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         Tales of Equestrian City- the Back Roads          
                    -by Alden MacManx-                     
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               02- Blaise Meets the Phoenix                
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02- Blaise Meets the Phoenix
Blaise Arrow, as was his custom after a rough day at work, was easing his tensions by going out for a five-mile jog/run around the area of Equestrian City where he lived. Even after residing in Equestrian City for a few years now, the tall, fit, gray-skinned Eastern military veteran wanted to learn more about his adopted city. Going for a daily run or jog did the trick for him. He always chose a different path for his runs, so as to see different sights every day.
This day had him going down to the dock area of the city. He generally went that way once a week or so, just for variety. As he jogged along the street that ran alongside the docks, he caught a flash of light out of the corner of his eye, a flash of flames up in the air. Turning to look, he saw someone flying above the warehouses that lined the riverfront, flames trailing from its hands, the flaming person making a sudden plunge into the warehouse next to him.
Quickly, Blaise took cover on the far side of the street, diving behind some loaded scrap dumpsters awaiting pickup. Once under cover, he looked at the warehouse the flames went into. Nothing was visible to him at the time, so he sprinted back across the street, peering in a window, looking, scooting to another window and peering in again, as befitted his basic military training from the Eastern Empire.
As he got to the corner of the building, he looked around said corner, to see an open door and a van pulled up alongside it. Curious, he approached the open door, using sprint-and-cover. Several loud crashes and bangs came from a room beyond the one he could see into, divided by a folding wall arrangement. As he looked and listened, there was a loud meaty sounding SMACK from the other side of the wall, the wall shook then gave way, a body dressed in black coming through the wall, flames flickering around the body’s hands, impacting the side of the van before sagging limply to the ground.
Blaise recognized the lady (he could tell that by now) from newscasts as The Phoenix, a local heroine. The red and yellow hair helped in his identification as well. He was about to go to her when three people came through the destroyed folding wall, one very large woman flanked by two smaller women. “You hit her a little too hard, Lisa! If the van has dents, the boss ain’t gonna like it!” the one on Blaise’s left, a slim orange haired woman, said.
“You did say hit her and knock her out. Lisa knocked Phoenix out,” said the big one.
“You’re stronger than you look, knocking her through the wall and then some,” the blue-haired woman on the right said.
“Let’s get her tied up and put into the van, then go get what we came here for. Hauling in the Phoenix will really please the boss!” the orange-haired one said, apparently the group’s leader.
Blaise hid as the trio swiftly bound the Phoenix in tape, placing her inside the van, leaving the door open when they left to get what they were looking for. Once the terrible trio was gone, Blaise raced out from his hiding spot, opened the hood of the van, reached in and removed the plug wires from the spark plugs, taking two of the six out completely and messing the rest. Leaving the hood up, he then went inside the van to check on the Phoenix.
As he did a quick check of the Phoenix, her eyes snapped open. Blaise raised a finger to his lips before saying in his accented monotone voice, “Remain still. I will free you. Heroes need help, ja?” he droned before pulling a small knife out from his pocket, opening it, and carefully slitting the tape holding the Phoenix’s wrists together, then the tape around her ankles.
The Phoenix looked up at her savior, seeing the scars that covered the left side of his head up to almost the eye, the light gray of the scars standing out against his charcoal gray skin and golden hair, the sweatshirt hoodie having fallen back. “Who are you?” she whispered, her stomach trying not to turn handsprings at the sight of his scars.
“A friend,” Blaise droned, his voice nor his expression changing from the base blankness. “Fit to move are you yet?”
The Phoenix removed the tape from her wrists and ankles. “I think so. That big one punches HARD!” she whispered before wincing. “Make that maybe not. I think she cracked some ribs.”
Blaise took position at the van door, looking inside the building. “Then to a doctor you should go. Broken ribs painful,” he droned as grayish-white light formed around his hands, the one on his right hand forming into a small shield, the one on his left forming a small crossbow.
“What are you doing?” Phoenix gasped out, an injudicious movement sending a flare of pain through her chest.
“Covering your escape. Go now before they come out. Call police if able to. Get to a doctor. Helping heroes is the right thing to do,” Blaise said.
“I don’t want them getting away with the shipment,” Phoenix hissed.
“Van no go. Fixed it. You go now,” Blaise told her as he raised his crossbow to a ready position, the bolt glowing a bright blue.
“Right. You keep yourself safe,” Phoenix told Blaise as she got out of the van, moving clear so she could take off.
“First rule of combat. If you manage to get back to camp and sleep, you win battle,” Blaise said as the big woman, Lisa, came out of the hole in the partition wall, carrying a large metal box.
Blaise fired a bolt, watching it fly straight and true into the box, where it burst in a flare of blue light, the metal box quickly heating up, turning red. Lisa screamed as the box handles burned her hands and the box itself burning her chest. “Go!” Blaise ordered as loud as he could. The Phoenix took off in a flare of flames.
Lisa had dropped the box, which landed on her feet, causing her to scream again. The other two women rushed out from behind the partition wall, only to fall to two bolts from Blaise’s crossbow, the two falling limply to the floor, stunned. Blaise also shot Lisa with a stun bolt, to stop her screaming. As he heard sirens approaching, Blaise dissipated his crossbow, ran to the river and dove in, heedless of the temperature. A strong swimmer, he managed to swim three piers down before surfacing. He listened for a moment before diving and swimming down two more piers before climbing out of the water. He managed to wring out his sweats before squishing his way home, the jog keeping him warm.
At Rare Innovations tower, Sunset Shimmer was sitting on a table, her shirt and bra off, getting medical tape wrapped around her chest by Twilight Sparkle. “How did you manage to break your ribs like that, Sunset? Two in the front, and one in the back,” Twilight asked.
“You get punched by a big-ass brick of a lady, flying through a partition wall and not stopping until you ram into the side of a van, and see how YOUR ribs get broken!” Sunset snapped as Twilight set the tape in place.
“So, did they get away?” Twilight asked as Spike sent a motile out with pain medication and a glass of water for Sunset.
“No, they didn’t. I had some help,” Sunset said before describing the events as she knew them.
As she got near to the end of her description, Twilight stopped her. “He said helping heroes is the right thing to do?” she asked, a confused look on her face.
“Yes, he said that. He has an Eastern accent, and his voice and expression never changed. The left side of his head is marred with scars, from the back all the way up to here,” Sunset explained, wincing some as she touched her face just behind the left eye.
“I’ve seen someone like him, here, in the building. Spike, is there anyone on staff of Rare Innovations that fits Sunset’s description?” Twilight asked.
Spike appeared on a monitor wearing a deerstalker cap. He fished through a file cabinet, found a file and pulled it out. “Yes, I found him,” Spike declared as the file came up on the nine-monitor bank in the wall of the lab. A picture filled the upper left-hand corner screen.
“Name: Blaise Arrow. Six feet one inch tall, one hundred eighty-five pounds. Started work with Silver Innovations, came along when Silver Innovations became Rare Innovations. Age thirty-three, veteran of the Eastern Empire’s military, getting a medical discharge after getting injured in some sort of missile blast, details here are vague,” Spike recited before taking a breath and going on. “Works at Rare Innovations as a member of the I.T. department, evaluations always high, but tends to work alone because of his appearance and personality. He is unable to express emotions of any type.
“No evidence of metahuman abilities noted in his files,” Spike concluded. “Want to see his evaluations?”
“No, thank you, Spike,” Twilight said. “I remember him now. I have not seen him in some time.”
“That’s because he never comes here to your R&D labs, Twilight. You handle any issues we have,” Spike told her.
“You do have a point, Spike,” Twilight said before turning to Sunset. “Is this the fellow?” she asked, pointing to the monitor.
Sunset nodded, shivering some. “Yes. Seeing him here in a picture is different than at night, waking up from a daze. He’s even creepier looking now than he was a while ago.”
“Creepy or not, tomorrow I’ll ask Mister Arrow to come up here for a small private talk,” Twilight said firmly. “Would be good to have some hidden backup.”
The next morning, Blaise was at his desk ten minutes before the start of his shift, as was normal for him. He had just logged into his computer when an email popped up, from Doctor Twilight Sparkle, head of R&D. The email contained only one line, that saying ‘Report to my office immediately’. So, Blaise wasted no time going to Doctor Sparkle’s office.
When he went in to the office, Blaise stopped dead in his tracks as he gazed upon Twilight. This Doctor Sparkle is a virtual twin to someone he knew in the Eastern Empire, a lady known as Professor Midnight. Blaise would admit, if there was anyone in this world that frightened him, it would be Professor Midnight. Unconsciously, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, where, hidden under a surgical scar, was a tiny explosive charge linked to a processor that is listening to everything he says. If he tried to give details about the Empire’s advanced weapons systems, his head would be severed from his body, and he knew it. “You asked to see me, Doctor Sparkle?” he said in his usual droning voice.
“Yes, Mister Arrow. Shut the door and sit down. Coffee?” Twilight asked politely.
“Nein. Tea, please,” Blaise said as he shut the door and sat down. A small wheeled drone brought a cup of tea over. “What do you want to see me about, Doctor Sparkle?”
Twilight waited until Blaise picked up the foam cup before asking, “Where were you last night about eight-thirty p.m.?”
Blaise’s face showed no reaction, except for his eyes, which dilated wide for about three seconds before constricting again. His hand did not shake as he sipped his tea. “I was on my evening jog, Doctor Sparkle. It is something I do almost every night. Keeping in shape is the right thing to do, ja?”
“Yes, it is the right thing to do. Did something… unusual… happen while you were jogging last night?” Twilight asked, staring intently at Blaise, who sat in his chair, apparently unperturbed, but Twilight can see his eyes widening in what she took to be absolute terror.
“Since you are asking, Doctor, I am to presume you already know about it, ja?” Blaise asked, setting his teacup down.
“Yes,” Twilight said, looking at Blaise intently. “How long have you known you are a meta?”
“Since about a year and a half after I arrived here in Equestrian City. I was threatened with attack, the bow and shield manifested, and I drove off the attackers.”
“So, Emperor Sombra does not know about you?”
“Nein, neither him nor Professor Midnight. If they do find out, I will be forced to return to the Eastern Empire and be compelled to serve again in the armed forces. I do not want that. I am… happy… here, as far as it can be said I am… happy,” Blaise managed to say.
“Your reviews show you to be utterly emotionless, which tends to unsettle some people, in addition to your obvious scars. Somehow, I do not think that is entirely true,” Twilight said as a challenge.
“I am not emotionless, Doctor Sparkle, I just cannot express emotions,” he said, reaching up to tap the left side of his head. “The blast that did this also removed some pieces of my brain, making me unable to show emotional responses. I can try to force shows of emotion, but the results are even more unsettling to others.”
“I can imagine. I promise to keep your secret. I am currently getting to know some of the local heroes, such as the Phoenix. She thanks you for your help. She did have three broken ribs,” Twilight explained. “Basically, if I ever feel the need for someone of your skills and talents, may I call on you?”
Blaise pondered the question before nodding. “Ja. You can call on me, if you need to, because it is the right thing to do. I would request one thing before you do. A mask that covers my head and the scarring,” he said, tapping the left side of his head.
Twilight smiled at Blaise. “I have thought of that, Mister Arrow. That is why I had these made up for you,” she said, pushing a button on her desk. Another drone rolled out, this one bearing some gray material in it. “This is a body suit made of reinforced fabric, with armor inserts around key parts of your anatomy. The hood is of a matching color, with no eye slit visible. It’s padded as well, along with a built-in transceiver that I can remotely program in case you are needed to work.”
As Blaise felt the slick, breathable fabric, she went on. “I will have that delivered to you, in a briefcase, at the end of your shift. Needless to say, this meeting has never officially happened.”
“Understood, Professor. No one needs to know. If called upon, I shall serve. Why? Because it is the right thing to do, ja?” Blaise stood up, fought visibly NOT to salute before bowing, doing a sharp about-face and heading out of Twilight’s office.
As the door shut behind him, Twilight could only ask herself, “What does he mean by calling me ‘Professor’?”
Author's Note
So, the hidden meta meets a real hero at work. Heroes need friends, heroes need help. It is only right to help a hero, ja?
Episode Three next week! Stay tuned!  
ducks the stage hook before dashing offscreen

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                      03- Rip Current                      
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03- Rip Current
“Computer, engage privacy protocol Lambda seven one four Yankee, crypto sequence four nine,” the fat green-skinned fellow said to his high-end desktop computer, which looked rather hastily assembled. After brushing a lock of his pale blue hair out of his face, he observed the computer’s monitor as the protocols he had ordered were set. He sat back in his chair, dusting some cake crumbs off his belly. “Hello. I’m Rip Current. As of the time of this dictation, I currently work at Rare Innovations, in the I.T. department.
“Before working there, I worked at Silver Innovations after graduating from tech school, which I went to after eight years in the Navy. Many folk say I’m good at my job, good enough to pull down a nice salary and live like I want to live, despite some disapproving words from my friend and co-worker Blaise Arrow. Okay, I get it. I’m fat, nerdy, and don’t have outdoor survival skills worth a damn.
“I’m also a meta, as I found out yesterday. Apparently, I can affect currents, electrical currents. I can amplify them, cancel them, or run them in reverse. Going backwards, with electricity, does tend to lead to unpleasant results. Good thing I was able to download backups of my important files from cloud storage. This IS a backup computer. My primary computer blew up, the power supplies being unable to counter the electrical backpressure. I put out the fire myself, and nobody came knocking on my door. Smoke alarm does tend to go off when I’m cooking, anyway.”
Rip sighed as he organized his thoughts. “So, after I cleaned up the mess, I headed out for a walk, into the wooded area behind my apartment. It was dark but clear, the moonlight guiding my feet as I walked to the creek, finding my favorite sit-down rock. Sitting there was how I found out I could sense water currents as well as electrical currents. Sense them, but not interfere with them.
“After watching the water for a while, I found the courage to head back home. Also, the smoke should have cleared by then, and I was feeling the urge to go out for a burger or three. Walking back home, I could feel the presence of the electrical currents around me as I neared the building. I could feel them as well as hear them. The big main power leads were a deep bass rumble I could hear from about a hundred feet off, while other circuits inside apartments were of a higher pitch and feel when I got closer. I could hear and feel the currents, but they were not disturbing or annoying. My car, on the other hand, was a real shock when I got in. Turning on the power sent a jolt of noise through me, which quickly settled. Driving to and from the burger place gave me time to adapt to the current flows while driving it.
“Okay, I got four burgers, three packs of fries and two of their big drinks. More than I usually get, but I was ravenous! After getting home and eating, I salvaged what I could from my old mainframe and put this one together. I wonder what time it is…" he said as his eyes tracked to the clock in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. "Ho-lee! THAT late? I better get going!
“Computer, save diary, privacy protocol Lambda seven one four Yankee! Upon completion, go to shut down mode and await further input!” Rip shouted as he got out of the chair, sprinting to the bedroom, coming out in seconds, towel wrapped around him, heading into the bathroom. Five minutes later he comes out, hair a mess, quickly changing into his working gear before grabbing his phone off the charger and heading out, the door locking securely behind him.
“Computer, open diary, privacy protocol Lambda seven one four Yankee, crypto sequence five two.” Rip Current appeared on the screen, collar open, mustard stains on his shirt and nose. The time ticker in the corner showed thirteen hours had passed since the last entry. He looked and sounded exhausted, yet exhilarated. “Just a quick update about today at work, then I’m going to bed.
“The systems at work I found to be tolerable, for the most part. There is one power source somewhere in the building that is giving me fits, because of not only it’s straight-out power level, but of its near-constant use! The subsonics were so jarring it kept me awake, which is a good thing, because I wanted to crash out. Speaking of which, that’s not a bad idea. Good thing I got Total Wasteland set on auto record.” Rip then yawned deeply. “Too much of this all-night crap. Gonna call off and sleep in tomorrow. Sleep the mender, right? Computer, autosave and shut down.” The last image of that sequence was of Rip shutting his eyes and slumping in his chair.
The next image in the diary showed that twenty hours had passed since the last entry. Rip looked freshly showered, his pale blue hair still wet, but the bags under his eyes showed fatigue. “Just a quick update before I go back to sleep again. I fell asleep in the chair, not waking up until work called, wondering where the hell I was. I told them I was taking a sick day, then I went and cooked up a breakfast that made me think twice before eating it. At this rate, I’ll top three hundred pounds in a month. After that, I fell back into bed again until about half an hour ago. I didn’t wake up hungry, fortunately.
“When my computer is on, I can sense it, but every time I try to look at it, it slips out of my mental grasp. Same thing with my phone, but the phone is more in the back of my mind, easier to ignore. To be honest, I’m rather afraid to explore my power any more. Maybe some more sleep will help me.
“Gonna try something first. I’m not going to shut the computer totally off, but I will leave it on, just to see what will happen. I’ll report when I wake back up.” Rip Current then yawned deeply before ordering the diary program to save and secure and putting the computer to sleep before he did.
The next diary entry showed it was Sunday, more than two days after the last entry. Rip Current looked more awake this time, no more bags under his eyes, but he did have a bucket of chicken nuggets nearby, because every minute or so, he ate one. “Did some testing over the weekend. I found out that stopping or reversing electrical circuits, the results depend on the power in the system. Something small, like one of my old phones, either it will stop working or burn out something inside. AC house current more than likely will be explosive. Power to a building or a substation, VERY explosive! I’m just glad the news reported it as a transformer failure. If the power company gets hold of me, I’m so in for it!
“The main drawback I can find is that the more effort I put in to using the power, the hungrier I get. Attempts to generate a current have met with failure, but stopping or reversing current flow, yes, I can do it. My next attempts are to see if I can limit my power to, say, blowing out one circuit breaker in a panel and leaving the others intact. Stopping a car driving by, I’m pretty sure I can. If I can sense it, I can stop it.
“Good thing I’m able to ignore ‘background noise’,” he said, making air quotes with his fingers, “it’s just something coming into my range that I can feel. I’m getting good at ignoring it. Hopefully tomorrow, I can work normally, and pass off what happened last week as a transitory bug. I’ll hope for the best.
“Computer, secure diary and encrypt.”
Author's Note
Early, I know, but am moving to a new place next week, and I'm unsure about the internet at the new place, so I am putting this one up now, maybe one more on Saturday and another on Monday. Hope you all like reading them as much as I like writing them!

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       04- The Day the Lights Went Out in the Tower        
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04- The Day the Lights Went Out in the Tower
The Day the Lights Went Out in the Tower
“Computer, open diary program Lambda seven two seven Yankee, crypto sequence five four.”
The little blue light on the camera turned on, and the screen lit up to show a rather disheveled-looking Rip Current in his computer desk chair, shirtless, pale blue hair mussed, ketchup stains on his lips and a dab of mustard on his chin. “May I never have another day like this one. It was ugly. Too ugly.”
It was another regular weekday afternoon in the I.T. department of Rare Innovations. The two senior technicians, Rip Current and Blaise Arrow, were hard at work repairing damaged office computers. Rip normally handled programming updates while Blaise handled mechanical repairs, but an unexpected surge in clumsiness by the Rare Innovations office staff required Blaise to ask for some help. Not wanting to turn down a chance to work on equipment, Rip readily agreed. Besides, for Blaise to ask for help meant he really DID need help. The taciturn scarred Easterner found Rip a good work partner, because Rip never commented on Blaise’s scars, background, taciturnity, or voice. Rip, in turn, liked the big Easterner because he was a damned good technician and never stood over his shoulder while he worked.
The duo worked steadily through the afternoon, fixing equipment. Blaise had just reassembled a damaged 3-d printer while Rip tested a failed monitor to find out why it failed. As Blaise checked the printer’s power supply, the probe slipped off a test point and drove itself into the power supply junction, said power supply letting out a SNAP and a bright blue spark.
Blaise stiffened, unconsciously summoning his shield over both hands to prevent a shock. Rip, meanwhile, looked up in time to see the spark and Blaise’s motion, but not his hands. Rip did not hesitate. He reached out with his talent, aiming to shut off the power to the printer. However, his excited, concerned state caused him to overshoot.
Rip felt his power reach out to the largest source of power in the building, that being the main input breaker from outside. He did essentially a ‘crash stop’ on the power feed, which caused the electricity to build up ‘backpressure’, causing the big breaker, and associated power distribution box, to blow out in a shower of smoke and sparks, plunging the entire building into darkness.
Up in R&D, Twilight Sparkle was hard at work, as usual, on upgrades to her Matterhorn armor. She looked up as the overhead lights went out, followed by the building fire alarm, and the monitors going dark. “Spike? What’s happening?” she called out, worried about her friend.
Her tablet let out a bleep before lighting up, Spike there in dragon form, holding a lantern in one claw, the light inside flickering. “I’m all right, Twilight. Something blew in the main building power room. The mainframe is safe, the UPS kicked in just as you designed it to. I’m coming in through your tablet because it has power. Give me a minute or so to see what’s going on. Good thing the security system is on an independent power supply,” he reported as the image started looking around.
“Good to hear, Spike. I was worried,” Twilight said, relaxing some.
“Hey, you do good work, Twilight. No need to worry today! Now, to check out the security recordings,” Spike said, sitting at a virtual console and pulling up pictures. Twilight checked her fabricating equipment, to check if the sudden power outage had damaged anything.
Up in the upper levels of the tower, Rarity was busily trying to figure out what was going on. Emergency lighting had kicked in on the upper floors, letting her see. As she worked her terminal (which did have power), Silver Spoon came into the office. “What’s going on, Rarity?” she asked.
“As soon as I find out, I’ll tell you. Right now, you know what I know,” Rarity said as she asked for an update from Spike, getting a message on her screen saying that the main power breaker box had suffered a catastrophic failure, reason unknown. Checking the security footage on fast forward and fast reverse, Rarity determined that there had been no tampering with the box in the previous six hours. Silver Spoon came around the desk to look over Rarity’s shoulder.
“Silver, I want you to contact the power company and let them know what has happened here. I’ll call Maintenance and have them work to restore power. I know there is more than one power feed into the building,” she said as she reached for a building phone.
“I’m on it.”
Down in the I.T. room, Blaise heard Rip fall limply to the floor. Shaking out the sting in his fingers from the small shock he had endured, he went to check his friend. “Rip? Are you all right?” he asked in his monotone voice, a legacy from an incident he had suffered while in military service.
Getting no response, Blaise went over to Rip and started checking him over. He was no medic, but he did remember his first aid training, and did what he could with what he had, which was his training and his hands. “I take you to Medical now,” he droned, picking up his limp friend and putting him over his shoulder. “Rip, you have put on weight. I can tell,” he said as he left the I.T. lab, gong to Medical.
Rip woke up to the scent of ammonia in his nose, grunting in surprise. “Wha?”
Blaise was standing over his friend, removing the capsule from Rip’s nose. “You passed out in the lab after repair I was working on sparked. How do you feel?”
“I have got a headache that I do not want to have to endure, and I am hungrier than I have ever felt before,” Rip admitted.
“You have been putting on weight, Rip. You should not be overeating,” Blaise droned.
“I can’t help it, Blaise. Since I caught that bug, I have been cursed with an appetite that won’t quit!” Rip complained.
The duty medtech came over to the two. “I think you should go get checked out at the hospital, Rip,” she told the man on the table.
“Take you I will, if you want to go,” Blaise told his friend, “because it is the right thing to do.”
Rip sighed as he looked at the medtech, Glory Wrap. “If you will cover for us, Glory, then I will accept the offer,” he groaned.
Glory Wrap did not smile, she just squeezed Rip’s hand. “I can do that, and it will save the company the drama of having an ambulance come over here to get you. I will clear it with your supervisor.”
“And I will accompany you. You are my friend, and friends help friends, ja?” Blaise droned.
“Got that right, Blaise,” Rip said as he sat up on the table, quickly reaching out to the two people to catch himself. “Whoagh… dizzy…”
“I’ll get the wheelchair, and you go get your car, Blaise. I’ll meet you at the front entrance,” Glory Wrap commanded as she guided Rip back down to a prone position. “Have one of the door guards come in here to help me get him loaded.”
“Ja, Nurse,” Blaise said. “You are stronger than you look.”
“In this job, you have to be.”
Blaise did as he was instructed, sending a guard to Medical as he left the building. When he got back to the entrance, Glory and Rip were waiting. They got Rip loaded into the back seat of the small sedan, and Blaise headed for the hospital.
“Thanks for doing this, Blaise. Right now, driving is out of the question. I think I’m seeing double right now,” Rip said from where he was slumped in the back seat.
“It is not to worry about it, Rip. This is the right thing to do. You are one of the few people who do not wince when I am near.”
“You’re a person like I am, Blaise. I don’t give a damn what you look like or sound like. You’re a good person, a damned good tech, and you don’t nitpick my work,” Rip said, a little slurred because he was trying to press his head into the side post of the car to relieve his headache.
“You are to be thanked for your words, Rip. You good person are too. If I can say so, glad you my friend. You really should look in to working out some. Want to jog with me starting next week?” Blaise asked.
“Right now, putting one foot in front of the other is more work than I want to think about. Ask me after the hospital and I will answer you better, okay?” Rip groaned, a groan that was just short of a whine, because he truly hurt both in his head and in his stomach, which was demanding to be filled.
“I will do so. Your shirt is tight. I noticed that when I carry you to Medical.”
Rip struggled to sit upright. “You have been bugging me about my weight for how long now, Blaise? Six years? I have to say that from you I don’t mind it. You observe, not criticize, for which I thank you. Most other people are rude about it,” he said in as level a voice as he could. “So, I have been fighting my weight and waistline since I was a kid.”
“I have no feelings to hurt, Rip. I know you do and have seen and heard some rough comments. You need friend, not critic. Help I will, if you want.”
“I know, and thank you for offering,” Rip said as they pulled into the hospital.
“It is the right thing to do.”
Back at the tower, Twilight and Spike kept themselves busy, checking out the lab systems. The items that were in the middle of fabrication when power was lost, she decided to dispose of them, going for safety. The lab equipment was undamaged, as was the main central computer, Spike giving ‘himself’ a thorough checking over before confirming his initial report, all systems in the computer operating as designed.
Full power was restored to the building, via alternate means, within an hour. The electric company sent a crew over to replace the breaker. When ‘irregularities’ were found, the crew foreman reported to his boss, who took it to his boss, who called Rarity. After receiving the report, Rarity made a request, which was swiftly agreed to by the power company representative. One minute after hanging up, Rarity called Twilight Sparkle. Six minutes after that, Twilight was in the basement of the building with a scanner and a sample kit. She was allowed to do thorough scans of the breaker, the breaker panel, some of the cabling leading into and out of the junction box, and samples of the burned cabling, insulation, and bits of the breaker, which she took up to her lab for analysis.
She was still working at the examination when she smelled cigarette smoke. Looking up, she saw Rarity standing nearby. “Have you found anything yet, darling?”
Twilight sighed. “Yes, I have. I can tell you what happened, but not why.”
“So, what happened?” Rarity asked.
Twilight began a technical explanation of her findings, but after thirty seconds or less, Rarity held up a hand. “Simplify, please. I’m not an electrical engineer.”
