Chapter 1

Fate is a rather surprising creature, in many cases. It is a fickle thing, with you one second and against you the next, changing sides with the terrain of the clock work, and never makes alliances. There are those who say that the greatest of events start as small happenings. Even the most innocent of events, from a pin drop to a flower crushed under the heel can start the greatest of wars and the bloodiest conflicts.

For the case of Starlight Glimmer, she wasn't sure if finally finding Shadow Walker was fate or coincidence, though she had no doubt that her former mentor would have a few things to say to that. I don't believe in fate, Starlight, Twilight would probably say. I believe things like fortune telling and preordained futures are bogus, but I do know that time works in mysterious ways, and if we try to twist it around or move it ourselves, the closer we come to crushing ourselves under the great wheel. So let everything happen as it will be, make the right choices, and you will find yourself in a place you never expect.

She had never felt so critical of the thought. Oh, sure she let time run, and got into places she didn't expect, but not ones that she was entirely comfortable with.

Would you say that it was coincidence that caused you to vanish, Twilight? You and all your friends? Coincidence that got our world plunged into war with a monomaniacal psychopath? Or was it fate?

At least the unexpected came with a few benefits. Now instead of learning friendship lessons (which kinda bummed her out; she liked friends as much as the next), she was an ace airship pilot who also used her magic to perform tricks in the air, and she could also fix and build things, often coming back from the workshop with more than one grease stain on her pink coat, and her purple and blue hair mussed from work. Then it was shower and brush, and it all started over again.

Now, sitting in the hut of a small shantytown in one one of Equestria's most inhospitable wastelands, Starlight thought about how her travels have made a great deal of importance to the Rebellion. They were counting on her to bring back one small shard of proof that the nation's mighty heroes were still alive.

Counting on us, she thought. She never traveled alone, and with her for this adventure was a small dragon with purple scales and tree-green spines. He wore a robe over his body for the sand that blew across the Badlands, for it tended to irritate the gaps between his scales. If anyone looked at him, they would probably say he was ten years old, but he was actually 15 in dragon years, and was arrested that way. He was the Peter Pony of all dragons.

But for now, he was irritable with having to wait for their audience with the one who could have a valuable piece of information. "Oh, how long do we have to wait till were allowed in, I'm freezing out here." He pulled his cloak and hood over himself to keep out the Badland's cold breezes.

She patted him on the head with a smile, then checked to look down at her weapons. They were two old revolvers, made when Equestria was in the beginnings of the technology boom, and a gift to her from her former mentor, evidenced by the cutie mark of the former Princess of Friendship etched into the oak wood grip. They weren't as good as laze guns or shock bows, but they could still tear through trooper armor as easily as shooting paper. It was also a kind of memento to the kind of life she used to have.

For now, they were sitting in the black leather holsters, under her brown cloak, well oiled and safely tucked away from sight. She pulled the cloak over them, reassured.

The cloth over the hut's entry lifted to reveal a a female zebra, covered in dark and light gray stripes, her mane in the Mohawk design that Starlight was familiar with. Zyleena gestured for them to follow, then retreated into the hut with a swish of her tail.

Starlight looked down at Spike, as he pulled his robe over his shoulders. She felt for him; they had spent half their time in their lives to find those they loved the most, it was probably going to be a either a revaluation or a real shocker to know for a fact that Twilight - and all the other Five - was alive. She decided that he would have to be strong for what was coming.

With that final thought, she and the young dragon both entered the hut.

Zyleena was perhaps one of the few friends (aside from Spike) that Starlight had left in this war-torn world, a world where you lost friends, or they lost you. At first glance, the zebra of 20 didn't seem like the kind of creature who would want to join in the Rebellion, or the war. She was lithe and slender-built, with leaf green eyes and a sweet temper that reminded Starlight of Fluttershy.

But unlike Fluttershy, Zyleena was made of tough stuff, and the zebra would defend her friends to the last breath if need be. She was also a terribly wise creature, and knew many things from using a gun to healing wounds, like the late Zecora. The only flaw in her being was that she had difficulty speaking Basic Equestrian, and only spoke in her native language.

Currently, it was in this language that she was speaking to an colt who appeared to have seen better days. His iron gray coat, perhaps lustrous in his youth, was now dull with age. His hooves were chipped and cracked in many places, a few of his teeth were missing, and black mane was beginning to recede a little atop his head. The only thing that contrasted were his eyes, which still burned with a kind of youth, and his voice, as he spoke in zebra language, was strong even in the frailness of the elderly.

He looked up to see Starlight and Spike enter the hut, which was practically bare except for a table, fireplace, and bedroll. He got up, spoke a few zebra words to Zyleena, and the young zebra waited outside. It seemed like this was going to be a hard reunion with hope.

The two ponies - one old, one young - and a single dragon looked at each other for a long time, still as statues, never moving, their faces unreadable. It was Shadow Walker who broke the silence.

"It's been a long time, Starlight Glimmer. It's a pleasure to see you again."

She shrugged. "Well," she said, "it's been five years since you left the rebellion, so I'd say it's been long."

