Author's Note

Well... here we are!!
How long has it been? Let's not look at that. Point is, I'm back!
This is actually the first half of the next chapter, but putting it out now and should have the second half out in just a day or two.
Tonight my state was put under essentially lockdown for the coronavirus. Life is a bit nuts at the moment, and things are a bit scary.
Thing is... whenever real life seems overwhelming, I turn to this story. I have these characters going through terrible things, and I know that no matter what I throw, they'll get through it. This has a happy ending, after all. If they can make it through, why not I?
So yeah... this is my emotional support fic.
With a full month of shelter in place... I might be making more progress on it

Stick to the Plan

“Rainbow Dash! Get your butt down here or I’ll make you!”

Rainbow Dash gave a loud groan in reply and buried her face further into the pillow, ignoring Spitfire’s loud call from downstairs. A minute later a light switched on and she heard a low huff of laughter.

“Come on, lazy bones,” Lightning Dust said before yanking back the sheets with her teeth. “Soarin’s gonna be back soon.”

“So?” Rainbow replied irritably, trying and failing to tug the sheets back up, squinting at the other mare.

“So did you forget what today is?”

“Uhh… today?” Rainbow Dash slowly sat up, blinking stupidly around at the little spare bedroom where she had spent most of the past week sleeping and recovering. Warm evening light tricked through the shuttered window; she had slept straight through the day again.

“Remember?” Lightning Dust prompted slowly, waving her hoof. “We’re expecting…”

“Expecting…? Oh yeah!” She leapt out of bed, grinning. “Gale Streak’s coming today!”

“Good job,” Lightning Dust said, rolling her eyes before turning and heading downstairs. At the top of the landing Rainbow Dash paused, glancing at her right front hoof, turning it over to see the lines of pink scars healing, a far sight better than the jagged skin from when she had first arrived.

She was healing, physically at least. It did little to stop the nightmares.

It had now been weeks since the invasion. A week since her own escape from when she had been kept shackled and stallions and stags would enter her cell to commit torture and rape. It all seemed unreal, worse than any nightmare she might conceive.

She tried to forget. To think about it too much would have driven her mad. It was why she took to sleeping during the day—it felt safer, when she awoke she could look around and remember she was there, and not down below.

Then, however, she would think to her friends, still trapped, still suffering. And she couldn’t do a damn thing.

There were rumors of what had happened to them, none good. If they had all indeed been captured, it meant Fluttershy would have had her wings plucked and encased, and Rarity would have lost her horn. Pinkie Pie was said to have gone mad. Applejack was supposedly owned by her brother; that had to be good news, because the alternative was too terrible to imagine. And Twilight… surely the rumors couldn’t be true.

As they came down the stairs, Spitfire looked up and gave a small snort. “About time you showed up. Soarin could be here any minute.”

“Ugh, he’s always late, what’s the big rush?” Lightning Dust said, leaping down the last few steps, her hooves clattering on the wood floors, harder than was right for a pegasus.

“You need to take this seriously,” Spitfire said. Title or no, wings or no—she was still their captain. Annoyingly so, sometimes. “Even if the new mare is a black collar, we need to be careful. Follow the plan, and don’t break character until I can make sure she agrees.”

“Come on, we’ve already been over this,” Lighting Dust said. “Not like she’s going to say no.”

Spitfire raised her eyebrow at Lighting Dust, who had the sense to look slightly abashed.

One week.

It had been one week since Lightning Dust had her quietly joined the rebellion, which was mutually not talked about. The following morning no one had said anything when Lightning Dust had walked into the kitchen behind Dash, wearing her collar but no chain. The only reaction was that Spitfire had looked up, gave a semblance of a nod, and went back to scowling at the newspaper without a word spoken. Rainbow Dash wasn’t too surprised; after all, it was Spitfire who had given her the key in the night. Soarin had noticed. When he walked in, already in his Wonderbolts uniform, he had done a double-take before pointing and just on the edge of saying something, but Spitfire just shook her head.

And so, that was that, and their tiny faction grew another fraction.

“We don’t know what she’s going to do,” Spitfire said, keeping her voice even. “I’ve only met her once. She’s not a Wonderbolt, but she was in the Royal Guards under Shining Armor.” She paused, ears twisting back. “Well, before he turned traitor. We could use a trained fighter, so just… try to be on your best behavior.”

“You mean pathetic and abused?” Lightning Dust said, eyebrow raised.

“You two just keep up the act until then, got it?” Spitfire snapped, before she walked away muttering about dumb rookies.

“What’s got her wings in a twist?” Lightning Dust whispered, and then immediately grimaced. Rainbow Dash glanced over to Spitfire’s retreating figure, and barely caught her ear flicking toward them before continuing to clear off the table.

“Guess we should help out,” Lightning Dust said, as if in apology. “I’ll um… go work on dinner.”

Lightning moved away, and Rainbow moved to help Spitfire clear away the papers scattered about. This, as usual, was a mistake.

Prince Blueblood Crowned King

Rebel Mares Captured in Everfree

Approval for Caribou Continues to Rise!

She hated reading the newspapers. Sure, she had never enjoyed something so lame before, but now it was just painful. Not in a, ‘I’m so bored my eyes are hurting from sheer boredom,’ kind of painful, but the kind that made her feel sick right down to her very core. She didn’t want to read about what they were doing to mares they captured, or the homes they were burning or shops destroyed. Her friends, her neighbors…

It made her feel sick.