Twilight thought for a few seconds. “Basically, what I found was a lot of heat damage, on the output side of the breaker, meaning where the power comes into the building. What is unusual is that the metal of the cabling is showing a lot of heat stress on the inside of the cable, where it should not be. It’s as if the resistance of the cable increased enormously for a brief time, causing the cabling and the breaker to overheat and explode.”
Rarity stared at the coal on her cigarette, her mind working quickly. “That should be impossible. How can something like that happen?” she asked.
“I can only think of one reason, and that’s a metahuman. What puzzles me is why only that one spot. He or she should know that this building has more than one source of power. Sure, it hurt the building, but not for long. If it was someone truly after us, I can think of dozens of different ways to cripple the building, if the right spots were selected,” Twilight thought out loud.
“You said the wire coming out of the breaker was disturbed. Would it be possible to trace the disturbance? Maybe we can learn something that way,” Rarity suggested.
While Twilight thought, Spike spoke up. “It can be done, but it’s not going to be easy. The cabling is not designed to be easily accessible. We can try, but if the disturbance peaked at the breaker, we may not be able to follow it before it becomes undetectable to the scanner.”
“Spike is right, Rarity. We can try that, but I don’t know if I can trace it,” Twilight said.
“There can be one way, but we’re going to have to wait until late to do it,” Spike said. “We can use the Matterhorn suit to do a magic trace on the disturbed wiring. We have samples here, so we know what to look for.”
“He does have a point,” Rarity observed, pulling out and lighting another cigarette in a smooth, practiced motion. Twilight looked on in disapproval but didn’t say anything. While she did not like smoking, she had to admit that it is better than Rarity drinking.
“Yes, it does. I can do that, and will do that, but not until the building is mostly empty. I’m sure Spike can lure anyone away who could possibly observe Matterhorn in the building.”
“Sounds like a plan, darling. Do keep me informed. Wake me if it is significant, but if it can wait until the morning, please do so,” Rarity said before sighing. “I’ll be in my office or apartment if you need to find me.”
At the hospital, Rip Current was checked over thoroughly. He was given an IV medication that eased his headache. X-rays came up clear, despite some concussion signs, but it was his blood work that turned up an anomaly. The emergency room doctor, Greensleeve, brought it up with both men.
“Your blood work is indicating that you were engaged in some heavy exercise recently. Your blood glucose readings are extremely low. While I admire your desire to lose weight, you really should not take it to such extremes, Mister Current. The next collapse may not happen in such a benign place.”
“What is unusual, is that Rip did not exercise like that all day, Doctor. Know I do. I am supervisor to him at work. There was incident, yes, but the one that received a small shock was I, not him,” Blaise droned.
The doctor looked at Blaise’s scarred face and head, with what Blaise noticed was a mix of pity, disgust, and dismay. He was used to such looks. That was why Blaise liked Rip as much as he did, because Rip did it only once, then ignored the marring. “That is what his blood work is showing, Mister Arrow. Anomalous, but not critical. I would suggest, Mister Current, that you report to a blood lab once a day, after work, for a sample to be taken, the results being sent to me. I will make the arrangements and send you an email as to where.”
Rip looked up at the doctor. “Two questions. One, is it covered by my insurance, and two, when can I have something to eat?” he asked.
“Yes, it is, and as soon as you leave. I would suggest not driving for the next day. The medication for the migraine could have side effects that affects you behind the wheel,” Greensleeve advised.
“I will take you home and pick you up in the morning, Rip. Your car will be all right in the garage at the tower,” Blaise said to his friend.
“Good. Can we stop at a burger stand on the way home? I’ll buy.” Rip offered.
“Agree I will. Doctor, should I restrict his eating?” Blaise asked.
Greensleeve looked up from the tablet he was writing on. “Not today, Mister Arrow. How he is even conscious right now is nothing short of a miracle. I have seen cases of low blood sugar before, but not as low as his. He does need to recover.”
“Understood. Ready are you to go?” Blaise asked.
“Yes, I am. I would like a wheelchair, though. I am a bit dizzy,” Rip said.
“Side effect of the anti-migraine. It will be gone in the morning. I’ll get a wheelchair, and we’ll have you go to the discharge nurse for release. Don’t forget your blood sample tomorrow!” Greensleeve cautioned.
“I won’t, Doctor. Please email me the results. I’ll look up the meanings when I get a chance.”
“Blaise brought me to a burger stand, where I ordered three deluxe burgers, two large fries and a forty-four drink. He ordered the chicken deluxe sandwich and tater tots. By the time we got back here, I had already consumed two of the burgers and one of the packs of fries. He helped me to the door and got me in the chair here. I finished eating, then I made another here. I’m stuffed, but still hungry.
“I just hope tomorrow is a better day. Close diary Lambda seven two seven Yankee.”
While Rip was busy eating, dictating and cleaning up, Blaise headed back to the tower, to handle the relevant paperwork. Unlike most technicians who loathed paperwork, Blaise accepted it as part of his job. His prior specialty as a missile technician in the Eastern Army highlighted the need for clear concise paperwork. Plus, he wanted to clean up the I.T. work room. He regarded a neat work area to be more important than concise paperwork, but not by much. That became his first chore, to set the I.T. lab to rights. Not that there was much in disarray, but neither he nor Rip had put away the tools they were using. If there was one thing the tall, lean Easterner and the round-bodied Equestrian agreed upon, it is keeping the work area neat, all tools stowed properly. As he cleaned, he could tell someone else had been in the room, but seeing as I.T. for the tower was more than just him and Rip, he was not too concerned, although it was the lab where the two of them did most of their repair work. Rank does have its privileges.
When that chore was done, his next stop was his desk, to get the paperwork in order, detailing the incidents, taking Rip to the hospital, report of diagnosis and disposition. That way, neither of them would get dinged for missing work. By the time he was done, putting all the paperwork in the proper in-baskets, it was almost nine at night. “Worthwhile it is to sacrifice physical training for one day. Helping those under me is the right thing to do,” he said quietly to himself as he logged off and prepared to shut down his terminal.
“Mister Arrow, please report to Research and Development,” Doctor Sparkle’s voice was heard to say. “Now!”
Blaise looked around, confused. He was sure he had shut down his terminal. His phone pinged with an incoming text message. Checking it, he saw it was from a number he did not know, but the message was clear. ‘You were not hearing things, Mr. Arrow. I am waiting. Dr. Sparkle’, is what he read. With a nod, he did as he was bid.
It was two elevators and about a four-minute walk to the R&D lab’s door, which slid open in front of Blaise. “Do come in, Mister Arrow. I want to go over some data with you,” she said from behind her desk, the official head of R&D’s desk, which she seldom used.
“Ja, Doctor Sparkle. What is problem?” Blaise asked.
“Sit down and watch that screen,” Twilight ordered. Quickly, the scarred Easterner did so. While his expression did not change one bit, if asked, he would say that being here was scaring him to the very core of his being, the reason being while he KNEW this Doctor Sparkle was not the dread Professor Midnight, the similarities when hard at work did frighten him. Unconsciously, he rubbed the back of his neck, where his freedom from the East lay next to his spinal column, ready to detonate and cut his head off if he tried to talk about any Eastern military secrets.
Twilight walked Blaise through her findings about the incident, and the ‘disrupted’ wiring she found near the breaker box. “I managed to trace the disruption back to its source, by finding traces in the wiring. Care to guess where the disruption path led me to?” she asked.
“If asked to speculate, say I would it has something to do with I.T., otherwise talking to me you would not be doing. Why, I cannot answer. What do you know that I know not?” Blaise asked in his bland voice, which betrayed no emotion. He could not emote with his voice or facial muscles, just his eyes.
Wiring diagrams came up on the big display screen, starting at the main junction bus and working downstream. “Tracing the disruptions, I followed the trail back to your lab. Specifically, to one particular piece of equipment,” she said, the diagram changing to a security scan of the lab when the lights were on, before he cleaned up. The camera zoomed in on one power bar, then traced what was plugged into it, leading to the monitor Rip had been working on.
The view then changed to when the two were working, the time stamp showing it was just before the power outage. The scene showed Blaise jumping when the spark flared, then the room went dark, except for emergency lighting. The monitor changed views, this one showing a side view of Rip Current when the spark flashed, then his expression of concern and determination before the power went out. “Now, please tell me what was reported by the doctors after you brought Rip Current to the hospital. I have Glory Wrap’s report. Please give me yours.”
In monotone, Blaise reported his actions from the moment they left the building to when he returned, not describing the conversations verbatim, but saying they did talk. When his explanation was complete, Twilight looked at Blaise and asked, “What are your conclusions, Mister Arrow?”
“It is to me that Rip Current is the source of the problems we have had today. How and why, I do not know, but speculate I can when it all started. Last week, when he missed a day. The day before, tell I could he was not at peak, but his less than peak is better than many others at their best. Surprised I was not he not come in next day,” Blaise said.
“I feel the same way, Mister Arrow. What is your recommendation as to how we should proceed from here?” Twilight asked, with tones of concern, which startled Blaise some.
“Honest I will be, Professor. Talk to him we should, in complete privacy. Ask him what he knows of himself, and what he would like to do. I think he is more scared of himself than we are of him. Know him I have six years now, and he is not taking this well. While I know he likes to eat, never I have seen him go as far as he did today. Know I do he has put on weight, both rapidly and recently. His clothes were tight on him, and it took more effort to lift him than it has in past,” Blaise droned in complete honesty.
“Your assessment matches mine, Mister Arrow. Tomorrow morning, report to me after check-in. We will talk with Rip Current. I will be doing some research tonight. You go now and get some rest,” Twilight said in gentler tones, more suggesting than ordering.
The tones surprised Blaise yet again, his pupils widening a little before going back to normal. “Ja, I shall do so. Until morning, Doctor Sparkle?” he asked, snapping to attention and saluting her in an instinctive maneuver.
“At ease, Mister Arrow. Yes, until morning. Dismissed,” she said, giving a rather unimpressive salute in return. Blaise did a sharp about face and departed the office.
Once the door shut, Twilight sighed and relaxed in her big desk chair. “Thank you for the prompts, Spike. I don’t normally act that way, but you seem to have read Mister Arrow perfectly.”
“I’ve read his psych profile, Twilight, you haven’t. He does not like to prevaricate. Best he could do is lie by omission, and he did not have any reason to lie. He was as surprised about this as you are,” Spike said, appearing on the main monitor in dragon form, wearing a white doctor’s coat, sporting a neat little gray beard and holding a notepad.
Twilight giggled at the sight. “Playing psychologist now, Spike?”
Spike grinned back at Twilight. “With what we have going on here, it helps. Mister Arrow is straightforward and easy to read, if you know his background. What I do not understand is why he is afraid of you when you act in a commanding way. I may not know why, but I know it happens, and so he’s easy.
“Mister Current I know less about, but he will require less in the way of order and a lot more in the way of support. I get the feeling, observing security footage of him dating back as far as I can reach, that whatever is happening to him has him more scared than delighted.”
Twilight nodded in agreement. “With what he did today, that would not surprise me.
“Now, back to our regularly scheduled workload, okay?”
Spike’s lab coat and goatee disappeared, leaving him in his scales, notebook replaced by a quill and a scroll. “Ready when you are!” as the bottom of the scroll unrolled, and unrolled, and unrolled, falling out of view of the monitor.
The next morning, Blaise picked Rip up at his apartment promptly on time. Rip moved cautiously, tugging on the hem of his polo shirt. “Have good night, did you?” Blaise asked.
“Night good, morning sucked rocks. I may take a half day today and go shopping. None of my clothes are comfortable,” Rip answered, a flush purpling his green cheek.
“And that is why?” Blaise asked as he pulled out into traffic.
“Because I cannot control my appetite, that’s why! In about a week, somehow I’ve put on fifteen pounds!” Rip wailed in distress. “I’ve never minded how I looked, but what’s going on has me scared half to death, while the other half wants more feeding!”
“Have problem you do, ja. Help we can find. Do you want?” Blaise asked, his voice unchanging.
“Yes, I want help, but where can I find it? I’m just so scared…” Rip trailed off as a thought worked through his mind. “Why would you be saying I have a problem, Blaise?”
“Because you do. Doctor Sparkle is very good researcher. Blackout yesterday you cause. Know not on purpose. Doctor Sparkle find out, she called me last night, and proof she show. Talk to us she wants when we in office arrive.”
Rip settled down then, not speaking for a good mile or two before he did so. “Blaise, one thing I do know about you is how to read you. I can tell you are concerned about me and do want to help. For that, I am grateful. What does she have in mind?”
“Know that I do not. How you tell my concern? Want to know I do.” Blaise stated bluntly.
“Your words get more stilted the more agitated you are. This is not your first language, and it shows, especially when you are concerned or thinking. I figured that out years ago, back at Silver Innovations before the merger,” Rip replied.
“What I like about you, you accept me and not worry about differences. Many others ask why I stay the way I am. You said something once, then no more. From that, I know you I can trust, and have done so,” Blaise explained as they got waved through the checkpoint for the parking garage under Rare Innovations Tower.
“Yeah, I trust you too. But you already know that.”
“Ja.”
The two men reported to Doctor Sparkle’s official office directly after clock-in. She was waiting there, looking just as sharp as she did the night before. “Good morning, gentlemen. Can I offer you some breakfast?” she asked politely, smiling at Rip.
“Tea for me, please,” Blaise stated.
“Coffee and whatever’s on the griddle, Doctor,” Rip replied.
Twilight pointed to two chairs in front of her desk. “Do sit down.” When they did, two motiles rolled up, one carrying a mug of Blaise’s favorite morning tea, while the other had a mug of coffee, mixed to Rip’s taste, along with some buttered toast and bacon.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Rip said before attacking the toast like he had not eaten since the night before, which was most definitely not the case.
“Gentlemen, I have spent the night studying. I believe I know the cause of your appetite, Mister Current. Your meta talent is primarily mental in nature. Your brain takes up a lot of energy in relation to the rest of your body, so, when you exercise your talent, you burn a lot of energy.
“Tell me, what do you know about yourself, so far?” she asked.
Without hesitating, Rip spilled the beans about what he knew. After a couple of minutes explaining, he asked, “Do you have a laser pointer I can use? Just a small, disposable one will do.”
Twilight opened her top desk drawer and pulled one out, one of the little ones you hang on a key chain. He picked it up and held it. “Now, like this, it is just a lump of plastic and metal. When I turn it on,” which he did, pointing it at a far wall, “I can sense the current flow in this device, which is powered by three small batteries which are not meant to be replaced. Now, with a current flow, I can… interfere… with it.” Rip reached across the desk to a roll of tape. Pulling out a length, he wrapped the tape around the pointer, keeping the beam on.
He then put the pointer on the corner of the desk, beam pointing to a wall. “I can either start and stop the current,” he explained, making the pointer blink on and off, “or I can throttle it down, increasing the resistance to the current flow, heating the device. You won’t feel much now; it will take a few seconds to warm up.
“There is one more thing I can do. Reverse the current flow rapidly. That will lead to detonation of the batteries. I won’t show you that here,” he explained, releasing his ‘hold’ on the pointer, which resumed its normal shine.
“What happened yesterday?” Twilight asked.
“Well, when I saw Blaise getting sparked, my first thought was to shut the power off. I missed and shut off the whole building. The larger my effects, the hungrier I get after. Doing what I did then, well, I woke up three times during the night to eat something.”
“When you do what you do, Mister Current, you leave traces that can be found. That’s how you were tracked down. You do not object to Mister Arrow knowing about you and your talent, yes?” she asked.
“No objections, Doctor Sparkle. I trust him,” Rip replied without hesitating.
Blaise glanced at Twilight, making eye contact. She nodded once. “Rip, something I have to tell you. The spark would not have harmed me. I can defend.”
“How so?”
Blaise raised his hands and called up the crossbow and shield. “I, too, am meta. Quiet I keep it. Bolts can stun, shock, heat or penetrate, depending on what I want. If watch I do, miss I do not. Shield work very good, too. Trust you I do too, because is right thing to do.” Rip said the last four words in perfect synch with Blaise.
“What I want to know is, what do I do now? Do I go on like nothing has happened, or do I go someplace for examination? Right now, my appetite scares me. I’ve put on fifteen pounds in a week already!” Rip said, his worry becoming apparent.
Twilight leaned back in her chair. “What I have to say, Mister Current, is that you should stop worrying about it. I will start to help you, and I will find others who would want to help you, too. Just go about your life, and find some appetite suppressants,” she said with a small smile.
“I’ll remember that. I have to shop today anyhow. My clothes are getting uncomfortable,” Rip said before finishing his coffee.
This time, Twilight looked at Blaise, who nodded once in return. “Rip, I suggest you take rest of week off, starting now. Keep your blood test appointments, and I will check with you once a day, or you can call me if you need to,” he droned.
“I will check with you as well, Mister Current. You will find some phone numbers in your phone that lead to me or a message service if I am unavailable. You need help, and we are offering,” Twilight told him.
“What about the company? Hell, what about my job?” Rip said with worry.
“Your place is secure, Mister Current. I will clear everything with Rarity myself.” Twilight stood up out of her chair. “You have left me with a lot to think about. Like Mister Arrow said, take off the rest of the week.”
“You really mean it… you’re not mad at me?” Rip asked.
“Why should we? You did not intend to blow the main power lead into the building, causing my fabricators to shut down in mid-process, spoiling what I was working on. How can we be mad at you?” Twilight said in reasonable tones. “No intended damage, no reason to get mad.”
“Ja. You do so for good reason, to help me. No reason to be upset. Relax, get calm, and get some fresh clothing. Your pants have to be painful,” Blaise stated.
“They are,” Rip said before the inseams of his pants split at the crotch with a loud noise. He blushed all over. “I think I need something to wear out of the building…” he said in a meek voice as Twilight let out a small laugh. Blaise remained impassive, but Rip was sure he would not embarrass him further.
Author's Note
Second of the bonus chapters before I move. Next one Monday.
So, Rip Current is also a meta, and a powerful one, with a lot of side effects. What will he do with it? What can he do with himself? The answers to these questions and more will be revealed in future chapters of Back Roads! Stay tuned!

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                05- Training Into Practice                 
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05- Training Into Practice
About two weeks after the two men found about each other’s Talents, Blaise Arrow and Rip Current were in a ‘secure location’ outside of town, practicing with their Talents, the location being Blaise’s cabin and forge. Blaise was improving not only his marksmanship, but the speed in which he could change arrows in his crossbow, switching between stun, penetration, heat and shock. He was also trying to develop a fifth variety, that being explosive, but he could not quite get the hang of that. Rip Current was practicing, on this day, to ‘reverse the polarity of the neutron flow’ as he referred to it, on small powered items within the range of his Talent. Rip found that by tossing a small laser pointer, he could detonate it at any range, provided he held it first and tossed it. Just doing it at a distance he was limited to line-of-sight, for the small powered items. The explosion from a laser pointer would leave a mark on a nearby surface. Exploding a watch on someone’s wrist, according to the tests they could rig up, could conceivably blow someone’s wrist off.
After a half-hour of drilling, Blaise called a halt, to reset with fresh targets. They had an ample supply of target materials in the old barn they were using, and Rip had brought along a large box of small and medium powered items, to detonate. “We stop now, for ration bar and water,” Blaise droned. “Just ONE ration bar.”
Rip looked heartbroken. “But I’m hungry, Blaise! One won’t be enough!” he complained.
Blaise turned quickly and jammed a stiff finger into Rip’s soft stomach, making him grunt. “Nein. ONE is all you get now. Waiting we are still for test results. With all we do, five kilos you have gained in two week past.”
“I know, Blaise,” Rip said, sounding upset and sad, which he was. “Appetite suppressors are not working on me, and I’m doing everything I can to not stuff myself until I feel pain. I just can’t help being hungry all the time.” Rip sat down on a box, which promptly collapsed under his nearly three hundred twenty-pound weight. “Shit.”
Blaise helped Rip stand up. “Try I know you do. Easy I know it is not. Have a bar and water while I set up for next round of training.”
“Even when I was in the Navy, drilling was not anywhere near this hard on me,” Rip complained as he got back to his feet. “I do not know how you can still do it.”
Blaise gave his friend the promised ration and water. “Army life very tough. Harder than on ship. You pack thirty kilos one hundred kilometers through rough terrain to get to remote missile battery. Easy it is not. Practice I have kept up.”
“Life on a carrier is not easy, especially when you are sailing through a revolving storm doing flight ops. Hard to do soldering when the ship is pitching ten degrees and rolling fifteen. That stuff, I can endure. Walking a hundred kilometers in the rough, no way!” Rip said as he tore the wrapper off the ration bar.
“While seasick I get watching waves. You tough different than I am. Faith in you I have, and so does Doctor Sparkle and Miss Rarity,” Blaise said in his monotone as he cleared out the damaged targets.
Rip buzzed through the ration bar and drank half a liter of water before replying. “Thank you for saying so, Blaise. I know I complain a lot, but it is my way of coping with what’s going on. I’ve counted you as a friend for years now, and I have no plans to stop being so now. If I upset you, I apologize.”
Blaise paused in his target building to look at Rip, the scarring on the side of his head plainly visible. Rip was long since immune to the sight of the scars. “Feelings I not have, so hurt them you cannot. Apology accepted, because you need to. Set up your next phase of target making, the car batteries and lanterns.”
“Okay, Blaise. This is where I’m trying to put out the light without causing the battery to explode, right?” Rip said as he put the half-empty bottle down and walked to where the wagon was set up, with a car battery, jumper cables, and several lanterns hooked up to a remote control, allowing each lamp to be lit by Blaise while Rip tried to put it out.
“Ja, Rip. That is plan,” Blaise said as he set up his own row of targets.
That was the plan, but that is not what happened. Rip, in the setup they had rigged, could not target the lights, just the battery. Car batteries, especially the lead-acid ones, tend to explode violently when the current flow is forcibly reversed. Fortunately, their injuries were minor, and the fire was quickly put out.
“I think we should call our training for today, Blaise,” Rip said after the fire was out and the area policed.
“Ja, Rip, I agree.”
On their way back home in Equestrian City, the two men decided to stop at a drive-up fast food place. Blaise placed the order and paid for it, since he was driving. He pulled over into a nearby parking lot to have the evening meal, not wanting to eat and drive, because that was not the right thing to do. Rip was glad that Blaise bought dinner, but not glad he was limited to one burger, one pack of fries and a soft drink. A DIET soft drink. Rip did not give voice to his unhappiness. Blaise had a deluxe chicken sandwich, because there is one thing he refused to eat, and that is any sort of beef product. Pork, chicken, fish, all were okay, but beef was RIGHT OUT, in his mind. Rip, who did enjoy a good beefsteak and thick juicy burgers, was thankful that Blaise did not mind if anyone nearby had beef, just he himself would not partake of it.
As the two men finished, they became aware of a van pulling into the lot where they were parked at a high rate of speed, said van coming to a screeching halt in front of a jewelry store. Rip and Blaise did not see the front window shattering, but they did hear it. They looked at each other. “Good thing it is getting dark, isn’t it?” Rip said quietly.
“Ja. Idea I have. You touch van, you affect at distance, ja?” Blaise said.
Rip nodded. “Right. I need to touch it, to ensure I get just that one and not miss, potentially blacking out half the city.”
“I drive up past van, like looking for trash can. Drive by, you touch van, we go to far side. They come out, you blow van motor, I pick off perpetrators. Do?”
“We can do that. Pull around the corner of the building there,” Rip said, pointing. “You get the car out of sight; we get out and cover behind planter. You pick off perpetrators, I will blow that van motor to kingdom come.”
“We do it,” Blaise said, putting his car in gear. He drove past the parked van, Rip rolling down the window and lightly touching the van body. The car’s approach was covered by the sound of the burglar alarm wailing, as was its higher speed departure.
Blaise whipped his car around the corner and stopped when he was far enough in to put his car out of sight. Both men exited the car, Rip going to the building corner while Blaise crawled rapidly to the planter, lying flat. They watched as three people came out of the building, two carrying some sort of bag, the third a stick. They could not tell for sure, because of the low light around the van.
As the first of the people got into the van, the van driver started the motor. Once he was sure the motor was running, Rip did his thing. He forcibly reversed the current flow in the van. The lights went out and the battery exploded with a loud bang, smoke coming from under the hood. The van did not move as a little fire started showing from under it. The four people inside started exiting rapidly, through the side doors. Blaise proved his marksmanship badges were well-earned, each one getting a stun bolt, dropping them all before the last one got ten feet away.
“Think we should get out of here?” Rip asked as Blaise scrambled back to the car.
“Nein. You call police and tell them what you heard and saw, because parked here having food we were doing, ja?” Blaise said as firmly as he could.
“Good idea. Glad you thought of it,” Rip said, reaching for his phone.
“It is right thing to do, ja?”
“Yes, it is the right thing to do. I already did.” said a voice from the rooftop. Rip looked up in total surprise, while Blaise was a bit calmer. They saw a young lady standing there, her ponytail blowing lightly in the breeze. “I’ve been tracking them for days. Thanks for the help!”
The young lady leaped off the roof, doing a double flip before landing gracefully on the sidewalk next to the two men. “My card,” she said, giving them both a card. “You have a good idea, calling the police. I already did, and they will be here soon. Give Captain Nightwatch my regards,” she said before taking her leave gracefully.
Rip glanced at the card, then the departing figure. “Shadowstrike. She’s awesome…” he breathed.
“Impressive would say I,” Blaise said as the first police car pulled up, lights flashing. The fire under the van was getting more intense.
“Unit Two-Seven to dispatch! Send fire department here, vehicle fire. Need backup as well, have four unconscious perpetrators here along with spilled loot,” the two men could hear.
“Sending fire and backup, Unit Two-Seven,” Dispatch said over the radio.
Blaise and Rip sat down on the planter and watched as Equestrian City’s Finest and Bravest came out to clean up the mess. It was about ten minutes later when they were approached by someone in civilian clothes. “Evening, gentlemen. I’m Captain Nightwatch, Equestrian City Police Department. Thank you for waiting. Can you tell me what happened here?” he asked politely.
Blaise and Rip told their stories, as much as they were going to tell, anyway. When they were done, Rip added on, “We waited for you because Shadowstrike said we should. She gives you her regards, too.” Blaise just nodded in agreement.
“Shadowstrike, eh? Interesting. Since I have all your information, you two are free to go. If we need anything more, we will call you. Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen,” Nightwatch told them.
“Happy we are to help police here keep city safe. Live here too we do. Fight I can do, friend here not so much,” Blaise said in his expressionless monotone.
“Yeah. What can I do, sit on them?” Rip added.
Nightwatch just looked at Rip’s obese frame. “That can hurt. Thank you, gentlemen, and have a good evening,” he told them.
“You too, Captain,” Rip said as Nightwatch headed back to the scene of the crime.
“Time it is to home I take you. Want another pit stop?” Blaise offered as they walked to the car.
“Blaise, if you offer, then I will accept. I will buy this time.”
“Ja. It is right thing to do.”
Author's Note
First Phoenix, Now Shadowstrike. Who else will they meet? Stay tuned for future developments! Next episode, Twilight gets an assistant from an unlikely place!
As for me, moving Wednesday. Next post will be next Monday for Chapter Six. Hope y'all like!

