through a doorway labeled ‘15th’ and found her way to one of the many rooms dedicated to storage lockers, filled with extra clothing and working attire for general use. Most were either brought into the city through stealthy means or salvaged from dumps and pits that weren’t set ablaze.
Rarity opened one of the many lockers, revealing a small collection of clothing she had kept for use while in the Keep. Her Saboteur gear was kept on a separate floor, the twentieth along with the armory. She sifted through the space and patiently suited up in her standard leading attire; Utility pants and boots with a warm top and a short frock coat. The coat was a bright grey, not a color Rarity was fond of, but she didn’t complain. It didn’t look so bad when she wore the sky-blue scarf she had found among some riff-raff on the streets.
Content with her appearance, Rarity set out to leave the locker storage room, only to have nearly collided with another pony, who was carrying a huge pile of extra clothing within her arms.
“Let me help you, darling.” Rarity said instinctively, taking the top portion of the clothes, which revealed the head of the mare holding them. An aqua blue pair of eyes partially covered by a similarly shaded mane gasped.
“Oh, Lady Rarity! Thank you so much. I wasn’t expecting to, uhm… see you here.”
“I had only just left the medical ward. I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Oh no, sorry. My name’s Coco Pommel. I’m just another refugee that was saved not too long ago, while you were on that mission. I’ve been, uhm… meaning to say hi to you. Manehatten’s my hometown.”
“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you, Coco Pommel. I’m Rarity. Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
Coco Pommel smiled sheepishly, “I uhm… I heard that you were once a fashion designer, before the Fall. Those years ago, I was starting out here in Manehatten as a seamstress. I was able to get a job, though the boss I had wasn’t very nice. Maybe… You could teach me a bit of what you know once this is all over?”
The thought was a comforting one. Rarity hadn’t truly designed a piece of fashion in years. Ponies nowadays didn’t need excessive colors or elegant fabrics. If it covered you and kept you warm, it was all you needed. Though Rarity was hopeful that once Equestria was healed, the appreciation for the cultural significance of fine clothing would return.
Hearing Coco Pommel ask for her teaching in the future brought a little warmth to Rarity’s chest.
“I would be delighted to teach you, Coco. When the time is right, that is. For now, don’t be afraid to let me know if you need help with anything. I’m sorry to cut this conversation short, but I must meet with Keeper.”
“Ok. It was great meeting you.” said Coco, waving goodbye as Rarity departed for the elevators.
The old yet functional elevator came to a mechanical halt as it reached its destined stop on the seventh floor of the building. The doors slid open, allowing Rarity to walk out onto the open floor. The red carpet and cream-colored walls were reminiscent of the upper levels of a hotel lobby.
Just ahead of her stood Corbeau, leaning slightly against a large railing. Beside him was the Keeper, who turned around as Corbeau noticed Rarity approach. The grey coated and black maned mare wore a deep blue great coat, coupled with a white scarf. She was completely outfitted in her Saboteur equipment, with pouches lining several belts and a holster strapped to her leg holding a fire dart pistol. Another set of loose holsters along her waist held two folding blades.
“Welcome back Rarity. We’ve missed you.” Octavia stated, smiling as she removed her hands from behind her.
“Thank you very much, Octavia. You don’t know how happy I am to be back here.”
“I could fancy a guess,” she gently grinned, “Corbeau informed me of your mission’s outcome. I’m sorry that our intelligence was not as reliable as it should have been.”
Rarity frowned, letting out a sigh of defeat. “The only pony to be blamed is myself. But I won’t wallow. We’ll just have to keep looking. How has the Keep been faring?”
Octavia turned back to look over the railing, prompting Rarity to do the same. The ledge led to an opening which gave view to all of the six floors below, known as the Veil floors. The view was blanketed by a dark canvas, which hung from several anchors on the railings of the seventh floor. It was made of a type of fabric which acted like a two-way mirror. Anyone looking down could see the activities of the lower floors, but anyone looking up would only see a ceiling. The special tarp was only one crucial part of keeping the Veil floors separate from the rest of the floors above. The other part were the ponies.
Rarity could partially make out ponies on the six floors below. They were mostly red collared mares, with a few stallions here and there and even some caribou stags. The ponies at the lobby entrance at the very bottom were nothing more than tiny dots.
Octavia spoke up. “Our base has been operating nominally. Supplies are numerous enough to sustain both our refugees and our personnel for the time being. From what the numbers indicate, however, we may not have much time left before the freshwater sources we have dry up. Not to re-iterate the pressing need to acquire those plans, but… We’re on the clock. Now more than ever.”
Rarity did her best to not show any stress. “How about the Veil floors?”
“I presumed that you’d want to hear about them from Mr. Haybale himself. He knows more about the intricacies of… well. The work that keeps us safe. He should be here any moment.” Octavia said.
True to the Keeper’s words, a nearby service stairwell door clicked from the other side, opening to reveal two ponies. One was an older stallion, with a blue coat and a mustard mane and eyes, wore a pristine suite and a bright red bowtie. While it was no high-class Elite elegance, it gave him enough manly charm to pass as a respectable owner of a caribou-approved establishment. A bushy mustache graced his lips, as smooth and swirly as his combed mane.
Beside him was a much more familiar sight, a mare hastily putting on a light shirt to cover her bare self. Her green coat and mane stood out amongst the red floors and dull gold of the hotel walls, as did her pink eyes. She appeared as she was removing her red collar, and replacing it with a pink flower to go in her mane. The very same pink flower that Rarity had given her back in Haven.
“Rarity!”
“Meadow! It’s wonderful to see you, darling!” Rarity said, embracing her friend.
“You too! I’m sorry I’m not dressed very well.”
“Not to worry. You look exquisite with that flower, as always. I do hope you and the others on the Veil floors have been managing alright. I feel awful for having to put you all through that business every day. Even though as important as it is to keep up the guise of the Keep.”
“It’s ok Rarity.” Meadow assured, “We were all red collars at one point. We’re used to this, and we don’t mind it. Now that we can do things like this and for a better cause, we manage just fine. Also thanks to Mr. Haybale for taking good care of us.”
“Quite right,” the well-dressed stallion spoke, “Per your instructions, Lady Rarity, every pony is being kept healthy and well-treated. ‘Meadow’s Mares’, as I believe the unofficial title is, are a tough bunch. They can take it all and then some, in the most modest terms of speaking.”
“I never doubted them for a second.” Said Rarity, winking to Meadow before turning back to Mr. Haybale, “And the Hotel?”
“Ah, yes. The Haybale Hotel remains one of the more subtle, but widely appreciated red collar brothels among the lower-class communities of caribou in the city. Most of the Elite, when bored, devote their attention to the more populous Mane Fair Hotel up north. This gives us plenty of breathing room, suffice to say. No suspicions have been uttered about anything but empty and decaying rooms lying above our six Veil floors.” Mr. Haybale confidently stated. He placed his hands behind him before bowing respectfully to Rarity.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lady Rarity, I must continue to attend to the lobby on the first floor. When you’re ready Meadow, please return to your duties.”
Mr. Haybale strode back towards the service door. The stallion’s confidence showed clearly in his stride, and reminded Rarity how fortunate they were to have Mr. Haybale on their side, even if he was at times a bit smug. It was thanks to him that the red collared mares on the Veil floors could continue to conduct the activities of a brothel while keeping a high morale.
Meadow smiled at Rarity. “Have you heard at all from Sweetie Belle yet?”
“I’m afraid not. She’s been worrying me sick ever since she decided to venture out on her own. She’s a smart filly, but… well I guess I can’t call her a filly anymore. I just hope she and her Crusaders stay safe.” Rarity let out a sigh. She thought of Sweetie Belle’s insistent face just before running off to find her friends and spread her hope. Her courage was admirable, even if it meant she would throw herself in harm’s way.
“Me too. I’ve been hoping to be able to see her again. After all she did for me back in Haven, I feel like I have to make it up to her, and to you too.”
“You don’t have to make it up to us, Meadow. What you do now for all of us is crucial to our objectives. I couldn’t ask you, or any of the mares down below, to do any more than that.”
Rarity’s words gave Meadow a bashful smile. Though she suddenly perked up upon realizing how much time she had been spent in their conversation.
“Eheh… Speaking of that, I should be heading back down. Maybe we could talk again when I’m not on shift?”
“Of course, darling! I look forward to it.” Rarity replied with a grin.
Bidding Rarity goodbye, Meadow headed towards the service stairwell door, putting away her pink flower and clamping her fake red collar around her neck. She gave one last wave before shutting the door behind her.
Wishing the best for her friend, Rarity returned to Corbeau and Octavia, happening in on a discussion.
“Have I started a trend? I don’t remember seeing most of the Saboteurs wearing long coats like mine.” Corbeau asked.
Octavia chuckled. “It was either you or me. Though I’ll happily take the credit if you don’t want it.”
“No way! You already have a reputation for being a famous musician. I need something to my name to make it fair. ‘Corbeau; The stallion who inspired the new line of Saboteur wear and tear.’”
“Quite.”
The Haybale Hotel Tower had three main elevators. Though they were somewhat outdated, they were operationally sound and provided easy transportation between floors. The primary elevator was larger than the other two, and was uniquely situated in a glass frame while being built into the tower’s face.
Rarity entered the main elevator with Corbeau and Octavia, the ornate doors sliding shut as Octavia pushed on the glossy button under the number twenty two; the floor containing the Keep’s primary command center. After buckling and whirring, the elevator had slowly begun its climb.
After passing the ding of the fourteenth floor, which contained the secondary command center, the wall opposite the elevator door became brightened. Outside, the massive sight of the Manehatten city scape shown. The caribou’s mighty wall could be seen clearly, the closest segment being the most critical part to the Saboteurs’ operation; the harbor wall, drawn like a line across the water.
Another large structure, Brooke’s bridge, stood in shambles in the misty distance. Like the other bridges which spanned over the surrounding rivers, Brooke’s Bridge was only half of its former self. To isolate the city, and gather enough steel to use in their wall construction, the Cabal tore down the Manehatten side of the bridges, leaving them incomplete. Sometimes, Saboteur watchers could see Alliance observation posts set up on the other side, using the more stable parts of the ravaged bridges. They served as a small reminder that there were friends on the outside.
Octavia held her hands behind her. “Our small contingent at the harbor wall reported in today. The caribou in their vicinity are still unaware of our operations. Once we have the plans, we’ll begin planting the explosive batteries where necessary.”
“I fear their safety may be at risk. With my mission’s failure, Asmund and his Cabal know what we’re up to.” Rarity noted disdainfully, catching a concerned glance from Octavia beside her.
“What would you suggest? Should we pull them away from the harbor for now?”
“Tell the Saboteurs there to cease any scouting or probing of the harbor area. I only want them to be active once we have the plans. The outpost they’re occupying should be well enough hidden that the Cabal doesn’t discover them.”
Octavia nodded. “I’ll make sure they get word. How long should they stay hidden?”
Rarity paused, he gaze lowering.
“Until further notice. To be utterly honest, I was hoping to be able to have the plans by now. I’m not sure what to do next. We’ve tried everything.”
Octavia kept her sights on the scenery before them. The elevator dinged once more, coming to slow halt as the twenty second floor had been reached.
As the doors slid open behind them, Octavia placed her hand on Rarity’s shoulder.
“I know things look dire. But there’s still time. Something is bound to go our way.”
Rarity laid her own hand on Octavia’s. “You’re right. I suppose I’m just feeling tired, rather than defeated.”
“Believe me. We all feel the same.”
The day had gone by in a flash. Rarity had almost forgotten what it was like to have friends around her. For the previous two months, she had to endure the charade of being a slave in order to acquire the plans needed to finally liberate this city. But those two months were wasted, and now she was back to square one.
The meeting on the twenty second floor with the Saboteur officers on the next course of action turned up little that could reassure Rarity. No intelligence had pointed to any possible location for the harbor wall plans, nor any possible opportunities to gather any new intelligence. While the Elite and the Cabal continued to run the city, less and less possible infiltrations seemed plausible. The risk to send more Saboteurs as undercover slaves had grown too great, and Rarity could not bear the thought of losing any more ponies than she had to. It seemed that there was a new wall, one which blocked any further attempts to find what they were here for.
Following the fruitless meeting, Rarity and Corbeau decided to get some fresh air on the twenty sixth floor, only a few down from the rooftop. This was the most heavily modified of the former hotel’s floor, having an entire section of the rooms completely gutted and re-built to house a powerful system of heavy grappling launchers connected to a series of coiled zip-lines. The many specially built windows could fold to the sides and allow the launchers to shoot their grappling hooks to an abandoned tower a few blocks away. The zip-lines set up would allow for a hasty deployment of Saboteurs towards the harbor outposts in case of emergency. The floor was so open and altered that, with the right additions, an airship dock could possibly be installed in the future.
Feeling the night-time breeze ripple through her mane, Rarity walked onto the nearby balcony which extended out beside one of the grappling launchers. She sat down on the ledge beside Corbeau and pulled out a tiny filing kit. Corbeau glanced to her as she parted her mane with one hand while she held a file in the other, steadily applying it to the stub of her horn. The scratching noise of the ridged file rubbing against what was technically Rarity’s bone gave Corbeau a slight chill.
“… I’m sorry that you have to do that.” Corbeau breathed, looking back down over the ledge.
“I don’t know what you mean by that… No one’s forcing me to do this… It is simply… Making sure… that I have an appearance to keep… when I need it.” Rarity replied. She finished keeping her horn’s growth checked, putting away her file and looking at Corbeau.
She noticed his empty stare.
“Is everything alright, Corbeau? You seem worried.”
“I’m sorry, it’s nothing.”
“Corbeau. I know that look. Whatever’s the matter?”
Corbeau sighed. “… I was just… thinking about my wife.”
Rarity cocks her head with pleasant surprise. “You never told me you were married. What’s her name?”
Corbeau locked his eyes on his twiddling thumbs. “Her name’s Jasmine.”
“Jasmine. What a lovely name. Ohh, I’d love to hear more about her, darling! Perhaps talking about her would make you feel better?”
“Alright,” said Corbeau, “She’s a bat pony. Bright yellow eyes as full as the Moon, slate-grey coat and a mane as dark as the deepest ocean. She always wears it in a ponytail to the side, and always with a snow-white bow at the back… Heh… It’s almost as if I can see her right now.”
“Go on.” Rarity beamed.
“We met while I was a history teacher, after I stopped fire-fighting for a while. I took my class on a field trip to Umbra, which was a rare occasion. We toured a museum, and that’s where I saw her for the first time. She led the tour, and many of my older students wouldn’t stop teasing me about how I kept staring at her.” Corbeau chuckled.
“Where is she now? Is she safe?” Rarity asked, concern in her voice.
“Yes, thank Celestia. We got married in Umbra, and she stayed there with family while I made a brief trip back to Equestria. It was just my luck that the day I went back was the day the caribou showed up…”
Corbeau frowned, a look of pain in his eyes.
“… It only took a second. One second… And just like that, I didn’t care about her anymore… Like I had just decided that there was no such thing as love…”
Rarity realized why Corbeau was suddenly so troubled. In this time of strife, the mares had always been treated first and foremost as the victims of the caribou. And in most regards they were, considering the caribou’s strict patriarchal lifestyle. But little light was shed on the troubles of the stallions who had regained their conscience after Princess Luna had destroyed the corrupted Crystal Heart. Many stallions were unaware of their own actions, and had to live with being identified as part of the enemy, even though Luna had been successful in her attempts to re-forge trust between stallions and mares.
Corbeau was one of these stallions. For those three years of the Fall, he had followed in the caribou’s shadow. And on the day he regained his conscience, he was horrified at what he had done. Rarity recalled the day she first found him, trying to act as a caribou-allied stallion in order to help free a group of captive mares, only failing and finding himself tortured. That was the day Rarity rescued him, and recruited him into the Alliance Saboteurs.
Knowing that he still had a wife who didn’t know about his actions made his feelings even clearer.
“She’ll understand.”
“How?” Corbeau asked, his voice quivering, “How could she possibly understand? She’ll see me for the things I did and leave me. I wouldn’t blame her at all. No mare in their right mind would trust a stallion who had spent three years raping every mare he could find.”
A second of silence passed.
SLAP
Corbeau nearly tumbled over from the sudden contact of Rarity’s palm to his cheekbone. He looked back while rubbing the reddened spot, noting that Rarity possessed not a single hint of malice or anger in her expression. She appeared determined and patient.
“What you did… was not you. If she loves you, as much as you love her, she will understand.”
Corbeau only stared back into Rarity’s eyes, though soon he nodded his head, accepting her words.
“I… I guess it’s a lot harder than I thought. To remind myself that I’m not blinded like I was during the Fall. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about how it felt. On the Day of Rebellions, when I realized everything I had done… I want to find redemption. I need to.”
“You already are,” Rarity said warmly, “By helping not only me but every pony here in this city. A lot of what we have done here in Manehatten would not have been possible without you. And don’t forget how many times you’ve rescued me now. How many has it been? Four times?”
Corbeau let out a long laugh, grinning. “No, no, it’s only been three times. That business we had in Bridleway doesn’t count.”
Rarity could see an improvement in her friend’s mood. He kept his smile on him, sighing in content as Rarity got to her feet.
“How about we go spend some time inside. It’s getting frightfully cold out, and I don’t want you to get sick while we have our work ahead of us.”
Corbeau nodded with a smile, and took Rarity’s hand.
Receding from the cool open air from the twenty sixth floor, Rarity and Corbeau arrived at the upper observation floor, number twenty eight, used mostly as a recreational place for resting Saboteurs or bored refugees. It was relatively filled tonight, with ponies who couldn’t sleep or just wanted to find the time to spend with friends, playing cards or reading.
The elevator doors slung open again as the car returned, revealing two mares. One was a noctral, with deep yellow eyes and a purple mane. She was outfitted in a set of equipment which was not often seen in the city.
The other mare with her was an earth pony with a ruby-red coat and mane. Her green eyes had frantically begun to scan the floor, looking desperately for something.
“Mom? Mom, are you here?”
Some ponies in the floor looked to the young mare calling out, a few about to ask if she needed any help. But they stopped as one pony, an older mare with a pale red coat, had stood up, shocked to hear the voice.
“Ruby?”
“Mom!!”
In a flash, Ruby tightly embraced her mother. Both of them began to cry in joy at seeing one another. Some of the ponies in the room clapped in celebration.
Looking at the sight of a reunited family brought to Rarity the memories of Haven, back before there was an official war, or Alliance for that matter. When she arrived at that hidden sanctuary and found Sweetie Belle, Rarity could not describe the joy she felt. Thinking of her younger sister now made her worry for her safety even more. But it also reminded Rarity of the pony who had kept Sweetie Belle safe; Princess Luna.
Even though she disagreed with Luna’s actions in the final moments of the Battle of Canterlot, Rarity still treated the leader of the New Monarchy with utmost respect and gratitude for saving her sister. Even if that same leader could not find a way to save her own sister.
Rarity glanced to her side, catching a shallow sigh from Corbeau. The sight of the two red-tinted mares brought a weak smile to his snout. Rarity tried to think of comforting words to give him, but her thoughts were interrupted as the noctral mare who accompanied Ruby approached her.
“Lady Rarity? Night Wing of Princess Luna’s Night Sentinels. I’ve arrived with a team on orders from Haven Alliance command.”
Rarity bowed her head politely. She was always courteous to any ally she met, but she knew well about the Night Sentinels and their clandestine nature. They only take orders directly from Princess Luna. Any other source of orders is an outright lie.
“Hello, Night Wing. A pleasure to meet you. Were you that mare’s escort?” Rarity asked, looking to the red mare and her mother. Corbeau had gone over to the two, asking them if they needed anything.
Night Wing groaned. “Not at first. My team and I were to come and deliver an additional supply of battery charges for your use on the harbor wall. Though while we were on our way in, that crazy mare over there shadowed my team and nearly got us all caught before we even made it into the city. She rambled on about how a mare named Liberty told her to go find her mom after saving her from the Crystal Empire.”
Rarity’s ears shot upwards, recalling the familiar name. “Liberty? I don’t ever recall her mentioning saving a mare of her description. That aside, I’m thankful that you allowed her to enter the city with you.”
Night Wing scoffed. “She didn’t give me a choice. But as much as I hate to admit it, it’s thanks to Ruby that we were able to stumble on something that you might find useful. Your Keeper mentioned on our way up that you’re still after the harbor wall plans.”
Rarity’s attention peaked, listening intently to Night Wing’s next words.
“We snagged an enemy stallion and a collared mare belonging to him on the way in. He’s a liaison for the Elite and the Cabal. Turns out he knows exactly where the harbor wall plans are, and how to get them.
In short; you’re going to have to crash a pretty big party.”
The Liberation War, Year 1.
6 months After Battle of Canterlot, (A.B.C.)
Operation Crescent. Day 75.
Rarity had a plan.
With Night Wing and her Sentinels’ arrival came a way to finally acquire the harbor wall plans and free Manehatten once and for all. It was only a matter of executing this mission, as quickly and as safely as possible.
First, extensive preparations were in order. Rarity committed to this, sitting patiently as she received one of the most complete make-overs she’s ever had.
