Operation Firework

The Canterlot briefing room is rather large, to say the least, but it certainly made use of the space; it's chock-full of different maps of different lands, shelves holding books and scrolls detailing every mission that was ever briefed within said room. At the centre of the room was a well-built, square wooden table, with a map containing a zoomed-in section of North-West Equestria. You recognise Vanhoover and its surrounding cities, with the North Luna Ocean on one side, and Unicorn Range on the other.

Celestia is already there, as expected, sitting calmly at one end of the table. Without skipping a beat, you take a seat at the opposing end. Tempest looks around the room before following your lead. Two lower-rank guardsponies close the doors behind you, giving the three of you the required privacy.

"Judging by the fact we're the only two Elites here," you say, feeling a bitter taste in your mouth for referring to Tempest with such a title, "I get the impression this will be a smaller-scale mission, your Highness?"

"As glad as I am that I won't be overwhelmed with other distractions," the violet unicorn raises a hoof. "This briefing room looks rather... devoid of other Operatives. For a task important enough for the Princess of the Sun to be telling us what to do, I mean."

Was that a dig at the Princess' importance!?

You give Tempest a sideways glance, but otherwise hold your tongue.

"You will be co-operating with larger groups, in time," the Princess assures her, "but as I understand, you are quite capable of performing tasks with little to no assistance. With a single partner to start with, you'll be able to adapt to our way of handling missions. As for why I'm the one giving the briefing, it would be prudent to treat any missions you partake in as high priority, on account of your... career history."

Tempest likes to think that she's still a stoic warrior, but the subtle bite to her bottom lip suggested otherwise; Celestia was talking about her shameful past as the Storm King's commander.

"I mean no offence by saying that," Celestia adds quickly. She must've picked up on it too. "But you did wish to have your skills used as a force for good, and this is the ideal time for it."

The unicorn looks down at nothing in particular. "That's alright, Princess. I welcome the chance to do this."

The Princess of the Sun smiles, and without further ado, she begins the mission briefing. She traces the city of Vanhoover with a single feather from her wing.

"We've been getting reports from Vanhoover regarding a massive robbery on their local fireworks factory during the night. As you know, that factory produces the most fireworks per year in the kingdom. And just this morning, we've received word that every last firework has been stolen from there by perpetrators unknown."

"Wait, I thought we were special defenders of Equestria," she pipes up again. What insolence. "Why would Vanhoover need Elites to track down a few fireworks thieves?"

You take this opportunity to show her how it's done: "Obviously they wouldn't raid such a large factory just for fun."

Your new partner's face is one not of contemplation, but of expectation. You indulge her.

"Think about it, Tempest. They wouldn't steal fireworks just to set them off; that would be getting yourself arrested. So chances are they're using the stolen cargo for something other than their intended use."

The mare leans forward, her eyes connecting the dots. "They weren't after the fireworks. They were after the gunpowder in them!"

Honestly, she got to that conclusion much faster than you thought she would. Good on her.

"Very astute, Tempest Shadow," the Princess shifts into her oddly maternal phase. "You'll make a fine Elite Operative."

Your eye twitches involuntarily at Celestia's words. Tempest has only just been accepted as one of your kind, and she's already showing you up. You'd be more mad if she wasn't so pretty.

"According to our sources in Vanhoover, the thieves escaped with enough fireworks to fill ten to fifteen kegs worth of gunpowder. Enough to cause untold destruction among our citizens," Celestia's expression turns to steel. "Your orders are to find out who stole those fireworks, what they intend to do with them, and bring them to justice. Can you do that?"

"Yes, your Highness!" you and Tempest exclaim in unison. Well, at least she's got that part down.

*******

Operation Firework. The mission is called Operation Firework.

Mind you, there's a village near Canterlot that's full of ponies called Ponyville, so there are probably more important things to worry about rather than names.

You finish glancing through the mission details of Operation Firework. In short, there's a huge hole in the side of the factory and a distinct lack of explosive, joy-bringing bangers. Maybe when you and Tempest inspect the crime-scene yourselves, you'll have more clues.

You look across the empty train carriage's plastic, four-seated table to your partner. She's wordlessly taking in the midday sun as the train chugs by, admiring Cloudsdale which can be seen in the distant skies above. Soon she'll be able to see Galloping Gorge, and by the early evening, you'll have arrived in Vanhoover.

She probably hasn't seen much of Equestria since she left so long ago. Her face doesn't know any signs of emotion, but her eyes, flicking between Cloudsdale and the world below it, betray a sense of clandestine wonder.

Once this mission is done, and if she does a well enough job, you're sure the Princesses would treat her to a trip around Equestria. Perhaps you'd like to join her. You mean, not in a dating way. You mean, not that you wouldn't mind it. She holds a beauty that you've never seen in any other pony before.

"It's the scars, isn't it?"

What the..?

Her eyes are no longer looking out the window. Instead they seem to be staring you down, not out of malice but out of weariness. Perhaps you shouldn't have been looking at her for quite so long. Not that you could help it.

"You were staring at my scars," she says, gesturing to the upper-right portion of her face; the rather decorative eye-wound and her infamous broken horn. "It's fine, I'm used to it," she lies with either a feeble or a fake smile. You couldn't tell.

You know what? You've been giving her too much of a hard time. Celestia tasked you with being her partner, and failing to be a good partner to her would be failing the Princess.

"Heck, there's nothing wrong with scars, Tempest. Especially not in the Elite Ops," you try to cheer her up. "Can you imagine a pony going through their whole life without getting a scar of any kind? That life would be so... boring!"