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                      06- Wave Rider                       
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06- Wave Rider
Wave Rider sat with his sister at Canterlot High’s Battle of the Bands. He had graduated from Canterlot High three years before, and is attending college in Equestrian City, majoring in robotics. He was at this battle because his little sister, Sand Castle, is a sophomore this year and had asked her big brother to escort her to the Battle. Wave agreed to it, because he and his sister have been close since she was little more than an infant. The two did look a lot alike, with a bronze skin tone and coppery hair, Wave’s being more brilliant orange while Sand’s tended more towards the red end of the spectrum.
They had enjoyed the Rainbooms performance, sitting towards the back of the theater, when the blast hit. The last thing he remembered was grabbing his sister and trying to wrap himself around her before what felt like a blowtorch hit him in his lower back. He did not wake up for over two weeks, coming to in a hospital bed, unable to feel his legs. His back had been broken and burned in the blast. That sent Wave Rider into a depressive spiral for several days, until his sister arrived to get him out of it. He had always kept himself fit, because he was a competitive surfer in breaks from school, and now he could not stand on a board, nor even stand at all.
Sand Castle got him out of his depression by not only proving to him that he had saved her from getting crushed and burned by the debris that broke his back, she got him to understand that she expected him to be there for her, like he always had been. Took her a day or so, but after the delay in her getting there, she stayed by him all through his therapy and rehabilitation. He even forgave her for not being there while he was unconscious, after finding out that their parents and her had been ‘relocated’ to the far side of Equestrian City and getting resettled was taxing everyone to their limits.
It took another month or so for Wave to be cleared for release from the hospital, having relearned how to handle himself with non-functioning legs. Fortunately, his upper body strength was quite good, and he had always kept himself athletically lean, so getting around was a chore, not a problem. In that time, his family’s home was outfitted to handle a wheelchair, his college time was updated and reset to handle his being wheelchair-bound, and he became popular with the hospital staff. He credited his sister for changing his attitude about his disability, coming to regard it as an ‘inconvenience’ instead of a ‘handicap’.
Back at college, he found that somehow being in a wheelchair sharpened his attention, enabling him to pass his classes not only with a higher grade point average, he was able to accelerate his schedule, getting his doctorate in robotics engineering in a little under five years. His graduation was understandably a high point in his life. The death of his parents in a car smash on the way home from the ceremony put a pall over it, but not much of one. He had to help his sister, who at the time was a sophomore in the same college he went to.
Their deaths were a blessing in disguise because the insurance money went a long way in getting the pair stabilized while Wave looked for work. He landed a job at Tiara Technologies shortly after graduating, and worked his way up the ranks there, eventually becoming second in command of R&D, under Diamond Tiara’s director, Moondancer. All was well until the Tiara Technologies Terminator Armor project came up. That was when sparks started to fly between himself and Diamond Tiara. He violently objected to the idea of using lethal force in the use of the suit. Every time he proposed a non-lethal variant, it got shot down. Matters reached a boiling point when, during an argument with Diamond Tiara, he not only quit, he declared that he would not consider himself bound to any agreements made about future employment elsewhere, because he had lost all respect for that ‘little girl behind the big desk’. He did declare that he would not discuss the TTTA project with anyone, lest it gets into the wrong hands and is rendered ineffective. He had worked hard on that project, and he would take its secrets to the grave. Diamond Tiara snapped back that she could arrange that as he flipped her off and rolled out of her office.
Wave decided that now would be a good time to take some extended time off before he started looking for work. His severance pay from Tiara Technologies would be enough to support him and his sister in comfort for over a year, actually more, because Sand Castle has a job with the City, her degree in architecture landing her a position in the Building Inspector’s office. He kicked back and took it easy for a while, only leaving home to shop.
It was on one of his shopping trips when he was cut off by another van. After slamming on the brakes, Wave looked up to see the back door fly open and someone firing a machine gun at him! He had no time to dodge, seeing the muzzle flash of the gun getting longer and brighter. He could feel the impact of the slugs hitting the van, and himself, as the shooter’s van pulled away.
Wave found himself unhurt, though the front of the van was riddled with bullet holes, and his wheelchair had taken some hits, one bullet having severed the drive belt for his chair. One thing he did was remove the SD chip from his dash camera, putting it in a pocket. When police arrived, he was helped out of the van because his chair lift no longer had power and was checked over by police and ambulance personnel. They were startled that he was not shot up, though the front of his van had many bullet holes. After a thorough interview with the police, he was allowed to head home to his very worried sister.
“Wave, how come you would not answer your phone? I’ve been calling you for hours, ever since I heard about the shooting on the radio!” she declared when he got home.
“Two reasons. One, I was being interviewed at length first by the police, then by the insurance rep. Two, my phone doesn’t work, it having taken a bullet or two while mounted on the dash,” Wave said in return.
“Yes, that will do it. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I am, and I think I know why,” Wave said. “either I’m the luckiest person alive, or I’m a meta. I’m leaning to the second option myself.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I got hit by several bullets, two to the face and at least four to the chest. Look, sis, no holes!” he said with a chuckle. “I think I can generate a force field around me that will deflect bullets.”
“A force field? What makes you say that?” Sand asked, looking a touch confused.
Wave removed his coat, then his shirt and tee-shirt. Once removed, holes were evident in all three layers, the coat holes concealed because of the coat’s dark color. “See? I think it’s a skin-tight field”
“Well, that’s one hell of a way to find out about it. At least you’re all right, and that’s what is important.”
“That it is. Now, I think we should dispose of these clothes before the police come sniffing around, wanting to ask more questions,” Wave said as he started emptying the pockets. Touching the chip, he gave a thin smile. “Besides, while I gave the police a full and accurate report, I didn’t tell them everything. This is the vid chip from the dashcam.”
“You and your damned vanity, surfer dude!” Sand laughed. “You and your cameras!”
“Hey, at least now I have some proof I was shot at. Also, I think I recognized something about that van. I know I have seen it before. A little research should jog my memory.”
“Your photographic memory has saved your ass before, Wave. Let’s see if it can save you again.”
After viewing the chip several times, there were several things that Wave was certain of, they being the van was of a type Tiara Technologies uses, the person who shot at him had a tattoo of some sort on his (or hers) right cheek, the person he had seen in the halls of Tiara Tech, and the plates on the van were more than likely not of the van itself. After reporting his ideas to the police, the next day, after a good night’s sleep, Wave went to tackle his next two projects.
His first chore was to check out his force field, to see if he could get it under voluntary control. He could, but it took a good two weeks of practicing before he felt comfortable with it. As far as Wave and Sand could figure, it was proof up to and including bullets of the caliber he was shot at with. The field was flexible, conforming to his skin and moving with him. If he made the field cover him completely, he found he could only maintain it for as long as he could hold his breath. To breathe, he had to decrease face protection enough to let air pass. At that point, scents and particulates would penetrate the field. He did not want to test the protection level, nor did his sister want to smack him in the face repeatedly with a baseball bat. So, after his basic setpoint finding, Wave Rider put the idea into the ‘done for now’ folder and went on to his second chore, that being to build something that would enable him to walk.
That chore was paradoxically easy and hard. Easy because of the work he did with the TTTA, he knew how it could be done. Hard because he did not have many of the materials nor fabrication facilities. It took him a month to kitbash something together that would enable him to stand up and walk across the room. Not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a start. Of course, getting into and out of the apparatus was a chore. A difficult chore. Not to mention it was uncomfortable enough to require enough attention to preclude doing much else.
“Wave, after all we’ve done with the apparatus, I can only think of doing one of two things,” Sand Castle said as she helped him out of the apparatus after a test run.
“What are they, Sand?” Wave asked, hanging by one of the multitude of straps that hung down from the ceiling, so he could move about the house without using his wheelchair. If anything, since the Catastrophe, his upper body strength had improved some, his frame still trim and athletic enough to attract attention from the ladies if he still surfed competitively.
“Either we try to build a full suit of armor for you to wear, so the whole unit can support itself, or we work on your wheelchairs so that a stray bullet won’t leave you dead in the water,” she said bleakly, plopping down in the lab’s sole comfortable chair.
“You have a point, Sandy. Problem is figuring out how to build a full suit without the facilities available at either Tiara Tech or Diamond Labs,” Wave sighed. “That or figure out a way to make wheelchairs less vulnerable to random flying ballistic pieces of lead.”
“I have an idea on that, Wave. Two motors, one each to the main wheels, individually controlled, acting like a two-engine speedboat.”
Wave thought on that for a moment or so. “Not a bad idea, but that ties up both hands. I would love to use the encephalic controller modes, but I don’t have the pieces to build one, nor the programming to make it work right,” he said with a sigh. “With Tiara after my ass, I need to think of something better.”
At that moment, the house phone chose to ring. Being closer, Sand went to get it. Checking the caller ID, she blinked once before picking it up. “Yes, hello… He is… Let me ask…” Sand held the phone to her chest. “Rare Innovations wants to speak to Doctor Wave Rider. Will you take the call?”
Wave nodded. “Let me get to my chair first,” he said, brachiating to his chair and sitting down before reaching for the phone, “Ready now.” Sand passed him the handset. “Doctor Rider speaking.”
“Doctor Rider, I am Rarity Belle, of Rare Innovations. It has recently come to my attention that you have parted company with Tiara Technologies. Would you like a position with Rare Innovations, being a second checker on our Wonderbolt type one suit?” Wave heard, immediately recognizing Rarity’s cultured voice from many press conferences, news briefs, and other times, mostly tape recordings in the TT lab of previous conferences in the competition.
“Miss Belle, it would be an honor and a privilege to take such a position. May I record this conversation and send a copy of it to Tiara Technologies in order to prevent some unpleasantness later?” Wave asked, matching class with class.
“Of course not, Doctor Rider! In fact, we should both send copies there independently, as to keep all of us covered. We waited this long to make you an offer because of your recent shooting incident. Have you heard anything farther about the progress of your case from the police department?”
Wave thought very long and hard before replying. “From the police department, very little. On my own investigations, I have indicators that are pointing in a certain direction, but nothing I can use in court. I thank you for your thoughtfulness in this matter. Some nights, I must confess, I need a good stiff drink to shut off the occasional nightmare.”
“You really should be careful about that, darling. Going overboard with that can lead to much unpleasantness,” Rarity cautioned.
“I understand completely, Miss Rarity. Now, to the reason for the recording. I, Doctor Wave Rider, formerly assistant project manager of Tiara Technologies Terminator Armor project, wish to formally declare that I regard any and all technical information about how the Terminator Armor is assembled, programmed, outfitted and used to be privileged information of Tiara Technologies, and as such will refuse to discuss such matters with Miss Rarity Belle or any member of her technical staff. Despite the current animosity between myself and Diamond Tiara, a promise like I made to her about the Project I still consider binding, unless and until something drastic happens to me and mine that can be directly attributed to any actions Tiara Technologies has taken to enforce my silence,” Wave dictated, making every effort to speak clearly and distinctly.
“While I, Rarity Belle, chairperson of Rare Innovations, bear witness to the statements made by Doctor Wave Rider about this topic and will honor them and his commitments. However, I reserve the right to compare and contrast my designs against what he has worked with, to see if any improvements can be made to my design,” Rarity said, also speaking clearly.
Wave handed the phone to his sister. “I am Sand Castle, sister of Doctor Wave Rider. I can attest that what Doctor Wave Rider has said, he has said in my hearing, and will bear witness to his words. As to the other end of this conversation, I cannot say, because the phone is not set for speaker mode.”
Wave took the phone back. “Now that the formalities have been observed, Miss Rarity, lets us get down to true business. Let me hear your job offer.” It took twenty minutes of haggling to get to a setting that was agreeable to both parties, Wave Rider having to raise his voice a few times to get Rarity to agree to a salary three-quarters what he was earning at Tiara Technologies, instead of the hundred fifty percent she had offered. He agreed to show up at Rare Innovations about midday the next day to take care of Human Resources before getting an initial run-through of the Wonderbolt Armor.
After hanging up, the siblings looked at each other. “Looks like vacation for me is over. Help me clean up here, and I’ll order out for dinner tonight,” Wave said.
“Saves me from cooking, big brother. I’m not saying your cooking is bad, but what you like is not what I like, in most cases,” she said back with a smile.
“Understood, little sister. First step is to clean up. Let’s put the walking frame away, then put away tools.”
Promptly at ten the next morning, Wave Rider rolled in to Rare Innovations, where he was met by Rarity’s business partner, Silver Spoon, before being escorted to HR. The paperwork involved in hiring on took over two hours to do, after which he was escorted to the break room and shown how to use the machines there for lunch. Post-lunch, Wave was brought up to meet both Rarity and her head of R&D, Doctor Twilight Sparkle. The two scientists hit it off famously, each knowing of the other by reputation only. Twilight brought Wave Rider to the labs, where he was shown the Wonderbolt armor.
After looking it over, Wave Rider sighed. “Twilight, I have to confess something. I would like nothing better than to make something like this for myself. Not to be taken into any combat with meta criminals, but simply to be able to walk again. I have several ideas in mind, but no means to build them on my own. Getting shot at revealed some vulnerabilities. If I didn’t get lucky, I would have got dead.”
“That’s one thing I have been wondering about since I read about your shooting. Just how did you avoid getting riddled with bullets?” Twilight asked in honest curiosity.
Wave just shrugged. Without looking at Twilight, he just muttered, “Pure… fricking magic, more than likely. I’m just not certain.” He shivered some in his wheelchair, remembering the incident, the muzzle flash slowly creeping his way. “How the shooter missed me, I do not know. I do know the windshield was peppered with shots.”
Twilight took his hand in hers as a stray tear or two leaked from his eyes. To her surprise, instead of warm skin, she felt something cold, hard and slick. She looked but could not see anything. A few seconds later, the cold slick feeling faded, bringing back warm skin. “Are you all right, Doctor Rider?”
Wave sniffed some before pulling a hankie from his pocket and blowing his nose. “I have these flashbacks every so often, mainly at night. I think I have had a good night’s sleep maybe three times in the past six weeks,” he confessed. “Drives me to late night drinking, it does, just to shut off the nightmares.”
“You really should get some therapy. Crawling into a bottle solves nothing in the long run. Now, what did I feel just now?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” Wave asked innocently.
“When I took your hand, it was cold, hard and slick. It faded rapidly. Don’t tell me it was just terror that did it,” she said, looking at Wave in sympathy and curiosity, nothing more.
Wave Rider honestly looked confused before he paled, realizing what had just happened. “Oh. That. It’s something that showed up at the shooting, and I do not know much about it. No reference books to look up,” he said quietly.
“Is this why you didn’t get shot?”
“I would have to say yes. From my figures, five of the shots would have gone through me. With the shield up, not much can penetrate it. It does have its limits, though,” he told her before outlining what he knew. “I didn’t realize it comes on when I’m having a flashback.”
“Something to look into, but later. Right now, let’s give you a detailed look at the Wonderbolt armor. Maybe you can see some flaws that will need correcting,” Twilight said gently. “It should help you get your mind off your troubles.”
“Thank you for the offer, Doctor Sparkle,” Wave said, looking up at Twilight before guiding his chair to a terminal. For the rest of that day, the two made observations and compared notes on the Wonderbolt armor. To his credit, not once did he mention the TTTA armor during the session, just getting a thorough walk-through of the armor’s control and weapons systems. To Wave, a promise made is supposed to be kept, even though it was given to someone totally unworthy of it.
That evening, Wave had his sister pick him up, because his mind was busy working on what he learned and did not think it would be safe for him to drive. On the way home, Sand asked him, “So how did it go?”
“I can have respect for the people here at Rare Innovations, far more than anyone at Tiara Tech, except maybe for Moondancer,” Wave told her. “Far less violent in their plans, and they made me some subsidiary offers I should let you know about.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“Giving me a studio apartment in the building, one that they will equip to my standards, in case of having to work overtime. I like that idea. Doesn’t have to be much, when we are under crunch time,” Wave explained.
“I have heard lots of good things about Rare Innovations. Why did you not go there when they formed?” Sand asked as she drove.
“Because I was already making a good living at Tiara Tech, and I did not want to shift jobs in progress. Besides, you could not fault what I was making there.”
Sand nodded. “You have a point there. You know, you have not sold your TT stock shares yet. You have what, three hundred shares?”
“At fifteen hundred a share last I looked. It has been declining. Maybe I should sell. Thanks for the reminder, sis. I’d be so lost without you,” Wave said gently, reaching a hand out for Sand, who took his and squeezed gently.
“We’ve never argued, and we’ve looked out for each other for as long as I can remember, big brother. You’re low maintenance. Besides, you have a lot on your mind.
“Where do you want to stop for dinner?” Sand asked.
“I’ll leave that choice up to you. I’ll pay.”
Wave Rider settled in to his job at Rare Innovations, getting to know the Wonderbolt armor inside and out. In his mind, he found the Wonderbolt armor superior than the Terminator armor, it being lighter, more flexible, and the weaponry is decidedly non-lethal. It CAN be boosted to lethality at the discretion of the user, but as a LAST resort, rather than a first. True to his word, he never said what was in the Terminator armor, but he did say what sort of damage it could do, without naming specifics. While not helping as much as naming the weapons, it did help in beefing up the armor some.
He also worked on another project, with Twilight Sparkle’s help. He worked on a much lighter suit, not for use as armor, but to get him to walk. That proved to be far harder than he expected. He may not weigh much, barely a hundred fifty pounds of lean meat on a six-foot-five frame, but finding something that could bear his weight AND help him walk proved elusive. Something that did not make him resemble a tottering zombie while walking, that is.
After a few weeks of part time labor at his mobility designs, he went to Twilight with a confession. Over dinner, he told her that he had run into a roadblock. “Right now, I can see two possible avenues on getting out of this wheelchair. One is to simply wear a set of armor, a full set. With some modifications to the legs, to give my body more support, I will be able to walk or fly with the help of the suit’s systems. The second would be essentially a reinforced pair of bib overalls, again with skintight legs, to give me support while I try to walk, with control circuits in the front pocket. The problem I see there is retaining enough flexibility in the suit to make it comfortable as well as effective. Do you have any ideas?” he asked his friend and boss.
Twilight thought about the question for a bit. While Wave Rider was being a big help with the Wonderbolt armor, he knew nothing about the Matterhorn suit, Spike, or Rarity’s involvement with the other metas in town. Unless and until such revelations were necessary, she would not bring Wave into the fold, nor the other two.
“I do have some ideas, Wave, but I’m going to have to do a bit of research first. I may be able to come up with something that will assist in your second idea. Can you give me a few days to research?” Twilight asked.
Wave smiled at her, his easy, relaxed, friendly smile. “Of course, Twilight. At least I can stop bashing my head against the wall on this for a while. I was getting tired of the squishing sound.”
Twilight laughed at Wave’s attempt at humor, which was his intent. “Funny, I don’t see any deformation.”
“I was using my force field as insulation, Twilight,” Wave responded in a dry voice, but the smile on his face and glint in his eye took any sting out of the words.
“You’re definitely no stodgy scientist, Wave. Just how do you do it?”
Wave grinned at the question. “Well, before my first accident, I was something of a minor celebrity. I was a top competitive surfer, and I found it easy to get along with people. After I wound up in the wheelchair, my sister refused to let me succumb to depression, so I make it a point to try to get along with everyone I meet and see if I can’t make them glad to be with me. In most cases, it works. Those it did not work on, well, I refuse to say anything ill about someone, especially if they richly deserve it.”
“I can understand what you mean, Wave,” Twilight told her new friend. “I also notice you do not gossip about your old job any. Did you not get along with anyone there?”
“I sure did, for the most part. There are a few I did not. I won’t mention those people. Most of the gossip was work-related, and I promised not to talk about the Terminator armor, which was my main line of work. Moondancer is a good lady. We got along. I did not go to many social occasions, for obvious reasons,” Wave said with a straight face. “Most people’s homes are not wheelchair-friendly.”
“Is that why you want to be able to walk again?”
“Part of the reason. Another part is that after the shooting, I could not get out of my van unaided, the van losing power to the holding clamps and lift. I’m just glad it did not catch fire,” Wave said. “Being helpless is a very frightening, humbling feeling.”
Twilight leaned across the table and took his hand in both of hers. “Believe me when I say that I know that feeling and understand you completely. After tonight, why don’t you take a few days off while I do some research, okay? I should have some ideas by the time you come back.”
Wave put his other hand over Twilight’s and squeezed gently. “That sounds like a good idea. I’m sure my sister would like a small trip out somewhere. Getting me out of the house as well can’t hurt, either.”
“You talk about your sister a lot. Maybe I can meet her someday.”
“I’ll see what I can arrange, after the time off. I know she would like to meet you. They were not big on socializing over at Tiara Tech. Too afraid of secrets leaking out,” Wave said, letting go of Twilight’s hands.
“While here, we recognize the magic in friendship. Now, head home and take some time off to clear your head. I’m sure we will make a lot of progress when you return,” Twilight said with a friendly look into Wave’s face.
Wave smiled back. “I’ll do just that, Twilight, IF you promise me you will do something similar while I’m out of the building. I don’t want YOU to suffer from burnout!”
“I’ll take that under advisement. Now, are you going to go on your own, or am I going to have to push your wheelchair myself?” she mock-glared at him.
“You and what army, Twilight?” Wave laughed, scooting his chair back. “I’m out of here! Oh, please let the cook know he or she did a fantastic job!”
“I will!” Twilight called after him as he headed for the elevator. When the doors closed, Twilight asked, “Spike, any ideas to give him some calming time?”
Spike appeared on a monitor. “I think I can come up with something, Twilight! Just give me a few seconds!”
On his way home, Wave called Sand and let her know what his boss had told him. “I have some ideas already, big bro! I’ll give you a full report when you get home!” she squealed in excitement before hanging up.
“Well, I made her happy,” he thought. “That’s what is important to me.”
At home, Sand told Wave she had booked four days at something they had both expressed interest in, a rock and roll fantasy camp. What the best thing about it was is that on the fourth day, the class would get a chance to perform, on a stage, with none other than Rainbow Dash herself. “Sand, how did you manage to pull this off?” Wave gasped in surprise.
Sand just leaned against the kitchen counter and grinned. “You have contacts, I have contacts. I just used some of mine to get this, is all.”
“When does it start?” Wave asked.
“Thursday,” Sand told him.
“But, it’s Tuesday! I’ll never be ready in time!” Wave said anxiously, pulling at a lock of his shoulder-length hair.
“Chill, bro! You got all day tomorrow to get reacquainted with your keytar. I have to practice on my guitar as well. I got the rest of the week off from work to look after you, so, tomorrow, it will be you and me jamming, to get back into synch. Think we can pull it off?” Sand challenged her big brother. Fortunately for Wave’s mental state, he was up to the challenge.
The four days at the rock and roll camp was just the tonic Wave Rider needed to settle his mind after the frustrations at work. Meeting Rainbow Dash that Sunday, and getting a chance to tape some songs with her, by himself, with Sand Castle, and with the four other campers, was a true highlight to him.
After the taping, the six and Rainbow shared a buffet, just talking. “Wave, you and Sand sound almost perfect together. With about a year’s worth of tutelage, I think you will be good enough to record,” Rainbow Dash told the brother and sister duo, the other four campers agreeing.
“That’s good of you to say so, Rainbow Dash,” Sand told the music star. “But we have our own lives to lead. I work for the city’s Building Department as an inspector, and my big brother is a roboticist at Diamond Labs.”
“Ever since my back got broken at the Canterlot Catastrophe, music has been a way for me to forget I’m stuck in a wheelchair and remember my life from before. I miss surfing, beach parties and walking,” Wave Rider told the group.
Dash reached for Wave’s hand, and he took it. She gave him a firm grip. “I know how that goes, Wave. I lost my sight there, and I lost friends as well. Music helps me gain the strength to keep going, to not let my blindness hold me back. Keep pressing forward, knowing you have my support and that of the others here. Think you can be awesome?” she asked, smiling down at Wave.
“I can do the best I can, Dash, even though I can never hope to be nearly as awesome as you. Tomorrow, it’s back to work. Today, though, has been a truly awesome experience. How can I thank you?” Wave asked in return.
Rainbow Dash let out a small laugh and a big smile. “That’s easy. Just be awesome. Wave, Sand, the rest of you, just go out and be totally awesome. That’s the best way to thank me.”
The campers all cheered the statement, all pledging to be awesome. After a round of picture taking, autograph giving, and a hug fest, the campers and star headed for their respective homes. As they drove, Wave said to his sister, “Thanks, Sand. Thanks for a truly awesome experience. Just how did you manage to get passes to the camp at such short notice?”
Sand shrugged as Wave drove. “Just lucky, I guess. Right before you called, I got an email advertising it, and I jumped on it after you hung up. I’m so glad it worked out.”
“Me, too.”
Monday morning, Wave Rider showed up at work feeling very much refreshed, optimistic, and ready to tackle his problems head on. He was met by Twilight at the lab door. “Wave, I have some ideas for you, but I must get a promise from you,” she said after greetings.
“What sort of promise, Twilight?” Wave asked.
“What I am about to show you is not to be discussed with anyone unless and until I personally give you permission to do so. Is that understood?” Twilight said in severe tones.
Wave is, and has always been, very quick on the uptake. “I do so promise, Doctor Sparkle. If silence you want, silence you shall have,” he declared solemnly.
“Follow me, please,” Twilight stated. She led Wave into a section of the lab that he had never been to before, having been told earlier that he was not cleared for it. Her walk led to something like a tube that was open at the top, with some sort of trapeze bar hanging from the ceiling above it, attached to a track and winch in the ceiling.
“This is one of my high-end fabricators, used in some projects you are not cleared for. However, I have reprogrammed it to be able to make a walking suit for you. Thing is, I do not have your exact dimensions, so in order for me to make you a walking suit, you are going to have to be set into it, holding on to that bar while it builds a suit around you, tailored to your specifications,” she explained.
“This is not the same fabricator you are using for the Wonderbolt armor, is it?” Wave asked.
Twilight shook her head. “No, this is the next upgrade. You’ve seen the Wonderbolt fabricators. Would you be willing to try and see if my programming is proper?”
“Only if you share the walking suit specifications with me. I just might learn something, Doctor Sparkle,” Wave said with admiration in his voice.
“It’s going to take a couple of hours to fabricate the walking suit the first time. Think you can hang around that long? I tell you about the specifications, you tell me about your holiday. Deal?”
“You got a deal!” Wave said, grinning from ear to ear.
Twilight coughed, her lavender skin blushing a little. “Er, you’re going to have to undress first. This suit underlayer has to be form-fitting, so…”
Wave started unbuttoning his suit jacket. “I will bear any indignity to walk again, Twilight. Bare skin does not bother me. I keep myself fit.”
“I noticed. Let me know when you are ready, and I will lower the bar for you.”
“I hope I don’t raise mine inadvertently, Twilight,” Wave said as he undressed, Twilight keeping her back turned. After a couple of minutes, he declared, “I’m ready!”
Twilight made a few gestures, and the crossbar lowered, moving to where Wave could grasp it. Once he got a firm grip, he was raised up before getting loaded into the fabrication tube. Twilight started the process.
Wave shivered some. “That feels so odd…” he said.
“That’s the initial scan, measuring your body to ensure a proper fit. Assembly will start in a few minutes. The suit will go from your feet all the way to your shoulders. The programming pack will be at the small of your back, and electrodes will be all through the suit underlayer, to tell your leg muscles what to do, so you can stand, sit, walk and run like you did before your injury. The controller has an initial set of programming instructions, but it will adapt to you within a short time,” Twilight explained as the machine did its work.