The Elite stallion and his red collared mare that Night Wing’s team had captured were carrying an invitation by the highest echelons of the Elite to a nighttime event being held at the old Carneighgie Hall, which had been converted into a palace for the rulers of the city. The Cabal leadership had one of their largest bases attached to Carneighgie Palace, which had long been one of the many suspected places that housed the harbor wall plans. Rarity now knew for a fact that the plans were there.
In order to make use of the opportunity presented, Rarity decided upon the most direct means to reach the plans. She and Corbeau would impersonate the stallion and his slave. Something the wonders of cosmetics, and acting, could easily accomplish.
Standing for a moment to look over Rarity’s newly colored mahogany mane and tail, Coco Pommel crossed her arms. She twiddled a small brush between her fingers, carefully inspecting Rarity’s fur as well.
“That’s the closest shade we can get with what we have. Your fur being white makes it a lot easier to dye black too. Now, as long as we part your mane liiiike… There! Perfect!”
Rarity smiled as Coco finished fussing with her dyed mane, placing it just so it covered Rarity’s sheared horn. The red-collared mare she needed to impersonate was an earth pony. Luckily, Rarity’s own stub was small enough to be hidden by her glossy hair.
“Have you worked in theatre before, Coco?” asked Rarity, as another mare tenderly traced an outline of a new cutie mark on Rarity’s hip.
“I helped with a charity stage event in Manehatten for a long time. We’d do all sorts of plays and shows. Taught me a thing or two about makeup.” Coco Pommel replied, gently finishing the last tints of color applied to the fur on Rarity’s cheek.
“I couldn’t be more grateful for your skills, darling. Or rather… We couldn’t be more grateful. Right, Corbeau?”
While remaining still, Rarity shot a glance over to the flimsy screen on her left. A faint outline of Corbeau sitting could be seen thanks to the light, surrounded by ponies aiding in his cosmetic transformation.
“I’ve always appreciated what the backstage crews of theatres could do. So long as all this stuff can wash off, then I’m fine.” Corbeau said from behind the screen. It was there mostly for privacy’s sake, as the disguises needed to be as complete as can be, meaning every inch of the body must be re-colored. This was especially true in Rarity’s case, as it was necessary to have the bandages on her leg removed and her still-healing wounds hidden under coverage cream. Her leg still felt uneasy, but Rarity shrugged it off.
“We’d likely have to use water collected from the sewers to wash it off.” Rarity noted.
“We travel in the sewers all the time. I doubt it will make us smell any worse.”
Some of the cosmetic ponies giggled and agreed with Corbeau’s statement. Coco Pommel smiled, though kept her mind on more pressing matters.
“I’d be more worried about filling the roles of those two Elite ponies. You’ll have to be really posh and really dirty at the same time to fit in with that kind of crowd, from what I hear.”
“Not to worry, Coco. Corbeau and I have had our fair share of experience with the crowd.” Rarity assured, giving Coco a wink.
With her dyeing completed, Rarity fitted herself into the same garb taken off of the captured red collar. To call it anything related to clothing was an overstatement. All of the silk used was completely transparent, and only covered her belly and parts of her shoulders. The tight straps were only for show, and provided no comfort. The whole outfit only served to expose every desired part of her body, something perfectly suited for a willing slave of the ‘cultured’ Elite.
Nearly finished with the disguise, Coco handed Rarity two green-colored lenses for her eyes. With them in place, Coco did a quick check of everything before lastly helping to secure Rarity’s red collar. Though Doctor Novelle would have to apply the rune seal to make it fully authentic, that could be done later. The doctor was still very sore about Rarity removing her bandages so soon.
“Aaannd… Done! Well… You look… pretty convincing. Care to take a look for yourself?”
Stepping to Coco’s side, Rarity gazed at her reflection. She almost thought the mirror was the wrong one, but soon realized the pony she saw was herself. She had become a living example of a wolf in sheep’s skin.
Another pony moved beside her, a stallion donned in a lavish suit. His deep violet coat and coal-black mane looked completely unfamiliar. Even his blue eyes were those of a stranger.
“I hate contacts.” Corbeau grumbled, fiddling with his bow tie.
“Really? Do they irritate you?” Rarity asked.
“Beyond belief. I feel like if I try to take the lenses out my eyes will pop out with them,” said Corbeau, “By the way, sorry in advance for anything… shameful I might have to do to you during this mission.”
“You don’t need to worry about that, darling. I know you will mean none of it. But, if it makes you feel better, apology accepted.”
Rarity thought of jokingly mentioning that she wouldn’t speak a word of it to his wife, Jasmine, but had quickly chosen against it. It wouldn’t have made him laugh.
“So, who exactly are we?”
“You’re Magnolia. I’m Mr. Pick. Not the kind of name I’d give my son.” Corbeau affirmed.
“Any accents or mannerisms?”
“Mine is basically the same as all Elite stallions are. Feigning an accent to sound classier. You have a Prench accent. I know for a fact you can pull that off.”
“Oui! I’ve always adored Prance. Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to have a Prench name like yours.”
“You can thank my mother for that. If my father had his way, I would have had a Germane name.”
With their appearances complete, Rarity and Corbeau thanked Coco and the others for their hard work and made their way to the elevator, soon arriving at the twentieth floor’s armory to rendezvous with Night Wing and the assembled team.
Night Wing’s Sentinels ready themselves for the night time mission, strapping on harnesses and securing noctral-made suppressors onto their fire dart pistols. A few of them carefully checked their massive long snipes; scoped crossbows which could fire huge bolts from incredible distances. The bow-arms were nearly double the length of a stallion’s arm when fully unfolded, and the whole weapon generally required a perch to place it upon when in use due to its size. It was one of the most powerful weapons created by Umbran weapon smiths.
As Corbeau equipped himself with a folding sword, slipping it underneath his waist jacket, Night Wing approached Rarity.
“Wow. I didn’t even recognize you two at first.” Night Wing commented, “This plan might just work after all.”
“You’re not confident in our chances?” Asked Rarity.
“I am. I just didn’t expect to be on a mission the day after we got here. We’re ready though. When do you want to have the briefing?”
“In a moment, once your Sentinels are finished with their armaments.”
“Wait!”
Rarity’s ears twitched as she turned around, seeing Meadow appear from the doorway. She was wearing a similar ‘wardrobe’ to Rarity’s, as if ready for her own undercover excursion.
Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Judging by what you’re wearing, either the hotel patrons are demanding more from you, or you’re doing what I think you’re doing.”
“I’m going with you.”
“Meadow,” Rarity grasped her by the shoulder, “I admire everything that you do for me and every pony here. You don’t need to keep trying to prove yourself, darling.”
“I know. But I want to help more. You never know if you could use another mare on the inside at this party. There are plenty of mares down in the Veil floors that can cover for me. And I’ve cleared it with Mr. Haybale. Please, take me with you!”
The determination in Meadow’s eyes convinced Rarity of her willingness. She briefly turned to Corbeau for his thoughts. He shrugged.
“As much as it would be helpful to have another set of eyes and ears, our cover only had one slave. If Meadow is going to tag along, then we’ll have to give her a story. We don’t have enough time to have her painted like us.” He advised, fussing with the cufflinks on his sleeves.
“It can be anything,” Meadow pleaded, “I’m used to any kind of bondage or handling. It could work so long as Rarity is still the privileged one. You could even say I was a black collar turned red that you chose to break in to the Elite lifestyle, or something.”
Corbeau nodded. “I’m sure that could work. Not that I’d ever ask you to do that.”
Rarity mulled it over, now looking to Night Wing, who had just finished holstering her Sentinel katar.
“It won’t affect me or my team whether she goes in with you or not. If she does go, then it would be best to try and stick together as much as possible. Especially when you exfiltrate.”
“When what-now?” Meadow asked, her head tilted.
“When you exfiltrate. You know… leave?”
“Ohhh, right. I knew that.”
Night Wing rolled her eyes while Rarity held her hand to her chin. Rarity was always faced with difficult decisions ever since she became a leader. But this one choice was much more vexing. Meadow could be just as much as a liability as she could a great benefit to the mission.
“Alright.” Rarity breathed, “You’re on the mission, Meadow. Let’s get you briefed, shall we?”
Meadow’s lips grew into a bright smile. “I’m ready!”
“Not quite.”
Rarity reached behind Meadow’s ear and took her pink flower out from her mane. She placed it down on a nearby table.
“Now you’re ready.”
The approach to the front of Carneighgie Palace had gone much smoother than anticipated. Rarity felt incredibly safe, though she knew the feeling would soon be gone once they were given permission to enter.
In accordance with their plan, Night Wing, leading her Night Sentinels, made use of the cover of darkness to setup various long snipe nests on the rooftops and buildings surrounding Carneighgie Palace. From their positions, they would be able to watch the Palace grounds and be able to see through most of the larger windows. They were there as a reactionary force, if the infiltration were to go awry at any time.
It was a good thing they were watching from above. While open, many points of the grounds outside were manned by Cabal guards. While they weren’t as outfitted for counter-insurgency as they usually were, their presence alone gave the entire Palace a sense of committed security. The Cabal nor the Elite could afford to muck up this night’s gathering. Even though the only actual fallout for a party being cancelled would be a chink in the planner’s reputation, which in reality, amounted to very little in an isolated city.
Once they set foot inside the Palace, Rarity knew they would be on their own.
Dressed in their revealing silks and brandishing their red collars, Rarity and Meadow followed Corbeau towards the great wide steps of the Palace. In a somewhat unorthodox yet distinctly Fall-like manner, Rarity and Meadow’s leashes were hung around the sides of Corbeau’s waist, loosely tied to his belt. It gave Corbeau free use of both his hands, and implied his level of ingenuity among his ‘peers’.
“Mr. Pick. Welcome to the Palace,” said the concierge, reading through the papers on his pedestal. “The night’s events will begin the grand hall. The only issue I see here is that you were listed with bringing only one of your slaves. You seem to have two.”
“I do apologize, my good stallion,” Corbeau stated, being outward yet composed at the same time, “My second one here just recently committed to her rightful calling. One cannot afford to miss an event as big as this, so I decided to bring two. It won’t be a bother would it? After all, I’m sure many of the patrons already have in excess of one or two slaves on their persons. What harm is there in my bringing of an extra for fun?”
“Oh, well, yes that it true. Very well, sir. You may enter. Have a pleasant night.” Said the concierge, allowing the three of them passage.
Corbeau bid the stallion thanks and proceeded past him with Rarity and Meadow close behind. The walls lining the outskirts of the front grounds were plastered with typical caribou propaganda, though with an added depth from the Cabal and the current situation outside of the city walls. Several wanted posters were among the sheets, all with detailed illustrations of Rarity and Corbeau.
Rarity caught a quick glimpse at one of the posters before continuing up the steps. “Goodness. With a depiction that horridly inaccurate I’m surprised they haven’t accused some random mare of being me.”
Corbeau grinned, successfully holding back a chortle. “It’s like they didn’t even know you had a face up until we interrogated Asmund.”
“They most certainly didn’t.” She whispered back.
The undercover Saboteurs entered into the grandiose Palace. The huge hallways and luxury settings were spotless, every inch of wall and floor meticulously cleaned for the night to be had. It was the only aspect of the entire setting which was pure in any way. The Palace was feverishly adorned with everything that symbolized patriarchal dominance. Uniquely varied amounts of sex toys were picked for display to the guests. Shorn-off unicorn horns were mounted like trophies on commemorative plaques, some being from the very first few weeks of the Fall. Caribou Cabal and Elite achievements were given spotlights, such as models of future building plans back when Dainn still held the throne, and fully-repaired pre-Fall automatic wagons, which the Elite claimed to have invented.
Though more notably, there were stalwart Cabal guards stationed nearly everywhere the eye could see, acting utterly professional in their duties and armed with all manner of advanced shock-based weapons. Their versions of the notorious caribou shock batons were twice as long and much more concentrated with their electrical deliverance. If things got complicated, fighting their way out on their own would not be an option.
Upon arriving in the center of the entrance hallway, the Saboteurs stopped, only for a nearby stallion to take notice of them. The unfamiliar stallion approached Corbeau, trailing three other red collared mares behind him, their leashes looped on the hand which also held his cane.
“Pardon me. You appear to be a little lost. Golden Apple, a pleasure to meet you.” said the stallion as he shook Corbeau’s hand, incredibly dapper though relaxed in his outfit. The harem of mares he led around seemed anxious for his attention, but they remained in their places.
“Mr. Pick. The pleasure’s mine.”
Golden Apple lit up with enthusiasm. “Ah! So you are Mr. Pick! I’ve heard some interesting things about you. You’re quite the self-made stallion, aren’t you?”
“Well, from what I like to say, the only tools I have ever needed were my own two hands. At least, in most cases.” Corbeau replied, giving the stallion a good chuckle. He placed his arms over Meadow and Rarity’s shoulders, pulling them in closer. They in turn pressed themselves unto his sides, stroking his chest.
“Or perhaps in this case, no tools at all! Very ingenious of you to keep your property close to your working bits and bobs.” Remarked Golden Apple, lifting a finger away from the glass in his other hand to point at Corbeau’s belt.
“Thank you. I had only thought of it quite recently.” Corbeau gave a dashing smile, “I’m always looking for more inspiration from my fellow stallion to think of new practices, though. Might there be a gathering place where I could meet a few bright minds?”
Golden Apple lifted his glass briefly. “Ah! Let me enlighten you. Just past those massive pillars is the grand hall. The beginning announcements to the night’s events will be hosted there soon, and the most prominent figures of both the Elite and the Cabal will be there. I can introduce you to a few I know, if you’d like.”
“That’d be perfect, thank you. When are we allowed to go in?”
“The announcing will not begin until an hour or so from now, but we can go in at any time. However, you should be aware that there’s only so many tables and so many seats. We can only bring in one of our slaves with us.”
“Really? That hardly seems fair.” Corbeau frowned.
“I know, I know, we should be allowed to bring what we have! But for the sake of fairness and space, we have been restricted on the subject. It’s only for the grand hall for the time being.” Golden Apple shrugged.
“That seems outrageous. Isn’t this whole event hosted by the Cabal? Some of their officers have dozens of slaves to their name. Are they going to abide by the same rule?”
“If you know some of the Cabal officers as well as I do, then… not likely. Their collections aren’t as large as you might think though. I’m confident there will still be space for us, if we deposit our property in a dark room in short time.”
Corbeau nodded with a sigh, looking Rarity and Meadow. “You’re right, I suppose. I just don’t know which one of mine I want to take in. No stallion in this world should have to be put through such a difficult decision.”
“On the contrary, I have it worse! I have three to pick from! Anyways, make haste, will you, Mr. Pick? I’ll save you a seat at a table once you’re ready.”
Golden Apple tipped his hat to Corbeau before he strode off, his three slaves in tow.
Moving at a leisurely pace, Corbeau took his accomplices towards a hallway lined with nearby dark rooms. Though instead of using any of them, he found a tucked away corner in the hall, which had a lone supply closest. Corbeau quickly opened the door and ushered Rarity and Meadow inside, going in last and shutting it behind them.
“A bit cramped… But I suppose it’s better than using a dark room.” Rarity mentioned as she struggled to reach the light switch, flipping it on.
“I figured it would be easier this way. I didn’t want to- oof! – have to leave either of you chained to a rack on your lonesome or anything.” Corbeau explained, trying his best to shift around while not pushing against either of his friends. There was hardly any room for all three of them, despite the closet being mostly emptied of any cleaning material.
“So, what do you think? Would the grand hall be worth checking out?” Asked Corbeau.
“Yes. Incredibly so, actually. If we can spend some time in the grand hall we could possibly pick up on hearsay bringing us closer to the whereabouts of the plans.”
“Does that mean I should stay here?” Meadow said, squished up against Rarity’s shoulder.
“I’m afraid so, Meadow. You should have more space when we leave. But be sure to stay as still as possible. We won’t be gone for long.” Rarity assured.
Meadow nodded. “Ok. Come back soon, please.”
“We will.” Corbeau added, before he and Rarity exited the closet, bound towards the mingling crowds.
The largest section of the old Carneighgie Hall was its grand hall, which always housed the greatest performing arts events and celebrations of past Equestria. Now, it served as the primary gathering and socializing point for the Elite, transforming the entire hall into a luxury hang-about. The hall was crowded with the entitled males and their personage. A long table was set up along the towering windows, offering various ales and other beverages.
Rarity, with her leash still attached to Corbeau, followed him towards a nearby glass table, containing the stallion Golden Apple and one of his mares.
The seats present were for the owner’s use only. The slaves had to rest on their knees beside them. Never a comfortable position, especially on the hard marble floor, but it was something Rarity had adapted to long ago.
There was a third member sitting with them, across from Golden Apple. A caribou, a Cabal officer in appearance. True to Corbeau’s previous complaints, the caribou had three red collar mares and a caribou cow with him. Two of them sat patiently at his sides, while the other mare and the cow were already servicing their master’s member from underneath the table.
“Ah! Mr. Pick, welcome. Let me introduce a friend of mine. This is Sindri. He’s a communications officer in the Cabal.”
“Good evening,” Corbeau nodded briefly, “You have an impressive entourage with you.”
Sindri scoffed in a heavy tone, almost coughing if his voice were any lower.
“… ‘Entourage’. It’s the only thing I don’t understand when it comes to you Elite. You all keep using that old pony way speaking. They’re cunts. Just plain, cum-drinking cunts who know their place. That’s all you gotta say to compliment me.”
“Well, with how colorfully you speak, I should think that you were trying to be the fancy one.”
The Cabal officer slightly chuckled as Corbeau made himself comfortable.
“So, Officer Sindri. Did you help plan this wonderful event? I wonder if it’s to make up for that brazen attempt by those renegades to steal from you not two days ago. What were they even after anyway?”
“Those ‘renegades’ weren’t just thieves. They call themselves Saboteurs, and they work for the Alliance, and that bitch Princess of theirs. Phew,” Sindri rattled, pausing to pant from the pleasure his slaves were giving him. He focused on the conversation surprisingly well,
“Indeed. I have complete faith that the Cabal will prove victorious.” Golden Apple chimed in, beaming. Sindri gave him a nod.
Corbeau stroked his chin. “Well, it’s good that they were unsuccessful. But what if they were to try again? If they were able to get close to the Primus himself, then what’s stopping them from finding the plans as well?”
Sindri waved his hand, dismissing Corbeau’s notion with a smirk.
“I know for a fact they won’t find them. Because I’m the one in charge of them.”
“A communication officer in charge of building plans? Seems odd,” Corbeau turned to Rarity, snapping his fingers, “Get me a drink. Red potion.”
“Yes master.” Rarity replied instinctually, rising from her knees and departing to the drink table as soon as Corbeau let go of her leash.
Rarity took her time getting to the drink table, passing by other stallions and caribou guests, giving out winks and showing off her curves. She picked a glass and filled it with a red-tinted ale. The clarity and lightness of the beverage reminded Rarity of a cherry cocktail she once used to have while working long nights designing new fashion lines.
With the drink in hand, Rarity made her way back to Corbeau, steadying her pace as she got within hearing range of the conversation with Sindri.
“… couldn’t give you a better reason. It’s just the Primus’ way of keeping things safe. Being unpredictable.”
“I don’t think any other reason would be necessary. It’s a brilliant method to-”
Just before Rarity arrived at Corbeau’s side, she deliberately fumbled her next step, nearly tripping. She managed to catch herself before falling, but in doing so, the ale in the glass flew out and splashed all over Corbeau’s chest.
“O-oh no, I’m sorry master, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
The scowl that appeared on Corbeau’s muzzle slowly turned into a forced smile.
“Can you believe I just got this suit cleaned?”
Sindri only stared as Golden Apple made an appalled gasp.
“Whatever was the cause of that?”
“Need I say more than ‘that’s what mares do’? Excuse me, my friends. I’ll be back soon.” Said Corbeau.
As Rarity pleaded for her master’s forgiveness, Corbeau yanked her leash down, forcing her onto the floor. Her injured leg slammed against the hard marble, causing her to briefly cry out in pain. Corbeau briskly stood up with Rarity’s leash gripped tightly in his fist, and hurriedly dragged her out of the grand hall by the collar. The scene was mostly ignored or accepted as normal by the crowd in proximity, even as Rarity gasped for air while she was pulled along.
“On your feet.” Corbeau ordered, hoisting Rarity up as they entered the outside hallway. She was given not a moment of respite, being pulled vigorously by her leash and led to one of the empty dark rooms.
Just as they neared it however, Corbeau grabbed Rarity by the shoulders and darted with her around their corner, hidden from others as they briefly stood beside the closet door.
“Are you ok? I’m sorry, I think I might have been acting too much.” Corbeau asked, worried.
Rarity smiled after feeling her neck. “It’s ok, darling. I’m fine. Just still a little tender, is all. What did that officer say?”
“There should be a communications room, filled with some radios and other sound equipment like you would see in a music studio. It’s in the right wing of the Cabal’s base, which means it’s just a few sections down the halls here. You and Meadow are going to have to go find it. I don’t want anyone to think Mr. Pick suddenly disappeared.”
“Understood. Then let’s get moving. Meadow?”
Rarity opened the closet door, her eyes widening as she uncovered it to be empty.
“Could they have found her?!” Corbeau asked in shock.
“No. No! Quick, check the dark rooms here!” Rarity pushed, following Corbeau as he immediately began searching.