But Spitfire insisted they kept up to date. Each morning she would scour for news and take notes, and each night Soarin would return and pass on any information he could. Rainbow pushed the newspapers into the box already full of earmarked books, maps, and notebooks with feverish scrawled writing. It didn’t seem terribly organized, and Rainbow Dash had a feeling it wasn’t Spitfire’s strong point, but she kept at it doggedly.

There was a pang of remorse at the sight, knowing that a few of those loose leaf papers were notes about the Elements of Harmony. Spitfire had already interrogated Rainbow Dash three times, hoping that the Elements might prove the key to defeating the caribou invaders. After all, they had been the ones to defeat Nightmare Moon, and later Discord, and even helped against the changelings at the wedding, despite Rainbow Dash arguing against the last one. Spitfire had thought that surely their power could be harnessed to save Equestria once more.

But this was different.

It was too broken. And if what she heard about her friends was true…

She didn’t want to think about that.

Instead, she went to wait with Lightning Dust in the main living room, well in sight of the front door, and talked about aerial maneuvers. They had talked about it before, of course, but it was a safe topic, relatively, and one true thing they had in common that wasn’t entirely steeped in misery or bad history. Spitfire joined them soon enough, clicking her own chains to her collar and half-listening, her attention focused elsewhere.

The sky turned pale orange, and then deep blue through the window. If Soarin didn’t get there soon, they’d be talking in the dark.

Spitfire sat up straight, ears turned forward.

“They’re here,” Spitfire said, making them both jerk up, gazing at the door like hounds catching sight of a squirrel. Spitfire sighed. “Will you two try to look miserable?”

Lightning Dust made a face like someone had just told her that her pet rock had died, making Rainbow Dash snort into her hoof and Spitfire roll her eyes. The next moment, there was a scuffle and the door flew open.

Soarin staggered inside, gasping and pulling forth a mare on a short leash. She was a gray pegasus with a blue mane cut short, and she looked furious, ears back and eyes darting around, with a general air of being ill-treated. There was a filthy cut on one of her ears and a shallow gash across her back, and she moved stiff, like everything ached. Something that Rainbow Dash could relate to.

Her muzzled head snapped up as Soarin shut the door behind her. “All right… so… Gale Streak,” he said between gulps of air, half-heartedly waving a foreleg. “This is… while you’re… here you—gah!”

Gale Streak tackled him hard, slamming him against the door and pushing a hoof against his throat, choking him.

Rainbow Dash jumped to her hooves, lurching against the chains. “Hey!”

The only answer was a grunt as the new pony twisted Soarin to the ground, throwing all her weight against his throat, forcing a ragged sound from him.

“Gale, get off him!” Spitfire shouted, already yanking her own chain off and hurrying forward.

The muzzled mare glared towards her with a savage, wild look. Then she saw who had spoken, blinked, and blinked again. It was just enough of an opening for Soarin to shake her off, pushing her back and flying out of her reach while he gasped some more with a high keening sound, rubbing his neck.

Gale Streak pulled away as all three newly-freed mares approached, shaking her head back and forth as they all stopped just out of reach, giving her the space they’d give a feral animal. One with claws.

“So much for your big plan, Cap,” Lightning Dust muttered as an aside.

Spitfire rubbed her forehead with a long sigh, before standing tall. “Listen, Gale, you’re not in danger. You’ll be fine. Don’t panic, and I’ll explain everything.”

“Here, I’ll get that thing off,” Rainbow Dash said, stepping forward. The mare jerked back, but after a moment allowed Dash to lean up and yank the muzzle off, tossing it to the side.

“W-what’s going on?” Gale gasped in a dry, scratched voice, rubbing her jaw where the straps had dug in. Her eyes snapped to Soarin, still hovering.

He blinked at that. “Uhh, that’s a bit complicated,” he said, rubbing his mane.

“Pfft, no its not.” Rainbow Dash beamed at Gale. “We’re the resistance!”

“The… resistance,” Gale repeated slowly, looking from one to the other. “You mean… you’re fighting back?”

“More or less,” Lightning Dust said, before Rainbow Dash elbowed her.

“We’re fighting back,“ Spitfire confirmed, and then held out her hoof. “Gale Streak, we’ve met once before. I’m Spitfire.”

“Wha, I… of course I know you,” Gale said, gingerly taking her hoof, still wary and confused. “You’re the head of the Wonderbolts. Or… were?” She cast another glance to Soarin, who had finally landed, but kept his distance.

“Still is,” Soarin said said, smiling, and that seemed to ease her mind.

“And you’re… fighting back?” Her shoulders were settling down. She looked less like a cat with all its fur on end. “All of you?”

“We are,” Spitfire said. “I was hoping to count on your guard training to help us fight. If you’re willing, that is. Unfortunately, the only students I have for you are these two newbies.” Spitfire gestured to Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust.

“Hey,” Lightning Dust said. Rainbow Dash raised a hoof in hello.

Gale hesitated then a slow smile spread across her face as she looked from one face to another. “The resistance,” she breathed, as if hardly daring to believe it. “I’m in. Of course I’m in!”

Rainbow Dash looked at Spitfire, who had a strange smile on her face.She seemed to be thinking: one down, so many to go…