For the next two hours, Twilight explained about the suit construction, and Wave told about his weekend at rock camp as the suit was assembled around him. When the tube signaled completion, he was raised out of the tube and placed in his wheelchair. The walking suit was a dull gray in color, rather sheer in appearance as well, and glittering slightly in the light.
“Now, the suit is powered by your own body’s myoelectricity. You should feel the small lump of the controller unit at your back. The programming can be linked to other suits, so you won’t have to go through the setting up process with replacements. It has a Velcro fly and drop seat, so you can use the facilities without taking it off. Any questions?” Twilight asked.
“Three, actually. One, is it machine washable; two, when do we start; and three, how do I put it on and take it off?” Wave asked, looking himself over closely.
“One, yes, but let it drip dry, no tumble drying. Two, whenever you are ready. Three, just like a body stocking. So, see if you can stand up.” Twilight told him.
Wave locked the wheels, slid the foot rests aside, and put his feet on the floor, using his hands to do so. That was when he noticed the suit had feet on it. “Well, I have little reason now to worry about socks,” he observed as he put his hands on the arms and pushed himself up.
He did not feel anything below the waist, but he could see his legs straighten as he pushed up. Twilight moved over next to him, and he let go of the arms of the wheelchair. “It’s working…” he whispered in disbelief.
“Use me as a support, and we’ll see if you can walk around the room. Slow walk.” Twilight directed. He thought ‘walk’, and slowly his legs started moving. Using Twilight as a support, he slowly paced around the room, turning left and right, stopping, walking backwards, sidestepping, and so on.
“It’s working… it’s really working…” he whispered over and over as he stepped about. After a few minutes, he was guided back to the wheelchair, where he settled into it with an audible thump. “Wow…”
“You said it, Wave! Now, just rest for a while. You can’t feel your legs, but walking does take energy. Your muscles are being stimulated to enable you to move them. Later today, I’ll take you to the building physical therapy area. There, your workouts will really begin!”
“Twilight, how can I ever thank you?” Wave said, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Easily. As Rainbow Dash told you, ‘Be Awesome’!”
Testing revealed some flaws in the suit, the first being it was extremely delicate. When he fell one time, the material tore, thus disrupting the fine wire electrode mesh that the suit depended on. Another flaw was that prolonged use made his abdominal muscles very sore. A revision to the manufacturing process made the material tougher, but it was still only as strong as ordinary cotton. Attempts to use a Kevlar weave resulted in malfunctions, because the electrodes could not reach Wave’s skin to send the impulses to his leg muscles. Days of practice with the suit made it so that Wave did not resemble a stumbling oaf while walking, but his mobility was still limited. He didn’t care, he had a goal in sight. Of course, he plunged into his work with Doctor Sparkle with renewed zeal and gusto. A side effect of using his walking suit was that it also trained him how to move in the Wonderbolt armor, which improved their testing of the armor, because now he could wear it, use it, and give accurate feedback.
Author's Note
Wave Rider will be appearing in an upcoming chapter of Equestrian City (https://www.fimfiction.net/story/352582/equestrian-city), so stay tuned!
Next chapter, the three metas finally meet, and start figuring out how to get along both with their abilities and with each other. Can Equestrian City stand the strain?
Until next week! ...as Desmond goes to say more, he spots something offstage, then departs, making Splitsecond look like an arthritic snail!

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                07- Over in a (Split)Second                
//-------------------------------------------------------//
07- Over in a (Split)Second
Rip Current sat forlornly in his studio apartment in the Rare Innovations tower. He was there in an attempt to get his weight down and his appetite under control. Yes, he had his comforts there, mainly his high-end home computer system, full cable and internet access, and enough clothing to last a few days, along with a washer and dryer. The problem with him is that appetite suppressants just would not work, and he could not find enough self-control to regulate his eating. When his weight climbed past three hundred forty pounds, he asked for help. He was provided with the apartment, an exercise program, a fitness trainer, and greatly restricted access to food. So far, he has not added any more weight, but he has come to live with sore muscles and chronic fatigue. He lost a pound after the first week. Just a pound. At least he didn’t have much of a commute to work and back. The constant hunger wore down his spirits, though.
This Saturday morning, Rip was awaiting breakfast, such as it was. Two eggs, grapefruit, bacon, two slices of unbuttered whole wheat toast, and coffee. When the knock came, Rip sprang up to answer it.
A youngish fellow was there, bronze skin tone, coppery-orange colored hair that came down almost to his shoulders, sitting in a wheelchair with a tray on it that held two covered dishes, wearing a track suit. “You’re Rip Current, yes?” the fellow asked, looking at Rip’s portly green frame.
“That’s me. Can’t say I have met you before. You got my breakfast there?” Rip asked.
“Yours and mine, Rip. I’m Wave Rider, Twilight’s aide on certain projects. I’m also your training partner while you do your workouts today,” Wave said as he moved his wheelchair into Rip’s room.
“Please pardon me for asking, but what sort of workout can you do, sir?” Rip asked as Wave gave him one of the covered dishes.
“While you are working out, I will be practicing standing and walking, Mister Current,” Wave said as he uncovered his own plate, which held scrambled eggs, bacon and mixed fruit.
“Please pardon my skepticism, Mister Rider, but how?” Rip asked before taking a bite of his breakfast.
“The how is due to a custom suit I am wearing under my sweats, Mister Current. My back was broken in the Canterlot High disaster, and I have been paralyzed ever since. However, with this suit on, the circuitry can detect the signals going down my spine, bypass the break, and enable me to use my legs again,” Wave explained. “I had an idea how to do it, due to my doctorate in robotics, but Doctor Sparkle was able to use her fabricators to build this suit. I need to make up for ten years in this chair.”
“You look like you are in good shape, Doctor Rider,” Rip managed to say, forcing himself not to wolf down his breakfast because there was a guest present.
Wave smiled. “That’s because I am. I was a competitive surfer when I was in high school and college, up until my back was broken. It was easy for me to stay this way, at least for my upper body. My lower body just would not respond. External massage and flexion can only go so far. The one thing I’m grateful for is that I cannot feel anything in my legs. The pain is in my abdominal muscles, if I work too long and hard.”
“Competitive surfer… Wave Rider… the Pan-Commonwealth surfing championships! You took first place not only in your age group, but overall! I remember watching that on Weekend Sports Cavalcade! You had a surfboard the color of your hair, with a double black stripe and fin!” Rip exclaimed. “I was in B double-E school at the time!” At Wave’s confused look, he went on. “Basic Electricity and Electronics school. Navy.”
“I see. Nice to know someone remembered. What do you do here?” Wave asked with a smile.
“I.T. and office programming here for Rare Innovations. Did my Navy time, got out, went to a more up-to-date school, graduated and got a job with Silver Innovations, coming here when it became Rare Innovations. I’m fairly senior here.”
“With one heck of a problem. I asked Doctor Sparkle for an explanation, and she said to ask you. She said to use the words ‘carte blanche’,” Wave said, his face showing curiosity.
Rip looked startled. Doctor Sparkle had told him, and Blaise Arrow, that those code words signaled that the speaker can be trusted with their secret, that they were metas. “Yes, well…” he started, a flush spreading up his green face. “I’m a meta with a problem. Yes, I have a meta talent, but it’s done something to me, and now my appetite is completely out of control! I’m constantly hungry, and only being here, under a very strict diet and workout regimen, is keeping me from gaining more than the sixty-five pounds I’ve put on since this started!” he finished almost with a desperate wail.
Wave reached up and took Rip’s hand. “Easy there. I’m here to help,” he said soothingly.
“Thanks. I have a friend who has been trying to help me, but while I know he is doing his best to help me, thanks to his condition, after a while, his help frustrates me to the point where I want to slap some sense into him! Problem is, when I do, he beats the sense out of me,” Rip said.
“Now, why would he do that?”
“Blaise is a veteran of the Eastern army, and he’s always kept himself in excellent condition. Problem with him is that he took some sort of blast to the head,” Rip told Wave, showing where, “and now, his face is an expressionless mask, has a mass of scars back here, and is about as emotional as two short planks. He always apologizes, but AFTER he throws me across the gym.”
“Ouch. You ready to go work out?”
Rip sighed. “Yeah. Just let me put a shirt on.” After doing so, he led Wave to the exercise room he was assigned, and they went through what to Rip was a grueling two-hour workout. Wave took it all in stride, but even he showed signs of wear after. Rip needed to lean on the wheelchair all the way back to his room.
That was the start of what developed into a friendship between the fat man and the surfer. Blaise joined the group once he got back from additional technical training. They learned about each other and their meta talents. Wave found his force field would repel any of Blaise’s arrows, Rip found he could not sense Wave’s control circuitry unless he was literally touching Wave, and Wave found Blaise a good workout partner.
They were together when Rip finally got a diagnosis of his problem. After several detailed brain scans, a series of small lesions were found that disrupted his appetite control centers as well as his metabolism, which meant that not only would he put on weight very fast, shedding the pounds was very difficult. Surgery for the lesions was deemed too risky, so Rip submitted to another form of surgery- bariatric surgery combined with liposuction. He was a miserable fellow for some time, but he was able to resume a more normal life afterwards, so long as he knew to stop eating at a certain point. He did, with the help of a little hypnosis that magnified the pain he would feel if he ate too much for his tiny stomach. His idea, actually.
After that, the workouts became more bearable for Rip. Not pleasant, but bearable. Wave was an enthusiastic supporter, while he knew he had Blaise’s support.
The three men found their commonalities formed a bond with each other, despite their obvious differences. Blaise, despite having the most experience, declined the leadership of the small group. Rip was not the leader type, having all sorts of confidence issues. He followed Blaise thanks to the trust of a long friendship and the simple fact that he could not give a damn about how Blaise looked and sounded. Rip gladly accepted his lumps whenever his temper snapped, and he tried to fight Blaise.
Wave found himself the default leader of the group, despite being the youngest of the three. His good looks and inner self-confidence turned into a natural charisma that has been supporting him, and the other two men responded to it. Wave’s first command as default leader was refusing the two men privacy on weekends, insisting on some sort of group event one day of each weekend away from work, to get to know each other. Picnics at Wave’s house, trips to whatever sporting event was going on nearby, going to the beach or even enjoying the sunshine in the park was Wave’s goal, and the other two soon found they enjoyed it, or in Blaise’s case, as much as it could be said he enjoyed anything.
“Think of this would not I have done, Wave,” Blaise said one day at the beach, after a vigorous swim in the surf. Wave’s walking suit could stand getting wet with no real problem, it was getting it snagged on something he had to worry about.
“I’m just glad this Mark Four version will allow me to swim again. I’ve always enjoyed the water, and I’m sure I’m building strength in my legs. The muscles are getting definition again,” Wave said from where he sat on the sand, under an umbrella. Rip Current was sound asleep under another umbrella, the vigorous exercise he got swimming having tired him out.
“Out in public being, discomfort I see it bring to others. Not like making civilians uncomfortable looking at me,” Blaise explained in his monotone.
Wave turned to look at Blaise, directly at his scarred head. “If they can’t take it, they are not worth knowing. Rip does not care about your looks, while I know the meaning of what they represent. I’m honored to call you my friend, Blaise. Looks or no looks, you are a good person to know,” he said with all sincerity.
Blaise reached out and took Wave’s hand. “For your words, I give you my thanks, Doctor Rider. Put into words you do feelings I know Rip has for me. Express it well he never could. Lessons in eloquence you should give him maybe?”
Wave squeezed Blaise’s hand companionably. “Think he will listen if I tried?”
Blaise shook his head a little. “Nein.”
The trio were about three blocks from Blaise’s apartment when the van was hit from behind while at a red light. The impact was not very hard, but it was noticeable. Wave put the van in park and rolled down his window to look outside when he found the muzzle of a gun shoved in his face. “Everyone out! Now! Now! Now!” someone shouted in Wave’s ear. At the same time, someone pounded on the window next to Rip, and someone else was at the side door, trying to open it.
“Plan Theta!” Wave shouted to the others as he took a deep breath, raised his shield, and jammed his little finger down the barrel of the gun. Rip looked at what was pounding on the window. He extended his electrical sense and found the watch the thug at his window was wearing. Almost instinctively, he reversed the polarity of the power flow in the watch, causing the battery to detonate. Since that watch battery was a lithium-ion, it burned hot and fast. Blaise called up his crossbow, reached over to the side door, and opened it, catching the person on the other side by surprise.
Wave’s opponent, caught off guard by Wave sticking his finger down the barrel, almost dropped the pistol. In doing so, he pulled the trigger. The gun went off, but the bullet did not exit the barrel. Instead, the pressure generated blew out the back, blasting hot sparks and gases into the goon’s face. Wave winced at the feeling of the bullet hitting his fingertip. It HURT!
Rip lowered his window a little as the thug’s watch caught fire on her wrist. She let out a high-pitched scream as skin, tendon and bone burned. “Did somebody knock?” he said innocently as the thug fled screaming into the night, trying to get the burning lump of molten plastic and glass off her.
Blaise, for his part, did not say a word as he looked at the wannabe carjacker, who had fallen when he slid the door back suddenly. Calmly, he shot the person with a stun bolt. He then exited, looking for the ‘lady’ with the burning wrist. Seeing her running, he fired another stun bolt, tracking it all the way in to impact. He then started scouting around, seeing the car that had rammed them, a rather beat-up used sedan.
Wave opened his door and looked down at the goon who had shoved the gun in his face. He was moaning in pain, having dropped the now-useless gun, his hands over his eyes. The hand that was holding the gun had some obviously dislocated fingers. “Playing with guns is not smart, kid,” he said.
Everyone heard the car who hit them rev up and try to back away, but suddenly, the windows in the car shattered and the motor stopped running. A young woman appeared, holding someone dressed in black who was driving. The woman had pink hair and was wearing a silver colored one-piece outfit with yellow lightning bolts. “I’ve been tracking you four all the way across town! No more running!” she said as she knocked the driver out with some rapid slaps. She then gathered up the others and lined them up on the side of the road, tying them up firmly with something the others couldn’t see quite right.
The woman, whom everyone had recognized as SplitSecond, then zipped up to Wave’s door. “What? They tried to carjack a wheelchair van? I didn’t expect them to be THAT stupid!”
“Apparently, they were that stupid. I didn’t even hear them before they hit us. How bad is it back there?” Wave asked.
“Bumper’s got a crumple, but you’re able to drive. Their car won’t. Your trailer hitch went into their radiator,” SplitSecond told him as Blaise got back into the van and closed the door.
Rip and SplitSecond made eye contact with each other. A flash of recognition went between them. “I know you!” they said at the same time. “The Total Wasteland Forum!”
“Total Wasteland?” Wave asked.
“I’ve got every episode recorded!” Rip exclaimed, his inner fanboy coming out in the presence of another fan.
“I do too!” SplitSecond squealed. “I’ll see you on the Forum later, okay? I got to let the police know about these thieves before they wake up! You wait here for them, okay? Gotta go!” She then vanished in a blur.
“By in her presence being, fatigue follow fast,” Blaise intoned.
Wade turned to look at Rip. “You sure you know her?” he asked.
“Well, I know I have seen her in one of the video chat rooms. She knows me, too. Not my real name, though, by my handle,” Rip explained.
“We’ll discuss it later. Blaise, check for damage to the van. Rip, check the thieves and make sure they are tied. I’ll call the police,” Wave directed.
“On it.”
“Ja, mein herr.”
It took almost two hours before the police finished interviewing them and let them go on their way. Blaise invited them inside. “Drink I need after that. Anyone else want?” he asked in his own way.
Rip nodded. “I would, but if I do now, I may go over limits,” he said to his friend.
Wave chipped in with “I’m driving, Blaise. I’ll wait till I get home before I have a shot. Thank you for the offer, though.”
“Offering friends drinks after that incident is right thing to do. Declining offer all right, too. Accept reason I do. Monday morning see you at work, ja?” Blaise droned.
“Ja. Have a good Sunday, Blaise!” Wave called out in Blaise’s native language before pulling out.
“I didn’t know you spoke Eastern, Wave,” Rip observed as they pulled out of Blaise’s complex.
“I do, but not very well. I have been taking lessons, just to make him feel more comfortable around me,” Wave explained. “Why don’t you try?”
Rip sighed. “I’ve known Blaise since we were working at Silver Innovations. I can speak a little of it, but I understand more. He says I have too much of a Commonwealth accent when I try,” he explained.
“I hope I don’t have one. If I do, I’m going to ask for a refund on my language lessons,” Wave snorted as he pulled out onto the street, heading for Rip’s apartment. “You say you know SplitSecond?”
“Well, I obviously didn’t know she was SplitSecond until after I met her,” Rip said drily. “But her hair and voice are dead giveaways.”
“Going to mention this in the Forum?”
“Hell, no! I’m not that stupid!” Rip snapped. “I’ll use a PM for that!”
After about a mile, Rip spoke up again. “SplitSecond is a good lady, but I have to admit, I really admire Shadowstrike.”
“Shadowstrike? How did you meet her?” Wave asked as he pulled in to Rip’s complex. Rip explained in a few sentences as they neared his home. “Lucky you, then. I still say the music camp with Rainbow Dash was better.”
“We’ll do more comparisons Monday at lunch, okay? Right now, I need sleep.”
“Monday at lunch, see you then, Rip.”
“Later, Wave.” Rip said as he got out, closing the van door as he fumbled for his house keys.
Author's Note
Okay, first contact with thugs went over well. Remember, you don't send first-level characters against overbosses at the start of the story!
Okay, that makes five of the Mane Seven encountered, either in hero ID or private ID, (in the case of Rainbow Dash, both). Two more to go before they all meet each other, but only Twilight knows... the REST of the story!
as the announcer is nailed in the face with a two-foot wide lemon meringue pie
Chill it, Paul Harvey, and stick to the script!

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               08- Of Apples and Electricity               
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08- Of Apples and Electricity
One Saturday, Wave and Sand decided to go on an outing to Sweet Apple Acres. The main reason for going was ostensibly to pick apples on the open to the public day, but Wave wanted to test his walking suit and shoes in a real-world environment that did not involve sand or a smooth floor. Walking in an apple orchard seemed to be a good test, in their minds. If Wave could manage to go the entire afternoon without falling more than twice, Sand would bake him an apple pie like their mother made, all for him. If he did fall more often, he was to fix her apple fritters for breakfast for a week. Wager made, they headed out. Rip and Blaise did not attend, Rip having to go to the hospital for tests after surgery, Blaise going to give him moral support.
At the farm, Wave and Sand explained what they wanted to do to both the farm manager, Applejack, and her sister Apple Bloom. They were given permission to do their testing, but Applejack insisted they sign a waiver absolving Sweet Apple Acres of any responsibility in case of ‘unfortunate circumstances’. Wave and Sand signed without hesitation. “After all, we do enjoy your apples, both here and back when we were in Canterlot,” Sand explained.
Applejack let out a big smile at those words. “Well, ah’m glad to hear those words, Sand Castle! Now, ah suggest y’all go to a far patch to pick apples, okay? That will give you privacy to try your suit without anyone commenting on your activities. Apple Bloom, take them there, please,” she directed.
“Sure thing, big sis! This way!” Apple Bloom led Wave and Sand to the back of the orchard, Wave in his wheelchair, which easily handled the rough ground. She led them to a grove where the apple trees stood a little shorter than the rest of the orchard, but still were high enough to give Wave a stretch picking them. “Now, ah’ll come back in an hour to check on you, okay?”
“Sounds good, Apple Bloom!” Sand said as Wave locked the wheels of his chair, moved the foot rests aside and stood up. Using tree branches for balance, Wave had little difficulty, but walking between trees did take attention. He used up his two free falls within ten minutes.
“One more and you’re cooking, brother!” Sand said with a smile as she watched Wave get back up.
“Got that right, sister,” Wave said, dusting off his hands and pants. “These boots are not giving me as much tactile feedback as lighter shoes do, and my balance is shot here on rough ground.”
“Well, we are here to practice, right? Come on, we have apples to pick!” Sand said as she selected another tree to pluck from.
“You got it, Sand.”
Together, they picked apples for another half hour, filling the basket they had brought along. For convenience, they had placed it on Wave’s chair. They were thinking about heading back to the main entrance when Sand spotted a tree with different colored apples on it, set off to the side. “I’m going to grab some of those, Wave,” she said as she sprinted over.
“Okay! Be careful!” Wave called back.
At the tree, Wave plucked four of the big greenish-yellow apples before heading back. Careful not to drop them, she did not watch where she was stepping and slipped in a puddle, falling hard against an electrical outlet box on the ground. There was a loud snap, a bright flash, and Sand Castle convulsed once, hard enough to shake free of the outlet before lying still.
“SAND!” Wave shouted as he made his best possible speed to where she lay, tripping twice and falling on the way there. He found her unconscious but unhurt, as far as he could tell. He tried to pick her up, but while he could move himself, lifting more than ten kilos or so was difficult. He settled on dragging her clear of the spot.
His bellow did attract attention, Applejack and two farm hands getting there before he got her back to the chair. “Now, what in tarnation happen heah?” Applejack demanded. Wave explained as the farm hands checked Sand over. She then sighed. “Ah thought we fixed that theah outlet box two days ago.”
“I saw the paperwork, AJ,” one of the farm hands said. “It was reported as fixed.”
“Looks lahk it wasn’t fixed raht,” Applejack grumbled as Sand opened her eyes, looking around some in confusion. “What happened?” she asked.
“You slipped in a puddle and fell into the outlet box, getting shocked. How do you feel?” Wave asked, taking her hand in his.
“A little blurred, but it’s fading fast. My feet feel cold,” she reported.
Everyone looked at her feet. The soles of both shoes had holes burned through them, at the heels. The skin they could see was red, but nothing more. “No wonder. Your shoes burned through,” one of the farmhands said.
“They don’t feel burned, just cold. I think I should go to the hospital to get this checked out. Want to take me there, Wave? No need to have the farm here go to the expense of calling an ambulance,” Sand suggested.
“Tell you what. Ah’ll carry you back to your car, and ah won’t charge you for the apples yuh picked. Sounds fair to you?” Applejack said, picking Sand up.
“Will you at least accept a five-buck tip?” Wave suggested as he slow-walked back to his wheelchair.
“Well, since yuh offered, ah can accept that.”
“Wow, you’re strong, Miss! I know I’m not the smallest tree in the orchard,” Sand said as Applejack picked her up. Her physique could be described as ‘well-padded’, but not fat. She followed Wave’s workout plans, too.
“Good clean farm living, all it is,” Applejack said as they came out of the orchard.
“I’m with the Equestrian City Building Inspector’s office. Keeps me busy, and I could not let my big brother get too far ahead of me!” Sand Castle laughed.
“Big brother?” Applejack said, taking a closer look at Wave Rider. “You went to Canterlot High, right?”
“We both did. We were at the Catastrophe, in the back. I graduated three years before, and Sand was a sophomore,” Wave explained.
Applejack snorted. “Thought the two of yuh looked familiar. Just could not place where.”
“You were playing bass guitar at the show, if I remember right,” Wave said as he unlocked the van, opening the side door.
“That ah did. Never did really stick with music, though. Runnin’ the farm was more important. Only Rainbow Dash stayed with it,” Applejack said as she put Sand down in the passenger seat.
“We met her at a rock and roll camp a few weeks ago,” Sand said. “She’s wonderful!”
“No, she’s awesome!” Wave added as he put the basket of apples in the van before getting back into the wheelchair and getting on the lift.
“Well, ah have to agree with that. Now, y’all promise to call me aftah you get her checked out, y’heah?” Applejack said to the two of them, waving a finger for emphasis.
“We promise!” the brother and sister chorused as Wave started the van.
Applejack reached into a pocket and pulled out a card, giving it to Wave. “Use this number. It’s mah direct line.”
Wave put the card in his shirt pocket, next to his phone. “Will do, Applejack! Now, we best get going!”
At the hospital, Sand was checked out and released within two hours, no obvious burns or damage being found. She still complained that her feet felt cold and was told to see her doctor the next day if symptoms persisted. The two went home, picking up a big pizza along the way. First thing they did was to call Applejack, leaving a message that all seems well, but would update as matters progressed. Then, Wave put the apples up as Sand had a slice of pizza.
“I don’t know about you, brother, but I’m feeling a bit tired after all that excitement. Once we’re done, I’m going to clean up and go to bed,” Sand told Wave at the table.
“No, sister,” Wave countered. “We finish, I clean up, and you go to bed. I’m going to spend a little time in the hot tub. All that walking about, and trying to carry you, strained my abs some.”
“I won’t argue,” Sand mumbled, finishing the slice, looking droopy.
“Now I know you’re not feeling yourself. Go to bed now, Sand. I’ll put the pie in the fridge and clean up. You nap. Or do I have to carry you?” Wave ordered. Sand did not reply, having fallen asleep right there at the table. He sighed, went to her, got her in his lap and brought her to the living room, letting her sprawl on the sofa. “Me through the hall, no problem. Her through the hall, no problem, me carry her sleeping form through hall while in wheelchair, big problem,” he muttered as he checked her over with what he knew of first aid. As far as he could tell, she was asleep.
Wave did as he said he would, cleaning up the dining room before going to soak in the hot tub, the hot swirling water soothing his aching muscles. He was getting nice and dozy himself when a scream tore through the house, a loud hoarse scream that trailed out breathlessly before resuming. Wave got himself out of the tub in record time, getting into his wheelchair wet and naked, heading for the living room as the screaming continued. He arrived to see Sand writhing on the couch some, sparks coming from her hair. “Sand! WAKE UP!” Wave bellowed. “I’m here!”
Sand stopped screaming as her eyes flew open, the sparks stopping. She stared at Wave, getting her breath back. “S..s..s..some…t.t.thing… hap..p..penned…” she stuttered.
“Easy, Sand. Catch your breath. Relax. Tell me what you think is happening,” Wave said in a soothing voice. He activated his force field before reaching out to her.
Sand took his hand in both of hers and breathed deep, getting her composure back. “Thanks, brother. That dream was scary,” she said in a shaky voice.
“What dream?” Wave asked.
“I dreamed that I became an electrical generator, able to power any device I’m touching and control it. I can also shock people too, by touch. Or burn out electrical gear. Or any of a lot of scary things!” Sand said as she wept a little, still frightened, grasping Wave’s hands like a drowning person holding on to a life preserver.
Wave leaned over in his wheelchair to hug Sand. “I don’t think it was a dream, Sand. When I got here, your hair was throwing sparks. Just get yourself calm and we’ll talk more, okay?”
Sand nodded, grasping Wave tightly, heedless of his being wet and naked. “O-o-o-okay…” she stammered before sitting upright enough to hug Wave without him threatening to fall on top of her. They stayed there, holding each other, for a few minutes before Sand began calming down, accepting her new reality. “If you can be a meta, I can be a meta.”
“All up to you what to do with it, like I do, like Rip does, like Blaise does. You don’t have to be a criminal. I’d rather you just be yourself. Now, can I dry off and dress before I drip where I shouldn’t?” Wave asked.
“You do that, brother. I’m going to sit here and think.”