Peeking through the cracks of a few of the rooms, but to no avail, Rarity and Corbeau tried the last door in the hallway, spying through the door’s crease. A green mare was inside, sifting through a bag.
Rarity and Corbeau quickly entered and closed the door behind them, startling Meadow.
“Meadow!” Rarity exclaimed, though in a quieted manner, “What are you doing? You were supposed to stay in that closet!”
Meadow held up the bag she was rummaging in. “I’m sorry! I overheard a few stallions leave this room while you guys were gone… So I thought I’d sneak in to see if they left anything. I found these.”
A set of dull keys jingled as Meadow held them up, giving them to Rarity. A tag on the key ring labeled their purpose. The three keys were for the windows that some dark rooms have.
“That might be useful for you two.” Corbeau mentioned.
“For us? What are we doing next?” Meadow queried, some excitement returning to her voice.
Rarity was about to lecture Meadow on being too brash, but she decided to save it for when they were finished with the mission.
“We know where to look for the plans, but Corbeau must go back to the grand hall to avoid any suspicion. Which means you and I must go and find the plans.”
Meadow contained herself, breathing deeply. “Ok. I’ll follow you, Rarity. I promise not to go off on my own.”
“Thank you, darling.” Rarity smiled, turning to Corbeau behind her, “The Cabal section is not far from here. We’ll rendezvous back at the closet in fifteen minutes.”
“Can do. Be safe, you two.” Corbeau replied, smiling at both of them before moving back to the door.
After Corbeau had scanned the hallway for them, Rarity and Meadow slipped out of the dark room a few seconds after his departure, moving with haste down the opposite hall. They kept close to the walls, making sure to avoid open doors and to quickly step past intersections in the hallways. It wasn’t long before the halls took on a darker shade of color, signifying the transition into the Cabal base.
Most of the Cabal soldiers had been assigned to guard the Palace section of the massive structure, leaving the halls in their base relatively empty. Even here, there were a few dark rooms, though they were left mostly unused. Caribou never had use for a private room when they wanted to fuck something. Anywhere suited them.
As they crept further along, Rarity froze in her tracks, stopping Meadow behind her. Her ears twitched at the sound of boots stepping towards them from a corner ahead.
With a dark room door right beside them, the two mares silently slipped into the room, carefully closing the door just as a pair of Cabal guards turned the corner.
Rarity put her ear close to the door, listening as the boots came to a stop. The guards put themselves right in the middle of Rarity and Meadow’s path, blocking any advance.
“We’ll have to find a way around.” Rarity whispered.
“What about the window?” Meadow said, pointing back at the other end of the dark room.
Rarity nodded, handing the set of keys over to Meadow. “See if you can open it. Try your best not to make any sounds. I’ll keep an ear to the door.”
Nodding silently, Meadow patiently made her way to the rectangular window, taking one of the keys and trying it on the lock. It refused to fit.
The boots in the hall begin to move again, growing louder.
“Meadow .” Rarity whispered across the room, “Hurry, please .”
“Hang on !”
The next key wasn’t a match, leaving one left. Meadow put it to the lock, but it didn’t budge. Her face turned pale as she kept trying fit the key, to no avail. Her expression relaxed however as she flipped the key and inserted it into the slot, twisting it and unlocking the window.
Rarity turned as she heard the gentle creak of the window opening, quietly making her way over. Meadow looked outside, letting the cool night air brush along her exposed fur. To her left was another window much further down. An alleyway lied below, while a gutter was just above the ledge.
“We’re a few stories up, and there isn’t a whole lot of ledge…”
“I’ll go first. Hand me that bit gag.”
“What for?” Meadow asked as she picked up the metal bit harness from the nearby desk.
“The locks are on the inside. I’ll need something to break the glass on the other window.”
As Meadow stepped aside, Rarity placed the bit in her mouth and climbed through the window. She grabbed hold of the gutter with her hands and found her footing on the thin ledge. Being barefoot made it somewhat easier to keep her feet on the stone’s edge.
Rarity cautiously etched her way along the thin ledge, soon followed by Meadow. The distance to the other window wasn’t too great, but the process was frighteningly slow. Rarity strained the muscles in her legs to keep her balance, causing a surge of pain in her left leg. She stopped suddenly, almost causing Meadow to bump into her.
“Rarity? What’s wrong?”
“Nu’in !” Rarity mouthed past the bit, shaking her head. She fought through the pain and continued on, soon reaching the other window.
After she knelt down next to the window, hugging the building wall while keeping a hand on the gutter, Rarity took the bit from her teeth and began poking the edge of it into one of the glass panes with a steady hand. She managed to clear out the square of glass, taking the keys she looped through her collar’s ring and reaching inside with them to open the lock.
The key fitted the lock, and the windows swung open.
With sighs of relief and pain, Rarity and Meadow slipped themselves into the empty dark room. Rarity’s leg was worse for wear, and Meadow quickly took notice.
“Where does your leg hurt, Rarity? I think I can help.”
“Gahh… Up here. Just below the hip.” Rarity said, gritting her teeth.
Meadow scooched closer and gently laid her hands on Rarity’s old wound, which was completely hidden from the cosmetic camouflage of her black coat of fur. With and articulate motion, Meadow massaged the muscles in the specified area of Rarity’s thigh, initially causing her to wince. But as she continued, Rarity felt the pain lessen.
Meadow kept her massage going for a minute longer before stopping. “Did that help? How does your leg feel?”
“It’s still a tad bit achy, but it feels much better. Thank you so much, Meadow. Where did you learn to do that?”
“It’s a massaging method good for the core-ish area of the body, I learned it from some of the other mares who work on the Veil floors with me. It helps a lot with severe bruising or aching muscles.”
Rarity paused, thinking back to those red collared mares who help sustain the Keep’s guise.
“… Do you or the others get hurt? When you work on the Veil floors?”
Meadow shook her head. “It’s very uncommon for one of us to get seriously hurt. Some of the customers that the brothel attracts can be rough, but it’s not so bad. We’re all red collars when we’re there, so we don’t mind it.”
“And when you’re not on the Veil floors?” Rarity asked, “Who are you then?”
Meadow looked down to her lap, then back up to Rarity.
“Well, we’re… just ponies. Like anyone else.”
Meadow’s words ran about in Rarity’s thoughts. She was completely right. Rarity knew most of all in her time during the Fall how being a red collar felt, even if she was faking it while others weren’t. And while the mares among the Elite still adhere to the Fall’s rule, given the chance, Rarity believed they could be able to be reasoned with. At the very core, their loyalties lied to themselves, not to the caribou. Red collared mares, regardless of which side they chose, were just as flawed as any pony else. Some were indeed traitors to Equestria, but for those who were like Meadow, Rarity completely understood them.
Rarity gave Meadow a warm hug, causing the green mare to smile and return her affection.
“We’ve still got a job to do, right? Let’s get those plans!” Meadow exclaimed, her pink eyes showing her determination.
Rarity nodded. “Indeed. Let’s be off!”
The halls were even emptier the deeper they went into the base. It truly was a momentous night for nearly all of the Cabal to be out and about. They likely felt the interior of the Palace was safe enough this far in. As proved by Rarity and Meadow’s presence, their beliefs were misplaced.
As their infiltration continued, Rarity and Meadow came to another stop just around a corner. Past the bend was their objective; the communications room. Flanked by two bored Cabal guards.
“Of course. The only place under guard is the one place we need to be.” Rarity whispered. Meadow took a quick peek at the door as well, before pulling back and nudging Rarity to get her attention.
“I’ll distract them. Then you can get inside.”
“No, Meadow, wait!-,”
Throwing caution to the wind rather purposely, Meadow dashed into the middle of the hallway, immediately garnering the attention of the guards.
“Hey! What’re you doing here?!” One of them bellowed.
“Oh! I, uhm, was just looking for my master…” Meadow spoke loudly, pretending to hide something behind her back, “Uh… You have a tiny penis!”
As she broke into a full out sprint the opposite way, one of the guards pulled out his shock baton.
“That bitch!” He yelled, giving chase.
“Wait, you idiot! We’re not supposed to leave our posts!” Called out his partner, chasing after him in turn.
The guards zoomed past the corner Rarity his behind, disappearing down the winding halls in pursuit of Meadow. Rarity stood up, feeling more concern than accomplish. Meadow’s distraction worked, but she only hoped that Meadow would be able to find a way to evade the guards and hide before they could catch her.
Re-focusing her mind to the mission, Rarity went into the communications room. The equipment within was fairly sparse. There were a few old Equestrian radios seemingly salvaged from some place in the city. They worked for the most part, but were incredibly crude. A map which hung over the radio desk showed certain highlighted places in Equestria, with large crosses over places like Canterlot, Ponyville, and Rainbow Falls. They marked Alliance positions on the Eastern side of the map, with a significant portion of markings surrounding Manehatten and its boroughs.
There seemed to be several other cities under caribou control which they were keeping in communication with, the most notable on the map being Las Pegasus. From the logs written down in the notebooks on the desk, they were conversing about similar problems with insurgency in the westward city. Rarity was not surprised by this in the slightest; The Alliance had dispatched the Saboteur 1st Cell there only a few months ago, sometime after Rarity and her 2nd Cell set up in Manehatten. If the logs are correct, then Las Pegasus might be liberated soon.
Pulling herself from the radios, Rarity continued to scan the room thoroughly. It didn’t take her long to find another large desk with several documents lying about on its surface. Most of them were Cabal reports of the city interior, and their efforts to stop Saboteur advances. There wasn’t anything of note involving Primus Asmund. It appeared from some of the skimmed reports that the Cabal had no clue where to look for the Saboteur HQ. The find brought a sense of relief to Rarity, knowing that her ponies in the Keep were still safe.
Moving her hands down to the sides of the desk, Rarity grabbed hold of a small handle and pulled on it. A wide drawer slid open, and tucked away within it was what Rarity had been looking for ever since she stepped foot in Manehatten; The harbor wall plans. Along with the bonus of the additional schematics for the entire wall itself.
A grin crossing her lips, Rarity quickly took all of the schematics and rolled them up as tightly as she could, finding a nearby carrying cylinder to place them in. She stuffed the schematics, including the harbor wall plans, into the cardboard cylinder and fastened the cap. She then slung its strap over her shoulder and made for the door, though not before making the sudden decision to unplug all of the radios and flip the desk over, throwing most of them to the ground.
“Splendid.”
Silently observing the halls, Rarity snuck out of the communications room and made a bee-line for the Palace side. The lack of obstacles along the way gave Rarity a bad feeling, which was further deepened as she thought of Meadow once more. She hoped to Celestia that her friends were ready to leave once she returned.
Rarity knocked on the closet, causing Corbeau to emerge with a breath of relief.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes. I was getting worried.”
“I have them!” Rarity exclaimed in a hushed tone, “Not just the harbor wall plans, but the plans for every single wall section around the city. They’re in this cylinder.”
Rarity pointed to the carrying case on her back, opening the lid. Corbeau peeked inside, closing it as Rarity looked behind him.
“Where’s Meadow?”
“I thought she was still with you.”
Rarity’s heart sank.
“She distracted two guards to allow me to get the plans. I was hoping she would find you before I returned. We cannot leave without her!”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find her. But we’ve got to be quick about this, so keep your eyes open.”
Making sure she was still presentable as a slave, Rarity and Corbeau exited the private room and made their way down the luxury halls, subtly yet hurriedly looking around for their missing friend.
They searched the back halls and empty dark rooms, turning up nothing. Rarity decided to take a peek in the grand hall, where an announcement was to be made, heralding the night’s continuing events.
As they turned in toward the huge pillars at the entrance, most of the room was quieter than before. The attention of the patrons and their slaves was directed towards the grand hall’s massive stage, opposite of the pillars. The night air shown through the ornate windows which dwarfed the room’s inhabitants.
In view of all was Primus Asmund, dressed in powerful red cloaks and beaming with pride. A thunderous applause preceded his entrance on stage.
“Good evening my friends! Brethren caribou and gentle-colts of the Elite. I hope you’ve been enjoying this late soiree.”
The audience applauded once more.
“I’m so glad! Unfortunately, I have a bit of bad news for you all. I would never want a celebration like this to be spoiled, but it must be, for our safety… and for justice. For you see…”
The air became tense.
“…There are spies among us!”
Some gasps filled the room, as the curtains of the stage slowly parted.
From behind the stage, a large circular outline rolled forward, lurching past the backstage line.
A blankee device. With Meadow strapped to its center.
Rarity and Corbeau stood at the far end of the grand hall, frozen in place and trying their best not to show signs of concern. Though had any one in the room looked back at them, it would have been easy to see their fear.
Held spread-eagled along the circle frame of the device, Meadow panted and struggled to free herself from the metal bonds. The device’s extending arm hung outward above its control panel, training its modifying tools directly at Meadow. A thin red light shown on Meadow’s forehead.
Asmund continued, stepping beside the captured Meadow. He rested his hand on the device’s control panel, keeping a finger hovering above the activation switch.
“The Alliance, the militant force of the so-called government under Luna, has been more determined than ever to take our city. So much so, that they’ve sent three of their agents to infiltrate our peaceful gathering tonight. But fear not. Not only have we captured one, but the other two happen to be here right now, in this very room.”
As some in the audience scanned the room worriedly, Rarity and Corbeau turned behind them. The entrance was suddenly blocked by a host of Cabal guards on Asmund’s command. There was no escape.
“As enemy spies, this mare and her Alliance friends are traitors. I think we know full well the punishment for traitors. But there is a chance for this mare’s punishment to be averted… If her friends surrender themselves.”
Rarity gritted her teeth, forced to listen to Asmund continue.
“Do you hear that, Rarity ?” Asmund articulated, smirking, “You and… Corbeau, isn’t it? I know why you’re here. If you show yourselves, and surrender, then your friend here will not be blanked. I’ll let her keep her colors, her memories and her very identity… if you simply step forward.”
Rarity quickly glanced to Corbeau.
He looked back, reflecting the same hopelessness Rarity felt. He didn’t know what to do.
Rarity turned her sight back to Meadow, noticing that she was keeping her own eyes shut. She knew Asmund was keeping an eye on her reaction, to possibly use her to catch sight of where her friends were hiding.
Some seconds passed, before Rarity made her decision.
She stepped forward, a steely gaze in her eyes.
“There you are.” Asmund announced, setting the whole room’s eyes on her. Corbeau had stepped up beside her as Meadow finally opened her eyes in shock.
“We’ll surrender ourselves, Asmund. But only if you release Meadow!” Rarity demanded.
“You mean let her go free? Let her go back to your hidden base?”
“Yes.” She replied, absolutely stoic.
Asmund mulled it over. “… Very well. Considering how easy it was to capture her, I suppose she isn’t exactly the most useful to you. We have a deal.”
Several Cabal guards came forward, surrounding Rarity and Corbeau. One sent his fist into Corbeau’s stomach, knocking the air out of him and forcing him to take a knee. Another kicked Rarity’s injured leg, causing her to fall to the floor in blaring pain.
As Rarity lifted her head, Asmund kept his grin. His hand was still on the control pad.
“… Then again, how am I to ensure safety for this city if I let my enemies go free?”
Click
“Rarity!!”
Meadow’s cries for help were drowned by the whirring of the machine’s equipment, the lights intensifying as it was activated. The blankee began its brutal work, focusing its altering beam on its hapless subject. The screaming made Rarity’s heart shatter.
CRASH
In a blink of an eye, the windows of the great hall completely shattered. Lightning-fast bolts fired from faraway long snipes streaked and whistled through and struck down several of the Cabal guards surrounding Rarity and Corbeau. The other guards recoiled as the attack startled the entire hall, sending the patrons in a panicked bid for the exit.
Corbeau took the opportunity presented and whisked around, knocking the Cabal guard behind him to the ground with a swift punch of his own. He hurriedly acquired the guard’s advanced shock baton and incapacitated him.
The other caribou guard from behind Rarity moved to attack Corbeau. As Corbeau turned to face the threat, Rarity reached towards his vest and grabbed his hidden folding blade. As he locked batons with the caribou, Rarity snapped the blade out and slashed across the caribou’s leg, allowing Corbeau to quickly defeat him.
The two exposed Saboteurs dashed to the stage as fast as they could, witnessing Asmund flee the scene just as another long snipe’s bolt impacted a guard beside him. More bolts intercepted the approaching guards attempting to subdue Rarity and Corbeau. The accuracy of the Sentinel snipers proved to be their unbreakable defense as they clamored up the stage.
Rarity instantly stopped at the blankee device’s control panel, switching it off just as Corbeau swung at the instrument pod with the shock baton, disabling it.
Meadow’s agony had stopped as her hands and feet were released from the frame, causing her to drop to the floor. Rarity and Corbeau went to her side.
The bright greens which defined the mare were gone. Every inch of Meadow’s body was hairless, her fur coat, mane and hair of her tail utterly dissolved by the machine. Her terrified eyes were no longer pink, now only a pale grey.
Rarity tried to take her hand, but Meadow pulled back.
“S-stop! Who are you? W-what’s going on?”
Rarity couldn’t hold back her tears as she realized the extent of her friend’s damage.
“Meadow, please, it’s ok…”
“Who’s Meadow?? N-no! Stay away!”
Seeing little else they could do with the time they had, Corbeau held the hilt of the shock baton and conked Meadow in the head, knocking her out cold and leaving a bruise on her scalp.
Rarity only stared at him as he stepped behind the unconscious Meadow.
“A few seconds longer on that thing and she might have been completely lobotomized. She’s lucky to still be able to form sentences.” Corbeau said, lifting Meadow onto his back after tossing the shock baton away. He held his hands on to Meadow’s thighs as her arms were draped over his shoulders.
“Come on! We have to go!”
Placing herself back into focus, Rarity kept the carrying cylinder close, and held her folding blade at the ready.
The grand hall was nearly empty, its occupants having fled the sudden violence. As Rarity and Corbeau ran towards the entrance pillars and away from the windows, their long snipe covering fire could not reach them. Some Cabal guards took advantage of this, closing in from within the entrance hallway.
They were stopped however as unseen noctrals leapt from the shadows, having infiltrated during the chaos created. Night Wing was among them, clearing out the Palace steps. With expert Sentinel training at her call, she utilized her sharpened katar and swiftly eliminated two caribou guards, before noticing Rarity and Corbeau with the incapacitated Meadow.
“Do you have the plans?” she asked quickly as others of her team held off more Cabal.
“Yes, in this cylinder.”
“Let us take it back to the Keep. We’ll keep them guessing while you make your way back. Doesn’t look like you’ll make it far with that load.” Night Wing suggested, glancing at Meadow on Corbeau’s back.
Rarity nodded, passing the cylinder to the noctral Sentinel. “Fall back as soon as you can! I don’t want any of you giving your lives for me!”
“Already on it.”
Going as fast as they could with Meadow in their care, Rarity and Corbeau exited the front of the Carneighgie Palace, descending the steps as the Sentinels made their retreat. Several Cabal pursuing them were stuck down by bolts fired by the snipers above, faithfully protecting their allies on the streets.
As far as it seemed, this mission was complete. Now, it was a matter of returning home.
It was likely well past midnight, from what Rarity could guess. The night air was pleasantly cool, though it did little to dry her sweat as she and Corbeau hastily made their way along a pre-planned escape route along the alleyways.
Rarity kept her eyes forward, checking behind her often to make sure Corbeau, with the unconscious Meadow still slumped on his back, could stay close. They turned into another alleyway, nearing their next stop.
Rarity stopped for a brief moment, reeling from the persistent pain in her leg.
“Is your leg acting up?” Corbeau asked, stepping beside her.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine. You shouldn’t be worrying about me.” Rarity snapped. Her words sounded much harsher than usual.
Corbeau stayed silent, still hunched slightly from Meadow slung on his back.
“… It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault, Corbeau.” She replied, passing him. “I’m the one responsible for every pony’s safety. I should have never let Meadow come with us. Now hurry. The maintenance hole should be here.”
Corbeau sighed, following close to Rarity. They both stopped again however as they found the maintenance hole.
It was already open, its mechanism severely damaged.
“Could one of ours have left it open for us?” Pondered Corbeau.
“Not likely.” Rarity surmised as she helped Corbeau take Meadow down into the sewer. Once they were settled in the tunnel, Rarity looked back up at the metal plate pried open. It was impossible to tell if it had malfunctioned or if it was deliberated damaged, and there was no time to examine it thoroughly.
Turning away from the maintenance hole, Rarity was about to search for the hidden lantern nearby, but stopped to realize that the entire tunnel was already lit with crude candles, left on the dry edges of the stone paths. Many were just piles of wax.
“… I don’t think we’re alone down here…” Corbeau noted, re-shouldering Meadow on his back to adjust her.
Rarity focused on following the wax candles, coming around several bends and turns in the sewer tunnels. As they continued, rough writing and symbols scrawled on the stone walls became illuminated. They were mostly gibberish, with arrows pointing in certain unknown directions, all drawn with a purple ink of some kind. Only one word was recognizable.
LAVENDER
Rounding about another corner, Rarity stopped herself and Corbeau as they happened upon a mysterious pony. The mare was crouched down, trying to help another mare up from the sewage. Both of the ponies had purple collars on, though the one above the muck wore a torn sheet of violet along her shoulder, hanging from under the crease of her collar and covering parts of her chest. She had tatters of clothing on, and some equipment pouches strapped to her legs and waist.