He smiled, then said, "I suppose I'm right in assuming that you came for the location of my former friend?"

Starlight nodded. That was good enough for him. "Thought so. But before we talk turkey, why don't you have some potato leek soup? You two look positively famished."

On any occasion, the Badlands, when nobody just saw it as a dust bowl with no water, food, or any place to grow crops, some would've considered the Badlands to be a very beautiful place at night. The stars shone in the clear, ink blue sky over large geological formations made from sandstone, nature the artist and sculptor of such fine beauty that no artist could ever hope to recreate. It was truly a natural gem that everyone had to put on their bucket list.

It was also peaceful too. Anyone who traveled into the forsaken place (if they had enough common sense to pack food and water for a good few days) were often recommended to sleep without a tent under the stars, listening to the sounds of the desert and focus on nothing else. This peace, however, was due in part to it's geography. It was a dry, sandy place with no hope finding water or food for miles. No one would dare venture dare without any form of sustenance to last for days.

That did not, however, mean that the people of the village were helpless. They were survivors who learned how to take the saguaro and barrel cactus, and the juniper tree (the only three plants that existed in the barren wastes, if you knew where to look) and cultivated them for food and water. The land, in a sense, was their beneficiary, for it provided protection from inexperienced soldiers of the Federation, and any dangerous creature who wandered into the Badlands by mistake.

But that didn't mean they couldn't be crossed. All you needed was bigger tools.

Three miles from the little village, traveling at a near breakneck pace, was a large transport, boxlike in a sense, though the front was slanting upward to allow for an entrance with a ramp. There were no wheels on the bottom to propel the movements of the craft; it hovered three feet from the ground and was pushed only by three rocket thrusters attached to the back. Despite the simplicity of the design, the sight was enough to strike fear in the weakest of hearts, for it was symbol of terror and foreboding.

It was even more foreboding inside the troop carrier. There were at least twoscore number of troops, each decked out in armor of shiny ebony black, each face hidden behind their safety helmet. Each and every one them had a horn protruding from a hole in the forehead, and a pair of powerful wings attached to their backs, all of them born during the time of the virus and taken from families they would never know, trained to kill without mercy and with extreme prejudice.

There was one amongst them who was vastly different from the others, and she stood in the very front of the pack. The armor she wore was made of a silvery metal, and her face was too guarded by a helmet, the only difference between her and the soldiers (aside from the armor) was that she was taller than any of them, and her horn was a twisted black protrusion that had seen much better days. But she was strong and fit, strong to lead even whole armies toward battle, and still come out on top as the victor.

And that's what they were going to do. They were going to go in, get what they wanted, and come out clean and smiling. Because this what was they were trained to do. This was their purpose. They were bringing order to a nation that had fallen into a state of chaos more errant than that of Discord. And that was just what they were going to do now.

"I figured that you would find me sooner or later," Shadow Walker stated. He handed the two each a bowl of soup, which was more of a stew than a soup, thickly ground with potato chunks floating around. Starlight took her spoon with her magic, the thing the Federation despised above all else, and sampled the food, and it was so delicious that she kept spooning it down without stop. Spike was less mannerly, and slurped down the soup with ravenous hunger.

She smiled at Spike's eating habits, then turned back to Shadow Walker, seriousness creasing her face. "Do you have it?"

Putting down his soup bowl, Shadow Walker crossed to the other side of the hut, pulling out an old bag made of weather-worn leather. He reached in, jingling around before he found what he was looking for: a monoclinic shaped crystal of 4 inches long, and 2 inches wide that was hued with every color of the rainbow. On the front was a symbol of a large, nine-pointed star, surrounded by five smaller versions. Around that were smaller symbols: A cloud with striped lightning, three butterflies, three diamonds, three balloons, and three apples.

The cutie marks of the Six.

She stared at it a long time, taking in what she was seeing, and now thinking how gratifying it was to see their cutie marks on an object as insignificant as this. Years ago, in some far era of the past, she would've malignantly taken their cutie marks and replaced them with equal signs, a past she wasn't really wishing to revisit again, even by temptation. Now she was glad to see something that she once fought against appear once more, held in her hoof like a holy object.

"She gave it to me for safekeeping," he said. "She said to pass it on to a pony who knew her the most. I guess you'll have to do."

She turned back to Shadow Walker, pocketing the crystal. "Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything else that Twilight or her friends said, maybe a note?"

The old hermit was about to reply, when Zyleena ran into the hut, so quickly that Spike looked up, startled, from his feast. The Zebra was speaking so fast, Starlight thought she would have a seizure. Shadow Walker's eyes widened as he listened, then suddenly, he lept up and rushed out the door.

Starlight and Spike looked at each other, then followed suit, soup forgotten. They rushed out the door to chaos, with ponies and other species running around grabbing weapons and positioning themselves in the path of a large hovership. It was a menacing object, coated black and silver, and large enough to fit 6 the Princesses royal chambers, and the Tree of Harmony. Painted on the sides was an insignia of a raven with two crossed arrows in it's beak. It seemed like the Federation decided to pay a visit.