When Wave returned, dried and dressed (okay, just a pair of shorts. At home, they were both casual about skin), he used the overhead straps to move himself from the chair to sit next to Sand. “I got you, you got me, we got each other, sister. Do we need anything more?” Wave said quietly.
“No, brother, no we don’t. I did find out one thing. Whatever it is I have, I have to ‘turn it on’ with mental effort, so you can turn your field off. It’s cold to the touch,” Sand said to him quietly.
Wave did so, and Sand clung to him for a while, letting her fright ebb. “Thank you for being you, Wave.”
“I can say the same, Sand.”
Once Sand calmed down, she got up and headed for the kitchen. “Where’s the rest of the pizza? In the fridge?” she called out.
“Yeah! Have at!” Wave called back. She did, pulling it out and gnawing on a slice, cold.
Wave, back in his wheelchair, rolled in to the dining room. “You hungry?” he asked. At her nod, he said, “Not unknown, especially when you use your talent. Energy has to come from somewhere, right?”
“Point made,” she mumbled around a mouthful. She swallowed, then asked Wave, “What should we do now?”
“Well, I know several people we should inform about what happened, namely Rip, Blaise and Doctor Sparkle. We should compare how your talent compares to Rip’s. We should also figure the extent of your talent, as in what CAN you do with it?” Wave advised.
Sand put the slice of pizza down, went to a cupboard that they kept tools in and pulled out an electric drill. Leaving the battery out, she quickly put in a big wood drill bit. Holding the drill, she made the drill operate. Pulling out a piece of scrap wood, she drilled a hole through it. “That’s interesting,” Wave commented. “Can you do that, say, with a flashlight?”
In response, Sand put the drill down, got a flashlight from a drawer, removed the battery and focused on it. The light came on, strong and steady. “Well, it works for DC power. Now for AC,” she said.
For that, she pulled a lamp down off a shelf and unplugged it. Just by holding the wire, she could power the lamp, having to use the switch to turn it on and off. “Yep, AC too.”
“Does that mean you swing both ways, sister?” Wave asked innocently before quickly ducking to avoid her backhand swing to his chops.
“I don’t do that, bro! Now, get your brain out of the gutter and think of what we can try next!” she snapped mock-angrily.
“Okay, sis.” Together, they went through many of the house appliances. She found that she could power anything she willed to power up, but touching the appliance is easier than trying to project. She powered everything from a dinky battery-powered night light all the way up to the kitchen stove. She still needed to use the controls on the device to operate it, though. Turned off is turned off, turned on is turned on. She could power a radio, but she could not use her power to change stations or volume. They did discover she had a time limit. After three hours of experimenting, she started ‘running down’, getting both tired and hungry. They stopped so she could demolish the rest of the pizza before she said she had a craving for lemons. Not having any, she drank half a bottle of lemon juice before she considered herself sated. “Running out of battery acid, sis?” Wave joked.
That was when they discovered she could project a low-power bolt that would act like a taser on someone. Wave also figured that the same shock would do a number on his walking suit. “Not nice, Wave…” Sand said quietly while Wave was twitching.
“Sorry…” he gasped when he could.
“Apology accepted, big brother. I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me,” she said before walking up the hall to her bedroom.
“I won’t,” he promised. He didn’t, but before going to bed he cleaned up again then did something he did not want to do just then but thought it would be worse for him if he waited until morning. He called Doctor Sparkle and dictated a brief report of the day’s events. Five minutes after hanging up, Twilight called him and started bombarding him with questions. He agreed to bring Sand Castle to the lab the next day, after noon.
At the lab, Twilight ran test after test on Sand Castle, trying to determine the extent of her power. By six, she had some conclusions and a lot of data to sift through. They did find that lemon juice, or eating a lemon or two, would give her a boost when she was tired. Twilight also found out that Sand Castle had a bit of a temper. When she pushed a little too hard, Sand tazed her. Twilight backed off on her testing. “I’ll give Wave some of my conclusions tomorrow. You report to work as normal, just don’t juice anything until we do some more studies,” she advised.
“Will do, Doctor Sparkle,” Sand Castle said. “Besides, after finding out that if I try to mess with a powered object, I will get a backfire, I’m not tempted to get too adventurous. I’m just glad that I can’t get shocked unless I DO try fiddling with a powered device!”
“You’re as smart as your brother, just in a different way. Go home and get some rest, both of you!” Twilight said, chasing the two out of her lab. When they were gone, she sat at her desk, calling up Spike and going over her findings.
“One problem I’ve spotted already, Twilight. Her blood chemistry has changed. The readings are a dead giveaway something has happened to her. Time to work out some protection for her,” Spike advised.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Author's Note
So, Wave's little sister has a meta talent, too. Different from his as well. Just what brings on a power to a person? Damned if I know.
We also get to meet Applejack as well. Let's see... Twilight, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Sunset Shimmer and now Applejack. Who's missing?
Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter of... the narrator suddenly dashes for cover as a spear goes through his microphone stand Just stick to the script, Desmond!

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                  09- Concerning Boredom                   
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09- Concerning Boredom
A week or so after Sand Castle got jolted at Sweet Apple Acres, she was at home with her brother and Doctor Twilight Sparkle, discussing their next course of action. “Even though this new talent is helping me at my job, I’m still extremely uncomfortable trying to use it at all. What should I do?” she asked between sips of coffee. An apple pie was on the table as well, or, it should be said, what started as an apple pie. Three slices remained.
Twilight had a piece of the pie. Not only did she find it delicious, she already has a pie reserved for her, to take back to the lab for later. “I really think you should take some time off and come to terms with your talent. Once you become comfortable with it, life will become easier for you,” she suggested.
“My talent is primarily non-visible, so nobody can suspect anything when I use it. Yours has visible manifestations, like Blaise’s arrows and shield. I know one way you can take some time off without too much question,” Wave Rider suggested from his place at the kitchen table, a half-eaten piece of pie in front of him. While he really enjoyed his mother’s recipe for apple pie, which Sand Castle had learned and perfected, he rather forcibly kept himself in check. He was slim, trim and racy, and intended to stay that way.
“How’s that, brother?” Sand asked after a piece of pie. While she never forced herself into a supermodel image, it still irked her a little that she and Wave weighed the same, despite the fact that Wave was five years older and eight inches taller than she is. She liked her padding. It felt right to her.
“Well, you are my designated caretaker in case I need one, right?” Wave countered. “You can take a three to six month leave of absence to look after me.”
Sand shook her head. “That’s unpaid, Wave. How are we going to make up the shortfall?” she asked. “While the house is paid for, taxes and expenses don’t stop.”
Wave and Twilight exchanged glances. “I know a way to handle that, Sand,” Twilight said. “Rarity offered Wave a salary that is twice what he is earning now, but he argued her down to what it is. A couple of words from Wave and myself will cover the shortfall.”
“You have to admit, a Ph.D. roboticist makes more than a grade two building inspector working for the city, yes?” Wave added, looking at his sister closely. “Even at what I’m making now. Double that will make our finances secure, even if you don’t go back to work for a while, right?”
Sand sighed before sipping some more coffee. “You do have a point, brother. Question is, what will I do with myself? I don’t like sitting around the house all day.”
“You can come down to Rare Innovations a couple of days a week, to test your talent out in different situations,” Twilight offered.
“That is a good start, but that still leaves me with a lot of free time.”
“We’ll come up with something, sister. Don’t let it get to you. I want you safe, secure, confident and happy,” Wave said, reaching across the table to take her hand in his and squeezing gently.
“I’ll also look into some other ideas in the meantime as well, Sand. Being bored is rather dull,” Twilight observed.
“Thank you, Doctor Sparkle,” Sand said as she squeezed her brother’s hand.
“Please, call me Twilight. We are friends, right?”
Sand Castle managed to get an indefinite leave of absence from work, to look after her brother some more while he undertook ‘experimental therapy’ in hopes of being able to walk again. Wave got his raise, so finances were handled. Twilight looked into getting Sand Castle a position at Rare Innovations, but there were not any openings that fit her skill set. Twice a week, Sand spent the day with Wave, practicing her talent under laboratory conditions, as well as working with Rip Current and Blaise Arrow to see how she could affect others with her electroshock. That still left her with plenty of time to brood with little to do. She did accompany ‘the boys’ on their weekend excursions most of the time, she got so accustomed to Blaise’s marred face and dull voice that she stopped noticing it, she did teach Rip Current how to cook small, flavorful meals that would satisfy his stapled and sleeved stomach, but, she felt bored. Blunted. Little to do.
Over dinner one night, Sand came to a decision. She asked Wave, “Brother, what would you think about us adopting a cat?”
“A cat? Why a cat?” Wave asked as he cut himself another piece of pot roast.
“A cat is low-maintenance, less destructive as a dog could be, and it will give me something to do when I’m sitting at home. Unless you LIKE me going out on shopping sprees,” she said to him, giving him an impish look.
“A cat seems like a good idea. Tomorrow, I have a day off, Twilight being booked to do a presentation on the Wonderbolt armor. How about we go cat shopping tomorrow? Know any pet shops we can go to?” Wave asked.
“My project for the evening. I’ll have a list in the morning.”
The search got off to a rocky start. By noon, they had gone to five pet shops, either finding they had no cats or the ones they had took a dislike to either Wave or Sand, the dislike shown with hisses, arched backs and swipes. They found themselves at a pet shop on the outskirts of town, hoping this one would end their quest.
When they went in, they were met by a young lady with pale yellow skin and pink hair that covered most of her face. “Can I help you?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Yes. We’re looking to adopt a cat, a young one. Do you have any here?” Sand asked, looking closely at the lady. She was sure she had seen her before but was not certain where.
“Yes, we have two kitties that can use a forever home. Would you like to meet them?” the lady asked.
“Yes, please. This is the sixth place we have been since morning, and either the shops had no cats, or the ones there did not like one of us,” Wave explained as he guided his wheelchair through the aisles, following the store clerk.
“Well, may you find your luck here,” the clerk said, escorting the two into what she called a ‘visiting room’. “Wait here and I will get the two.”
The clerk returned with two kitties, a white male with small black spots on his face, and a black female with small white spots all over her body. “These are Freckles and Starshine. They’re brother and sister, and don’t like being parted. Let’s see if they like you,” she said, putting the two on the floor.
Freckles scampered over to Sand, looked up at her, and meowed before starting to climb her leg. With a laugh, she picked up the white kitten and cuddled him. “Hi, Freckles!” she said to the kitty, who meowed back, jumped to her shoulder and gave her a cheekrub before licking her nose.
Starshine, in the meantime, marched right up to Wave’s wheelchair, sniffed at it, wiggled her butt, then jumped up over the foot rest to his left leg, which she scaled like an expert mountaineer going up a tricky slope.
“Good thing I can’t feel my legs, or else I may be hurting by now!” Wave laughed as Starshine achieved the lap before climbing Wave’s jacket. Wave caught her halfway up and cuddled the kitty, who balled up in his hands, radiating contentment. “Looks like you’re happy, Starshine!”
“I think we found our furry friends, brother,” Sand said as she petted Freckles.
“While I may not be the brightest bulb in the box, even I can see that, sister,” Wave agreed, putting Starshine in his lap and petting her gently. He then looked up at the clerk. “We’ll take them, along with all needed supplies.”
The clerk looked radiantly happy, smiling fondly at the two happy kittens. “I know you will be perfect pet parents. I have never seen such happy kittens leaving my store before. Mind if I take some pictures before I get a package ready?” she asked. Both of the customers agreed, and so a bunch of pictures were taken before the clerk made up a large box of litter, automatic litterbox, food, toys, bowls and other assorted kitty equipment, along with a large enough carrier for future growth.
“Excuse me, did you go to Canterlot High?” Sand asked as they paid for the goods.
“Why, yes I did. Did you?” the clerk asked in return.
“We both did. Wave graduated three years before the Catastrophe, while I was a sophomore that year,” Sand told her. “I’m Sand Castle, he’s Wave Rider.”
“I’m Fluttershy. Did you like the show?” she inquired of them.
“Up until everything went sideways, yes. That was where my back was broken,” Wave mentioned. “Details for another time. This is a happy time, so let it remain so.”
“Yes, let it be happy. Goodbye, Freckles! You too, Starshine!” Fluttershy said, sticking her fingers inside the wire mesh of the carrier door. Both kitties licked a finger before pulling back.
“Thank you, Fluttershy. With friends like these two, my days won’t be lonely!” Sand said, taking the box of supplies. Fluttershy took the carrier while Wave picked up the big litter jug. They got everything into the van, said goodbye once more and headed home.
As Fluttershy watched the van leave, she could hear a growl from within her mind. “Those two don’t look to be so tough. Why did you let them take the kittens?”
“Because the kittens chose them, and I recognized the man. He’s Wave Rider. He was a surfer when I was in school, and after. I remember a lot of the girls liking him.”
“Well, he’s not much now, stuck in that wheelchair. I can handle him with no problem.”
“Don’t be so sure, Andrea. I feel there is more to them than we think.”
“Yeah. She smells different, like acid and ozone.”
Author's Note
Okay, there's Fluttershy. So now the B-team has met the A-team, in piecemeal fashion. What will happen when the two groups meet, intact and aware?
Two little kitties at the house of Sand Castle and Wave Rider. How much mischief can result? How good is your imagination? Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter of...  the narrator is hit by a six-foot diameter powder puff and vanishes in a cloud of white as someone offstage hollers MAKEUP!
...why's everybody always picking on me?...

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               10- Wave's Birthday Surprise                
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10- Wave's Birthday Surprise
Sand Castle was at home, playing with the kittens while taking a break from her project, a taser she had bought. She had removed the taser battery and put in wires on the grip that would take the place of the battery, using her own electrical talent to power the device. She watched Freckles and Starshine doing some rough-and-tumble play on the floor, relaxing. Putting the wires in and gluing them in place made her hands and shoulders cramp. Kicking back relieved the tension that had built up.
Wave Rider’s birthday was coming up, and Sand Castle wanted to get her brother something special, something meaningful, something she would be sure he would like. She looked up at the living room wall, where Wave’s championship surfboard was mounted. An idea came to mind, putting foot braces on a surfboard so Wave could stand and ride the waves again, but she soon dismissed the idea. “He would have trouble getting on the board from the water, then standing up. Nice idea, but he’s just not good enough yet with his walking suit. What else can I do?” she asked herself.
About that time, Freckles and Starshine stopped their play and came up to Sand’s feet, musically mewing for attention. She picked them up and cuddled them, the happy mews changing to contented purrs. “Music. He loved the rock camp with Rainbow Dash. Maybe I can contact her and see if I can get the two together for an hour or so on his birthday? I got her email, website and phone number, so why not? If she says no, I’m no worse off than I am now,” she said, feeling the kittens purr against her legs. “Once these two go to sleep, I’ll check and see if she’s free that day.”
It took about ten minutes before Sand was able to get up and go to her computer. She sent off an email to Rainbow Dash, with her idea. After that, she sent emails to Rip Current, Blaise Arrow, and Twilight Sparkle asking if they would be free on Wave’s birthday (which fell on a Sunday that year) for a party. She insisted on using emails, so Wave would not know she was planning something. Knowing the three were at work, she did not expect a fast response.
To Sand Castle’s surprise, the first to respond was Rainbow Dash. She said in her email that not only would she be happy to appear, she had some suggestions, they being that Sand Castle should practice some, to join in with the music, and to call on a party planner friend of hers, someone named Pinkie Pie. When she saw the name, her memories flashed back to Canterlot High and some of the events that were held her freshman and sophomore years, the ones that Pinkie Pie had a hand in. Sending Rainbow Dash a thank-you reply, she called Pinkie Pie to set up the party. “I can be there in half an hour to check out the house, so I can tell what to plan for!” Pinkie squealed into the phone.
Before Pinkie arrived, Blaise responded to the email, saying that he would consider it an honor to attend the party, his written language skills being far better than his spoken skills. Sand Castle respected the scarred Eastern veteran, and accepted his apparent emotionlessness, feeling there was a softer side to him.
Pinkie Pie showed up right on time, gave Sand Castle a hug, saying she remembered her from Canterlot High, and insisted on catching up while checking the house over. She squeed happily over the kittens, who looked at Pinkie with confusion before scampering into the recesses of Wave’s recliner. Undaunted, Pinkie did her evaluation, made some suggestions, quoted the price and produced a contract, which Sand Castle agreed to and signed, feeling a bit numb. When Pinkie left, Sand collapsed on the sofa, Freckles and Starshine coming out of hiding and cuddling up to her. “She’s so exhausting to be around!” she panted, holding her purring buzz balls gently.
After getting positive responses from Rip Current and Twilight Sparkle, Sand sent out some more invitations, to people she knew were friends of Wave’s. On Twilight Sparkle’s suggestion, Sand sent an invitation to Rarity Belle, which was returned that evening, saying she would be delighted to attend.
One problem Sand faced was how to get Wave out of the house before the party, so Pinkie could set up. That took some brainstorming with Rip, Blaise and Twilight to arrange, accepting Blaise’s suggestion that they show up early to treat Wave to a men’s only celebratory birthday brunch, with Rip and Blaise paying for it. Both Sand and Rip were surprised Blaise would even suggest something like that, but Blaise just said, “Rip I let pick place for brunch. Need him out of house you do, this way not be suspicious. Wave need not to know suggestion be mine, ja? Besides, it is right thing to do to help you, Sand. You friend to me, like Wave is.”
Sand could only smile at Blaise’s words. “I knew there was something wonderful behind that face of yours, Blaise. Thank you very much. It’s an excellent idea!”
“I know just the place to take him,” Rip said. “It’s having him meet us there, then keeping him there long enough for the setup to occur before he heads home. Blaise, you are going to have to pick me up, so we can outrace him back to his house and be there for the surprise party.” They were having this discussion over lunch at Rare Innovations, Wave being purposely ‘held up’ by Twilight so the three could plan and plot unobserved.
“Can that I do, ja. Where plan you take him to?” Blaise asked.
“The Twisted Knicker, over on Seventy-Third and Hammerhead. I think we can keep him busy for a couple of hours there!” Rip said with a small laugh.
Sand joined in with the snicker, while Blaise remained impassive, as usual. “Good idea, Rip!”
On birthday Sunday, Wave had been out of the house for five minutes before Pinkie showed up to get the house set up for the rock and roll party. Sand was amazed that Pinkie could get the setup done so fast, and by herself. One thing Pinkie did was to take down the hanging straps Wave used to get around without his wheelchair in both the living room and dining room. “Can’t have these in the way! Too many people are gonna be here!” Pinkie said as she took the straps down, piling them in the spare bedroom.
“I just hope Wave won’t be too upset about it. You will put them back up after the party, right?” Sand asked.
“Sure! Part of the service! After the party, you won’t be able to tell we even held a party here!”
Guests started arriving an hour after setup, using a parking lot at the nearby strip mall and walking a tenth of a mile, to not give away anything by having cars in front. Sand managed to have a pleasant chat with Rarity before the party, having heard of her, but never truly meeting her before this. “Darling, I’m pleased to honor Wave Rider on his birthday this way! He’s been doing wonders for me on his projects. Plus, you doing all this for him shows what sort of a person you are,” she told Sand between sips of an exotic mixed drink Sand had made for her.
“You being here also shows what sort of a person you are, Miss Belle. It’s so good to meet a celebrity who is just like her image,” Sand said in reply, blushing a little at Rarity’s words.
Before Rarity could reply, Sand’s phone beeped with a message. Reading it, she called out to the crowd, “Okay! Wave has left the restaurant and should be here within fifteen minutes! Everyone get ready to duck and hide!”
With a minimum of fuss, everyone took up their hiding positions, Pinkie ‘escorting’ Rainbow up to the spare bedroom before coming out to cover up the cake and other goodies with paper tablecloths. Blaise and Rip came in ten minutes after the text, parking in the alley behind the house and hurrying in the back door just before Wave pulled in to the driveway. Sand Castle and a couple of the guests pulled down the back blinds, the front ones she had pulled down earlier.
Everyone was in position when the front door opened. “Sand? Why is the house so dark?” Wave called out as he came in, the door closing behind him.
From the darkness, Sand called out, “So we can do this, brother!” At that instant, the lights came on, the window blinds were pulled up, and everyone in the house shouted, “SURPRISE!”
Wave rocked back in his chair, thoroughly surprised. He looked over the crowd as Pinkie uncovered the cake, and the music gear became visible. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he exclaimed.
“Not with this, darling!” Rarity said from where she was standing.
“Heck, no! When I heard about this, I said why not make this as awesome as you are, Wave!” Rainbow called out as she made her way out of the hall.
“We would have not done all this if we didn’t think a lot of you, Wave!” Rip said. “Besides, thank Sand for setting this up!”
Wave ‘glared’ at Rip and Blaise. “You two were in on this!” he shouted, waving a finger at the two men. “I didn’t even smell a set up!”
“Setting you up was right thing to do, ja?” Blaise said as he walked out of the shadows.
Sand walked up to her big brother and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy birthday, brother. You deserve this,” she said in his ear.
“Well, come on! Let’s get this party started!” Pinkie called out.
For the next hour and a half, there was fun, music and merriment to be had at the house of Wave Rider and Sand Castle. Wave got to meet some friends he had not met since leaving Tiara Technologies, got serenaded by Rainbow Dash doing a sultry version of ‘Happy Birthday’, enjoyed a perfectly wonderful chocolate cake, and picked confetti out of his hair, having a grand time. He got to jam with his sister, Rainbow Dash, and to his surprise, Rarity, who admitted she had not played in years. Rip got together with Pinkie Pie, who confirmed she was on the Total Wasteland forum, he gave his i.d., and the two of them spent time in the kitchen, utterly lost in Total Wasteland chat.
Then, a beeping noise cut through the merriment, coming from Rarity’s phone. “Someone’s trying to break in to my car!” she called out as she read the message.
“Where did you park?” Wave asked.
“I had everyone park behind the Star Market, so you wouldn’t see the cars in front of the house, Wave,” Sand explained.
“Come on! Let’s go see what’s going on!” Rip called out before sprinting for the door. All his exercise was beginning to pay dividends. Yes, he still had a big spare tire around his middle, but his strength, stamina and speed have all improved since his surgery. He was followed by Blaise and four other guests.
In the parking lot, two people had finished breaking the glass out of the driver’s side window of Rarity’s luxury car and got the door open. “Will you look at all this!” the gaunt red-skinned man wearing a blue tank top exclaimed as he looked inside.
“I’m looking, but let’s get taking!” said his partner, a girl with bone-white skin, black and silver striped hair, and a cadaverous appearance. “I got the bag!” She held out a cloth bag that has seen better days.
The boy quickly ducked under the dash, expertly disconnecting the very high-end stereo. “Check the console!” he called out. “There could be cash in there!”
“I hope so! We need another fix!” the girl said as she opened the console and started stuffing whatever was in there into the bag, without looking.
“What, you two again?” said a voice from behind the girl. “Bag Lady and Strungout. Choosing a new neighborhood?”
The pair stopped in mid-action. “Split Second!” they said together before Strungout added, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, just visiting friends. You know whose car you’re breaking into, right?”
“Somebody with more money than sense,” Bag Lady said, still having not moved.
“Somebody with friends,” came a voice from the roof of the store.
“Shadowstrike?” Bag Lady said, looking up. “How did we get so unlucky?” as several more people came through the gap in the wall surrounding the parking lot, led by Rip and Blaise.
“It’s just not your day!” Split Second said gleefully. “Don’t you go stuffing anyone or anything into your bag, or else you’ll REALLY have a bad day!”
“Same with you, Strungout!” Shadowstrike said, gracefully leaping down from the roof. “You got caught and stringing out to escape will just make things worse for you!” When Shadowstrike reached the ground, Rip started staring at her, in lovestruck admiration.
“Yeah! Try anything and I’ll tie you in knots!” Split Second said warningly. “Just stay right where you are until the police get here and get you back to Purgatory, where you belong! You’re surrounded!”
Bag Lady zipped up her bag and let it slip off her shoulder. “How did you find us so fast?” she asked.
“The license plate of the car is ‘SWEETIE9’,” Shadowstrike said casually. “She can afford the best car alarms.”
Strungout and Bag Lady looked at each other as sirens made themselves heard, closing rapidly. “This is Rarity’s car? No wonder…” Strungout groaned.
“Yes, it is my car,” Rarity said severely, surrounded by some of the partygoers, who were busy snapping pictures of the two thieves, the open car door and the smashed window glass scattered in the lot. “I doubt you two will be seeing the light of day any time soon.”
What with police issues, getting a tow truck, and calling the insurance company, it was about an hour before everyone got back to the party, Shadowstrike and Split Second departing just after the first police car arrived, Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash arriving about ten minutes later to watch over matters from the back of the crowd. At the party, the merriment resumed and lasted another hour before people had to start leaving, Rainbow Dash calling a taxi and Wave Rider bringing Rarity and Twilight Sparkle back to Rarity Tower.
“Thank you so much for coming to my party, Miss Rarity and Doctor Sparkle. You helped make my birthday truly memorable,” Wave told the ladies as he pulled up to the executive entrance.
“Think nothing of it, darling! I had a perfectly wonderful time there! Other than the car, that is. You showed me I really should get back into playing a keytar again,” Rarity told Wave, squeezing his hand.
“I’m sure Wave will give you lessons, if you feel the need,” Twilight said from a back seat.
“Yes, I would be happy to, Miss Rarity. Kindness should be returned with kindness, laughter with laughter,” Wave said in reply. “It’s so nice to see you smile. I’ll help you smile again, if you wish.”
“We’ll see about making time, Doctor Rider. Until next we meet!” Rarity told him before opening the door and getting out.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Wave. We have final tests due, and I need reports on the Mark Two armor,” Twilight said as she got out of the van, the doors closing automatically.
“Will do, Twilight! See you tomorrow!” Wave called out before departing.
In the elevator heading up to her apartment, Rarity said to Twilight, “Thank you for suggesting I accept the invitation. He really is a wonderful fellow.”
“Hey, you needed some friendship time, no pressures, no worries. I’m just glad you listened.”
“Believe me, I’m glad, too.”
Back at home, Wave and Sand sat side by side, each with a purring kitten on their lap. “Sister, thank you for today. It was awesome.”
“Just as awesome as you are, big brother.”
Author's Note
Yes, Wave and Sand are close. Don't you wish you had a kid sister who would do such a thing for you? I got two, and they would never...
As a trap door opens below Desmond's feet and he vanishes, the trap door closing without a trace
That's enough, Doomsday! You're not paid to ramble about your family! ...a voice shouts from offstage...

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               11- Gray Man's First Call-up                
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11- Gray Man's First Call-up
Blaise Arrow had finished his almost-nightly exercise routine and was just about to set off on his nightly five-mile jog when his phone beeped. It beeped with a special tone he had added, one that will go off when one specific number texted him, the number belonging to ‘a friend of a friend’, as he called it. Checking the message, it read, ‘Gray Man presence requested at’ it then gave an address in the warehouse district of downtown Equestrian City ‘in ninety minutes. Extra-curricular activity authorized with code word Sparkle One. Can relay?’