“W-where… The others… Took them?” The mare in the grime asked, confused in a shambling way.
“They’re gone. Out of the city. Sister, you must join them! Follow my lights and my art. They will lead you to Lavender. She will keep you safe.” The clothed one said, getting the other to her feet.
In a strange sense of understanding, the shambling mare nodded, making her way into the next tunnel, following the candles. She soon disappeared, leaving the clothed one content with her work.
The remaining purple collared mare turned around, only to yelp in surprise at the sight of Rarity and Corbeau.
Corbeau stayed back as Rarity cautiously approached, putting away her folding blade. “It’s ok. Don’t be scared. We aren’t here to hurt you.”
Rarity tried to be as simple as possible. Dealing with purple collared mares was always a challenge. Their insanity made them utterly unpredictable, though most were often incoherent or obsessed with finding any form of pleasuring. This one seemed like neither. She seemed to actually have a grip on herself.
“Y-you…” The mare stuttered, her arms held outward, “Y-y-you’re… Ally… Ally-ence?”
Rarity assumed a more passive stance. “We are Alliance, yes. Do you know what the Alliance is?”
“Oh! Good, I know. You fight against the old masters. Take back Equestria! This is good. I know.” The mare nodded, heroically shaking her fist in the air.
The purple collared mare’s own fur was caked in all manner of grime and refuse, though she looked distinctly orange in color. Her mane was a dirty white, while her eyes had a deeper shade of orange. Her attention slowly drifted towards Corbeau, her ears tilting quirkily as she spied the unconscious Meadow on his back.
“Is… Do you have a sister? There, on the cock’s back?
“What did you just call me?” Corbeau hissed. Rarity couldn’t understand what she meant, and kept her eye on the mare as she stepped closer, squinting at Meadow. She then stopped, pulling back.
“Oh… No, not a sister. Red. But then, why blanked? The old masters must really be missing us!” She giggled.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused,” Rarity said, “What is your name? And who are these sisters?”
The mare grinned and took a breath to answer, but her grin disappeared as she failed to find her words. She pondered for a few seconds, rubbing her temples furiously.
“Name… Uhh… Agghh name, name, name… Had something to do with cream. The kind you eat… Anyway, sisters! Yes! Those who are purple are sisters. Lavender gave me her blessings to go to the big city and find as many as I can! They aren’t safe here. They can only be safe with Lavender.”
“Lavender? Who’s Lavender?” Rarity probed.
“Lavender’s Lavender. Lavender’s Host. We are the Host. And she is Lavender. Well, she isn’t colored lavender, but she’s still Lavender. If we come together… Then Lavender will do the same thing the Ally-ence does! Take back Equestria for us! She’ll-”
The mare suddenly stopped, shaking as though a cool air came through. She quickly gazed at her wrist, staring at a painted-on watch. The hands of the ‘watch’ were broken.
“I have to go! More sisters to find! Time running out!”
Before Rarity could call out to the mare, she was gone, dashing into the blackness of the tunnels ahead. The candles brightened her splashing footsteps until they were silent.
“I’ve never seen a purple collared mare so… composed,” Corbeau mentioned, “Even if she was still off, she only used the word ‘cock’ once. That’s new.”
“That might explain why we haven’t been seeing purple collared mares too often. But that mare… I’ve never seen her here before. How did she become so coherent?”
“I have a feeling we won’t find the answer to that here. We should be going,” Corbeau advised, “We can think more on what we just saw later.”
Nodding in agreement, Rarity took the lead, traveling with Corbeau and the unconscious Meadow deeper into the tunnels, and soon, to sanctuary.
The reception given to Rarity by the Keep was incredible. Everyone had already known of the plans being acquired, since Night Wing and her Sentinels had arrived before them. All of the praise fell to Rarity, and though she was happy to be able to lift everyone’s spirits, she wasn’t in the best of moods.
Even now, as she stood idly outside one of the medical ward rooms on the fifteenth floor, she felt horrible. Maybe it was due to her aching leg, despite being patched up by the medical ponies. Maybe it was because of the unpleasant process of removing all of her dye using less than clean water. Or maybe it was because she was just so tired of this damned city.
Rarity’s thoughts told her all of this, but she knew the real reason.
She let Meadow go with her.
Rarity knocked gently on the door way, doing so for the fourth time. Finally, Doctor Novelle appeared, looking to Rarity.
“How is she?” Rarity asked.
The doctor had some trouble finding the right words.
“…Her minor injuries are healing fine, and her hair will eventually grow back, though it will likely be white now. Maybe it would be better to see her for yourself. She’s awake now.”
Doctor Novelle departed off to another room in the med ward, leaving Rarity. She went further into the dimmed room, the lights kept low to provide a calmer atmosphere for patients.
Brushing aside the curtains, Rarity stopped at the cot containing the resting Meadow. A bandage was wrapped around her head, where Corbeau had hit her. Several other smaller bandages covered scratches and scrapes on her fragile and fleshy skin. The cot sheets covered most of her body, giving her some extra warmth along with the patient clothing given to her.
Meadow’s paled eyes looked to Rarity.
“Hello. Are you feeling better?” Rarity asked, taking her words slowly.
Meadow nodded. “A little… Are you another nurse?”
Rarity was initially surprised that Meadow didn’t at least recognize her from the night before, when she was just removed from the machine. But as she thought on it, Rarity remembered that she and Corbeau were still in their disguises. They had washed all the dye out of their fur once they got back.
“Ah, no, I’m not a nurse. I help run this place.”
“Oh… ok.”
“Can you tell me your name?” Rarity asked. Her tone wavering slightly with each word.
“M-Meadow… That’s what everyone says my name is.”
“Can you remember how you got here?”
Meadow shook her head.
Rarity continued. “Can you… remember anything at all?”
Meadow paused. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, before finding her words.
“All I remember is waking up in a weird place. Ponies were running away. A mare and a stallion were next to me and told me to go with them, but I was too scared. Then I woke up here… Can you tell me why I’m here?”
Rarity paused. “You see… You were a part of a conflict for our home land. Equestria. Do you remember Equestria?”
“It sounds like a silly place. How’d it get its name?”
“It’s a long story… But to the reason why you’re here. I… had to go on a mission, to stop a race called the caribou. You see, they conquered Equestria four years ago. We were all enslaved. But now we are fighting back.
I… made a choice. And my choice led to you… losing your memories. And… everything else…”
Meadow fell silent. She stared, unsure what to think as Rarity cried.
Her voice stressed and quivered. “I’m so sorry… I did this to you. It’s all my fault.”
For a while, Rarity’s tears were the only sound in the room. Meadow looked away, shedding tears of her own.
“… Maybe… maybe you should go…”
Rarity was startled, but she somberly complied. She knew it was only normal if Meadow never forgave her for the mistake she made. Rarity knew she would never forgive herself, either.
Stopping herself as she stood, Rarity remembered something she had brought with her. She took it out of her coat pocket.
“I’d like you to have this. It’s a flower clip, for you to put in your mane when it grows back. My sister and I had… well. That’s not important… It’s yours.”
Meadow took the pink flower in her hand, a little brightness in her paled eyes shining through. She smiled weakly.
“Thank you, I… I really like it. Wh-what’s your name again?”
“It’s Rarity.”
“Rarity…”
Slowly turning her head away, Meadow’s smile disappeared as she looked at the pink flower. Her tears had stopped, unlike Rarity, who felt as though her heart was ground to a pulp over and over again at seeing what she had allowed to happen to her friend.
Rarity left Meadow, ambling towards the nearby elevator.
She got inside, pressing a random floor to quickly close the doors.
Before they could slide shut, a hand stopped them. They opened again, letting the stallion inside.
As they finally shut, Rarity sank into Corbeau’s arms. Her tears spilling onto his coat.
The Liberation War, Year 1.
6 months After Battle of Canterlot, (A.B.C.)
Operation Crescent. Day 77.
The early days of life in the shadows within Cabal-occupied Manehatten were constantly fraught with danger. The line blurred between fighting a war and fighting to survive. The Saboteurs were empowered in their mission to free the city, while also being bogged down in their own doubt. Those days were dreary, uncertain, and absolutely terrifying.
How this day was so much different.
Rarity never thought she would ever see the Keep, and all of its inhabitants, so upbeat. Every pony was hard at work with a smile. Many were talking about what they would do when the city would be re-taken. Some spoke of continuing to fight, while others expressed their longing want to see their families, though they all agreed a simple rest from everything would be first on the list. The refugees beamed with thanks, overjoyed to know their former captors would no longer be able to reach them. None of them could be blamed for what would normally be an intense amount of assumptions. After all, the key component to the completion of Operation Crescent was in their possession.
With the achievement of the Palace night mission, the harbor wall schematics were safely in Saboteur hands. And with that, the proper placement of the explosive batteries could commence. Soon, the wall would be destroyed, allowing the landing force dispatched by the Haven Alliance, consisting of troops from the Equestrian Home Army and Umbran Army, to enter the harbor and take the city from within.
There was still much that had to be done, but Rarity was confident. With assurances from Octavia and Night Wing, all would be in place.
Rarity took a moment to gaze out of the windows of the twenty second floor. The primary command center of the Keep was bustling with Saboteur officers attending to the operations. A mix of urgency and patience settled among the ponies, feeling victorious while also keeping in mind the possibility of the unexpected. From across the city-scape view, a tiny yet brightly flashing light permeated the layers of mist settling on the waters beyond the wall. It was the signal that the Saboteurs had identified this morning. The Alliance landing force was waiting on the fringes of the bay, ready for when the harbor wall would crumble.
The air shifted beside Rarity as Corbeau stood beside her. He looked out at the early morning sky, the sun failing to show itself past the mass of wild clouds.
“Tea?” He offered, holding out a mug.
Rarity shook her head. The mere thought of the word made her stomach churn.
“You sure? It might be the last one. A bunch of the Saboteurs are already planning on dumping all of the tea into the harbor once we retake the city. There won’t be any left after this.”
Rarity couldn’t help but grin at the thought. Doctor Novelle must had passed on her sentiments.
Corbeau grinned in turn. “Glad to know you can still smile. How are you feeling?”
“A little better. But let’s not dwell on that right now. How are things proceeding?”
“Our Saboteurs down at the harbor are on schedule. There’ve been little to no interference from the Cabal guards that are usually there.” Corbeau stated.
“That’s wonderful news,” Rarity breathed, “But our work isn’t over yet. We will still have a fight on our hands once the Alliance landing force arrives. A fight that will span an entire city…”
Corbeau noticed the sudden drop Rarity’s tone, turning to her with a worried frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, I’m… I’m only worried about the battle to come. We’ve all come so close to the goal of liberating this city. I don’t want to see any of us… die… only inches away from the end we’ve been working so hard towards for so many months.”
Rarity felt Corbeau’s hand touch her shoulder, sending a comforting warmth through her. She looked into his eyes, thinking how romantic a moment like this would have been, had Corbeau not already been pledged to another. She quickly snapped herself to reality as he spoke.
“…Consider that we may actually be able to take the city back without any fighting. The Elite are cowards, and the Cabal aren’t fanatics. Once they see the Alliance has breached their wall, they wouldn’t throw their lives away meaninglessly. If you ask me, we’ve already won.”
His words might have been presumptuous, but they succeeded in lessening Rarity’s worries. With the amount of reinforcements to come from the harbor, surely the Cabal would opt to surrender. They knew when they could be defeated…
At the same time, however, it couldn’t be that simple. Primus Asmund was the one wildcard Rarity could never figure out. From his chilling words at the Caneighgie Palace, he came off as knowing much more than he should have. And with his cunning mind and his ruthlessness, Rarity wasn’t sure what to expect from him when the harbor wall would fall.
“… Perhaps we might get a little luck for once. Did Octavia send her reports with you?”
“No. She wanted to go over some details about the wall with you personally. She’s down on the fourteenth floor’s command center. I’ll happily escort your ladyship down, if I may.” Corbeau informed, his arm bent outward towards Rarity, bowing with a gentlecolt’s poise.
Rarity couldn’t help but giggle, resting her arm in Corbeau’s with her own lady-like stance. “Of course you may. I only wish I had my strolling umbrella.”
The pair turned in the direction of the main elevator, only making it halfway from the windows before stopping.
The room’s attention slowly fixed on the elevator doors as smoke began seeping from the cracks. The gas was light and hazy, very different from the smoke produced by an uncontrolled fire.
The elevator’s signal lights were steadily moving upward, before stopping with a ding under the number twenty two.
The wide doors slung open, letting forth a lurching cloud of smoke. A coughing figure staggered out.
“L-lady Rarity…” Mr. Haybale choked, dropping to his knees, “We h-h-have… v-visitors…”
Mr. Haybale fell flat on the floor, a sharp crossbow bolt jutting out from his back.
The smoke spread as several larger, antlered figures stepped out from the elevator.
The orange sigil of the Cabal painted on their helmets.
“The Keep has been compromised!! All floors, this is not a drill! Cabal forces have breached past the Veil floors! All units to defensive stations! I repeat, Keep is compromised!!”
The building speakers boomed urgently, but their sound could not come above the eruption of metal crossbows and crackling electricity.
Corbeau tackled Rarity to the side as bolts shot across the room, finding marks in several Saboteurs taken by surprise. As quick as lighting, the Cabal caribou rushed into the command center. Their assault was met with an equally quick defense, the officers and other Saboteurs already letting loose their own hail of fire dart pistol bursts. A clash and flurry of folding blades and shock batons ensued, engulfing the command center in combat. Tables with documents and city maps were thrown down for makeshift cover, while windows were broken to allow the impeding smoke to dissipate.
Rarity and Corbeau scrounged themselves from the floor, hastily running through the other rooms on the floor and towards the service stairwells. They needed to arm themselves, and quickly descended towards the armory on the twentieth floor, passing by Saboteurs on their way up to help contest the command center.
The armory’s many rooms were filled to the brim with ponies, all rushing to gather their folding blades, pistols, crossbows, and whatever weapons they needed. Rarity was quickly passed a sword and a pistol as Corbeau fetched his own set, finding his gauntlet by a workbench and quickly fastening it to his forearm. The Saboteurs surrounding them donned their padded long coats, which provided some protection against the shock based weapons of the caribou.
As she grabbed spare ammunition for her pistol, Rarity glanced at Corbeau behind her.
“I should’ve seen this coming… I should’ve known Asmund would have found a way…”
“If the Cabal brought Haybale up with them, then they must have walked in through the ground floor,” Corbeau interrupted, keeping his mind in the moment, “If he wanted to betray us, he could have told the Cabal where the armory was, or to use the service stairwells. He knew the best chance at giving us time was to take the Cabal up the main elevator. We need to get to the secondary command center on the fourteenth floor and find Octavia.”
Rarity knew Corbeau was right. Especially regarding the Cabal’s straightforward attack. Haybale gave his life to allow them to find even a few seconds of extra time to mount a defense.
Compelled by Haybale’s sacrifice, Rarity completed her loadout and addressed the armory ponies within earshot. They looked to their leader with courage.
“Alliance Saboteurs! Spread out and protect our refugees! Repel the attackers! I need four of you with me!”
Rarity, joined by Corbeau and four other Saboteurs made their way to the secondary elevator, stepping inside the car and pressing the number fourteen. The elevator began its smooth descent, silence pervading within the car as though the urgency of the situation suddenly disappeared.
The elevator car suddenly jerked, freezing still as a muffled tremor rocked the connecting wires. Only a second later it resumed, though at an alarming speed.
Corbeau immediately mashed the emergency breaks button, forcing the elevator to come to a screeching halt on the fifteenth floor. The elevator doors jammed from the violent stop.
With the aid of one of the accompanying Saboteur stallions, Corbeau latched onto one side of the doors, pulling with all his might as the other stallion did the same for the opposite door. They successfully pried the doors open, witnessing several ponies evacuating from the med ward facilities. Saboteurs and refugee volunteers gave escort to med ward staff and patients as they hurried by, making their way to the safety of the service stairwell and the floor below. Some hastily carried medical supplies while others lifted heavy stretchers with patients lying upon them.
Rarity stepped out, noticing one of the stretchered ponies was Meadow, still frail and confused, though safe with her caretakers. She breathed a sigh of relief as she moved with her group to the source of the evacuation.
A wounded Saboteur passed them by, garnering Rarity’s attention.
“What happened? Where’s Doctor Novelle?”
“Cabal surprised us by coming down from the upper floors. They’re taking prisoners. Doctor Novelle ordered us to get every pony down to the fourteenth where it’s safe. She’s back in the lobby.”
Taking in the pony’s words and moving with haste, Rarity and her squad arrived in the med ward lobby, an open room which cut down the middle of the floor’s layout.
The lobby was ablaze with a powerful yellow light. A huge, magical barrier stood dissecting the lobby, held up by Doctor Novelle. Her arms were outstretched, palms fitted to the shield as her horn sparkled with intensity.
“Doctor Novelle!” Rarity exclaimed, catching the doctor’s attention. She could only glance at her briefly, the magical strain taking its toll on her strength.
“T-The ward’s cleared out!! You have to… M-make sure they’re all safe!”
Beyond the doctor’s translucent barrier was a cloud of white smoke, clumping together more thickly in some places. A battle raged on the other side, clearly audible though impossible to see. From a gap in the smoke directly ahead, a lone Saboteur desperately fought against a towering Cabal soldier. The Saboteur was rapidly defeated, the Cabal caribou stunning the stallion, ripping away his folding blade and stabbing him with it.
The same Cabal soldier directed his attention to the shield, facing down Doctor Novelle. His eyes were covered by the blackened visor of his helmet, giving him a boost to his intimidating stance.
The imposing caribou reached for an object on his back; A small but heavy battering ram, thoroughly etched with glowing rune markings.
Grasping the ram, the Cabal caribou heaved it at the barrier, causing Novelle to cry out as a huge fracture appeared in her shield. The caribou swung once more, utterly shattering the wall of yellow light with a burst of energy, sending Doctor Novelle to the ground. The magic lingering in the air quickly dissolved into nothing.
Novelle looked up at Rarity as she struggled to lift herself.
“Go!! ”
From within the spreading smoke, two metal claspers shot out from an unknown device, trailing behind them loose yet durable wires. They clamped themselves around Novelle’s neck and left wrist, delivering a painful electric current to the injured unicorn. The wired clamps reeled themselves, swiftly dragging the screaming doctor into the bowels of the smoke.
Rarity froze in place as the smoke gave way to more encroaching Cabal soldiers.
“Rarity, we need to move!!” Corbeau urged.
“Lady Rarity, go! We’ll hold them off!” One of the accompanying Saboteurs said, drawing her pistol as the other three Saboteurs bravely joined her, already engaging the caribou.
Corbeau ushered Rarity towards the service stairwell before she could protest their fearless decision, quickly shutting and locking the door behind him.
After descending the stairs, Rarity and Corbeau arrived at the fourteenth floor, welcomed in by several Saboteurs, who then quickly closed and blocked off the door behind them to prevent the caribou from pursuing.
The secondary command center of the Keep was a mess. Wounded Saboteurs laid about as room was made for the evacuated med ward patients. Refugees taking shelter helped where they could, but the floor was still strewn with chaos.
Corbeau made his way across the crowded room, only to stop and turn around once he noticed Rarity wasn’t following. She simply stood there, a look of defeat on her face.
“How… How could I let this happen? This is all my fault…”
Before Corbeau could try to urge her to push forward, another pony stepped in to comfort her.
“Rarity…” Coco Pommel said, gently holding Rarity’s arm, “Please… I don’t know a whole lot of what’s going to happen, but I know for a fact that if you don’t keep going, everything up to now will be for nothing. You’re strongest mare out of all of us. You can’t give up.”
Rarity stared at her friend, letting her words soak into her mind. She straightened herself, giving Coco Pommel a thankful hug.
“Stay safe, will you?” Rarity asked.
“We will.” She replied, pulling away and returning to the crowd as Rarity joined with Corbeau once again. They quickly found the mare they came for.
“Start moving some down to the thirteenth floor. The further we are from the caribou above us, the better.” Octavia ordered a group of Saboteurs. Rarity caught her attention as she neared.
“What’s the situation?” Rarity asked.
“Whatever you saw on your way down. That’s simplest way to describe it all.” Octavia said wearily. “I couldn’t tell you how much of the Keep has been taken. All I know is that we need to get to the harbor wall and ensure its destruction. It’s the only way to effectively drive off this attack.”
“Then we need the zip line launchers on the twenty sixth,” Corbeau suggested, “But they’re above the command center. The Cabal could have already taken that floor.”
Octavia shook her head. “Not likely. I sent Night Wing and all of her Sentinels up there the instant I got word of the attack. They’ll hold it, but we should be getting there as quickly as possible.”
“Then how shall we proceed?” Rarity asked.
Octavia beckoned them to follow her towards the tertiary elevator. She continued to speak as they walked.
“We cannot allow the Cabal to know about our refugees harbored on this floor. Which means in order for us to use the main elevator, we’ll need to call it down on the seventh floor.”
“Why so far down?”