She turned back to Shadow Walker, pulling out her guns. "You should hide."

"And you should leave," he replied. "Don't let them get the crystal."

She acknowledged this with a nod. "Spike, we need to go now!" she called as she began loading the guns.

Spike followed close behind. "No telling twice!"

The battle was relatively long, safe to say, and at first glance, one would've badly judged the situation. The Federation troops were well trained in military, even for riot squads, who could disband the rabble with their rectangular shields and lectro staves, but their armor was the most unique in terms of technological advancement. The armor was specifically designed to allow troopers (some called them "bucket heads") to do what their anatomy restricted. They could walk for longer periods on two legs, and the greeves had small robotic fingers, psychically attached to them, which allowed them to grip blasters without the need of them falling of their hooves. So they were a force to be reckoned with.

However, they met their match when it came to the villagers, who had a wide range of weapons, and most of them were unicorns, so they had a little magic on their side, and they were pretty coordinated in terms of attack and defense. Laser bolts and a few bullets from Starlight's gun hit the enemy hard, but the were still coming out of the carrier in waves, never stopping, and soon, many of the villagers were either brought down, or kept fighting.

Starlight kept her shooting to a minimum, for her bullet supply was low, and looking back, she realized she should've asked for a fresh supply before she left, but she knew that it was her mistake for not requesting another few boxes. Going to have to make do for now, she thought as she turned around to look back.

Immediately she was glad she did. Behind her were two big troopers, both who were apparently interested in her, given how they were following just her and no one else. She quickly turned to Spike.

"Get to the Star." Starlight said urgently.

Spike turned back to her, slightly bewildered. "But what about you?"

"Just start her up," she snapped. "And I'll catch up."

She turned back and raised her six-shooters, and - without thought or regret - fired. There was a violent flash of noise and light, the smell of fire powder, and a soft plop. She knew that she must've struck home, but she didn't bother to look at her kill. She turned and ran like there was no tomorrow.

Spike didn't know why he got himself roped into these things. He wasn't a fighter, nor was he trained in any form of combat. The only things he carried were his fire, and his small shock wand, which could incapacitate a full grown dragon. But still, he often kept questioning the Rebellion's descision about why they would send a near defenseless dragon into the field when he would probably be of no use at all.

That didn't mean he was entirely without use. He knew how to fire a gun and how to track things. He knew how to read maps. He even knew how to repair an airship, as well as fly the the hunk of junk known as the Star, after Twilight's cutie mark. All of these skills were a tip of the hat to Starlight Glimmer, who was known for her repair and flight skills.

Now, fleeing from the battle into the cockpit of the patched together contraption, he was silently praying that it would start for once in its life. Being patched together from other airships, the Star was still a looker on the outside, with its sleek proportions and paint job, but it was a nightmare on the inside, all of it's parts borrowing the histories of failings of the previous airships that sacrificed their lives to make the Star. It leaked quiberium fuel from time to time, the spark plug fell out four times, and it blew a gasket at least twice.

Please run for one flawless minute, you piece of junk, Spike prayed as he climbed in. Just for once in your miserable life.

He flipped the start switch, initiated the quiberium, and waited. There was a steady hum of power and a slight vibration coming from the long fuselage of the ship. Spike's heart skipped a beat.

It works! he thought joyfully. It works! It works! It wor-

Suddenly, the whole ship rocked with an impact that nearly sent him into the pilot wheel. The warning screen flashed red and beeped. Spike face palmed dramatically, now frustrated. He could only think one thing.

Oh, pony feathers.

Starlight was within sight of the Star, when she saw its backside smoking and Spike running out of the cockpit.

"What happened?"

Spike shook his head. "Engine's shot beyond repair," he said with heavy sarcasm. "And what do you know, we're in the middle of freaking nowhere to find any parts."

Starlight looked at him, trying to comprehend what he said. "So you mean...?"

Spike nodded. "Yup, we're stranded here, with no way out."

That meant that if they stayed here, they would die, and the only way to save the world would soon be in the hands of the enemy.

Which meant it was time to go to plan B.

She pulled out the crystal, and put it in Spike's hand.

"Spike, I need you to take this and run, run as fast you can and get away from here. Go to Las Pegasus, get to the Rebellion, anything! But don't look back or let anyone take this."

He looked at her like she was crazy. "But what will you do?"

She unholstered her guns, and loaded them with her magic. "I'll hold the fort, and go down fighting. The captain goes down with her ship."

She turned back to him, seeing that his bewildered expression didn't change, and reassured him with a pat on the back.

"I'll catch up with you," she said, turning away. "Now go, quickly! And let the magic guide you!"

She turned back only once, to see Spike running in the direction of north-west, before turning to face the fray.

Spike ran, not caring that he had no idea where he was going,or what to do, or that his cloak had fallen off. All he cared about was getting away, about running. The only thing he wore now was his old belt, the crystal still in a small pouch, safe from intruders.

He kept running, unaware of the adventure that was about to begin.

Author's Note

This is (somewhat) inspired off the following video:

Phew! Glad that's done.