Blaise thought about the city maps he had long since memorized, seeing if he could jog there or would have to drive. Deciding he could make it without too much fatigue by jogging, he sent a return text. ‘Gray Man will be in the vicinity at time specified, wearing his hat.’ He then went to his bedroom to put on his Gray Man suit, an armor-reinforced lightweight body stocking given to him by his boss at work, who was one of the few beings that knew he was a meta. Once dressed, he put his jogging suit on over them, putting his full-head face mask in his pocket. The mask not only had padding and reinforcements, it had a two-way radio and a voice distorter built in to it. He then locked up his apartment, stashing the key in his hiding spot before setting out for his destination.
When he arrived at the designated site, Blaise was glad (well, as glad as he could be) that he was not only in excellent condition for being in his early middle thirties, the jogging shoes he wore provided him with excellent foot support. He jogged around the area until ten minutes before the designated time, where he found a place to take good cover before putting on his full-face mask and stashing his jogging suit. Blaise needed the full head covering because one of his most distinctive features is extensive scarring on the left side of his head. Nobody who saw the scars would forget them. The mask gave him anonymity. “Gray Man in position,” he whispered, trusting the radio circuitry would do its job.
“Firebird to Gray Man. Copy your position. Be on lookout for a white semi-truck tractor. Observe driver and especially which container it hooks up to,” came a voice in his ears, the voice being that of the meta-hero known as The Phoenix. “Be aware Matterhorn will be in vicinity as well. Your mission is to mark that semi-trailer so it can be tracked by air.”
“Gray Man copies traffic. Will observe, report and label,” he replied tersely, his voice masker changing his voice’s pitch, but not its monotonal qualities.
“Firebird ten-four.” At that, Blaise settled in to wait. It was not long before a white semi-tractor pulled up, the driver getting out to unlock a door in the warehouse he had pulled up to. As Blaise watched, he could see the driver acted as if he not only knew what he was doing, but he was not trying to hide his presence at all. The driver acted like he belonged there. After a minute, the driver came back out, locking the door behind him and driving to the loading dock area, a gate in the fence opening, allowing the driver to access the trailers.
Blaise moved to observe the access gate better, reporting in as he did. “Matterhorn to Gray Man. Find a place to climb so you can mark the top of the trailer. Observe and report trailer’s path for as long as you can.”
“Gray Man copies, Matterhorn,” Blaise replied. Mind you, he did not know who Matterhorn is, except as an ally that he was told he could trust by two people he did trust. Blaise found a ladder to the roof of the warehouse, so up he climbed. Looking over the edge where the tractor went, he found it backed up against a trailer, the driver hooking up control lines. Quickly, he summoned his crossbow, set it for heat bolts, and fired several times down at the roof of the trailer, leaving an unmistakable pattern of scorch marks there. “Labeling accomplished,” he reported.
“Stay hidden, Gray Man. You will be picked up after the tractor leaves,” Matterhorn told him.
“Prepare for pickup. Understood.”
Blaise waited patiently, watching the truck and trailer leave the warehouse yard, the symbol burned into the roof clearly visible from above. Shortly after the truck passed out of sight, he heard, “Gray Man, prepare for pickup.”
“Ready for pickup.”
Blaise became aware of a purple glow surrounding him, then he was lifted off the rooftop. “Do not struggle, Gray Man. I have you,” Matterhorn said in his ears. He promptly went limp in the grasp of the purple glow. “Just keep an eye on the truck.”
Together, the two tracked the semi across town, to a lumberyard that was set a long way back from the road, long twisting drives leading both to and from it, labeled ‘in’ and ‘out’. They quickly landed to observe what would be happening, which turned out it being the trailer was dropped off there and left. “Now, why would they do this?” Matterhorn mused. “This just does not make sense.”
“To us, make sense do not. To them, make sense do. Trace ownership of truck, trailer, warehouse, lumberyard. Commonalities search for,” Blaise suggested. “What in trailer?”
“In order, independent trucker, trailer owned by warehouse, working on warehouse owner, unknown as of here or what could be inside. For all we know, the trailer can be empty,” Matterhorn muttered.
“Ja. If trailer empty, then trailer brought here to be used someplace else, pick up by someone else.”
“You could be right. I think I will leave a tag on the trailer, so I can track it.”
“Down. Somebody approaching from road.” The two ducked below the low parapet of the roof. Blaise peeked over the edge while Matterhorn put a probe up. They observed a pickup truck pull up with something in the bed, covered by a tarp. The pickup pulled up alongside the trailer, the driver opened the back doors, and the driver and passenger loaded several crates from the bed of the truck into the trailer, going all the way back. This went on until the truck was empty, at which time it pulled out and left.
“Suggest check a crate we do?” Blaise asked.
“No,” Matterhorn replied. “There’s another car coming.”
A parade of pickup trucks arrived over the next three hours, slowly loading the trailer with crates. Phoenix reported in, saying the pickups were coming from different directions, and staggered so that one is gone before the next one arrived. “Somebody is going to great effort to keep this completely in the dark,” Matterhorn muttered after three hours.
“Ja. Much longer should not run. Lumberyard early opens it does. Trailer blocking access to wood storage,” Blaine observed.
“I didn’t notice that. You’re right, Gray Man. It is blocking the gate.”
“So, wait we do until happen something does.”
“I hate waiting,” Matterhorn muttered.
“I so do too. Patience necessary to bring down targets. Patience I have.”
“How you manage it?” Matterhorn asked.
“Discipline. Trained I did as sniper before Army find my gift for electronic diagnosis and repair. Was good sniper. Glad I was for transfer.”
As Matterhorn was going to reply to that, Phoenix broke in. “Semi cab coming up drive,” she warned. The pair watched the semi cab drive up and start connecting to the trailer. “We need to stall the driver, but how?” Matterhorn asked.
In response, the Gray Man lit up his crossbow. Even in the dark, it did not shed too much light. “To me leave that,” he said quietly. He waited until the driver got into the cab before firing, guiding the bolt into the rearmost outside tire. He fired again, sending this bolt to the inside rear tire. The driver got out when she felt the trailer tilt to the right. The driver checked the tires, found the two flats, then started swearing and cursing up a storm that was audible, for a few seconds at least, up on the roof. “That driver to Eastern Empire be at some time.”
“How do you know that?” Matterhorn asked.
“Recognize words used, I did. Translate them I will not. From voice, can tell you lady are. Not right to use such words in front of lady, even when said by lady. Put her sleep I should?” Blaise asked.
“How long will she be out?”
“Little three minutes, more than hour at most.”
“I will only need a few minutes to place a tracker where it will not be found, and maybe check out a crate,” Matterhorn said after a little thought.
The crossbow bolt changed from a steely color to one with a reddish hue. “Ten minutes be this one.”
“Fire away.” Matterhorn commanded.
Blaise fired, guiding the bolt to strike the still-swearing driver in the back of the neck, dropping her like a sack of potatoes. “Go now.”
Matterhorn flew down and opened the trailer door, going in. Thirty seconds later, Phoenix called in. “Another car in the drive!”
“Stall them! I need a minute to get out and shut the doors!” Matterhorn reported.
“Stall, ja.” Blaise said from his rooftop perch. As soon as he saw the glint of the headlights coming through the trees, he fired an electric shock bolt, guiding it low along the road into the engine block. Immediately, the lights went out and the motor stopped, the car coasting to a halt. “Enemy out. To hurry would good be, Matterhorn.”
“Bug planted. Sample acquired. Exiting now.” was heard as Matterhorn left the trailer and closed the door. As she went to take off, a gunshot was heard, and a bullet bounced off her armor. “OUCH!” she yelped, more in surprise than pain.
“Phoenix, need light. Shoot I do,” Blaise said. A gout of flame lit up the skies above the trees, shedding enough light to reveal two people in the drive, one with a pistol, one with a rifle. Blaise did not hesitate. His first stun shot went to the rifle toter. When that one went down, he let a bolt go to the pistoleer, who was shooting up into the sky, trying to hit Phoenix. That one dropped heavily, too. For security, he shot the truck driver a second time, with a heavier stun bolt.
“Matterhorn! Are you all right?” Phoenix said over the radio.
“Yes, just surprised, is all. Gray Man, how long will they be down?” she asked.
“Half hour sure of. After that, depend on person do,” Blaise reported. “Have suggestion to make.”
“If you mean de-ass the area, I agree,” Phoenix called down.
“Remember term must do. That suggestion I going to say,” Blaise replied as Matterhorn flew up to the rooftop.
“I agree, Gray Man. I’ll take you back where I found you. Phoenix, will meet you later at the place,” Matterhorn said as Gray Man lifted off the rooftop in a purple nimbus.
“Appreciate that I do. Later to tell me what was found. Hurry not.” Blaise said as he was flown.
“That makes one and a half I owe you, Gray Man!” Phoenix said as she flew off in a different direction.
“Understood. Maybe someday collect. No hurry. Helping heroes is right thing to do.”
“And thanks for it!” Phoenix said before she flew out of Blaise’s radio range.
The Gray Man was dropped off right where he was picked up at, back in the warehouse district. “Watch your mail, Gray Man!” Matterhorn said as she flew off. Blaise did not reply as he found his jogging suit, put it on, took off his head mask and started jogging home. At home, he found a message waiting on his house phone from Twilight Sparkle, which said he was not to report in to work until noon tomorrow, that she would be out of the office but would require his aid after noon.
“Lucky I am to have such good fortune. Tired I be,” Blaise said as he stripped off his clothes for a long warm shower before fixing a light meal of cheese bratwurst on hot dog rolls before falling in to bed. Two days later, he received a thick envelope in the mail with no return address. Inside was a typewritten report of what was found in the truck, as well as copies of the arrest report of the driver and the two gun goons. Also included was a five-hundred-buck money order with a note that said, “Thanks for your help. Until the next time,” the note was from Twilight Sparkle, the one who gave him the Gray Man suit to begin with. “Connections she has, more than I know or need to know,” he said quietly as he read through the report. Apparently, along with a lot of mixed equipment, there were some very exotic chemicals which were in the process of being traced. Very dangerous exotic chemicals. Special handling required chemicals.
“Wonder what such gear was needed for,” Blaine observed as he filed the papers away in the back of his main desk file drawer, in a folder that had gray tape on the tab.
Author's Note
Shoulda posted yesterday. My goof. Sometimes, it aint easy to know what day it is.
An average day at work for Blaise's second job. He's no front-line meta, and knows it, so he helps the front-liners, giving them the extra little edge that could spell the difference between success and failure.
Next week, someone new joins the group, with a rather unusual ability. How unusual? Well, be careful looking in the... gets interrupted by a large cream pie right to the face...
SHUT UP, DESMOND! is heard from offstage. The Announcer just slinks off, clearing cream from his eyes
Did you HAVE to use shaving cream, Morris? Makes my eyes sting...

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                      12- Venus Blue                       
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12- Venus Blue
Rip Current was standing in front of his new full-length mirror after a shower, nude, looking himself over. “Looking a bit better,” he thought, “All the exercise is finally beginning to show. I’ve lost three inches off my waist and dropped twenty pounds since the liposuction, and getting my wind and stamina back.” He looked closely at the scar left by his gastric sleeve surgery. It had faded, the scar removal cream having its desired effect, it standing out less on his pale-green skin than it has been since the surgery a while back.
Playfully, he struck a few poses, grinning cheesily at himself. “You won’t ever be a hunk like Blaise or Wave are, but you are looking better,” he said to himself. “The only time I ever lost this spare tire was in boot camp, and that was seventeen years ago.”
A flicker of motion appeared, in the mirror. It looked like something was fluttering in the air behind him. Turning to look, he saw nothing there in his bedroom that could cause the sight. Looking back at the mirror, the fluttering had become more distinct, resolving into a shape that appeared to be closing in on him. Eyebrow rising, he looked behind him again. Still nothing.
In the mirror, the shape resolved into the form of a young woman, with bluish skin, shoulder-length pink and green striped hair gathered in a pony tail, wearing shorts and a tee-shirt that declared ‘Rainbow Dash fan club’ in different colored letters on a darker blue background than her skin. She seemed to be saying something, but Rip could not hear anything. In seconds, the woman was up against the mirror, but on the other side, with a pleading look on her face, mouth moving, hand out as if reaching, begging for help, the hand touching the glass, or so it seemed.
Rip reached out to touch the mirror where her hand was touching the glass. He felt glass for an instant, then he felt her hand grasp his, coming out of the mirror to do so. Reacting without thinking, he grasped the hand and pulled, drawing the woman out of the mirror, who fell against him, knocking him to the floor, she on top of him.
The woman clutched at Rip; face scrunched some in fright. “Thank you…” she said, shuddering. “I didn’t think I could ever get out of there!”
Startled, Rip held her close to him. He found that she was ‘full-figured’, like Wave’s sister Sand Castle, but not truly as fat as he is. “I got you,” he said as calmly as he could. “Now, how did you get in the mirror, and who are you?”
The girl worked at catching her breath, calming down a bit. “I’m Venus Blue,” she managed to say. “I was checking myself in the mirror at school, about to go out with friends, when I tripped on something and fell against the mirror. I fell THROUGH the mirror to the Other Side. I couldn’t get out! Mirror after mirror, I tried and tried, but I could not get out. When people saw me, they turned around and ran away when I asked for help. You were the first who didn’t run away.”
It dawned on Rip just what position he was in, and who he was holding on to. “I’m Rip Current. Excuse me, but would you mind if I got up and put something on?” he asked as politely as he could.
Venus gasped in realization and hurriedly got up. “Sure. Sorry! I just wanted to get out of there…”
Rip quickly put on a pair of swim trunks, tying them tight because otherwise they would fall off, he having lost a lot of weight since he bought them. “Well, you’re out now. Want something while we try to figure out what happened?” he offered.
Venus nodded. “Please,” she said. She followed Rip out to the front room of his apartment, where she accepted a diet soft drink. “Trying to watch my weight.”
“So am I,” Rip snorted as he grabbed one for himself. “So, tell me about your day.”
Venus explained that she was about to head out to a fan club meeting with friends from college, and somehow, she tripped and fell into the mirror. On the other side, she could not sense her body, just a multitude of windows in a vast space, the only light coming from the windows. She would go from one to another, trying to find where she came in at. She did, but she could not pass through. In despair, she went from one to another, seeing people in a few, but they all turned and ran, until she stumbled across here, where he pulled her out. “Back there, I had no sense of my body. It was like I was just a point, a point of thought, flitting from mirror to mirror. How did you manage to get me out?”
“Damned if I know, Venus. You reached, I reached, I touched you and pulled you through. What do you do for a living, when you’re not behind the looking glass?” Rip asked.
“I attend college in Saddleback, studying veterinary science. Where am I?” Venus asked.
“Equestrian City, west side. I work for Rare Innovations, I.T. department. You’ve come a long way from Saddleback,” Rip told her.
Venus sat bolt upright in her chair. “Equestrian City? How did I get that far?” she asked, looking for a clock. Finding one, she first looked at it, then stared at it. “That far in ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes? That’s interesting. Looks like you’re a meta with an interesting talent.”
“A meta? Me? But I’ve been nowhere near the Canterlot Catastrophe! How can I be a meta?” Venus sobbed, getting more scared by the second.
Rip reached over and took her hand. “Neither was I, and I’m a meta too. Would you object if I emailed some people I know, to see about getting you some help?”
“You’re a meta? What can you do?” Venus asked, her sky-blue eyes looking deep into Rip’s sea green eyes.
“I have a way with electricity, stopping or reversing current flows. I’ve only known for a few months, but I know some other metas who are new to their talents, and we hang together, practicing and getting to know each other. Want to join us? You’re not alone, you see.” Rip told her, trying to get her to calm down.
“Sure, call for help if you can. I need to call my friends and tell them I won’t be joining them.”
Rip looked at Venus’ shirt. “I’ve met Rainbow Dash. She’s a wonderful lady. Have you met her yet?”
Venus squealed, in glee this time. “You met her? Tell me about it!” Rip spent fifteen minutes explaining about Wave’s birthday party, where he met Rainbow Dash and got to sing along with her and the rest of the crowd before she settled enough to let him get at his computer long enough to send out some emails. It wasn’t long before he got responses, from Twilight and Sand. Twilight wanted Rip to bring Venus to the lab, while Sand offered to come by and ‘hold her hand’. A few more emails led to a plan of action, that being Rip bring her to Diamond Labs and Sand would meet them there. Wave was out of town at a robotics convention, and Blaise doesn’t check his emails until later.
At the labs, Venus sat with Twilight, Sand and Rip. Under gentle persuasion, she told her story again. Twilight had a full-length mirror brought into the lab, and asked Venus to demonstrate stepping in and out. Stepping in was no problem. She promptly turned around and looked at everyone outside before trying to exit on her own. After several attempts, Twilight reached out to touch the mirror, pulling Venus out. “That’s interesting,” Twilight commented. “You can go in, but not out. Not without help, that is. I’m going to need some time to think about this. Can you find your way about in there?”
Venus sat and thought for a moment. “I think I can. It’s all a vast matrix of windows, up down and sideways, as far as I can see. But I think I know each mirror I have passed through.”
“I have an idea for an experiment,” Twilight said. “You go with Rip and Sand somewhere and try to mirror walk your way back here. I’ll pull you out, then you go back in and return to where you started. Feel up to trying?”
“I’m willing,” Venus said.
Sand stood up. “Let’s go to my place. Will add a new destination to your list, and you can go back and forth that way.”
Rip nodded in agreement, taking Venus’ hand in his. “Let’s get started. Sooner started, sooner we’ll find some answers.”
Venus squeezed Rip’s hand before standing up. “I like that idea.”
They took Sand’s van to her place, it being big enough for three, Rip’s car being a little tight for three. Venus made several trips between Diamond Labs and Wave’s house, finding she could carry messages on paper through the mirror, working up to something she was wearing or carrying, but no more than that. They also found she needed a mirror big enough to go in and out of. Smaller mirrors she could see through but could not fit herself through. A standard vanity or bathroom mirror set up and back from the floor, they found it’s hard for her to get in to, and harder to get out of. After a few passes through the mirrors, Venus called a halt because she was feeling tired, and she needed to get back to school and her dorm before it got too late. After some cuddle and play time with Freckles and Starshine, the three piled into Sand’s van to head back to Diamond Labs, so Rip could pick up his car and head home while Sand drove Venus to Saddleback.
Until the next weekend, Venus checked in nightly with Twilight, Rip and Sand. Blaise and Wave were brought in to the loop, and Twilight peppered Venus with questions and suggestions for the following Saturday, when the whole group was asked to come in to the lab for testing.
Once everyone was gathered, Twilight called Venus and asked her to mirror in to the lab, timing the trip from the command to go in to the time Venus appeared in the mirror, phone in hand. When Rip reached to the mirror to pull her out, Venus reached out with the hand that was holding the phone. To everyone’s surprise, the hand with the phone came right out of the mirror, followed by the rest of her. Venus fell upon exiting, Rip catching her before falling to the floor.
“We gotta stop meeting like this…” Rip said, looking up at Venus’ eyes.
“At least you’re dressed this time, Rip.”
Everyone except Blaise chuckled at the by-play. He did say, “Not know that had it in you did, Rip,” in his standard drone.
Twilight, meanwhile, was looking confident. “I was right! I know how you can get out of the mirror now!” she exclaimed.
“How is that, Doctor Sparkle?” Venus asked as she got off Rip.
“Before, you needed help getting out, but not in. It is dark in there, right?”
“Yes. The only light there comes in from the myriad of windows. What does that have to do with anything?” Venus asked.
“Light pressure!” Twilight exclaimed. “Outside, where there is light, it pushes you in, but you can’t push against it unless you bring light of your own to ‘push aside’ the incoming light enough for you to exit!”
“You know, that makes sense,” Wave mused. “I’m not sure how it does, but I can see that it works.”
That afternoon, the group tested different ways of getting Venus in and out of the mirror. It was found that whatever light she used had to be on when she walked into the mirror, because on the back side, Venus could not see or operate anything. They also found that she could carry things in and out, but she could not drag it in. She must be carrying it, in her arms or on her back. When she took Sand’s hand to try to walk in, her fingers slipped from Sand’s grasp and Sand bounced off the mirror. “Well, that didn’t work…” Venus said when she exited.
“Apparently not,” Sand said, rubbing her bumped nose.
Venus did a few more tests, like going back to her room in Saddleback and bringing back a suitcase, then returning it. Twilight found that whatever light she used would show up in the mirror but would not project out and around the room. Also, when it was dark, Venus could not enter the mirror due to insufficient ‘light pressure’. Her flashlight would permit access, though.
Before breaking for the night, Twilight summed up their findings. “Okay, you need light to pass through the mirror to the other side and back again. You can take what you can carry, but no more. You need a full-sized mirror to get in and out, but smaller mirrors you can reach through. You can go from Saddleback to Equestrian City in about five seconds through the mirrors, a distance of over a hundred miles. Want to be part of the group?” she asked.
“When I’m not in classes, call me if you need me. I’m going to get my DVM one way or another!” Venus declared, to gentle applause from the others.
“How much longer will that be?” Wave asked.
“Two years and a bit more. I’m about halfway through,” Venus told the group.
“You’ll manage, I’m sure!” Twilight said. “Want to stay for dinner, or head home now?”
“I’m in no hurry. I’ll eat here. Besides, it’s cheaper and better than student hall.”
“And for you better, Miss Venus,” Blaise said in his monotone. “Lose weight a little you should.”
Venus went to snap back at Blaise, but Rip stopped her by taking her hand. “Don’t worry about it, Venus. He’s been niggling me about my weight for six years now. He won’t say anything more for at least a month.”
“I’ll take your word for it, Rip,” Venus replied, looking at Blaise without revulsion. She had seen worse before, and he seemed a pleasant enough fellow, just dull.
Author's Note
Another member admitted into the little group of metas. Will they get along? Will they figure out a use for Venus' unusual power? Will Rip and Venus start a relationship? For the answers to these and other important questions, stay tuned!
Desmond makes an immediate dash for the exit before the Director wises up and belts him again

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                     13- Team Building                     
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13- Team Building
Rip Current and Venus Blue were sitting companionably at Rip’s apartment, going over research notes compiled by Venus and Twilight about Venus’ ability to ‘mirrorport’, as they decided to name the talent. “Time, in the mirror, seems to not function like it does outside,” Venus said, struggling to fully grasp the content. She’s a veterinary student, not a physics major. “While all timers and such seem to indicate I can go from Saddleback to Equestrian City in a matter of seconds, I can perceive time passing, but I’m not certain of the rate.”
“Nor can you do anything with electronics while in the mirrors,” Rip observed. “Recorders record, timers time, lights light, you just can’t do anything to them while in the mirror. All we see in videos is a blur, all we hear is a hum. I’m just glad you can navigate in there.”
“So am I, Rip,” Venus replied after a sip of diet root beer. “However, I have a guess on that. I think I can ‘home in’ on people I know from inside. Finding you, the rest of the group, my parents, my sisters, I can do, it’s a matter of ‘finding’ a nearby mirror large enough to enter and exit.”
“Then, how did you find me?” Rip asked.
“Simple. I was searching for a way out, you were standing in front of a big mirror, posing. I ‘saw’ that and hurried over. I’m glad I did,” she said, reaching a hand across the table and squeezing his.
With a gentle smile, Rip squeezed back. “Happy to help someone who needed help.”
“And I’m always happy to return the favor. I have not heard you complain as much about your diet and exercise regimen now, like you did that first couple of days.”
“Venus, I see you, and I see someone who is comfortable in her own skin. You don’t try to change me, unlike most everyone else. I’m trying to lose another fifty pounds, then I’ll go onto maintenance. I don’t want to get buffed, like Blaise, or toned and lean, like Wave. I’m me, and I’m not going to change that. You give me a reason to strive a bit. Before, I hated it. Now, it’s a means to an end. You like?” Rip confessed, a blush creeping up his pale green cheeks.
Venus smiled easily, still holding Rip’s hand. “I’ve liked you since we first met. You’re a good man with some issues. I’m going to help you read a few of your issues and maybe get you to understand them, like you do with me.”
Rip blushed a bit more, not releasing Venus’ hand. “Always happy to help a friend…” he said shyly.
“Me, too,” she said in return, a blush showing on her blue cheeks.
That day being a Sunday, there was a group expedition planned to a private beach, one provided by Miss Rarity Belle. That Sunday, other than kicking back, was being used to scout the area of the beach to set up for a party the next weekend, it being arranged as a ‘thank-you’ for those involved in the team and their operations and training. Some of the ‘good-guy’ metas were invited, like the Phoenix, Split Second and Shadowstrike, but it was uncertain if they would attend. Permission was granted to call Pinkie Pie in to help with the party planning, but that would not be until later.
While they were lounging on the beach, having burgers (or chicken patties, in Blaise’s case- he will not eat beef. Period.), a topic came up, that being ‘code names’ for each of them. It was Venus who brought it up. “After all, if we have these talents, we should put them to good use. Rip’s told me some of us have.”
“Ja. True that is. But, looking for trouble we do not do. Find us it does,” Blaise commented.
“Might as well be ready for it, in case it does come up,” Wave added. “I like the idea of ‘code names’. The floor is open.”
Blaise hesitated for a second, before speaking again. “Have one I do. Gray Man. Use it once, to help Phoenix and Matterhorn. Detail I will not give, it private.”
“Gray Man fits you, Blaise,” Rip commented, having finished his slider and was nibbling on potato chips. “Descriptive, but anonymous. There are others in the city with a gray skin tone.”
“For you, pick I would Breaker, Rip,” Blaise countered with. “You do tend to break things when power you use.”
“That is good,” Wave said before Rip would get indignant and challenge Blaise to a wrestling bout on the sand. He had already lost once that day. Blaise didn’t mind Rip doing so, it showed Rip was getting more into condition and showing what he had learned from combat lessons. “I’m trying to think of one for me, but I can’t come up with one that sounds right. My skin field protects me, but not my walking suit. I take a blast from something, my suit gets a hole, and I fall like a rag doll. We can’t make a suit sheer enough for the field yet.”
Sand looked up from the cooler, where she had fished up a can of soda. “Just how far does your field project from you, Wave?” she asked.
“Not even a millimeter. The finest we can fabricate now is about three millimeters. Twilight and I are looking into it occasionally. Best I can hope for is a Wonderbolt suit. Those, I can operate,” Wave said from where he sat on the sand. “I have one for you, Sand. How about ‘Battery’?”
Sand looked at her brother, obviously debating whether she should throw her unopened can of soda at him, before deciding against it. It was her favorite flavor, and she didn’t want to waste it. “Try again, big brother. I know where you sleep,” she growled instead. “I prefer ‘Shocker’, myself.”
“That could be a revolting development, Wave. Let’s keep brainstorming,” Rip said. He then looked at Venus, who was sitting next to him. “I have an idea for you. How about ‘Image’?”
Venus considered the suggestion for a few seconds, before smiling at Rip. “I like it. Better than ‘Reflection’, which is what I came up with,” she said in agreement.
“That’s four down and one to go,” Wave said. “Now, which of us have encountered a hero, and which ones? I know Rip, Blaise and I encountered Split Second twice, at my birthday party and coming back from a beach outing.”
“Have seen Split Second, ja, and Shadowstrike twice. Also, Matterhorn once and Phoenix twice. Meet Phoenix again, to talk to, would like to do. Last meeting, all business,” Blaise supplied.
“You were there when I saw Split Second and Shadowstrike, brother.”