“We’ve been establishing a perimeter… Well, if one could use the term ‘perimeter’ in a vertical battlefield. We need to keep floor’s eleven through fourteen secure, otherwise we will be out of options. I don’t want the Cabal anywhere near them, so we’re going to call the elevator from the seventh. Are you prepared for a fight?”
Rarity and Corbeau glanced at one another, before nodding. Octavia exhaled.
“Very well. Then let’s be off.”
The three entered the tertiary elevator, pressing the button labeled seven as the doors slid shut. The old elevator rumbled and churned, but thankfully it held as their descent commenced. The air in the car was absolutely silent. Rarity and Corbeau stood beside one another and behind Octavia as they kept their eyes locked on the door. Their minds focused on what would be waiting for them when they came to their stop.
Ding
The final ping of the lights echoed, landing on number seven. Octavia placed her hand to her back, grasping the fire dart pistol in the holster right above her waist. She pulled it out the moment the doors slid open, already letting loose a shot.
The Cabal solider in her sight fell to the floor instantly, letting go of the horrified mare in his grasp. The other caribou in the vicinity were alerted, launching themselves at the stoic Saboteur leader as the red collared mare scurried to safety.
Rarity and Corbeau skirted to the main elevator panel as Octavia unloaded two more bullets into two other Cabal. She drew her other pistol while ducking to avoid a shock baton, firing twice at her immediate attacker and once more at a faraway caribou attempting to use his crossbow, felling them both.
As Octavia tossed aside her empty pistols and weaved through the approaching enemies, Rarity found the main elevator to be operational, pressing the emergency floor call. The elevator was on its way, leaving Rarity and Corbeau to guard the doors. The pair began to pick off incoming caribou with their own pistols, carefully aiming their shots to conserve their limited ammunition. Despite this, most of the Cabal soldiers kept their sights on Octavia, with more emerging from the nearby stairwells.
Octavia handled three caribou at a time, dodging determined blows and using her enemies own strength against them. She disarmed one soldier of his shock baton and whirled it into the gut of another, quickly knocking them both down.
As she punched another caribou over the adjacent ledge, tumbling to the Veil floors below, Octavia spotted two more caribou setting up ranged positions from across the room. Along with their common crossbows, the caribou rangers were equipped with the same clamp-launchers used on Doctor Novelle.
Thrusting herself forward, Octavia dove into a somersault as the electrified clamps were launched at her. They whizzed by, one nearly gasping the tail end of her trench coat.
Octavia rolled further, stopping only to swiftly draw her folding blade and hurl it at another charging caribou. The sword unfolded as it flew across the air, digging its sharpened point into the caribou’s chest.
Dashing to the soldier, Octavia grabbed hold of the folding blade’s hilt and held the corpse up, shielding herself from a following volley of crossbow bolts. As the hail of fire ceased, Octavia pulled her folding blade out and tossed the dead caribou aside, making a bee-line for the rangers.
With one folding blade at her side, Octavia reached for her second blade, whisking it out as she leapt upon the defenseless caribou. She dispatched them with unfettered skill, reflecting that of a trained assassin.
What few Cabal soldiers who had not fallen to Octavia’s blades retreated, fleeing below the seventh floor to find reinforcements. The fighting had ceased for the moment, the room littered with bodies. Rarity and Corbeau were relatively ignored during the entire confrontation. The lull in combat was only interrupted by Octavia’s panting.
Another sound pierced the silence. A loud ding and sliding of elevator doors.
“Our ride’s here.” Corbeau enlightened, holding open the doors.
Rarity turned to her tired friend. “Octavia, quickly! Before more come!”
The panting Saboteur only stood there, her back to Rarity. Stains of blood were splattered along her blue trench coat, while her mane dripped with sweat and her muscles ached.
“…I have to stay. They might try to redirect the elevator.”
Rarity shook her head. “No. No, don’t you dare ! I can’t have all of you give your lives for me like this!”
Octavia huffed, turning around to face Rarity as Corbeau stood behind her. She smiled.
“…You’re beyond generous, Rarity. You are the Element of Generosity, after all. But if you try to stop others from giving back to you… then you’re only being selfish.”
With a forceful shove, Octavia knocked Rarity backwards into Corbeau, throwing them both into the open elevator. Octavia slammed her fist into the up button as she turned to face down the Cabal force which had arrived, renewed with more numbers and determination.
Rarity could only catch a glance of Octavia’s bloodstained folding blades drawn to her side, before the elevator doors closed shut.
The elevator ride felt like an eternity.
Rarity thought of the words she spoke just that morning. How she hoped that the battle for Manehatten would not take any lives. It was less than an hour later, and now, she may very well have just witnessed the deaths of dozens of her Saboteurs. And perhaps dozens more taken prisoner by the Cabal, with the intent of forcing them back into the slavery they had fought so hard against. Dozens of friends who chose to throw themselves in harm’s way, all to give Rarity the time she needed. It was almost unbearable, and every passing second Rarity thought she might break down.
But after every passing second, she didn’t. She couldn’t. Otherwise, all would be lost.
The elevator windows brightened as they met the grey skies. The harbor was in plain sight, the wall still standing tall. It was anything but peaceful.
“The Cabal had planned this,” Corbeau uttered as he gazed through the glass, “There’s smoke coming from the harbor. They’re attacking both outposts there. They’re trying to stop us from destroying the wall…”
Planned indeed, but for how long was not known. For all Rarity knew, Primus Asmund could have planned this from the very beginning. To lure the Alliance closer and closer, and when they finally took the bait, he would strike.
Rarity clenched her fists. It didn’t matter now.
“… I will not let any sacrifice today be in vain.” She spoke, her voice resolute.
With the final ding of the twenty sixth floor sounding off, Rarity and Corbeau turned and picked up a hasty jog towards the zip line launchers.
Just as they had rounded a hallway corner and to the large open area housing the launchers, the commotion of battle reached their ears.
Weaving underneath the Cabal soldier’s swing of his shock baton, Night Wing spun around and stabbed the caribou with her katar, kicking him off the blade as he fell. Her noctral Sentinels dispatched a few other enemy soldiers before calling out the launchers to be secure again.
Night Wing noticed Rarity and Corbeau as they approached.
“Glad you made it. Was getting worried you weren’t coming.”
“How are the zip lines?” Rarity asked hastily.
“The Cabal managed to damage one, but the other three are still working. Now that you’re here, we can get to the harbor. Are you ready?” said Night Wing.
“Yes.” Rarity replied plainly, already making her way to one of the launchers.
With the noctral Sentinels aiding them, Rarity, Corbeau and Night Wing, along with four other Sentinels, suited up in their harnesses as the launchers were given permission to fire. Compressed air hurled the massive anchor-like hooks through the air, easily finding their marks across the skyline and onto the target building below.
As the lines were reeled in automatically and tightened, Rarity and her companions hooked themselves to the lines and immediately began their descent. They rapidly gained speed on the incline, zooming through the morning air. Rarity glanced back at the Sentinels who chose to remain behind to disable the launchers once they had been fired. She wished them safety as the returned her gaze to the lines.
Almost as quickly as they departed, the group slowed themselves using their specialized hooks, coming to a soft landing at the target roof. Once all feet were firmly on the ground, the lines were severed.
Ignoring the returning pain in her leg, Rarity checked over herself and her equipment, stopping only to gaze up at the Keep, now almost a backdrop piece. Smoke billowed out from shattered windows, making the tower stand out in the brisk morning setting.
Night Wing stepped forward. The harbor wall was now a massive sight only a short distance ahead.
“We’ve got a few more rooftops to cross before we get to the first outpost! Let’s move!”
The dash was on, as Rarity, Corbeau and the Sentinels leapt from roof to roof, gaining ever closer to the Saboteur base situated along the wall. It wasn’t long before they arrived on the first outpost’s rooftop, which was only a building’s length away from the waters of the harbor and the wall itself. The small clearing below was embroiled in a ranged battle, Saboteur groups defending themselves from the Cabal onslaught.
Night Wing leapt from the side of the roof with her katar drawn, extending her bat-like wings to guide her fall. She landed squarely on top of a Cabal soldier, dispatching him and moving to aid the other Saboteurs taking cover in the clearing.
Sliding down a nearby ladder as the other Sentinels leapt down to join their leader, Rarity and Corbeau made it to the bottom level. Debris and fires were scattered around, but for the most part, the Saboteurs there had succeeded in repelling the Cabal advance.
Crouched behind large piece of a support pillar fallen on its side, a Saboteur officer primed a detonator box. Several wires connected to the base of the box, extending out into parts unknown of the wall.
“Lady Rarity!” the officer cried out, “Both detonators are set! On your word!”
“Do it!”
After another Saboteur fired a blazing yellow flare into the sky above them to signal the other outpost, the officer grabbed hold of the push handle and thrust it into the box. Seconds passed before the closest battery charges detonated, rocking the floor beneath their feet and shaking the harbor wall. Dust and concrete rubble fell as the series of explosions slowly stopped.
The Saboteur officer looked around in confusion, ending his gaze on the second outpost on the other side of the harbor.
“Where are they? The other side should have detonated, we sent the signal!”
A moment of pause settled before being disrupted as Cabal soldiers returned and resumed their firing from afar. Several bolts fired from repeater belts struck the Saboteur officer, severely wounding him as everyone ducked into cover.
Night Wing scooched over to Rarity.
“What happened? Shouldn’t the wall be gone now?”
“There are two separate detonators. The Cabal likely took the other one before it could be activated. Stay here and protect the outpost, Night Wing. Corbeau and I will make sure this wall doesn’t stand any longer.”
“Good luck.” Night Wing nodded, moving away to give orders to her Sentinels.
“I can get us out of this fire and up on that ledge.” Corbeau stated, pointing up to a nearby roof only a few feet above them.
“Make it so, Corbeau!” Rarity said as she grabbed hold of him.
Corbeau aimed his gauntlet and fired a rope line at the roof ledge, the hook finding purchase. He activated his gauntlet once more, reeling in the line and taking off up the wall in a flash, with Rarity beside him. They pulled themselves over the roof’s ledge, taking in the new field of view.
The harbor wall towered over them, badly damaged and crumbling in portions, but still standing. A series of scaffolding-like walkways and bridges lined the flat wall, leading along the entirety of its length, though many were twisted and smashed from the explosions. Rarity spied at least one path that looked stable enough to make it to the other side of the harbor wall, where the second section of the outpost lied within a building attached to the wall across the harbor.
Though they had to be careful in making the journey, they were on the clock. If the Alliance landing force in the bay saw the first explosions, they might be fooled to think the wall was completely destroyed. If they couldn’t set off the second explosions soon, then the landing force could risk losing momentum.
“Ready for this?” Corbeau asked.
Rarity nodded.
“Absolutely.”
From atop a metal catwalk clinging to the wall’s edge, Rarity and Corbeau peer down at their objective.
The site of the second detonator was significantly less battle-scarred than the first. The Cabal had overrun the Saboteur defenders in a surprise attack, taking most of them alive and locking the area down. The detonator box was primed and ready, sitting within the center of the concrete clearing. It only needed to be pressed for the remainder of the charges to ignite.
Several Cabal soldiers surrounded the detonator, wary of tampering with it after witnessing the explosions from the opposite end of the wall.
A few Saboteur prisoners where brought out from a nearby area where they were being held, their arms bound behind them and their own selves looking worse for wear.
One of the Saboteurs, a mare, was thrown to her knees before the detonator box as the other two prisoners were kept within sight. They were forced down as well, crossbows pressed against their heads.
“Tell us how to disarm the detonator.”
“W-wait! I-I’ll tell you, just don’t hurt my friends!”
The Cabal attack had been vicious in design, like most caribou tactics were. But what differed in this case was the professionalism of the Cabal soldiers. They had shown their own restraint when it came to taking advantage of prisoners. The Cabal here knew their mission was the only thing that was important. None of them spent any time trying to rape any of the mare prisoners, instead putting all of their focus at their task at hand. In comparison to the average caribou fighter, the Cabal soldier was more than impressive.
Chancing a shot at the detonator was possible, but neither Rarity’s nor Corbeau’s aim was that skilled. And they risked damaging the components instead of setting of their explosion. More importantly, the prisoners could be at risk if they weren’t freed. A direct intervention was necessary.
As Corbeau carefully placed himself near one of the catwalk support wires, Rarity took a shiny part of her fire dart pistol and bounced some of the light coming from a lamp pole off of its surface.
The bound mare seemed to notice, though kept her eyes on her captors.
“The box is incredibly delicate. If you don’t have the right tools, it c-could ignite the charges early. If you gather the tools, I can walk you through it.”
The Cabal officers seemed to debate the mare’s option for a few seconds. It was all that was needed.
Rarity gave Corbeau a signal, prompting him to draw his folding blade and slice the support wire. The catwalk shifted downwards towards the clearing, snapping off its hinges and sliding down the incline of the wall. Sparks from the frame flew as Rarity and Corbeau clung to its railings.
Just as the Cabal noticed the improvised transport, the catwalk slammed onto the ground, launching Rarity and Corbeau into the clearing. The engagement quickly unfolded as Corbeau fired pistol shots at the crossbow-armed caribou. Rarity bore her folding blade to block and parry the leading Cabal, stunning him to allow Corbeau to finish him with a slash of his own blade.
Taking the window of opportunity, Corbeau dashed to the nearby area holding the majority of the Saboteur prisoners as Rarity freed the three near the detonator.
“Lady Rarity! Thank Luna you’re here! We were trying to move our box to a safer location before the Cabal attacked. If we activate it here, we could be buried by the rubble.” Explained the mare.
“Understood. I’ll take it from here. Get the others to a safe distance.”
Rarity handed her pistol and folding sword to the mare for her own protection. She looked back at her, wanting to protest her leader’s orders, but she saw the seriousness in Rarity’s eyes.
The mare nodded with a frown, gathering her companions and retreating with the other freed Saboteurs. Corbeau passed by them as he returned.
“Are we all set?”
“Yes… But you should leave, Corbeau. The detonator is too close to the wall. The fallout could kill us. I’ll activate the detonator.”
Corbeau seemed at a loss for words, but a smile soon graced his lips. He shook his head.
“I can’t just walk away, not after everything that’s happened. And there’s no way I could let you go out on your own.”
Corbeau stepped to the side and approached the detonator, looking back to Rarity. She already knew nothing that she could say would dissuade him from his choice, and joined him in pressing the switch.
Tremors immediately rattled the very ground as bright flashes of fire engulfed their side of the wall. The massive steel structures cracked and shattered, tumbling down into the harbor, throwing forth giant cascades of splashing water.
Even before the entire wall had collapsed, the bellowing horn of an approaching ship grew, almost shaking the very air as the armored bow of a ship burst through the falling remains, shoving aside the chunks of wall now turned to brittle. Other ships followed, coming to rest at the piers and docks connected to the city. Their specialized bay doors flung open, letting loose waves of Alliance troops into Manehatten’s streets.
Rarity’s mission had finally been completed.
The moment was short lived as the ground beneath Rarity and Corbeau took on a slant, followed by an unsettling creaking of metal beams and twisting wires. The section of the wall they were connected to listed forward, falling all at once toward the open bay, away from the harbor. The two tried to find something the grab hold of, but were stopped as the wall jerked forward, smashing flat into the waters and sending Rarity and Corbeau flying against the stone.
The wall fractured into large segments upon impact, snapping like brittle cardboard. A huge piece of the wall remained somewhat anchored to the harbor grounds, acting as a tall and thin peninsula of stone.
Rarity groaned as she pushed herself up from the terrifying tumble, amazed that she was mostly unharmed. She gazed up at the nearby ledge created from the tumultuous blasts.
Corbeau was there, desperately clinging for his life at the very cusp of the ruined edge. His hands failed to save him, and he slipped out of sight.
“Corbeau!”
Rarity sprung to her feet, making it three steps before stopping in her tracks.
A heavy grip clasped around her arm, yanking her back and tossing her back. She hit the ground with a painful thud, landing several feet away. She tried to get to her feet once more, only to be knocked down with a powerful punch to her cheek, quickly followed by a kick to her stomach.
Rarity coughed violently as she reeled from the blows, only to feel the same hand seize her by the throat. Her assailant lifted her up off of her feet, easily holding her aloft as she wrapped her own hands around his wrist.
“An interesting end to the game we’ve played,” Asmund spoke, not a hint of frustration in his voice, “You’ve won.”
Rarity struggled to breathe, Asmund’s grip on her neck tightening. She gritted her teeth, a small trickle of blood seeping down the crease of her mouth. Her legs hung powerlessly from Asmund’s strength.
“I’m not too upset… I guessed that this would have happened eventually. In the end, the Alliance can have their city. So long as I made the cost of taking it… heavy, painful, and lasting. That is victory enough for me.”
Asmund stood tall, staining his tendons and fingers as he steadily closed his hand with the remainder of his strength, choking Rarity with unshackled viciousness.
Rarity could only stare at him as she felt her lungs shudder. His eyes were determined, but his expression never changed. He was confident even in defeat. He was truly happy with the outcome, knowing that he had not let Manehatten go without great cost to his enemies, and his final contribution would be the loss of the mare who opposed him for those long months. To him, it was all worth it.
KER-SHHLUNK
Rarity gasped for air as Asmund abruptly released her, falling to the ground and coughing.
A folding blade jutted from Asmund’s chest, a dogged Corbeau holding the hilt from behind him. He wrapped his arm around Asmund’s neck and pulled him back, thrusting the blade as far as it could go.
Only moments later, Asmund gave his last breath. Corbeau didn’t bother to pull out his blade, instead letting go of the hilt and letting Asmund’s corpse tumble over.
Corbeau took not a second of respite, kneeling beside Rarity as she recovered in her breathing.
Rarity didn’t need to say anything. She let Corbeau embrace her, and embraced him in kind as a group of Alliance troopers approached them from the harbor.
The Saboteur’s Keep, Haybale Hotel, was utterly trashed. The Veil floors were torn to bits, as though a hurricane had ravaged every floor. The lobby was the most chaotic, filled to the brim with ponies.
The Alliance forces came to the hotel to use it as a setup for an emergency medical station. Luckily advanced forces had arrived to clear out the Cabal before moving on to the remainder of the city.
Refugees and Saboteurs from the previous battle were given care on the flooded lobby floor, those wounded receiving fresh medical supplies. Rarity and Corbeau were extensively looked over by several medics as they made their way inside, even seeing attention from a Heartmender who accompanied the landing force. They were checked out, though mostly because they kept urging the ponies to attend to others.
Rarity saw many familiar faces, each one washing away the worst of her lingering worries. The first of which was that of a noctral’s bat-like appearance.
“Night Wing,” said Rarity, a small rasp in her voice. “Are… are you going back out there?”
Night Wing nodded, fixing her katar to her side as the Sentinels who could still fight stood behind her. “Still got an entire city to take. Though the fighting is moving fast, they’ll need all the help they can get.”
“I see. Before you go… Thank you.”
“Thank you .” She replied with a smile, setting off out the door.
Rarity could not find time to think to herself on how critical the actions of the Night Sentinels truly were, before another familiar pony appeared, though this one instantly hugged her.
“Rarity! Thank Celestia you made it back!” Coco Pommel exclaimed, visibly shaken from the entire ordeal. Her smile was warm, though she seemed to be exhausted beyond belief, “I’ve… I’ve never been more scared in my life. I haven’t been able to stand still. But I’m so glad it’s all over. We have you to thank.”
Rarity smiled weakly. “We are all to thank for the victory today. No matter how small, everyone played their part.”
The words felt comforting to Rarity, and she noticed the same feeling on Coco’s smile, but she soon felt only empty as she caught a glance at a row of blankets laid on the floor, off to the side of the lobby.
Coco noticed her stare. “… Just in case you’re wondering… Meadow’s ok. She’s still slow, but she didn’t get hurt. I… Don’t know if you would want to see the others…”
Rarity placed a hand on Coco’s shoulder, before moving towards the rows.
The bodies of those killed in the attack were lined together, waiting to be placed in bags brought by some of the newly arrived medics. Among them were Mr. Haybale and Doctor Novelle, laid peacefully on their backs, along with dozens of their comrades who had fallen.
Rarity forlornly looked at every single one of them, wishing only the best for their souls. Though she suddenly realized a particular Keeper was not among them.
“Coco? Have you seen Octavia?”
“Yes. She was wounded very badly. This way.”
Coco Pommel led Rarity over to a cordoned off section of the lobby used as an extensive care unit by the medics. They only peeked in, instantly spying the injured Octavia lying upon a stretcher while being looked over by several medics. She had numerous bandages and other coverings upon her body, many in places where the medics had to remove her clothes to treat her wounds properly.
Octavia was barely awake, though she took notice of Rarity’s head peeking from behind one of the screens. While she couldn’t grin or move much of her head, Octavia held a thumb’s up, bringing a soft smile to Rarity, who responded in kind.
Coco and Rarity backed away from the screens, soon happened upon by Corbeau.
“Corbeau? Where had you gone off too?” Rarity asked.
“Sorry. I had just spoken with a few other officers. We should head to the rooftop. There’s something we might like to see up there.”
The sudden air of the rooftop was breezy and a little bit chilling, but it was a much needed refreshment.
Rarity and Corbeau entered out onto the roof, joined by Coco Pommel and a host of other ponies. A flagpole stood in the center of the rooftop, attended to by several Saboteurs. They hoisted a gold and white flag, bearing a sigil of the Sun.