She gives you a casual inspection. "You aren't scarred that much. There's a few scratches on you, but nothing capable of turning heads." Her eyes drift lower. "Unless there's anything under your armour worth seeing."

You put on your flirtatious, well-hello-there kinda voice. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Pursing her lips and pretending there's no blush on her cheeks, she turns back to the window. You've still got it! Hah.

You wait a few more minutes before starting up another conversation; "Hey. Tempest."

She blinks one more time at the passing cloud-city, then turns to face you with a face that attempts to be friendly.

"I know you've probably had a lot of experience, but if you're nervous about this being your first mission-"

"Snrrrk!" she stifles a thoughtless laugh.

"Hey, I'm being serious!" you protest, "I saw the way your were admiring Cloudsdale; it's a different world out there for you, a different life! I know it's sometimes hard to let go of your old one, but-"

"Just in case you're worried," Tempest interrupts, "I don't miss the Storm King. I hated the jerk when I was serving him, and I hated him when he betrayed me. And take note of that; he betrayed me. I stick to whoever I'm loyal to. And I made an oath to be loyal to the princesses, so I serve them now. Does that make you feel better?"

"You still wear Storm King armour, though."

Tempest's eyes seem to flash in irritation. She gives you the sort of look somepony would give a queue-jumper.

"What, you thought a gold coat of paint would change that?" you add.

"I'll have you know," she rolls her eyes, "the princesses gave me permission to keep using this armour, on the condition it shows Royal Guard colours. That, and it's custom-built, and one-of-a-kind, seeing as I was the only pony in the Storm King's army. Much better protection for me than the pretty ceremonial drivel that you're wearing."

You almost choke on your own disbelief. "Oh, is that so!?"

"I'll prove it. Here."

She quickly stands up from the train's table, getting her bearings of the train's movement, and starts undoing one of the straps on her armour. Honestly, you thought you'd be waiting a lot longer before she'd start doing this sort of thing around you.

And you're staring again. Stop that.

"Here," she finally drops a metallic plate at your hooves. "Pass me your helmet. Try to dent my armour, and I'll try to dent yours."

"Are you crazy?" you raise an eyebrow.

"Aw, are you afraid I'll break your pretty helmet?" Tempest coos mockingly, giving you a half-lidded gaze that, well, let's leave it at that. Damn she's attractive when she wants to be.

Accepting her challenge, you throw your helmet to the floor, landing it right by her. You position yourself over her discarded armour plate.

"Ladies first", Tempest jests.

You grunt nothing in particular back to her in response, and drive your hooves as hard as you can into her gold-painted, Storm King brand armour. Nothing. Not even a scratch.

You try four more strikes, getting more and more furious with each blow. Still nothing. Picking the plate up, you realise just how heavy that single plate is; the whole armour set must be crushing Tempest, but she hardly shows it!

You turn to her, just in time to hear a tin can being crumpled. Oh wait, that was your helmet being destroyed by the ex-commander's hoof.

"What the heck, Tempest!?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she tilts her head in mock-apology. "Did you want to put your head in there first?"

"I- whuh?" you shake your head and change the subject before things get too weird. "How do you even wear that thing without it weighing you down?"

"You get used to it," she says nonchalantly, strapping the undamaged armour plate back into place. "The fact remains though, this armour's better."

"Okay, you win that one," you admit. "But did you crush that helmet because you were strong, or because the helmet itself was weak?"

"Care to find out?" she bares her teeth just a little, placing her foreleg on the table in a hoof-wrestling position. You oblige her... and on the count of three you get trounced. Okay, she's definitely stronger than you as well.

"Is that two-to-nothing, partner?" she says, clearly enjoying this. "Or would you like me to beat you one more time in something else? Riddles? A race? Tiddlywinks?"

This time it's your turn to scoff; "Oh, you'd never beat me in a race, Tempest, even without that armour weighing you down."

"Why's that?"

In the blink of an eye and a flicker of your horn, you demonstrate your special talent; teleportation. Before Tempest could even comprehend your sudden disappearance, you reappear two tables away from her. Then back in front of her. Then on the ceiling. Now the luggage compartment. Now back to Tempest.

"That's why," you gloat. "I can use the teleportation spell in a fraction of the time any other unicorn can. It's why I'm so good at my job. I can mop up several troublemakers at once before they even know I'm there. Let's see you cast that."

To seal the deal, you cockily teleport from your current seat - the one opposite Tempest's seat at the table - to the one right next to her. You lean on the table and raise an eyebrow in a show-offy, whaddya think sort of way, only to be met with a look of wrath personified.

She's staring at your face with such emotional intensity that, if looks could kill, she would've been able to wipe out the population of Manehattan with nothing but her face and a large screen.

"Move," she hisses. Her broken horn spits a few threatening sparks at you. You oblige, blinking back to your old spot opposite her. She silently - but by no means calmly - goes back to looking out of the window.

"Um, Tempest? Are you okay?"

Tempest Shadow looks back at you in disgust before turning back to the world racing by. She doesn't respond. Why in Equestria is she so angry over you showing off some magic?

A couple more sparks descend from her broken, imprecise horn. Now you understand.

"Aw geez, Tempest! I didn't mean it like that! I was-"

"Save it," her tongue cuts you down to size. "Just save it. We have a job to do."

For the rest of the journey, she doesn't make eye-contact with you out of spite. You don't make eye-contact with her out of self-preservation.