“I’ve chatted some with Split Second online, under a different name. She’s a Total Wasteland fangirl,” Rip supplied. “The one name I have for her online is one I will not disclose, because we always switch out of the forum to ask about each other.”
“Is that why you won’t answer your phone whenever Total Wasteland is on, Rip?” Venus asked playfully, getting a blush out of him. “I don’t mind. We all need our hobbies. If I may ask, what ARE everyone’s hobbies? Rip’s is Total Wasteland, while mine is working with animals. That’s why I’m a vet major at Saddleback.”
“While one of mine, since I can’t surf anymore, is my music. It’s one Sand and I share, and Rainbow Dash thinks the two of us could turn pro, if we worked at it for a while,” Wave supplied from his spot on the sand. “Other than that, designing fighting robots for ‘Combat Cogs’. Daydreams, really.”
Sand nodded in agreement. “Yes, Wave and I both like good music. We also like studying or just plain reading. He likes techno-thrillers, while I prefer historical romances,” she said.
“What about you, Blaise?” Rip asked. “There are some times when you just drop off the map for a few days. Even after all this time, I have no real clue about what you are doing.”
Blaise sat there, finishing his chicken sandwich before replying. What he did there was intensely personal to him, and he did not like discussing it. However, looking at everyone looking at him, he decided to let them know as much he felt they should know. “What I do is I have small cabin set out in schwarzewald, the dark forest. Out there, I have forge. I work metal few days, better I feel.” He paused a few seconds before continuing. “Is something father taught me, und his father, und so weiter for generations. Working metal, reminds me of family in East I had before here coming. Work metal brings them to me,” he said quietly.
Rip was the first to break the silence that resulted. “All these years, and I never knew that about you, Blaise,” he said, getting up and walking to the gray man, taking his left hand. “While my family and I are not close, I don’t think I can understand how you feel about it. Just know you have my support.”
Wave, Sand and Venus all chimed in, getting up to stand around Blaise, putting hands on his shoulders. “You have our support as well, Blaise,” Wave said, taking charge. “Would you like to consider us your family in absentia?”
Blaise looked at each one of them in turn, his expression not changing because he lost the ability to show any expression after the missile explosion years before. “Accept that I would. Support each other, we should do,” he droned.
“Support each other, we will!” Wave declared. “We are what we are, and we will be what we will us to be, right?”
“RIGHT!” was returned enthusiastically by three of the four. Blaise did say the word as well, but he could not be heard over the others.
“So, what shall we call ourselves as a group?” Venus asked, once everyone sat back down. Several suggestions were tossed out and rejected before Blaise raised a hand.
Once he had their attention, he spoke quietly. “Need not we do name for us. This we do not for fame, not for fortune, but it being right thing to do. Names for us, ja, so we know who talk to who when in scrum we be. Suggest I do we be ‘das Group’. Work for now, ja?”
A glance went around the circle once, twice, three times before Sand spoke up. “I think that works, for now. He is right that none of us are fame or fortune seekers. We all have our lives to lead, and our talents are more complications than benefits. If we can help others have a better life, even just for a minute, it will make our pains worthwhile, right?”
“You have a good point, sister.”
“Now, what about costumes and radios?” Wave asked. “Getting or making radios with a bit of range, I can do. Costumes are another question.”
Rip was about to say something, but Venus put her hand over his, a questioning look on her face, sniffing. “I know that scent, and it’s not supposed to be here,” she said.
Sand sniffed as well. “Acetone. Not supposed to be any acetone around here.”
Blaise pointed upwind. “Breeze from that way since got here we did. Check we should. Rip, with me you come. Sand, too.”
“Good idea,” Wave confirmed. “Venus, you stay with me. Let’s get to the van. I have some ‘tools’ in there we can use if my suspicions are right.”
“Need a hand up, Wave?” Venus asked.
“No, thank you. I need the practice,” Wave said as he slowly got up. “Stay close, though.”
Blaise led Sand and Rip to the woods at the edge of the beach, the scent of acetone getting stronger, with other chemical odors mixed in. “Meth lab. I’ve run into the remains of some before, as a city building inspector,” Sand said as they went into the woods, Blaise picking the way through the undergrowth without much trouble.
“Ja. Little else could be,” Blaise said quietly as they neared a clearing, seeing a van, a tent and two people through the thicket surrounding the clearing. The three took up positions behind trees or bushes, staying out of sight, listening.
“How much longer does this stuff have to cook for?” they heard a young-sounding voice ask.
“About two hours more, then we can bury the final product, beat feet out of here, and let the next link know it’s ready for pickup,” another voice said, a woman’s voice, but not much older than the first voice.
“I don’t like being out here like this,” the first voice said. “What if someone comes by?”
“This is Rarity Belle’s private retreat, Win. Without the pass I was given, we could not have got in to get here. Good thing Iridium Nib is a skilled forger,” they heard. “Nobody’s scheduled to be here.”
“If you say so, sis.”
With gestures, Blaise indicated they were to pull back quietly, returning to the beach. There, the three gave a report to Wave and Venus. Wave thought for a moment, putting his personal protection, a high-power automatic, back in its case. “We’re going in to take them out, but we’re going to have some backup first,” he said.
“Venus, can you enter a mirror any way other than walking in to a full-length one?” he asked Venus.
“So long as I can fit into it, I can get in. Why do you ask?” Venus asked in reply.
“I want you to find Twilight Sparkle or Miss Rarity and let them know what’s going on here, then come back here. Once the word is out, we’ll close in and restrain them until the police arrive.”
“You have a big enough mirror?” Venus asked.
“We do. There’s one in the roof of the van, about two feet on a side. We keep it covered by the ceiling liner. Big Brother has had a van for years and used to use it as a make-out pad,” Sand said dryly as Wave flushed bright to Rip’s not-so-subdued laughter. “When the old one got shot up, he had this one modified the same way.”
“Yes, well, can you do that, Venus?” Wave managed to say after a few seconds of trying.
Venus turned on her wrist lights. “Just give me a boost in, and keep it uncovered until I get back, okay?”
Sand showed Rip how to undo the fasteners, and soon the mirror was revealed. Rip boosted Venus through, and she was off, returning ten minutes later, Rip catching her as she ‘fell’ through the mirror on the way out. “The word has been passed. Police will be here within twenty minutes,” she reported.
“Good. Rip, Sand, Blaise, make sure those two don’t go anywhere, okay? One of you do some recording, in case we need it later,” Wave directed.
“Wave, one thing,” Blaise said, tapping the left side of his face.
Wave winced. “Right. Anyone have anything we can use to hide his face?” Wave asked.
“I do,” Rip volunteered. He got out the white zinc sunscreen tube and started applying it to Blaise’s face, covering gray skin and scars with the thick paste, both left side and right. “Good thing you keep your hair short, Blaise,” he commented.
“Ja. Right it is to keep it that way,” Blaise replied. Soon, the scars were hidden under the sunblock.
Venus could not repress a giggle. “I didn’t know you could put on makeup, Rip.”
“Drama classes way back when. I’m not the best, but I don’t make a botch of it, either,” Rip said as he finished the job. “There you go, Gray Man. Or is that not-so-gray man?”
“Job done, let us do. Flatten tires, I can.”
The three went back to the clearing, to find the campsite still there, the scent of chemicals heavy in the air. Blaise directed Rip and Sand to make their way back to the road and walk in from that way, he would handle the tires and head back to the beach. Once the two were out of sight, Blaise summoned his crossbow, set it for penetrator shots, and fired two bolts, guiding them in to each of the rear tires. Slowly, the van settled as the tires lost air. Satisfied that the van would be helpless until both tires were replaced, he made quiet tracks to the beach.
Rip and Sand had made it to the access road and had just started walking down the dirt path to the clearing when they were passed by three police cars and a hazmat van. A trailing police car stopped them for questioning. After showing their pass to be here that day, they explained that they had smelled chemicals, called in to Rare Innovations to report it, then built up the nerve to check it out. By the time the questioning was done, the two people at the clearing had been placed in the back of one of the cars, and the hazmat team was busily cleaning up the cookery. Rip and Sand were released to go back to their party, with the policeman, so he could collect the stories of the others in their group, which was done. Their stories all checking out, the police took contact data from all of them and said they could leave.
Wave and Venus were not idle while everyone was gone. They had cleaned up camp and had everything packed up and put away before Rip and Sand returned with the police, so after the questioning, they decided they should head back to town. Venus also had put the cover back up over the mirror in the van. They were about halfway back when the phone rang. The phone in the van.
Wave pushed the button. “How did you get this number? This is an unlisted car!” he snapped.
“You gave it to me, remember?” Twilight Sparkle said drily over the phone.
“Oh, hello, Doctor Sparkle,” Wave said, glad his boss could not see his blush. “What you need?”
“Just wanted to let you know that I’ll have a full report available tomorrow about what went on today, and Rarity sends her thanks for you finding the lab and cooks. The party is still on for next week. Oh, and the designs for your Combat Cogs bot have passed muster with them, and you are cleared for next season’s taping. You going to want a pit crew?” Twilight asked.
“I think I have one already, but if you want to join, I’m sure I can find a spot for you. Think we can get a sponsorship?”
“Already arranged. Full details when you get in tomorrow. Good job, everyone!” Twilight said before hanging up.
“Combat Cogs?” Venus asked as Sand playfully slapped her brother on the leg.
“It’s a show that airs once a year, where teams build robots to fight each other in an arena to win the Golden Screw. Wave’s been wanting to submit an entry ever since he graduated with his doctorate,” Sand explained. “Now he has his chance to play with the big boys.”
“What sort of design are you thinking about, Wave?” Rip asked.
“A big, heavy vertical spinner, to knock opponents up and out of the arena,” Wave said as he drove along the road to Equestrian City.
“Gyro force stabilization, have you thought of?” Blaise asked.
“Above a certain size, they do get extreme. I just hope I can get the spinner large enough to do damage without upsetting the bot,” Wave admitted.
“Design I should see. Idea may I have, compensate for forces made,” Blaise stated.
“If you have some time after we get to my place, I’ll show you my tentative plans and I can get your opinions. Sound good?” Wave asked.
“Ja, good it sound.”
Blaise didn’t leave Wave’s house until almost ten that night, the two of them swapping ideas. Rip and Venus begged off, saying that Venus had to get back to school early. That did not fool anyone, it being obvious to the rest that they wanted some time alone with each other. They were all glad Rip had found a special someone, and Venus seemed to be the one. “Good it be Rip someone find. Better he has been since she into his life did come,” Blaise observed.
The next day, Twilight filled in Wave, Blaise and Rip about the police reports, with Rarity sitting in as well. The cook and her assistant are a struggling single girl and her little brother, cooking the stuff as a way to make ends meet. Rarity said that she asked for parole for the two, taking them under her wing and moving them out of Equestrian City to a city on the far side of the Confederacy, Golden Gate in the Western Territories, in exchange for information on who they were doing the cooking for and a promise to stay away from such matters.
“Just where did they get the forged pass to be there?” Wave asked.
“I have some people working on that now, Doctor Rider. When I have a good lead, I will let you know. Anything now is just speculation, and I refuse to do that. I want proof.” Rarity declared firmly before taking a deep drag off her smoke.
“Position good one, Miss Rarity. Reason why working here has much honor is president of company has honor and generosity,” Blaine droned. “Proud I am be here to be.”
“As I am to have all of you working for me.”
The three men also brought their bosses up to speed on their ‘team-building’ activities, leading to approval from the two in charge. “If it helps you all work better together, I can’t say anything bad about it,” Twilight said after the report.
“Hey, we all may be B-team caliber in this hero business, but even B-teams can be successful, if they put their minds to it and not go in over their heads,” Wave said.
“Ja. Running away is good thing to be able to do. Pick our fights and be unnoticed. That way, more das Group can do to help big heroes like das Phoenix, Shadowstrike, Split Second und Matterhorn. Helping them is right thing to do,” Blaise commented.
“Yes, it is,” Twilight replied. “Matterhorn appreciated your help that time, she told me.”
“Good. Good it be to hear such words. Please to tell her would be honor to help again, und Phoenix too.”
The beach party the next Sunday was an outstanding success, Pinkie Pie setting up a truly excellent beach party theme. The party was by invitation only, with Rarity, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Sunset, Applejack and some other allied heroes making at least a token appearance. Everyone, Rarity included, were pleasantly tired by the time the party broke off well after sundown. Rarity, in fact, avoided alcohol all day, which was easy because the only alcohol there was beer, and she preferred the harder stuff.
“Twilight, darling, thank you for suggesting this day. We all needed it, myself included,” Rarity said to Twilight on the way back to the tower.
“Maybe now you’ll listen to me when I say you need to step back some?” Twilight observed.
“You need to take your own advice, Twilight!” Spike said over the car’s speaker system, setting the occupants to laughing.
“You got me there, Spike!”
Author's Note
Ah, yes, the B-team, learning how to work together. Not quite there yet, but, in most cases like this, the team has to be forged in the fire of battle bots before they can really prove their mettle...
the announcer is promptly buried up to his neck in snow
No promoting other shows, Desmond!
I couldn't resist, Morris. Got something to warm me up with?   
his eyes widen as the producer approaches with a flamethrower...  
fade to black

//-------------------------------------------------------//
              15- And Now, the Fun Begins...               
//-------------------------------------------------------//
15- And Now, the Fun Begins...
Captain Proton, Shocker and Imago all watched the TV screen in Wave Rider’s basement, horrified at the carnage they were witnessing. Fortunately for all, the audio was muted. Wave liked having the TV on a particular channel, which had video ticker tape screen crawls of news updates while he himself listened to a music player with a chip he programmed.
“Imago, do you think you can bring Breaker and Gray Man here through the mirror?” Captain Proton asked.
“Reasonably sure. I have been working out a lot. I’m almost certain I can get Gray Man here. Breaker, maybe,” Imago said. The group had discovered that Imago CAN take more than herself through the mirror, it was a matter of developing her strength. If she could lift another person or object, she can mirrorport it. The early attempt to bring Shocker through the mirror failed because Imago was not strong enough at the time to lift her. Now, she could.
“Go get them and bring them here. I’ll call in to Base and see what they want us to do,” Proton ordered before switching from external speaker to communications. Imago quickly entered the mirror, her ‘tail light’ swiftly disappearing.
Proton, meanwhile, called in to Base. “Captain Proton to Doc Sparkle, do you read?” he asked.
His call was swiftly answered, but not by whom he was expecting. “Doctor Sparkle is unavailable, Captain. I’m Spike, her unseen administrative assistant. Looking for orders?”
“Yes, Spike. I remember talking to you every so often. What do you want the Electric Company to do? We’re gathering at The Cathouse,” Proton reported.
“Okay, let’s see…” Spike said distractedly, as if he was looking something up. “Okay, once you get the team together, we want you to get to the Commonwealth Channel (the river that separated the island Wave lived on from the island Equestrian City is on), find a boat and sail north along the channel, checking bridges, pipelines and such for explosives or any destructive influence. You have the sensors in your helmet to do that, and if you can’t disarm them, report them to me,” he concluded with firmness in his voice.
“Captain Proton and the Electric Company copies orders, Spike. Let me get organized, and we can start.”
“Operations Base ten-four, Captain!”
When Wave looked around, he saw Imago carrying Breaker on her back, in uniform, through the mirror. As soon as Breaker got off, she went back through the mirror. “It’s bad out there,” Breaker said. “I could hear rioting not far from my apartment.”
“What were you doing before all this brewed up?” Shocker asked.
“Watching Total Wasteland. I missed it last night,” Breaker explained. “Blaise and I were up at the forge for a couple of hours, drilling.”
“That’s about the only thing that will make you miss Total Wasteland. Did you tape my appearance on ‘Bucking View’?” Proton asked.
Breaker nodded. “Of course. Both on computer and DVR.”
Proton grinned, although no one could see it. “Knew you were smart, Breaker,” he said as Imago came through the mirror, Grey Man held in a fireman’s carry.
Once everyone was ready, Proton explained to everyone the orders he was given. “Now, how can we follow those orders?” he asked his crew.
“Know a marina I do on riverfront that does boat rent. Go there, get one, cruise upriver,” Grey Man droned.
“Is that not like stealing?” Imago asked.
“It’s like the police commandeering a car to continue a chase. We need something to check out the bridges with, and this is the fastest way,” Proton explained. “Grey Man, please pull up the coordinates of this marina and I’ll fly there. I will bring the boat over to Gramercy Park, we board, and we start our search.”
As Grey Man called up a map of the place, Proton synched his internal computer to his work laptop and printed out a warrant to commandeer one boat, according to appropriate regulations. Once all was ready, Proton headed outside and took off. At full charge, Proton’s armor would allow him to fly for five minutes out of every hour. If the flight time is used up, he will have to wait to fly again. Fortunately, the marina in question was about two and a half minutes flight time away.
While flying, Proton could see fires breaking out all over the main part of Equestrian City, and a few starting on Central Island, where he lived, the place where all the refugees from the Canterlot Disaster were placed a decade ago. “This is so not good…” he said to himself as he started his descent.
Getting a boat was easier than Proton had expected. No one was present at the marina rental office, so he slipped the warrant through the office’s mail slot and went boat hunting. He found a good one easily enough, so he got in, started it, cast off and headed for Gramercy Park.
Shocker led the rest of the team to the park, taking due care to remain unnoticed. While there were signs of rioting nearby, the group managed to avoid them. “Proton to the group, am at the park dock. Shocker, ETA?” Proton called.
“Two minutes, Captain. Entering park now.” Shocker said as they bypassed the park gate easily and went in. It wasn’t much longer than the stated two minutes before they got to the pier and climbed aboard.
“Shocker, take the helm. Head north along the channel. I am to inspect bridge crossing undersides for any ‘foreign materials’ that are there, if any,” Proton said. “The rest of you, keep a look out for trouble. Grey Man forward, the others port and starboard.”
“Ja, kapitain,” Grey Man replied, making his way to the bows of the sporting boat. Shocker took the helm, and started heading north at three-quarter power, to hurry to the first bridge.
For a half-hour, the group inspected bridges and crossings, finding nothing suspicious. Then they approached the Great North Bridge, which led the E-1 motorway into the northern part of Equestrian City, the looming, menacing bulk of Purgatory Rock tower off to their left. (The tower is a spire of volcanic rock almost a thousand feet tall and a good three hundred feet in diameter. Highest point in Equestrian City.) Proton looked up. Seeing motion up there that should not have been there, he called for a stop while he looked, zooming in with his sensors. “Motion up there. Four people going along the maintenance walkway. At least two with large packs,” he told the rest.
“Take me with you up there to stun them for examination,” Grey Man said in his monotone.
“We have not practiced that maneuver yet, but I can’t see anything better. I just hope I won’t lose grip on you going up,” Proton replied. “The rest of you, keep watch down here, and if anyone approaches, challenge them and call me. If needed, zap them.”
“Will do, Captain,” Shocker replied as Proton went behind Gray Man and got a grip on his wrists.
“Wrap your ankles around mine and hold on for all you are worth,” Proton said. Grey Man tensed some, Proton extended his flight pods and lit them off. He needed more thrust than usual to lift off, getting complaints from Shocker and Breaker, who caught the fringes of the takeoff thrust.
The flare from Proton’s jets did not go unnoticed by the foursome under the bridge. Flashes of light showed they were firing some sort of weapon on them. Grey Man did not hesitate. Raising his crossbow, he fired three shots, watching them climb up. One hit the bridge, two hit people, who dropped to the walkway.
“Nice shooting,” Proton told his passenger.
“Danke,” was the response.
“Bitte,” Proton answered as he got even with the walkway behind the people, since they were much closer to the south end than the northern, cutting off retreat.
Grey Man flopped onto the walkway, quickly raising himself to his feet and putting up his shield as Proton flew off the walkway, going to the other side of the quartet. “Now, are you going to tell us what you are doing up here at this time?” Proton asked in an oh-so-polite voice to the one in the front. They were all women, he could tell, but they were all masked.
“Killing meddlers,” was the leading lady’s only words before firing her pistol at Proton several times. The armor took the impacts well, and Wave’s raising of his own force field made sure he took no injury. The armor did take some markings from the bullets, though.
“Oh, now look what you did! You got my uniform dirty!” Proton said in an annoyed voice. He looked behind the lead lady as he raised his left arm and hand. “Time to dish out some punishment!”
Unseen by the leading lady, Grey Man had taken down the other woman with a stun shot from his crossbow and was looking at the Captain. Having caught the muzzle flashes from earlier, he calmly fired a stun bolt into the leading lady’s back as the Captain lit up his electroshock device. The lady dropped like a sack of potatoes, her pistol coming free from her grasp and falling into the river. “Nice shot, Grey. Teamwork helps,” the Captain said to his teammate.
“Ja,” was the reply.
Together, they searched the packs the ladies were carrying. Inside each was twenty pounds of some claylike substance, along with a couple of small boxes with wires. Proton called Spike with what he had found, to which Spike promptly answered, “That’s Composition Five military grade explosive, Captain. Make sure there are no detonators attached to the explosive, then toss it into the channel. Bring the detonators, they are more easily traced. You have three minutes of flight time left. If you can get the ladies onto the south bank, we can arrange for pickup.”
Proton thought for a moment, looking at his display. “I can bring down two, no problem. The third may be dicey. We’ll do what we can. Proton out,” he said before relaying his orders to Shocker in the boat.
“We’ll find a place to tie up on the south bank. We can keep them under cover until help arrives,” Shocker said as she went to one quarter throttle before steering the boat to the south bank.
“Good. Grey, pick up the smallest of them and bring her to the south bank ladder. I will work with the others.”
“Ja.”
Proton picked up the largest of the ladies in his arms before activating the flight pod. Moving as fast as he could, he got her to the south bank near to where the boat was approaching. Wasting no time, he put her down and headed back up. After completing the second trip, he found that he had one minute two seconds of flight time left in his pack. Grey was carrying the smallest down the ladderway without trouble, so he went up for the last of them, gathering their loose packs and anything dropped on the walkway before heading back down. His jets sputtered out just after reaching the ground. “Well, that was close,” he said as his jets retracted into the pack.
“Close, but it worked. Now, to check these ladies over thoroughly,” Proton ordered as Grey neared with his burden. “Breaker, take the helm. Imago, Shocker, help in the search, please.”
A search of their possessions revealed not much to go on. No identification, just pocket money and bus tickets, along with all the gear needed to plant the explosives in place, and one smartphone with the diagrams showing just where to plant the bombs for maximum effect. “I wonder how and from whom they got this information,” Imago wondered.
“Let me look,” Breaker said from the boat. “I think I can track down the sender.”
Breaker took the phone and started flipping through screens. After a few minutes, he told the others, “From what I can find, only from someone named Babs. If I had my laptop, I could find out more. I can give you the phone number.”
Spike broke in over the general frequency. “Give me the number, and I can track it down.” Breaker did so, then Spike told the others, “Head towards Purgatory. We’ll need you to get to the top of the mountain and disable the transmitters on top of it. Mayhem’s transmitting a signal over TV and radio that is causing all the chaos in town!”
Spike followed his orders up with “I’m just relaying from Doctor Sparkle. Now, get going, B-team!”
“Should we just leave them here?” Proton asked.
“Yes. Take only the phone and one detonator. Proton, you carry the phone in your shielded compartment, Shocker, you take the detonator in your screened pouch,” Spike ordered before signing off the general frequency.
“You heard the orders, fellows and gals. Breaker, set course for Purgatory, half speed,” Proton ordered. “I’ll figure out getting on top later.”
“You don’t need to, Captain,” Shocker said. “There’s a transformer bank on the north shore that powers the transmitters. I’ve been there once, to survey some new construction they did. Take out the transformers, and no transmitters.”
Proton looked at his sister, his faceplate hiding his impressed expression. “I like that idea. Okay, everyone catch your breath before we get there. We may have to go through some people to get the job done,” he said, sitting down on a bench seat.
It wasn’t long before the boat circled around to the north side of the island, the transformer field brightly lit. “Over that way, Breaker!” Proton shouted, pointing to the lit pier.
“I see it, Captain. Just chill out, okay? Blowing that is going to give me one hell of a headache,” Breaker said in a distracted tone as he moved the boat alongside the pier. “Imago, take over here and hold the boat in place.”
Imago nodded as Proton led the others down the pier, to come into contact with a locked gate. “Is there a locksmith in the house?” Proton snorted.
“Ja.” Grey Man said, raising his crossbow. Shocker and Breaker moved aside, giving Grey Man a clear shot. One squeeze, and the bolt severed the chain holding the lock in place.
“Nice shot, Grey,” Proton said as he strode up to the gate, taking the chain in both hands before using the strength-amplification circuitry to twist the broken link apart and unwinding the chain to open the gate.
“Practice, Captain. Do that a lot I do,” Grey droned. “Practice both on chain and rope.”
“Well, you do good,” Proton replied as he opened the gate. “Breaker, Shocker, go in and cut the power! Let’s cause a little mayhem here!”
“Watch what you’re saying, Captain…” Shocker snapped. “We’re trying to STOP Mayhem, not cause it!”
“Of course! Mayhem to stop mayhem… fitting, yes?” Proton said with a small laugh as Shocker and Breaker moved off, one to find the distribution bus, the other to one of the big transformers.
It was only a few minutes later that the two returned on the run. “Captain, let’s get clear! Once I start, we want to be far away from here!” Breaker said as he ran, Shocker not far behind.
“Okay! Everyone to the boat! Imago, get ready, because here we come!” Proton shouted as he turned to head for the boat. Grey was already in motion. A minute later, all were aboard and Imago goosed the throttle. “Breaker, fire at your discretion!”
“Everyone, look AWAY from the island!” Breaker shouted before counting. “Three… two… one… NOW!”
The skies lit up as Breaker stopped the power flow in one of the transformers, the flash, followed by a shower of sparks, was bright enough to be seen at a highway junction town fifteen miles away. Proton’s visor darkened even though he was looking away. “Wow… that was something! Breaker, how are you now?” Proton asked.
“Miserable,” Breaker muttered. “I have one hell of a headache. It will pass.”
“Not soon enough, I’m sure,” Imago said from the control chair. She reached behind her back, driving one-handed while she pulled out a first aid kit she had attached to the small of her back with some velcro. “I got something for you here.”
Shocker moved up to relieve Imago at the helm, so she could handle the kit. Imago got it open and pulled out two foil-coated packs, one white, the other orange. “White first. Chewables. No water needed,” she said, giving them to Breaker.
“Thanks, Imago. I know you care,” Breaker said before taking the white tablets. Before he could take the other ones, the skies lit up again, this time a bright white color that started at the top of Purgatory Island and worked its way down all sides of the stone edifice.
“Uh, oh…” Proton breathed before calling in to base to report what he was seeing.
“Go around to the Purgatory dock and make sure no one breaks out! Things are getting busy!” Spike shouted in Proton’s ear before the transmission was shut off with an audible click.
“Will do, Spike. Shocker, head for Purgatory. Let’s hope there isn’t a mass breakout.”
“How can we stop a breakout?” Shocker asked as she steered the boat around the still-flickering tower of rock.
“Stop any boats from leaving until they are fully vetted as being run by staff, not prisoners,” Proton replied.
“Maybe start fire at gate?” Grey Man asked.
“All depends on how it’s set up, Grey. I’ve never been there.”