All of their sights were directed out at the city that surrounded them.
From all corners of Manehatten, flags were raised on nearly every roof of every major building, all flying high and proudly as cheers began echoing. Triumphant horns from the landing ships blew out, carried on the wind as the morning Sun shone from the edges of the clouds, bathing the spectacle in its warm glow.
It was a sight to behold. The liberation of Manehatten.
Rarity sighed pleasantly, noticing a mare approached her. Her red coat and mane struck her as familiar.
“Lady Rarity. I don’t think you actually met me before. My name’s Ruby. I came in a few days ago thanks to Ms. Night Wing. I just wanted to say thank you for everything you’ve done. I’m hoping one day I can return the favor for you and all of your Saboteurs.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ruby.” Rarity responded, “It’s entirely your choice of course, but were you considering joining the Saboteurs?”
“Oh, no. I’m going to be a Guardian of the Sun. Like Liberty. She saved me nearly a year ago from the Crystal Empire. I want to repay not only her kindness, but yours as well.”
Rarity and Corbeau sat down upon a bench on the rooftop, enjoying their moment of rest. With Manehatten’s liberation came a strategic victory for the Haven Alliance. But more than that, it brought about a much needed rest for the 2nd Cell Saboteurs.
Corbeau let out a long sigh as he gazed longingly at the brightened cityscape. “What a sight to see…”
Rarity kept her eyes locked on her hands, holding them together on her lap. She turned to Corbeau after a few moments of pause.
“We’ll be getting a little bit of rest, but soon, we might be back in the fray once again. The Home Army won’t allow much leave while we’re still fighting the caribou. But there are some exceptions.”
Corbeau raised a playful eyebrow.
“Are you thinking of opting for a vacation? You deserve it, you know.”
Rarity chuckled, but shook her head.
“No, not for me. I can pull a few strings using this victory… to give you some time to go to Umbra, and see your wife.”
Corbeau fell silent, perking his ears up in shock. He wasn’t sure how to react. Rarity cut in again.
“I’d likely have to report you as needing a recovery time for a medical issue, which means lying on official documents. And if I give you the rest time that I have, it should give you enough days to travel to Umbra and spend a little time with Jasmine, before you had to return. It’s the very least I could do to repay you for all the times I had been hard on you.”
Corbeau looked down at his hands as Rarity awaited his response.
“Octavia was right… you’re beyond generous. But… I don’t want that right now.”
Corbeau’s reply gave Rarity a shock of her own. “Truly? But wouldn’t you want to see Jasmine again? To make sure she knows you’re safe?”
“Believe me, I couldn’t’ dream of doing anything else,” he replied, “But now that we’re in a freed city, I can start writing to her. I’m… I’m not so sure I’m ready to show myself to her again. I need to finish this. To finish this fight, so we can feel truly safe again. Plus, I wouldn’t want to surprise her, only to tell her I have to leave until Celestia knows when.”
Rarity could understand. And she did.
“Corbeau. I’m grateful to have you by my side. I can see why Jasmine chose you.”
“Is it because I can carry a mare wherever and whenever she pleases?” He chuckled.
Rarity grinned. “It’s because of your chivalry. And… maybe that too.”
From the City to the Earth
The present day
2 years After Battle of Canterlot (A.B.C.)
Spike rubbed his eyes as he pulled himself away from the documents. He had dedicated much more of his attention to scouring through the story, considering Rarity’s participation in Operation Crescent. The table had finally been fully sorted of the many papers detailing the liberation of Manehatten.
“What was it like to be in the middle of all of that, Coco?” Spike asked, placing the last of the documents into an organized stack.
Coco Pommel sighed, her hands folded on her lap.
“I don’t think I could find the right words to describe it… All I know is that I’m grateful to be alive. Even after a battle like that, Manehatten is still hanging on. We have a lot of refugees moving in, even though the Consulate hasn’t been able to get enough resources to repair everything yet. The port has been the busiest though, since it’s vital for Alliance activities. The city is a whiles away from being the crown jewel it once was, but it’s slowly being brought back to life every day.”
“What happened to the Cabal?” Spike asked.
“Most of the Cabal and the Elite were captured and are still being detained in the city, but the Cabal in Manehatten were only one unit. The Cabal as a whole are still in other occupied cities, from what I can understand. I think they’ll only be really gone once all of the caribou are defeated. But Manehatten has nothing to fear from them anymore.” Coco explained, a tiny smile of hope appearing across of her snout.
“Well, I guess that mostly good news then… wait, where’s Liberty?” Spike pondered, only now noticing the empty seat in front of him.
Coco Pommel looked to the archive’s entrance. “I don’t know. She just got up and left when we were nearing the very end of the last document. She seemed a little distressed…”
“Hang on.” Spike stood from his chair, “I’m going to go check on her.”
As he departed the archive room and scoured the corridors and rooms of the town hall, Spike found his way over to the main entrance, passing by the few ponies active in the evening hours.
He stepped out into the cool air, quickly spotting Liberty at the bottom of the town hall’s set of steps. She stood alone, pacing slightly while wiping a few tears away from her cheeks.
Spike cautiously approached her.
“Liberty? Are you ok?”
Liberty jumped slightly at his presence, but still smiled, glancing at him.
“I’m fine, I’m ok… I’m… Dammit... I’m an awful liar.”
“What?” Spike asked, confused.
Liberty straightened herself, turning towards Spike.
“In that last bit on Operation Crescent, Rarity spoke to a mare named Ruby…”
Spike’s fan-like ears tilted quizzically. “Oh yeah. She mentioned that you saved her from the Crystal Empire, right? Did she end up joining your Guardians?”
Following his words, Spike noticed a shift in Liberty. She choked up, just barely holding back more tears. Her eyes bore a sadness that he felt he couldn’t understand.
“Yeah. She became my friend. But she’s not around anymore. I… made a mistake. And she died because of it.”
Spike stared at Liberty, his ears folding back. He couldn’t help but feel like she was sharing the same feelings that Rarity had in regards to Meadow. A sense of failure.
“I’m so sorry… Do you want to talk about it?”
Liberty shook her head, her nose sniffling.
“No, I don’t. Let’s get back to Coco Pommel and thank her for her help.”
“Wait,” Spike stopped her, “… We don’t have to talk about that, but… I’m starting to realize that I hardly know anything about you, Liberty. And I feel like I deserve to at least be able to know you better before I can keep working with you.”
Liberty paused, though soon nodded in agreement.
“I understand, Spike. And I’m sorry for not being very open from the start. How about we go to Star Glow tonight to talk. I promise I’ll tell you more about myself.”
“Ok.” Spike smiled, turning as Liberty passed him, returning inside the town hall. He let out his own sigh before following close behind.
As the evening went on, Spike and Liberty left for Star Glow café, bidding goodnight to Coco Pommel. She had been a great help in sifting through Rarity’s story, and her experience from actually being in Manehatten during Operation Crescent gave a much more in-depth analysis to their study. For the night, Coco elected to turn in, having some Consulate business in Haven to attend to in the early morning.
Spike and Liberty arrived at the café, finding it a bit more populous than the last time. They sought out a table further off in one of the cavern’s tucked away corners. The waitress had brought their drinks to them shortly after. Liberty ordered the same Umbran drink that Lightning Dust had the night prior, giving Spike the notion that she wanted to wash away her stress.
“I guess I’ll start with the most obvious thing,” She said, “Liberty isn’t my real name. It’s Chorus.”
“Really? Chorus isn’t such a bad name. Why don’t you use it?”
“… When the Fall came around, things… happened. I was in Canterlot that day, and I had managed to hide away thanks to a friend of mine… who… I…”
Chorus trailed off, becoming more visibly stressed.
“Listen, I don’t want to go into details right now, if that’s ok. Short story is, I hid in Canterlot. Years later I managed to get out, and somewhere along the way I decided that I wanted to dedicate myself to the one thing which was needed; Liberty. It sounded a lot less cheesy in my head.”
Spike waved his hand. “I don’t think it’s cheesy at all. And that’s ok, I don’t need the whole story, just whatever you’re comfortable with talking about.”
Chorus seemed to relax from Spike’s words, taking a deep breath.
“Alright, thank you. Well, after I had given myself that name, I soon came into Haven and met Princess Luna. I was actually with her when she went to destroy the Crystal Heart in the Empire up north. In the time from then until the battle for Canterlot, I spent here in Haven. I got to know Marshal Mjolna, Nurse Redheart, and even Rarity and her sister.”
Spike leaned forward. “So you knew Rarity then? Was… was she like she was in Manehatten?”
Chorus paused to take a drink. “She was still the same generous mare, though in Haven she spent more time making clothing for ponies than practicing subterfuge. She actually made the cloak I wear with my armor, which came from a Summer Sun Celebration banner.”
Spike smiled, moving his eyes to his glass. He was glad to know Rarity was still the pony he remembered. Though his mind shifted to another question.
“Could you tell me about Canterlot? I haven’t heard the whole story of the battle that Luna led…”
Chorus paused, though this time she didn’t take a sip. She only stared at her glass. Spike intently looked on, waiting for her words.
“… The Battle of Canterlot was the most intense battle Equestria had seen in a long, long time. Though it was a great victory, it did come at a cost. Many lost their lives, the most remembered being Luna’s Seven Sentinels. I knew them, one especially.”
Chorus frowned.
“And… well. Celestia… Celestia’s death wasn’t a casualty of that battle. It was a murder…”
Spike listened further. “A murder? I thought Princess Luna couldn’t save her.”
Chorus shook her head. A flash of rage emerged.
“No. Luna promised she would try to save her. She said that at the Treaty of Haven, and promised us that even as we got to Canterlot. I was there when she… When she killed Celestia. I saw it! It was no ‘mercy killing’. Luna knew exactly what she wanted to do when she walked into that chamber, she…”
Chorus stopped, noticing that she was gripping the edges of the table. She panted for the next few seconds, shutting everything out.
Spike only sat there, helpless as he watched Chorus release her grip and calm herself down with a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. You need to understand… I looked up to Celestia. She was… She’s still my idol. She was why I joined the royal guard in the first place. That’s why I’ll never forgive Luna for what she did. I don’t care if no one else cares… I’ll never forgive her.”
A brief moment of silence followed. By now, Chorus had become relaxed, though Spike couldn’t help but remain worried and stunned at Chorus’ true feelings. He couldn’t blame her, either.
Despite trying to prevent himself from asking any more of Chorus, a question circled in Spike’s thoughts.
“Lib-, er, Chorus. I needed to ask you about-,”
Spike stopped as the waitress came by.
“Sorry, Ms. Liberty. We’re closing early tonight. Sorry for kicking you out like this.”
“It’s alright,” Chorus replied, “Thank you, Bubbly.”
Liberty and Spike left their table in the care of the waitress, proceeding to the exit as the few other café workers began to clean up.
“What were you saying before, Spike?”
Spike sighed. “… Never mind. It wasn’t important.”
“If you say so. Let’s go get some rest. The next delivery of documents should be coming tomorrow morning.”
Spike hadn’t realized how tired he was until he threw off the sheets from his bed as morning came. After a loud, toothy yawn and a long stretch, the young dragon got to his feet and dressed for the day, using the sets of clothes given to him by some of the staff workers of the town hall. It was as simple as clothing could get, but warm and with plenty of cover. It reminded Spike about what Rarity surmised in her documents of Manehatten. It could be a while before clothing becomes as much of an art as it used to be.
Beyond the guest rooms, Spike found his way to the entrance hall, meeting Chorus there. The Guardian leader quickly took note of his exhausted look.
“Good morning. You look tired.” She said.
“Yeah, I feel worn out. But I’m ready for today’s work. Are the documents here yet?”
Before Spike’s question could be answered, a small rattling reached his feet. The wooden floors rumbled with heavy steps, as though a giant was approaching from the front of the town hall.
Spike became alerted, but calmed down as he noticed neither Chorus nor any of the other ponies around him were alarmed.
As the small tremors stopped, Spike heard a voice from the other side of the front doors.
“Wait down in front, Blackstone. Thank you.”
The doors opened to reveal a unicorn mare donned with hardened fabric-armor and various equipment belts and pouches. A pale purple cape flowed from her shoulders as the doors closed behind her.
As she brought herself inside, the mare carried a proud air. She was a battlemage, mostly evident by the combat-oriented mage’s staff slung on her back. The long staff’s upper head held a deep blue gem, while sporting a polished blade on the other end.
She stopped before Spike and Chorus.
“I am here for the Commander of the Guardians of the Sun, Liberty!” She boomed, her voice commanding despite her lesser authority.
Chorus stepped forward. “That would be me. You must be…”
“My name is Trixie. I’ve been tasked with delivering the documents of Pinkamena Diane Pie on Project Pinkerton for your recording efforts.” She said. The show mare was hardly anything resembling a stage-appropriate appearance. Scars from beatings and dangerous trials made her look like she went through Tartarus and back.
Spike scratched the scales on the back of his head. “Trixie? Huh. Whatever happened to your third-person thing?”
Trixie crossed her arms, raising her head high. A scowl appeared from beneath the rim of her spellcaster’s hat.
“I don’t think I need to remind you how much has changed, dragon.”
Chorus stepped in to interrupt.
“If you have the documents from Pinkamena’s Project Pinkerton, we can head over to the archives now.”
As her scowl disappeared, Trixie promptly unhooked a cylinder parcel from her waist belt, handing it off to Chorus. “Here is everything you need. Though I won’t be joining you. I have business here in Haven that I need to attend to.”
“I understand. Thank you for the delivery, Trixie.” Chorus said.
Trixie gave a small nod in reply before swiftly turning back the way she came. Spike was glad she wouldn’t be sticking around.
With the cylinder of documents in hand, Chorus and Spike made their way back to the archives. Processing their recent encounter as he went, Spike turned to Chorus as they stopped before the door.
“Did you feel that rumbling right before we met Trixie? What was that?”
“That was a Pinkerton. You’ll learn more about them once we get into the project documents here. It might get pretty strange, but I’ll fill you in as we go.”
“You had mentioned Pinkie Pie before. Or, at least her full name. She was in charge of the project?”
“That’s right. She’s a lot different, from what I’ve heard.”
“Just like everyone else, I guess…”
As Chorus reached for the doorknob, Spike stopped her.
“Wait, before we start,” Spike said, catching Chorus’ attention, “I need to ask you something important. About our reading of Operation Crescent.”
“What is it?”
“In the reports of Operation Crescent, just after Rarity completed her mission in the Palace in Manehatten, she went into the sewers and found a mare. A purple collared mare. Do you remember? That mare mentioned someone named Lavender…” Spike spoke, his tone suddenly lowering.
Chorus froze as she heard the name. She remained silent.
“Is… Lavender… Is she Twilight?”
Chorus’ eyes darted to the floor. The silence remained, until she looked back up to Spike, staring him in the eyes.
“No. The pony who calls herself Lavender is not Twilight Sparkle.”
“How do you know for sure?” Spike asked.
“…Because I’ve met Lavender. She was…"
Spike listened intently, though Chorus turned away, facing the door.
"... I'm sorry... that’s a story for another time. C’mon. We've got documents to read.”
Liberation War, Year 1
10 months, 14 days, 3 hours, 40 minutes, 30 seconds After Battle of Canterlot (A.B.C.)
Project Pinkerton [CLASSIFIED]
I was… just trying to have fun… Wasn’t I?
“You were… but you didn’t realize what you were doing.”
I’m sorry… If I wasn’t so full of myself…
“It wasn’t your fault... You just didn’t know how to handle what was happening. Rest… Let me do the work.”
Ok… I’ll be around if you ever need me!...
…
The room grew quiet.
“… Uggh… All this hair gets everywhere. I miss those curls.”
Lifting her head from the hard desk, Pinkamena rubbed her tired eyes. One would think that she was just napping, but quite the contrary. Pinkamena had spent the last hour staring at the colorless paint on her bedroom wall. Somewhere along the way her head met the table.
Pinkamena pushed herself away from the desk and stumbled towards the nearby fridge. Pulling the door open, she sluggishly grabbed a jug of grapefruit juice and slinked back towards the table, plopping herself onto the chair. She ignored the empty cup nearby and gulped down half the jug.
Now that Pinkamena’s mind was clearer, other thoughts flooded in. Thoughts of her work, her friends and her home. Thoughts of a time when the idea of war was once nonexistent. The memories seemed like they came from another, far away world. Her cheek fell to rest on the cold desk. Her lips formed a frown as he eyes met the wall once more.
A plethora of papers filled her gaze, pinned and stapled to the wall across from her. Snippets of Haven Alliance reports hung there, each one with the subject of soldiers and units disappearing along the furthest fronts all over Equestria. The vanishings had been blamed on the caribou, but Pinkamena knew that was too simple. There had to be more to it.
Pinkamena sighed. She couldn’t spend any time focusing on solving such mysteries. She was too preoccupied with her research and manufacturing. Her friends in the Ring would keep her up to date on the troubling issue, but for now, nothing could be done.
“… Can we ever truly heal?”
DING! DING!
The booming doorbell sent Pinkamena out of her chair and to the ground. She quickly collected herself and exited the room, taking the grapefruit jug with her. Only a tank top and shorts covered her as she made her way down the hallway and up the stairwell of her old home and workplace.
Sugarcube Corner hadn’t been touched in years. The old storefront was in desperate need of repair, though Pinkamena always forgot about it. She had become so used to living in the brand new basement; the Consulate’s first completed project since Ponyville was liberated nearly nine months ago.
Pinkamena reached the front door and opened it. On the other side was a familiar sight.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie has arrived, with… Oh. Trixie, uhh… hopes she didn’t interrupt anything.”
“No, don’t worry, Trixie. I was on my break. Lunch break.”
“It’s seven in the evening.”
“… Dinner break. Come inside. It’s cold out.”
The former magician stepped inside as Pinkamena closed the front door. In stark contrast to her past attire, Trixie donned a much more humble and torn brown cloak, which covered most of her grey vestments. Strapped on her back was a combat staff, toting an enchanted blue gem on one end and a wide blade on the other. Such staffs were made to help unicorns with coping with a sudden loss of magic.
Trixie wore the clothes of a battlemage in training, but she lacked any confidence in her stance. She had adopted a sense of sheepishness, clearly showing in her posture and expressions despite appearing to act like her old self. Pinkamena could easily see when the Fall had scarred somepony deeply. She saw it in herself every day.
At least Trixie was making a physical recovery. Her lack of scars was likely due to the meticulous care that Heartmenders were so well known for.
As Pinkamena set aside her grapefruit juice on the bakery’s dusty countertop, she noticed the package resting in Trixie’s hands.
“Is that for me?”
“Oh, yes. It was on your doorstep. Trixie thought it was the better decision to bring it in for you.”
The box wasn’t anything special. Simple cardboard with regular sealing. Though there were no mailing stamps or markings. The box felt somewhat heavy as it slid into Pinkamena’s arms.
“Huh. I don’t remember getting any word of a package… Thanks for bringing it in. I’ll take it to my room real quick.” Pinkamena said, “So, decided to pay me a visit tonight Trixie? What’s the occasion?”
“You told Trixie to meet with you again at this time tonight. Remember? For more testing.” Trixie said. It wasn’t the first time she had to remind Pinkamena of scheduled appointments.
“Oh, right, right. Good. I really should get back down to the workshop to finish some things. Let’s go now.”
Heading down the steps, Pinkamena quickly dropped off the package in her room before leading Trixie further into the hallway, entering through the door at the very end of the hall and into an elevator car. Pinkamena pressed a button and the doors slid shut, rocking the elevator and slowly sending it down.
“Have you heard from your sisters?” Trixie asked.
“They’re not here.”
“Trixie knows… Have you heard anything from them?”
“Oh… No I haven’t. I haven’t heard from anyone.”
Hey! What about me?
“That’s not what I meant.”
Trixie cocked her head. “What?”
“Nothing, sorry. Don’t worry if I ramble. Just been tired, is all.”
The elevator slowed to a halt at its destined floor, opening to reveal a hallway made of hardened metal instead of drywall and wood.
The underground complex was a secretive part of the New Monarchy’s Reconstruction Program in Ponyville. The town was barely scraping by, only becoming livable for a scant few. For Pinkamena, her only home was the shallow, hollowed out ground connecting what was once Sugarcube Corner and the Golden Oaks Library. She often forgot that she spent most of her days below the earth.
The two came into a larger room populated with scattered tables hosting an assortment of Alliance projects. Pinkamena opened a nearby locker to fetch more clothing for herself while Trixie went about the room, looking over the many tables bathed in observation lights. Blueprints adorned every available space. Several prints pinned to the walls held designs for automatic wagons retrofitted for military roles, labeled as ‘combat augons’. Other prints showed rifle designs, using combinations of noctral and griffin projectile weapons. The entire workplace seeped with both brilliant innovation and subtle mismanagement.
“You’ve made progress on your cannon.” Trixie mentioned as she examined a table with the nearly-complete frame of a small cannon on it. It was about the size of a large crate, made with a compact barrel and two caterpillar tracks on both sides of the loading chamber. Trixie gripped the handle on the top of the cannon and lifted it, surprised at the weapon’s lightness.
“It’s nearly finished. Once it’s ready it can be mass-produced, now that we’ve taken back larger cities like Manehatten. I’ve designated it the Portable Ranger’s Tracked Cannon.”
“So it’s the P.R.T. Cannon? That’s fitting.”
Did somepony say PARTY?! I can still do those!
“No pony said party. Please stop calling it that.”
Trixie stuttered at Pinkamena's demand. “You… do realize that’s what the acronym sounds like, right?”
“No, I know what it… Ugh. Never mind. Let’s move on, please.” Pinkamena shook her head, moving back to her locker to retrieve her working gloves and her lab coat.
Walking further into the elongated room, Pinkamena stopped as they neared a small, sham-shackled living space. A blanket-draped couch laid nearby. The cover rustled and groaned as a hand and foot stuck out.
“Trixie, you remember Val.” Pinkamena said as she pulled the sheet away. Beneath was a half-asleep mare, a unicorn with a bright grey coat and a blue mane. She brought her hands to her head, rubbing at her tired ice-blue eyes. Her horn was a healthy size, showing no signs of mutilation or recent growth. Pinkamena was happy to have found a unicorn who could help her with her field testing and spell casting. Even if she hadn’t gotten to know her that well yet.
“Hello again.” Trixie said somewhat humbly.
“Argh… mffbh… Hey…” Val responded just before letting loose a yawn.
Pinkamena took notice of Val’s sweat-soaked body. “Feel any better from your nap?”
“Ugh, these... a bit. I just… these cramps are killing me. Literally, I think. I feel like I want to tear out my… auauggh …”
“Go take a shower, Val. We’ll work on those magic charges for the arquebus when you’re up for it.”
“Will do…”
Exhaling shakily, Val limped off towards the workshop exit. Pinkamena turned back towards her path, though Trixie stopped her short. “You’ve never explained to me how Val still has her horn. Was she a conspirator?”
Pinkamena glared at Trixie’s whispering as a teacher would to gossiping students. “Val chooses not to say why. I couldn’t care less if she was a red collar, conspirator, or whatever. Her magic is crucial to the developing projects here, just as crucial as your knowledge of magic application is. If you’ve got some sort of jealousy here, drop it. We’ve got work to do.”
Pinkamena truly did not understand how Val was able to keep her horn, though she had some ideas as to how. But Val’s secret would remain a secret for all Pinkamena cared. She didn’t keep the mare around to study her, only to have her work. Pinkamena discarded any more thoughts on the matter as she led a disgruntled Trixie onwards.
The next room was much larger than the others, holding some of the more unusual equipment in the workshop. The nearest table held a gauntlet fashioned from steel. It was merely a frame, splayed out like a dissected animal under an examining light. Excess amounts of steel and other building material sat in storage containers packed into the corners of the room.
“The Consulate has been sending you a lot to work with.” Trixie noted. Pinkamena diverted herself to the gauntlet’s table, retrieving tools from the drawers beneath it.
“It’s an unnecessary amount, all thanks to the Alliance’s logistical nightmares. Of all the problems we have, logistics shouldn’t be one of them. We have ponies out there disappearing and our commanders are still trying to figure out the difference between material labels and shipment notes.”
Trixie swiftly turned to Pinkamena. “What? Disappearing? Where did you hear that?”
“I get most of what I hear from the Ring.” Pinkamena replied.
Trixie leaned closer. “The Ring? You mean the spies led by the draconequus ? How do you get permission to receive their findings?”
“Yes,” Pinkamena said plainly, “I know most of them personally. I’d rather get my sources from them than the Night Sentinels. The Ring doesn’t have any ulterior motives, unlike Luna’s hounds.”
“Trixie thinks that is debatable, but… what did they say about disappearances?”
Pinkamena sighed. She kept her hands busy with her tools.
“Some Alliance units have been suddenly vanishing. They’re infrequent, but it’s enough to warrant concern. Of course, the caribou are suspect, but some reports show the caribou going missing too. This is a pressing issue… But our infallible Consulate is too busy trying to find its own tail, the Alliance is barely keeping itself together, and Luna doesn’t seem to be interested. I’d rather devote my time to investigating these disappearances than making more weapons. If not that, then at the very least I would rather be trying to find a way to better protect those units in the first place…”
Pinkamena took a long pause. She put her hands at rest and stepped aside, directing Trixie’s attention to the table.
“I’ll rant later. Let’s stay productive. Have a look.” She gestured to the gauntlet.
Trixie took a step forward and inspected the object. It was of a particular metal not often seen in that of Alliance equipment. It appeared very technologically advanced, and its innards displayed from an opened metal panel proved just how complex it was by design. The blue crystal within had an all-too familiar look to that of a caribou item.
“It looks like a caribou shock weapon.” Trixie winced, taking a small step back.
Pinkamena nodded. “It’s essentially a repurposing of the typical caribou weapon design. Instead of runes, Val’s been helping me infuse it with weather-related spells. Wearing this gauntlet would allow the user to have the power of lightning at their fingertips… I have yet to test the magic itself, which is where I was hoping you might help me. And don’t worry, it’s a far cry from the shock batons the caribou used.”
“Uhh, sure…” Trixie guardedly stepped forward. She stared at the gauntlet before turning to Pinkamena again, “…You know, I never realized you were so brilliant. I mean… You were a fantastic baker and event planner, but… Since when have you been able to do all of this?”
Pinkamena grunted. “I’m simply a mare of many talents.”
It had been a long night. Or day. At this point, Pinkamena didn’t care. All she knew was that there was a bed she so desperately wanted to lay on.
Pinkamena closed the door behind her and shrugged off her lab coat, letting it fall to the cold floor. It had only occurred to her now that she had been barefoot the entire day. Or night. She was surprised Trixie hadn't noticed during her time over. Or maybe she had, and simply chose not to say anything. That explained the glances Trixie made towards the floor on her way out.
Before she could make it to the soft pillows and warm covers which drew her near, Pinkamena stopped. A box on her desk caught her eye. She cocked her head and questioned the box’s origins, though quickly remembered Trixie had given it to her, claiming that it was on the front steps.
Pinkamena took a closer look. It was nothing but an ordinary box, much like those of Equestria’s pre-Fall days. Cardboard, taped securely shut, no markings, just as she observed before. It was begging to be opened.
Rummaging through her desk, Pinkamena found a knife and opened the lid of the package. Beneath it was a thick layer of packaging film. Pinkamena sliced it open, only for it to reveal another box.
Though it was baffling, the unique attributes of this second box further grabbed hold of Pinkamena’s attention. It had an ornate design, something which harkened back to days of antiquity. Aesthetics like this were rare even for pre-Fall standards.
Pinkamena felt the complexity and rigidness of the box, running her fingers lightly along its side. She nearly jumped back a step as the box suddenly clicked open. And this time, what she found inside stunned her.
A chrome-like cylinder, with markings Pinkamena had never seen before, sat there. Its lines and curvature glowed faintly with a blue light. Whatever this was, it wasn’t caribou or pony in origin.
Immediately taking interest, Pinkamena felt the object’s texture. She withdrew her hands as the cylinder vibrated, revealing more of its light through the grooves of its silvery metal coat. The glowing grew in intensity, nearly blinding Pinkamena.
After a brief moment, the light slowly faded, withdrawing back inside the cylinder. Pinkamena stared at the foreign object a minute longer, before noticing the additional contents of the ancient box.
A small, folded note stuck to the inside of the lid, kept in place with a piece of tape. Thee thick and heavy lead was barely legible, though the penmanship looked to be from a studious hand. There were only two lines.
For the mare with two minds.
This is the key.
- W.
Spooky!
“Strange… ‘This is the key’? The key to what?” Pinkamena asked herself.
Hey, I know as much as you do! What else is inside?
Seeking the answer to her question, Pinkamena searched through the box, finding a few other items. An old smoking pipe, an oxidized and illegible medal, and only dust, but beneath the mysterious box was something else.
A tightly packed binder sat pressed on the bottom of the box. It was unmarked on the front, but as Pinkamena gently picked it up and flipped through it, the binder revealed a vast amount of detailed papers. Instructions, references, and depictions all gave way to the gift’s true purpose.
“These are… designs for a golem.”
Oh, golems! The huuuuge clay ponies in those old stories, right?
“It would seem so… But they were just folklore… And yet these documents have everything on how to make them. Out of metal. And using… this cylinder.”
Pinkamena skimmed through the roughly drawn schematics on aging parchment. Legs, torso, arms, and head, all noted with specific construction steps regarding underlying framework and metal application. Like the referenced images cut out from old books on mythology, the designs resembled a stallion in shape. The finished golem would tower over most stallions, however.
“This ‘W’ wants us to make a golem. But why? To help the war effort? I’m not even sure how to apply this…”
What about like how the folk stories went? Golems protected ponies. W wants us to make golems to protect ponies!
“You could be right… It would be a good project to make use of all that extra material that was sent our way… And we’ll need Val for the spell infusions…”
Yay! New project!
A tiny smile tugged at the edge of Pinkamena’s lips.
“… A new project…”
One week later
Wow, that was quick!
“Where’ve you been? I don’t think I’ve slept that entire week.”
In your head, silly!
“Yes, I know .”
Pinkamena stood before the marvel of her handiwork. One week of tireless work had produced the intended yet enigmatic product of W .
A massive chassis, resembling that of an eight foot-tall stallion. It lied upon the large slab used as the base for its assembly. All of the excess metal and materials the Consulate had sent went into its creation, with just a few scraps left over.
Val moved beside Pinkamena, checklist in hand.
“I went over the specifics again, like you said. Everything seems in place.”
“Seems?” Pinkamena raised an eyebrow, “We have to be sure, Val. There’s no room for ‘seems’.”
“I’m not an inventor like you. I don’t know what any of this is supposed to mean. I just checked off what matched.” Val groaned, agitated.
“… Noted. Let’s begin the final step.”
Carefully grabbing hold of the strange cylinder with protective gloves, Pinkamena rushed it over to the power generator connected to the golem frame, just as the instructions specified. She placed it within the generator’s clamps, adjusting it to make sure it fit snugly. A singular energy tube lowered onto the top of the cylinder and locked in place.
Pinkamena triple checked the generator and the cylinder it now held. Nothing was being rejected on the generator’s behalf. The pipes and wires feeding into the chest of the frame appeared stable. Everything was ready.
Pinkamena dashed back to the control panel, joining Val behind its armored screen and donning goggles to shield their eyes. Her finger hovered above the transfer switch. There was no way to know what would happen when she flipped it.
“There’s only one way forward.”
Click!
...Sorry! I’m just so excited! I’ll let you flip it.
Rolling her eyes, Pinkamena flipped the switch.
The generator pulsed and shook rapidly, rattling the very walls and forcing Pinkamena and Val to grab hold of the console.
Lifting her head, Pinkamena removed her goggles and stared at the golem. Nothing seemed to have changed. Everything was quiet.
Pinkamena darted around the screen and up to the slab, leaning in closely to the side of the golem’s head. Seconds more ticked by. And then, a tiny rattling echoed from the framework within.
His ‘eye’ creaked open, and a tiny spark of light shown through.
Wrath of the Pegasi, Part 1
The Liberation War, Year 1.
1 month After Battle of Canterlot, (A.B.C.)
Canterlot Valley Campaign. Day 16.
Patience.
Waiting.
Silence.
These were things Rainbow Dash always had trouble coming to terms with. Especially sitting still. Sure, she could spend a good chunk of the day napping or loafing about. But when she had something on her mind, something that needed to be done, she simply had to do it.
Crouching in a bush was not Dash’s idea of being productive.
But she had to make that sacrifice. She and her fellow pegasi needed to buy their time. To wait for the perfect moment to strike.
That’s why they were called Strikers to begin with. They were assault troops. Fast, light, agile, and deadly. Ambush tactics were part of the game plan. When the game called for it.
Knowing they could spring their ambush at any moment didn’t help Dash’s anxiousness. It only drove the rising itch to move even more.
The branches and leaves to Rainbow Dash’s left rustled lightly, giving way to her wing-mate. A pony she had quite a history with.
“Captain says they’ll be here soon.” Stated Lightning Dust in a hushed whisper, crouching to the same level as Rainbow Dash.
Dash kept her gaze on the small holes in the bush, making sure she could see through the dense green leaves.
“She said that five minutes ago.”
“They had to stop for something. One of their wagons might’ve hit a snag. They’re moving now though.” Replied Lightning Dust. She shuffled slowly on the soil to get into a better position.
Rainbow Dash flicked her ears, catching the distinct sound that could only come from a pulled wagon. She turned slowly to her right, where she peeked through the layer of bush to see another fellow Striker. The mare waved her hand down with a look of caution, signifying their target’s arrival.
Along the dirt roadway lying a few yards away came the target; a very lengthy convoy of caribou wagons, pulled by rows of black collared mares chained to the wagon undercarriages. The convoy, numbering nearly a dozen wagons, was escorted by a large squad of caribou guards. Thick tarps covered each of the wagons, shielding their contents from view. The Strikers speculated them to be carrying more resistant mares in dire need of help.
The leading wagon passed by Rainbow Dash’s view, with several more following behind. The turning wheels bumping along the dirt road and the commands of caribou officers were the only sounds to reach the ears of the hidden Strikers.
In between the creaks of the wagons and voices of the caribou came the loud hoot of an owl. The caribou guards within ear shot looked around in confusion, perplexed at hearing an owl in the early afternoon.
That was no owl.
Rainbow Dash braced herself, priming her muscles for what was about to come.
A second of almost complete silence followed. Then, with rapid execution, an array of muzzle flashes from the surrounding bushes ignited from the pistols of several Strikers. Conical projectiles found their marks in the caribou guards furthest from the road. Those closer to the wagons had only seconds to react.
A commanding voice rose from the smoke.
“NOW!! TEAR THE BASTARDS TO PIECES!!”
In an instant, Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust sprung from their hiding places following the battle cry, along with dozens of pegasi from the surrounding brush. They furiously charged into the side of the convoy, each Striker dual-wielding deadly serrated blades. Their featherless wings were displayed with an unfettered pride as they rushed forward.
Simultaneously, another group of Strikers launched themselves at the convoy from the row of bushes on the opposite side of the roadway, catching the entire wagon convoy in a vicious pincer movement.
As the Strikers fell upon their enemy, all sense of coordination melted into pure chaos. Filled to the brim with adrenaline, anger, and mercilessness, the Strikers carved into the beleaguered convoy. Metal clashed against metal. Blood spilt onto the coarse dirt as bodies fell.
Rainbow Dash had leapt onto the first caribou she came across with her serrated swords primed, impaling him to the ground. She quickly got up and turned her attention to another, sidestepping as the caribou drew his axe and slammed it into the ground.
Dashing right up to the caribou guard, Rainbow Dash locked her swords along his axe’s grip and spun around, throwing him off balance and allowing her to step around behind him. She slashed both blades across his back, staggering him enough for Lightning Dust to follow through with a finishing jab to the stomach.
Another two caribou appeared from the far side of a nearby wagon, choosing Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust as their targets.
“I’ve got your back.” Dash muttered.
Lightning Dust only grunted, her eyes locked onto her enemies and her grip on her blades tightening.
The two opposing caribou moved in to engage them, rearing their shock batons. The first swung his pulsing weapon horizontally, causing Rainbow and Lightning to duck. As the second caribou swung downward in suit, the two Strikers spun to the side and brought their swords to bear against the caribou electrified steel.
Rainbow and Lightning weaved and rolled, one blocking a caribou blow as the other dodged a swing. Coming full circle, Lightning Dust dove into a somersault in between the two caribou, causing the first to accidentally hit his comrade. Rainbow followed through the slip, cutting the impaired caribou and stabbing the other with both swords. Lightning Dust ascended from her roll and finished the impaired caribou, driving her blades into his back.
The two Strikers panted, their opponents defeated. The other Strikers wrapped up the remainder of the fighting, securing the convoy for themselves. The enslaved mares were freed of their chains, expressing their joy and gratitude to the pegasi of the Alliance. No later did the pegasi begin sifting through the wagons for whatever cargo they held.
Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust helped scrounge through the convoy, seeking out any other mares held prisoner within the wagons. However, the wagons only contained foodstuffs and miscellaneous equipment. Disappointing, but nonetheless useful.
Rainbow Dash came around to one of the last wagons, brushing aside its hanging covers and hauling out a chest. She snapped off the lock with a downward stomp and flipped the box open.
“Whoa…”
“What is it?” Lightning Dust asked, peering over Dash’s shoulder as she knelt.
Dash lifted out the backpack, shaped like a metal disc with a body harness attached. Connected to its sides were two extending metal wire frames, acting like arms which matched up to a pegasus’ wings. The frame’s white tinted steel was dull and worn.
“It’s a cloud rig. One that might still work. If… any of us still had feathers.”
Dash recalled using cloud rigs. They were one of the earliest known machines created in Equestria, formed of magic and unique cloud materials to allow pegasi to fly at heights which were considered impossible to reach. While pegasi could hover in air or glide for some distances with a healthy pair of wings, they could not ascend very high. Cloud rigs were what allowed the Wonderbolts to perform their amazing feats, and it is said that early cloud rigs allowed historical pegasi to construct the first cloud cities.
The cloud rig was a fantastic find, as most had been destroyed by the caribou, but it was utterly useless. A cloud rig could only operate if the user had a full set of feathers, and virtually all of the pegasi which made up Dash’s unit of Strikers had none, thanks to the Fall. And although both genders of ponies were starting to overcome past grievances with one another, there were hardly any stallions in Dash’s unit. The few that were belonged to a particular sect of stallions who, after realizing their actions under the crystal heart’s corruption, ceremoniously plucked their own feathers in atonement. No one would be using this cloud rig anytime soon.
Lightning Dust briefly examined the cloud rig as Rainbow Dash held it. “It’s still a good find. I’m sure the Captain would want to see it.”
“She has a name, you know.” Rainbow stated plainly.
Lightning Dust scoffed. “I know.”
With a stern departure, Lightning Dust moved to the front of the wagon, aiding a few of the other Strikers in hauling it to a collection point to be dumped and exhumed of its supplies. Older wagons like these were favored by the caribou, since they relied primarily on slave labor for most of their needs. They mostly avoided using Equestria’s auto-wagons; wagons self-powered by magic conductors, which were finishing development just before the Fall. The Alliance had placed a priority on acquiring the means to manufacture auto-wagons, or ‘augons’ as they were commonly nicknamed, for military use. For now, the Alliance made do with whatever outdated transportation they could find.
Placing the cloud rig back into its chest, Rainbow Dash turned and walked down the line of driverless wagons. She passed by other Strikers working with the newly freed black collars to set the wagons on their way, or to dispose of the corpses from the battle. A nearby ditch served as the dumping grounds for the bodies, which already begun to gather a foul stench.
Dash arrived at the very last wagon, coming around to see a congregation of mares. Most of them were the convoy mares, now having their runed collars removed by a caribou prisoner. The stag was the lone survivor of the convoy’s guard, and was allowed to live only if he agreed to remove the collars of the now liberated slaves.
The last collared mare, with a flash of the caribou’s antlers, was freed from her remaining symbol of slavery. The caribou stag, on his knees with his wrists bound before him, huffed from the constant strain on his magic.
“Alright… There… Now let me-”
The stag’s words were cut short as a sword was thrust into his back, piercing out from his chest. He slumped to the ground as the Striker Captain withdrew her sword with a grisly sound.
“Captain Spitfire.” Dash announced, standing at attention.
“Rainbow Dash, just in time.” Spitfire replied, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. It was the only indication of her wellness.
Captain Spitfire had stood out among the senior officers of the Wonderbolts in the past. She did the same in the Strikers, quickly becoming the leading officer of one of the first Striker units formed following Luna’s victory in Canterlot.
Her Striker’s armor was battered and prideful, showing off its scars and leaving two holes for her featherless wings to stretch out, much like the other pegasi. She had two of the sharpest serrated blades, riddled with jagged edges from previous duels. A large strap resting across her chest held holsters for three griffin fire dart pistols, giving her an incredible amount of firepower at her fingertips.
However, it wasn’t her arsenal which made Spitfire stand out amongst her troops. Pressed on the bridge of her snout and against her brow was a blackened visor, modified from the old pair of flight goggles she used to wear as a Wonderbolt. The glass was a dark charcoal, and the head straps and visor cap were fastened tightly to prevent them from being dislodged.
Spitfire never took off her visor. She wore it at all times, day and night, to protect her damaged eyes from the elements. A magical enchantment placed upon the visor helped to enhance Spitfire’s weakened vision no matter how bright or dark her surroundings were.
While it gave Spitfire a menacing and calculating appearance, her black visor stood out as a reminder of the torture many went through at the hands of their masters. Yet another symbol of the scars inflicted by the Fall.
“All of the mares here have been taken care of. We only have this last wagon left to pick apart. Rainbow Dash, go keep an eye on the supplies. I’ve got to meet with another Striker group looking to rendezvous with us before we head to Ponyville.” Spitfire explained, as though she had completely forgotten about the prisoner she just executed in cold blood.
Rainbow Dash ignored the body of the stag, focusing on the Captain. “Yes, ma’am. Lightning Dust and I found a cloud rig that seems to still be usable. Might be worth keeping.”
Spitfire opened the box as Dash presented it to her. She nodded, pleased with its contents. “Agreed. For now, keep it with the other supplies at the collection point.”
As two other Strikers tossed the lifeless caribou stag into the ditch with the other corpses, Captain Spitfire departed. Rainbow Dash made sure the last wagon was ready to move, trying to block out the awful smell of rot and death. She only hoped the stench wouldn’t follow her.
Ponyville was an important target for the Haven Alliance, despite its meager standing. It was positioned perfectly between two back roads which ran through the Canterlot Valley. Though Ponyville’s true significance laid in its promise as a subtle base of operations for the New Monarchy to help rebuild heartland Equestria. It had been sought after by the Consulate to use as an ideal candidate for its Reconstruction Program. Ponyville could very well become the new heart of progress and innovation in Equestria. But it had to be retaken first.
Those first steps have already been made, thanks to the Striker assault on the caribou convoy destined for Ponyville. What was gleaned from the wagons was now being sorted and kept on a small patch of land just on the fringes of Whitetail Wood, as well as the empty wagons themselves. Much of the supplies consisted of necessities for a small town. The apple Rainbow Dash had picked from another chest was one such example.
As she spied her wing mate sitting atop a large crate, Rainbow Dash made her way over. She took a seat on a smaller crate next to Lightning Dust, juggling her half-eaten apple in one hand. Lightning Dust didn’t budge, keeping her gaze outward towards a nearby field.
The silence wasn’t anything new. She and Lightning Dust hardly ever talked when outside of a battle. The most they ever did was tolerate each other. It’s been like that ever since they were paired up.
Rainbow felt like being different today. Things were boring enough in between the action.
“So, uhhh… The… clouds are looking nice today.”
Lightning Dust tried her best to hide the grimace on her face, though she failed to hide the snap in her voice.
“What is it, Dash?”
“I’m just trying to talk to you. Sheesh.”
“Why now, of all times?”
“Just bored is all. Need someone to talk to. In the past few weeks we’ve been wing mates, you haven’t said a whole lot.”
Lightning Dust scoffed.
“…Did you finish the Wonderbolt academy?”
Dash was surprised by the jump in topic, but she could care less.
“Yeah. I was planning on taking the test for the reserves.” Said Dash, mindfully keeping herself from sounding too proud. Considering that Lightning Dust was not only demoted after her stint in the academy, but discharged as well, Dash didn’t want to accidentally press any buttons.
“… I was going to try and sign up again.”
Dash looked up in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. Of course, the day I had decided on doing it was the day everything went to tartarus. I walked into the recruitment offices in the morning, before any reports of the caribou had spread.” muttered Lightning Dust. She tilted her head forward, pushing aside a portion of her mane to reveal a scar near the top of her skull.
“The recruitment officer clocked me right here. When I wake up…”
She fanned out her featherless wings. Featherless to a point. Some of the pegasi had started to regrow mismatched clumps of their feathers. It still didn’t look very pleasant.
“We’ve all been there.” Rainbow Dash stated, trying to find comforting words, though she quickly realized Lightning Dust needed none of it.
“No shit we’ve all been there. I’ll just be happy once we kick those caribou assholes out of our home. And once we do, I’m going to find a place to live and stay there for the rest of my life. I’m done chasing dreams.”
Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. “What, all alone by yourself in some house?”
With an exasperated sigh, Lightning Dust shook her head. She turned to look Rainbow Dash in the eye. There was no anger or annoyance in her expression. Only exhaustion.
“I’m not like you, Dash. I couldn’t reach my dreams. You did, even if it was for a little while. Why should I face failure again and again when I can just find some peace?”
That dreaded silence found its way back. Dash tried thinking of something better to talk about, though Captain Spitfire’s presence caused her and Lightning Dust to jump to their feet. A whole column of other Strikers, the second unit Spitfire had mentioned earlier, marched past them.
“At ease, you two.” Spitfire ordered casually.
“Need anything, ma’am?” Rainbow Dash asked, unsure of Spitfire’s mood thanks to her blackened visor.
“I just came from the meeting with the other Captain. Brainstorming ideas on how to take Ponyville. We should have the numbers to overwhelm the caribou, but we could take casualties if we outright assault the place. None of our officers could come up with a good plan. Any ideas?”
Rainbow Dash looked around while she thought, until her eyes landed upon the wagons lying nearby, still covered with their heavy tarps. “I think I have an idea, ma’am.”
“I’m all ears, Rainbow Dash.”
“What if we hid inside the wagons, underneath the tarps? We could have our stallions pull them, so long as the caribou don’t realize they’re featherless. Once we are in the town center, we can spring an ambush, and draw attention away from the perimeter so the other Striker unit can come in. We could take Ponyville from the inside out.”
“I’m not about to put all of our lives in the hands of a few stallions.” Spitfire stated, a frown forming on her lips.
“With all due respect ma’am, it’s either that, or risking a direct attack.” Rainbow Dash calmly replied.
Lightning Dust cut in. “Our stallions plucked their own feathers to try and make up for their actions. Let them redeem themselves. They clearly want to help.”
With a scratch of her chin, Spitfire conceded. “Alright. We’ll use the wagons.”
Spitfire went to relay her decision to her officers, who quickly spread the word. In moments, the Strikers gathered their gear and prepared the salvaged wagons, cramming in as many pegasi as they could beneath the large tarps. Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust joined, readying themselves for the next battle to come.
For Rainbow Dash, this battle would be personal. The memories she cherished from a time worth living still rested in Ponyville. And Dash was damned if she was going to leave those memories in the hands of the caribou any longer.
The convoy en route to resupply the caribou still clinging onto Ponyville had finally arrived, despite their delays. Though the stallions pulling them were unexpected, the perimeter guards had allowed the convoy to pass through. That was only minutes ago.
Before the caribou in charge of the town could inspect their newly received supplies, a volley of ear-shattering shots were unleashed from beneath the tarps of the many wagons, puffs of smoke flowing out in all directions. Following the blasts by seconds, the Strikers launched their surprise attack, jumping forth from the tarps and throwing themselves upon the shocked caribou.
Spitfire appeared at their center, fury in her voice.
“Strikers! Fan out!”
As the ambush unfolded into a spanning brawl, Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust leapt out of their wagon to join the fray, coming around the nearby town hall and engaging their enemy.
As caribou soldiers moved into the center of the town to combat against the Alliance attack, the second unit of Strikers hiding in the outskirts moved in, eliminating what remained of the perimeter guard and flanking the caribou. The town of Ponyville transformed into a warzone in mere minutes. Rising pegasi fought ferociously against caribou soldiers and some traitor stallions, as caribou cows and other civilians either fled or attempted to hide.
With the center of town already overrun and the caribou disintegrating in command, Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust moved southward towards Sweet Apple Acres in pursuit of a fleeing force of caribou and traitor stallions. They sprinted ahead of their comrades, trailing the escaping caribou as closely as they could.
“We can’t let those bastards get away. Come on!” Lightning Dust yelled.
Gaining speed, Lightning Dust sprinted ahead, with Rainbow Dash close behind. The two Strikers approached the old schoolhouse, moving alongside it. They neared the corner of the building, preparing to swing around and continue their pursuit.
Suddenly, a large caribou appeared from the other side of the corner, taking Lightning Dust by complete surprise.
With a heave, the caribou swung the edge of his shock baton directly into Lightning Dust’s head, knocking her to the ground as the electric shock made contact with her skull. Her swords flew out of her hands as she became still.
“No!!”
Rainbow Dash drew her fire dart pistol and shot the caribou point-blank, killing him instantly. She grabbed hold of her partner’s limp arms and dragged her to the schoolhouse, hurriedly bashing open the door and bringing her inside.
The interior of the schoolhouse was empty, save for its collection of desks. It was far from the schoolhouse it once used to be, as it was still slathered with the propaganda that was churned out during the Fall. The state of the school was revolting, but Dash ignored it as she slammed the door shut.
Shoving aside the desks, Dash hauled her incapacitated wing mate to the far wall of the schoolhouse, carefully leaning her underneath a chalkboard. She quickly checked her pulse, breathing a sigh of relief upon discovering Lightning Dust to be alive.
“They went in here!”
Shouts from outside reached Dash’s ears as heavy footsteps surrounded the schoolhouse. Axes and batons slammed against the windows and the door as the caribou looked for a way in.
Rainbow Dash hurriedly reloaded her fire dart pistols and drew her swords, readying herself to defend Lightning Dust with her life. She stood in the center of the classroom, attempting to keep eyes on every possible entrance while bracing herself for a fight.
The caribou aggressors outside suddenly stopped their breaching efforts, seemingly preoccupied with something else. Sounds of pistol shots and slashing swords came from nearby. A moment of silence set in, followed by a hectic knocking on the schoolhouse door.
“Friendly! Friendly!” A mare’s voice pleaded.
Rainbow Dash hastily opened the door, allowing the mare inside. She shut it and locked it once more, before turning to her visitor.
The mare was clearly a Striker, though not from Dash’s unit. She assumed her to be from the second unit which had attacked from the town outskirts. Her armor was mildly worn from use, though still seemed new. Her purple coat and snow-white mane and tail were very unfamiliar, along with her bright pink eyes. But none of those things caught Dash’s attention. This mare felt completely alien to her, thanks to her most outstanding feature.
The mare had a healthy pair of wings, filled with bright purple feathers. They showed no signs of abuse whatsoever, and they were certainly not new.
Her voice snapped Dash out of her sudden stupor.
“I heard a struggle coming from the schoolhouse, and I noticed you dragging your friend inside. I’m here to help.”
“Thanks,” Dash replied, “I’m Rainbow Dash.”
“I’m Velocity.” said the purple mare, shaking Dash’s hand firmly.
More grunts and shouts from more caribou came through the windows, prompting Rainbow Dash and Velocity to arm themselves. The school door suddenly burst open from a forceful kick.
Velocity immediately put a shot through the first caribou, causing the one behind him to hesitate long enough for Rainbow Dash to lunge forward with her blades, stabbing his chest and kicking him backwards into the other caribou.
As another came through the door, some caribou climbed through the windows, forcing Velocity to turn to face them as Dash continued guarding the door. She slashed another caribou down as Velocity made use of her agility to outmaneuver the caribou, leaping on the desks and broadly slashing at her attackers.
The fighting lasted for only a few seconds, before most of the caribou soldiers were defeated. Rainbow Dash paused for a quick breather, unaware of the remaining caribou about to bring his shock baton down upon her from behind. Velocity’s warning was cut short by a single pistol shot.
The caribou fell dead to the ground. Rainbow Dash whipped around and saw a dazed Lighting Dust, her pistol raised, smoke seeping from its barrel.
“Hah… Too slow...”
The Battle of Ponyville lasted only an hour. The entire town was liberated thanks to the tactics and tenacity of the Strikers.
Rainbow Dash walked among the streets, looking around at the town she knew as home, which she had not seen for years. It was very different. More pale and dreary than she remembered. None of the happiness which made Ponyville so welcoming had survived the years of the Fall. The fact that none of Rainbow Dash’s old friends were here only deepened that sense of emptiness.
Along the streets and corners, Alliance Strikers rounded up the few caribou left over from the battle. Nearly every soldier had been killed, leaving the job of removing black collars to the caribou civilians who were being rounded up into holding areas. Those mares who were red or purple collars were simply cordoned off in their own holding areas, separate from the caribou. Rainbow Dash noticed a few familiar faces among the red collars being escorted to their holding sites. Mainly Roseluck and Cheerilee, and some other local residents. None of her close friends were among those gathered.
None of the Strikers had any kind of pity for their prisoners. Whether they were kept behind a fence or held at a weapons point, the prisoners were often berated and mocked. It wasn’t uncommon for some mares to take out their anger on a caribou stag, whether he was a soldier or not. The mares who were really, really upset would direct their violence upon cows, sowing terror among them.
Though she shared the anger and frustration that was born from the Fall, Rainbow Dash kept herself from stooping to that level. If she needed to vent her hatred, she would punch something else. Never an unarmed prisoner, even if that prisoner was a caribou.
Rainbow Dash soon arrived at the medical tent set up near the town hall, its white tarps spanning outward over a large area. It was manned by a small group of battle medics, led by a few Heartmenders from Haven. They had followed the second Striker unit from a distance, and moved into Ponyville to care for the wounded once the fighting had stopped, bringing the salvaged convoy supplies with them.
The front flaps of the main tent parted as Dash approached, giving way to two medics carrying a resting and awake Lightning Dust on a stretcher.
Lightning Dust asked the medics to stop for a second as they neared Rainbow Dash. She turned her head towards Dash, revealing the thick bandaging around her head.
“Hey, Dash…”
“Hey Lightning Dust. You feeling any better?”
Lightning Dust chuckled with a weak smile.
“Yeah… Just got a nasty bruise to the head is all… Another scar to add to the collection. According to the meds, I’m spent for a while. Maybe even for the whole war.”
“Sorry to see you go so soon. I guess you’ll be able to settle down in that lonely house a lot sooner now, huh.”
With a happier grin, Lightning Dust nodded.
“Guess so. Listen, Rainbow Dash…
Lighting Dust took Rainbow Dash’s hand, holding it tightly.
“Thanks for saving me.”
“You’re welcome, buddy.”
With another smile, Lightning Dust let go, allowing the medics to carry her to off to another medical station set up nearby. Rainbow Dash waited until she was out of sight before heading inside the main tent before her.
The inside was crowded, though surprisingly clean. Most of the injured Strikers had already been stabilized and patched up, either resting from fatigue or begging the medics to let them rejoin their units. The few who had fallen in the fighting were carted out on covered stretchers.
Passing by the medical cots on her way to the opposite end of the tent, Dash stood before another flap leading to a smaller, more secluded room. Unlike the rest of the tent, there was no light coming from the other side of the flap.
“Come on in, Rainbow Dash.”
Parting the flap to one side and letting it fall back into place, Rainbow Dash entered the darkened room. Sitting on an examiner’s chair was Captain Spitfire, flanked by a battle medic on one side and a Heartmender on the other.
Dash stood at attention, but couldn’t help but stare at Spitfire as she turned her head
Spitfire’s visor laid on a small table nearby. Her once blazing orange eyes were now pale and milky, blurring the distinctive line separating her pupils from her irises. Each blink she made caused Dash to shift uncomfortably.
“Uhh… Are you sure you want to see me now, ma’am?” Rainbow Dash asked as respectively as she could.
Spitfire nodded, much to the chagrin of her healers.
“I know, it doesn’t look pretty. But this is what happens when someone forcibly tapes open your eyelids for days at a time. The Heartmenders have been giving me checkups every now and then, to make sure I don’t go blind. What I really need are eye-menders.”
The Heartmender tending to Spitfire only smiled courteously, her hands placed upon the Captain’s shoulders. “These healing sessions take time, Captain Spitfire. They don’t work instantaneously. With monitored sessions, your eyes will-”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you before. Just hurry up. Please.”
Spitfire returned her attention to Rainbow Dash standing before her.
“I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done, Rainbow Dash. Your plan did better than I expected. I’ve decided to promote you to ranking officer. You answer directly to me now.”
“Thank you very much, ma’am.” Dash replied, failing to hold back a proud smirk.
“Which reminds me about your current lack of a wing mate, with Lightning Dust out of commission. I talked briefly with the Captain of our partnered Striker unit, and we agreed to pair you up with Velocity, the mare who helped you in the schoolhouse. You’ll be a team from now on.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dash hadn’t seen Velocity since after they brought Lightning Dust to the medics, though the mare hadn’t left her thoughts. The fact that she still had her wings kept tugging at Dash’s curiosity.
Spitfire continued.
“We’ll be staying in Ponyville until we receive orders from the higher-ups. The best bet is that we will be told to head west, and probably to join up with a griffin unit along the way. Should be a few days wait. You and Velocity should pick up your patrol charges in the meantime. You’re dismissed.”
With another salute, Rainbow Dash departed, catching one last sight of Spitfire’s damaged eyes before they were covered by the visor once more.
Exiting the tent, Rainbow Dash was surprised to see her new partner, Velocity, outside waiting for her.
“Hello again, Rainbow Dash. Did Captain Spitfire bring you up to speed?” she asked, smiling plainly as she crossed her arms.
Rainbow Dash got off a nod, though her mind was fixated on Velocity’s feathery wings. She scanned them with a squint of her eyes, determining them to be as real as can be, as far as appearances go. Dash couldn’t hold back her thoughts.
“You still have… How do you still have your feathers?”
Velocity sighed, though still kept a friendly tone in her voice.
“Well, I guess if we’re going to be wing mates I might as well tell you now. Let’s go find a place to sit.”
The two pegasi walked towards Ponyville’s town hall, finding a suitable spot along the extending stone steps. Velocity got herself comfortable, with Dash sitting beside her intently.
“… When the Fall broke out, I was able to go into hiding. I’ve never actually been forced to wear a collar or have my feathers plucked because I was never found.”
“How the heck did you pull that off? Where did you hide?” Dash asked, dumbfounded.
“I mostly hid in Cloudsdale thanks to some friends. But I had managed to relocate just before the Day of Rebellions. Er, the day-”
“The day the caribou brainwashing was lifted. And the day Cloudsdale was destroyed.” Rainbow Dash added. The Day of Rebellions was a crucial point during Luna’s efforts to unite Equestria. For the pegasi of Cloudsdale, however, the day only held the horrifying memories of their great cloud city falling from the sky.
Velocity nodded. She lifted a hand to the back of her mane, fussing with the low, short ponytail at its end.
“What did you do before the Fall?”
“I worked as a bartender aboard one of the royal air liners based out of Canterlot. My special talent involves making drinks. I know what you’re thinking. My parents named me Velocity because they thought I’d be a cloud rig racer or maybe a Wonderbolt. Turns out the fastest I’d ever go in my life was at the pace of an airliner. Fate, huh.”
“Heh, yeah. That’s pretty funny.”
“Enough about me. What’s your story, Rainbow Dash?”
Rainbow Dash chuckled. “You probably already know everything about me.”
“I know as much as any average pony does about the Element of Loyalty,” Velocity replied, “But there’s more to a pony than just her reputation. And even a pony like you needs to de-stress, you know? The best way to do that is to tell your story. Especially when you have somebody listening.”
Velocity had a good point. With the constant movement and fighting, along with nearly losing Lightning Dust, Rainbow Dash did feel stressed.
“When you put it that way… Ok. Before the Fall, I was Ponyville’s weather pony manager. That and a Wonderbolt cadet for a little while. But aside from that I spent most of my time doing stuff with my friends.”
“Were you born in Ponyville?”
“No, I grew up in Cloudsdale. I moved to Ponyville on my birthday, believe it or not. Been a few years since then. Though I did a lot as a kid in Cloudsdale. I was part of the Junior Speedsters, and I also met my best friend… Well… former best friend, Fluttershy.”
“Former?” Velocity asked plainly, “Something happen between you two?”
Dash sighed in frustration. “Yeah. The Fall happened. When everything was being torn apart, what was the first thing she did? Choose red. She liked what was happening to us. So did Rarity and Twilight and Pinkie! The only pony who still had any common sense was Applejack. How could they do that? After all we’ve been through together!”
“A lot of ponies sympathized with the caribou, but don’t forget what the crystal heart was doing to all of us. Have you seen any of them since Luna’s victory in Canterlot? They probably aren’t the same red collars as you last knew them.”
“No, I haven’t. But until I see any of them again, they’re not worth the time. Nopony who chose red should be worth anypony’s time.” Dash replied stubbornly.
Velocity paused for a moment, a brief look of sadness appearing on her face before she continued. “You know, there are a bunch of ponies who faked choosing red. To give themselves an easier time while trying to fight the caribou or help others. A lot of them former black collars too. How do you feel about them?”
“Well… That I could understand, I guess. But how can you trust someone who chose red and then says she faked it? She could be just saying that to get off easy.”
“We’d have to rebuild that trust the same way we are rebuilding trust with the stallions,” Velocity argued calmly, “With time and patience. That’s what Princess Luna has been saying.”
Rainbow Dash let out a frustrated huff. “Don’t get me started on Luna. I don’t care how much good she’s done for us. Nothing justifies killing Celestia. Oh, she was ‘beyond saving’. Bullshit! It doesn’t make any sense at all!”
“Who knows what was going through her mind when she did that. But either way, we wouldn’t be here without her.”
“You know, that’s what bothers me the most. Isn’t anyone worried that Luna could be insane? For all we know the Fall messed her up so much that she could be a… a psychopath leading us all to our deaths. And now she’s making new governments, alliances, and everything in between! And she just murders Celestia and no one seems to care!” Dash exclaimed, throwing her arms outward before rubbing her head.
Velocity waited for a few seconds to let Dash cool off. As she panted and found some composure, Velocity smiled.
“Feel better?”
“I… Yeah. Felt pretty good to let all that out. Thanks. Are you sure you’re not a therapist or something?”
“I made drinks for a living. Running a bar with early birds and late-goers around makes you the listening type. That’s my way of helping others.” Velocity replied with a smile.
“Well… it’s good to know that ponies like you are still around.” said Rainbow Dash as she hopped to her feet. She lent a hand to Velocity, pulling her up from her seat.
“Let’s go grab our patrol orders. It’s about time we got some more exercise.”
“Alright,” Velocity stretched, “I’ll race you to the command tent.”
Rainbow Dash grinned.
“So long as you don’t use those wings of yours… Then you’re on!”