“Be there soon we will. Find out then. Think while doing, like in firefight,” Grey said, spotting the large pier and receiving complex of Purgatory prison ahead of them.
Author's Note
Okay, so Captain Proton and the Electric Company are off on their first mission, just when the effluent hits the rotary oscillator at high velocities. Can they handle the stress and strain of being thrust into such a situation? Stay tuned for further developments!
Desmond's voice turns into a frightened squeak as large footfalls are heard   
I warned you about ad-libbing, Desmond!   
the producer hollers as he chases Desmond...

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                       16- Purgatory                       
//-------------------------------------------------------//
16- Purgatory
As they neared, the Beta Team could tell that Purgatory was on minimum power, only a few lights on. At the pier were several police launches, one big, the rest smaller. More than one boat spotlight reached their way. “Stop and identify yourselves!” a voice called out through a megaphone. Captain Proton recited their bona fides, citing everything required by the enabling legislation. “Approach!” the same voice called out.
“Okay, pull us in next to the big boat, Shocker. We need to get a handle on this situation.”
“Aye aye, Captain…” Shocker muttered as she slowly approached the pier.
Several officers were there to help moor the boat, some with guns drawn. “We have not heard anything about you,” said the voice from the megaphone, revealing himself to be a grizzled reddish-skinned sergeant. “Sergeant Umber, North Shore precinct. We were sent over to help when things started getting rough in town. As we were docking, that bright flare came down the rock and the power went out. Can’t raise anyone inside. Can’t open the gate, either.” he explained.
“Let me guess, they default to locked position in case of power failure, right?” Proton asked as he climbed out of the boat.
“That’s right. Internal doors fail open, outside doors fail locked. Seeing as there are only two outside doors, the main entrance and the exercise yard, it’s hard to get out.” Umber explained.
“Okay, the first thing to do is to help you get inside the building complex. Shocker, Imago, go with some officers and watch over the exercise yard. If anyone gets through the outside door, you know what to do. Breaker, Gray Man, with me to the front gates.” Proton commanded.
Proton and his team went with Sergeant Umber and six officers to the main entrance. The gate was locked shut, but there was an intercom box on a stand. Umber went up to it and pushed the call button. “Purgatory Control, this is Sergeant Umber, North Shore precinct, with a squad to help out. Report conditions inside,” he said in a no-nonsense voice.
“Sergeant, this is Captain Slinger, watch commander. I can open the gates from here, and I’ll wait until you’re at the door to open that. We’re on emergency power, and all the cells are open. I’m in Control with a squad of ten, while the rest are trying to get prisoners back in their cells. Not all are awake, but those who are have their powers back, and it NOT good!” came from the speaker as the gate clicked open.
“Well be right there!” Umber said as the squad slipped in through the opening gates, guns drawn, the members of the Electric Company following.
When all were gathered at the main door, a clunk sound was heard as the heavy door unlatched and slowly swung open. The sounds of shouting can be heard from deeper in, along with the occasional shot from a guard’s pistol. “Simanchi, take the squad and help out! I’m going to control! Captain, you and your men with me!” Umber barked out. The squad corporal took five officers and headed in. Umber led Proton, Gray Man and Breaker to the Control room door.
Proton stopped in the passageway outside the control room. “Breaker, Grey, head inside and relieve the guards there so they can head in. I’ll stay here and keep any prisoners from getting out this door,” he ordered.
“Ja, kapitan,” Grey replied. Breaker just gave a thumbs-up to show he had heard.
In the control room, Breaker went to the main control console, taking a chair next to the operator, a young policewoman who looked out of her depth. “What sort of computer runs this complex?” he asked.
“A Precision Industries 3600 mainframe,” the policewoman, whose name tag read ‘Myers’ said in return.
“My! Sparing no expense, did they?” Breaker said as he looked over the control board, his hands waving over the panels, but not touching them. “I can feel the power…”
“Just what are you doing, sir?” Myers asked as Grey took a position by the door, after the guards had left.
“Just getting a feel for the system, is all. I like what I feel,” Breaker said just before he disappeared in a bright flash.
Myers jumped up with a squeal of fright as Grey turned to look. “Breaker! You are where?” he called out, well, as best he could with his monotone drone, crossbow at the ready.
One of the monitors changed to show Breaker’s face. “Wow… this is different… working inside the system is fascinating. Don’t worry, Grey. From here, I can control all the doors that have intact wiring, as well as look through all the cameras. Inform Proton there is a mass of prisoners making a rush toward the exercise yard doors, while another group is going through the kitchens. Let me see if I can find the radio circuits…” Breaker mused as he ‘looked’ around him.
“You no panic, I no worry, Breaker. May you come out better than you went in,” Grey said before relaying the information to Proton.
“I heard, Grey. Shocker, prepare to blast the fence to the exercise yard with high voltage. If you can get at the doors, so much the better,” Proton ordered.
“Shocker copies orders, Captain.”
Inside the cybersystem, Breaker looked around, feeling out what was there and how to use it. “Aha… prisoner control system. Step one, let’s shut all the cell doors. Second, lock and bolt outside doors. Third… trank gas? Oh, my…” he said to himself before calling out to the guards to put on respirators, because he was going to release the trank gas in two minutes.
When he did release the gas, Breaker felt the presence of someone else, ‘looking over his shoulder’. He turned to see a bluish spark hovering ‘behind’ him. “What happened to me?” he heard.
“How did you get in here?”
“I don’t know. There was noise and confusion, and I fled to someplace quiet. It’s quiet here. Should I stay here?”
“No, you shouldn’t. Go back to where you were and wait quietly. When you wake up outside of this, ask for Breaker. You a prisoner here?” Breaker asked as he surveyed the prison complex through its ‘eyes’.
“Yes, for hacking ATM’s for money. Didn’t want to, but it was necessary to live. I’m in the records under the name ‘Petunia Wallach’. I’ll go back to my body now. Thank you for talking to me,” the spark said before fading, leaving Breaker to the system.
Inside Purgatory, those prisoners who left their cells congregated in three main areas: the hall to the exercise yard, the mess hall, and the direction of the main gate. The exercise yard group had the least guard opposition, which the prisoners had already taken care of, and several bricks were doing their best to get the outside doors open. Slow going, but they were making progress.
The mess hall group had also dispatched their guard opposition, and had proceeded to the kitchen- and the loading dock doors. One oversight in the construction process was that the loading dock doors were not as strong as the other doors, because outside was just a small concrete dock, the waters there being very deep as well as cold, along with the fact that no boats were kept there, the supply craft being kept on the city shoreline, so it was thought that no one could escape that way. The place losing all power and having the prisoners break loose en masse somehow never occurred to the designers.
The third group, the one heading for the front doors, ran into the stiffest opposition. The prison guards barricaded the hallway at a junction and were pot-shotting any prisoner that showed themselves. The prisoners were showing little mercy to the captive guards, and the guards showed just as much to the escaping and loose prisoners. Those who stayed in their cells were left there.
All prison guards who were conscious put on their respirators when Breaker told them to over the radio. In the control room, Meyers broke out a respirator for her and put it on before giving one to Grey Man, who took it and slipped it on. “Danke,” was all he said.
Fifteen seconds before Breaker was to release the trank gas, the prisoners by the exercise yard managed to force the door open, only to be met by a wall of electricity, courtesy of Shocker. Some fell, others did not. As the trank gas was released, more fell, but three prisoners managed to get outside… and take off. Shocker managed to stun one, who fell back into the yard, but the other two flew off into the night. “Dammitall!” she swore as the two escapees took flight.
“What’s wrong, Shocker?” Proton asked.
“Two managed to get out and fly off into the night. I managed to pot a third. Prisoners are flowing out into the yard, but they can’t get over the fence. Not yet, at least,” Shocker reported.
“Electrify the fence by you as needed, the other side just leads into the water. Imago, you are weapons free at this point, do as necessary.” Proton ordered.
“Yes, Captain,” Imago replied, opening the flap of the holster which kept a dart-throwing gun, each dart loaded with enough tranquilizer to stupefy a charging horse. Problem being, she only had ten darts.
“Will do, Captain,” Shocker acknowledged.
Breaker was maintaining overview as he watched prisoners wobble, then fall as the trank gas overcame them. “Captain, make your way to the mess deck. Some people forced the loading dock door, and the gas is thinner there,” he reported over the radio.
“Right, will do,” Proton said as he made his way to where the guards were defending the corridor. “Captain Slinger, which way to the cafeteria, and how long will this trank gas work?” he asked the guard commander.
“Down that corridor and take a right at the tee. The prisoners SHOULD be out cold for at least a half an hour, depending on the person. I better see about restoring primary power and getting the prisoners back to the cells. Right now, I’ll take putting them in wrong cells until we can sort this mess out,” Slinger told Proton.
“Where is your power room? I’ll take the chance of people drowning trying to escape while I work on getting power back.”
“Tenser! Orren! Escort the Captain to the power room and help him restore primary power. The rest of you, let’s see about getting these prisoners back to cells. Any cells will work,” Slinger ordered.
“Captain Slinger, there are fourteen prisoners out in the exercise yard, still awake. I can try to seal the doors, but I’m not certain of how much damage was done,” Breaker reported over the radio.
“Do that, Breaker,” Slinger replied. “That should keep them contained until we get power back.”
“Will do, Captain,” Breaker said as he commanded the doors to shut and lock. Shut he could manage, but locking would not respond. “Well, at least I can try to keep the door shut as best I can…” he mused to himself as he examined the circuits.
Outside, Shocker and Imago stood watch over the exercise yard. If anyone tried to climb the fence on their side, they got shocked. They didn’t attempt to try to stop the ones who climbed the far side, only to have Imago call out once, “There are no rescue boats available! If you go into the water, you’ll get cold and eventually drown! Keep that in mind!” Didn’t stop two intrepid souls from climbing, one getting over the top razor wire and descending the other side.
Down in the power room, Proton, Tenser and Orren started checking matters. They determined power was still coming in, but whatever happened earlier that lit up Purgatory Rock like the world’s biggest lighthouse caused all the breakers to trip. “What’s the best way to restore power, Breaker?” Proton asked.
“Make sure all downstream breakers are open before shutting the input breakers for main power, then start closing breakers as I have outlined in what I am sending you now,” Breaker said as a listing appeared on Proton’s HUD.
“Copy that, Breaker,” Proton said over the radio before turning on the external speaker. “Tenser, Orren, let’s check all breakers are open before restoring main power. You know how to do that?”
“Yes, Captain,” Tenser, a yellow-skinned lanky fellow replied. “Orren and I are on the night shift because we went through training to handle the electrics in case something happened.”
“Good! You know the restoration sequence, right?”
“That we do, Captain,” Orren, a muscular chunky reddish-skinned woman said. “Five minutes to verify shutdown, then we can restore.”
“Let’s do this, people!” Proton called out as he reviewed the checklist Breaker sent him, while the guards pulled out pre-printed laminated guides to the process.
Captain Slinger went to the exercise yard doors, to find a pile of groggy prisoners there. “Okay, everyone! Back to your cells and I won’t shoot. Resist and I will.” Slowly, the pile of people sorted themselves out and proceeded back to the cell blocks, under the watchful eyes of Captain Slinger and a squad of guards, with weapons drawn. They knew Slinger meant exactly what he said.
Outside, the shocked flier from earlier woke up and tried to flee, only to catch one of Imago’s darts. She went down and stayed down. The others decided that the tide was not in their favor, and sat down on the floor of the yard, Shocker and Imago paying close attention.
In the power room, Proton asked about the power damping field. “Is it the entire structure, or just in their cells?” he asked Tenser.
“Primarily in the cells, active all the time. The corridors and other facilities are on an as-needed basis, to conserve power. Well, not so much power as wear and tear on the equipment. I hope they develop portable nullifiers soon,” Tenser said. “Let’s get the power back on.”
“Get the main power online, and I can take it from there, people,” Breaker said over the radio.
“You sure of that, Breaker?” Proton asked.
“All in the computer controls, if you know how to access them. I do, and have,” Breaker said with confidence.
“Let’s do this. Inform Captain Slinger we are restoring power in ten seconds.”
“Right, Captain.”
Proton and Tenser shut the input breakers. Within seconds, the noise of other breakers shutting filled the power room, as well as normal lighting being restored. “Attention, everyone! Main power has been restored! Prisoners, return to your cells and wait there. You are being watched,” Breaker said over the PA system.
Captain Slinger waved to his group of prisoners. “You heard the man! Back to your cells!” he barked. The prisoners, under the watchful eyes (and guns) of the guards picked up the pace.
“Captain, all those who remained in their cells, the doors are now locked. Empty cells are unlocked until you put someone into the cells, at which point I will lock the doors,” Breaker told Slinger over his radio.
“Sounds good to me! We’ll get these salted down, then we’ll go after the ones in the exercise yard. How does the cafeteria look?” he asked.
“Doors are shut and locked, and the cafeteria nullifier is on. They won’t be going anywhere. The loading door is forced, and I can’t shut it. Two jumped into the water, the rest decided against it.”
“I like the sound of that. Thanks for the help. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“I look forward to it, Captain.”
In the power room, with everything working, Proton decided to check in. “Captain Proton to Spike, do you copy?” After fifteen seconds of silence, he repeated the call. When there was still no response, he tried another frequency.
“Captain Proton to Matterhorn, do you copy?” he called twice before he came to a decision. “Tenser, Orren, report to Captain Slinger. I’m heading outside.”
“Right, Captain!” Orren said for the two as they hurried out. Proton went back to the control room, to find Grey Man and Myers inside, but no Breaker.
“Grey, where’s Breaker? I don’t see him anywhere!”
There was a bright silver flash, and Breaker appeared in the room, standing, with a grin on his face. “I’m right here, Captain! All systems nominal, prisoners being placed back in their cells. Now, I’m going to take a…” he said before his eyes closed and he collapsed, or started to, Proton catching him and getting him to a chair.
“All right is he, Captain?” Grey asked.
Proton scanned Breaker. “If I’m reading this right, he’s just exhausted. I really need to take a few more medical courses,” he said after scanning Breaker. “Grey, head outside and relieve Imago. Have her come in here. Maybe she can read these signs better than I can.”
“Jawohl, mein kapitan!” Grey snapped, saluting (in the Eastern style) before pivoting on a heel and heading out.
“Is he an Easterner?” Myers asked after Grey had left the room.
“Born there, emigrated here, and is a citizen of the Commonwealth. A very good fellow to have on your side. I’m glad he’s on mine,” Proton told the guard, who moved back to the control console.
“If you trust him, so should I.”
Imago came rushing into the room. “How is he?” she asked upon seeing Breaker slumped in a chair.
Proton plugged a cable into a port and called up the scans he did. “You tell me. You’ve had more medical training than I have.”
Imago looked over the readout. “Hmmm… he never did take the orange chewable earlier. He’s in a severe crash. Fortunately, I have something that should be of help.” She took her medkit from behind her back and opened it. Looking through, she pulled out an ampule and a syringe. “A dose of this should prevent him from going into a more severe crash.”
Imago filled the syringe, rolled back the cuff of his uniform and carefully injected the fluid. “You’re not supposed to give an unconscious man anything orally, so I prepared this. I had a feeling he would go too far. Just what did he do?” she asked once the medication was administered.
“From what I figure, he merged into Purgatory’s computer system and controlled matters from there at computer speeds. He’s a good coordinator.”
Imago blinked in surprise. “He did WHAT? He could not do that before!” she squeaked.
“Learn something new every day, right?” Proton said with a small laugh. “Watch over him. I’m going outside and try to call Base. I haven’t heard anything from them since we were told to come here.”
“Will do, Captain.”
Proton headed outside, internally grimacing at the sight of fires burning uncontained in the city across the river. “Damn… worse than I thought,” he said to himself before calling in to base.
Like before, he got no response calling in to Spike or Matterhorn. Coming to a decision, he called a group he was not sure was operational yet- the Wonderbolts. He knew one set of armor had been given to the police, but that’s all he knew. “Captain Proton calling the Wonderbolts. Does anyone copy?” he called.
“This is Captain Spitfire of the ECPD. What are you doing on this frequency, and who are you?” a voice snapped back at him.
“This is Captain Proton of the Beta Team. Failing to contact my superiors, I called on this frequency. I wish to report Purgatory is under lockdown, situation returning to normal, five people known to have got out. Details to follow once the situation fully stabilizes and the duty Captain can get a head count,” Proton reported.
“Good. That’s one worry off my mind! Now, let me find Mayhem! Don’t call me, I’ll call you!” Spitfire snapped.
“When we are done here at Purgatory, Beta Team will head to the City and take on matters as we find them. Acceptable?” Proton asked.
“Good enough. If you find Mayhem, call me! Otherwise, call ECPD dispatch and ask for the Watch Commander. Now, stop distracting me!” Spitfire barked before ending transmission.
“Just as snippy at work as she is in person,” Proton said to himself as he walked back inside. “Hold on… I thought Soarin was to get the armor, not Spitfire… well, when crap hits the fan, plans go out the window.” Shrugging, he headed back inside to find Captain Slinger and to check up on Breaker.
It was about an hour later when Captain Slinger said that all was back under control in Purgatory. Headcount was made, wounded taken to the on-site hospital, and Breaker was back on his feet, the injection and two orange chewables restoring enough energy to enable him to keep going. Captain Proton gathered the Beta Team, boarded their commandeered boat, and headed back to the city, Proton calling in to the ECPD Watch Commander.
“Captain Proton calling ECPD dispatch. Rare Innovations Beta team available for assignment. Situation at Purgatory now under control, heading for North Shore precinct dock,” he said.
“Captain Proton, this is ECPD Dispatch. Report to the North Shore precinct and find Lieutenant Staff. She will have an assignment for you,” Dispatch told Proton.
“Understood and complying, Dispatch. Find Lieutenant Staff and report to her. ETA three minutes.”
“Dispatch aye.”
While they were tying up to the North Shore dock, a tall yellow-orange skinned woman came out to meet them. “Beta Team, yes? I’m Lieutenant Staff, duty commander. We sure can use your help,” she said, running her fingers through her short red hair.
“Where do you want us, Lieutenant?” Proton asked as Grey Man and Breaker tied the boat to the dock.
“Can you just walk down Twenty-Seventh Avenue from the precinct to Fire Station Fifteen? If anything untowards is happening, take care of it and call in afterwards. We’re more than overstretched here, and Sergeant Umber and his squad are remaining at Purgatory to help there,” Staff said, fatigue and stress evident in her face and voice.
“That is what we are here to do, Lieutenant! Let’s do this, Beta Team!” Proton said, getting out of the boat and onto the dock.
“Just where do you find the energy, Captain?” Shocker asked as she, and the rest, also got on to the dock.
“Stimulant juice in the helmet, Shocker. If anyone needs any, ask Imago.”
“I got mine,” Shocker said as she pulled a small bottle of lemon juice from her belt, opened it, and drained it in five quick gulps. After a shiver, she smiled. “Let’s go!”
“Ja. Do this, we should, and now,” Grey Man droned.
“This way, people. I took the time to read up on you earlier today. I’m just glad you are here to help,” Staff said as she led them around the precinct building to the front gate.
“Part of our job, Lieutenant. We’re also glad we are able to help,” Breaker said.
At the front gate, the five looked down Twenty-Seventh Avenue. Several small fires were burning unattended, clumps of people moving quickly from light post to light post, skipping the ones that were smashed or tipped. “This is SO not good,” Imago said.
“Got that right, Imago,” Proton said. “Let’s start walking. We see any looting, we stop it. Any muggings, we stop it. Anyone wounded, we help. We’ve stopped Mayhem’s signal, so the rioting should have stopped by now, but there are after-effects. We can’t clean the whole city, but we can help.”
“That we can. So let's get started!” Shocker declared, setting off southbound on the sidewalk, the rest of the team falling in behind her, Proton bringing up the rear. The sensors in his modified Wonderbolt suit will alert him to any problems coming up from behind them.
Author's Note
Back after a long absence. My apologies to all, but Covid is a true BITCH if you get it. Over two months hospitalized... no thank you!
Doomsday Desmond and Morris will be back next chapter, I promise. "unlocks a door from behind which muffled thumping can be heard" They should untie themselves soon enough...

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                  17- A Walk in the Night                  
//-------------------------------------------------------//
17- A Walk in the Night
As the Beta team started their trek down twenty-seventh Avenue, Imago called a halt. “Captain, if we’re going to help wounded, we all better carry first aid kits. We can get them at the station.”
Proton thought for exactly three seconds before replying. “Good idea. Team, let’s do it!” he commanded before running back to the police station.
Four minutes later, the Beta team exited the North Shore station, each member but Imago carrying two first aid kits. Imago carried an EMT’s gun bag. As the one with the most medical training (even though it was veterinary medicine), she knew what to do with the gear.
They didn’t go far before the team all heard groaning coming out of an alley. Shining his lights, Proton found an older lady in a pile of trash, bleeding. “First target, team!” he called out, going past the hurt lady to the far side of the alley. Shocker and Imago went to treat the victim, and Grey Man and Breaker warded the street side. It only took a couple of minutes for Imago to clean and bind the ladies wounds, and give her some painkillers.
“Can you make it to the police station, Miss?” Imago asked the lady.
“I think I can now. Thank you for helping me,” the lady said as she slowly stood up, with Imago’s assistance.
“Go straight there, okay? We’ll call ahead and you can shelter there,” Imago reassured the lady. Proton, hearing that over the general frequency, did just that.
Once the lady started walking north on 27th Ave, the team commenced walking south. “Quieter than I expected,” Shocker said as she looked around.
“It’s been almost two hours since we shut off Mayhem’s chaos signal. The only ones left should be the ones to really worry about. If a person got only a light dose, it should have worn off by now,” Proton said in reply, just before he heard the clicking noise of an automatic pistol’s slide being worked in the darkness ahead.
Proton got a fix on the location of the sound. “Hold up, everyone… ambush waiting. Let me take lead.” he said over the general frequency before moving up. He took five steps past the group when a shot rang out, followed by two more.
All three rounds struck Proton full in the chest, causing him to stagger a little, but not fall. “You had your turn! We’re next!” he shouted as he turned on his forward lights.
Caught in the lights is a big, bulky man wearing bloody remnants of clothing, holding an automatic pistol, squinting at the light. Shocker, Proton and Grey all fired at once, catching the bruiser in a crossfire of electric arcs and a stun bolt. The bruiser roared in pain, threw the gun away and charged at Proton, grabbing the comparatively thin man and lifting.
“Up you want? Up you’ll get!” Proton laughed as he hugged the big bruiser to him before activating his lift jets. At about ten feet up, he slowly spun so that the bruiser’s back was facing the group. “Imago- let him have one!”
Imago swiftly drew her pistol and fired, catching the bruiser square in his left butt cheek. The bruiser bellowed, clinging on to Proton, keeping his arms away from the jets. Proton settled slowly to the ground, but let the bruiser have a full power electric shock before landing. The bruiser fell to the asphalt, as limp as a half-empty bag of rice. “Another one down! Nice shooting, Imago!”
“Thank you, Captain. Looks like my range time has paid off. What shall we do with him?” Imago asked, looking at the unconscious fellow.
“Help me pick him up in my arms and I’ll fly him to the station. He did shoot at me three times,” Proton said as he started lifting the bruiser up, Grey and Breaker moving in to help. “Shocker, you’re in charge until I get back. Keep moving down twenty-seventh and I’ll catch up.”
“Understood, Captain!” Shocker said as Proton lifted off. “Let’s go, Beta team! Eyes open and ears sharp!” She took point, Imago and Breaker behind her, Grey bringing up the rear.
It was only a few minutes walk before they got to a major cross street, Palmerston Pike. The traffic lights were out, as was most power in that area. Looking both ways, to the west it was dark, because the Commonwealth River was a short distance away, but to the east, not only could they see a fire burning, the four could see several people lying in wait to catch whoever fled the burning building. No police or fire vehicles were in sight, and the fire had not yet taken full root in the building.
“I think I know where we’re heading next, team,” Shocker said before calling the Captain. “Captain Proton, head east on Palmerston Pike from twenty-seventh. Building on fire and a bunch of people lying in wait.”
“I’ll be there about the same time you will, Shocker. Approach with caution, I will enter the building from above and see if anyone needs rescue. I trust you with crowd control,” Proton replied.
“Sounds like a plan, Captain,” Shocker said before looking at her team. “Let’s do this.”
The foursome approached the fire on the same side of the street, Grey and Shocker on point, Breaker and Imago trailing. They approached with caution, which was a good thing because it was obvious (once they got close enough) that a bunch of about ten people were beating on four others, and taking manic glee doing so.
“Grey, let me get a shockwave in, then you start picking off the rioters. Can do?” Shocker asked.
“Ja,” was Grey’s usual terse response.
“Let’s close in until someone notices us before we open fire. Breaker, Imago, you check the victims when you can. Get them clear and see what you can do for them,” Shocker told her team.
“You got it, Shocker,” Breaker said while Imago just nodded.
“Let’s roll,” Shocker said as she took point, approaching slowly towards the crowd. So intent they were on their beating, Shocker got to point-blank range before someone noticed her and Grey’s approach. The man only had time to open his mouth before Shocker let out a blanketing stun field, catching the nearest six, who fell twitching to the street. Grey fired off some stun rounds, getting three. He did hit the fourth, but the fourth one glowed some when the bolt struck him. He looked up from his mauling.
“Fresh meat!” the man shouted as he started running towards Shocker and Grey. Grey fired three more stun rounds, which bounced off whatever force field the man had. Shocker let fly a lightning bolt, catching the man in the chest. The man stopped running upon impact and fell, twitching some. Shocker went right up to the man and touched him, applying an electric shock directly to him. He twitched once, then went still.
“Looks like he couldn’t handle the juice,” Shocker said, looking at the fallen. From inside the building came a noise like a large extinguisher going off, the smoke and flames diminishing quickly.
“That takes care of the fire,” Proton said. “Let me look closer to make sure it’s out and I’ll do a building sweep. How’s it going out there?”
“Ten rioters, four victims. Rioters are down, starting to look them over now. One had some sort of force field. It handled Grey’s bolts, but not one of mine.” Shocker reported before she downed a bottle of lemon juice.
“Okay, then. Bind the perps and treat the wounded. I’ll call the Lieutenant and see if some help can be sent. If you need an ambulance, say so,” Proton told Shocker.
“On it, Captain,” she reported before relaying instructions to the others. Imago and Breaker started checking the wounded, while Shocker took a handful of long strong cable ties out of a pouch. Passing some to Grey, she simply said, “Let’s get started.”
“Ja.”
It took about fifteen minutes to finish binding and treating the people there. Fortunately, the most serious wound they found is a possible broken arm, so Imago improvised a splint and bound the arm tightly. Proton arrived after doing a building check. “Everything looks okay inside, the fire didn’t get into the walls, just made a lot of smoke. Residents may return to their homes, and let’s get the perps arranged for pickup,” he said over his loudspeakers. Soon, he and Grey had all ten perps lined up against the wall of the building, hands bound in front of them, feet bound together as well.
“Which one repelled your bolts, Grey?” Proton asked. Grey pointed to the one, and Proton doubled the bindings. “Who knows what else he can do?”
“Good point, Proton. Shall we keep moving? I don’t want to stay still for long, I may get tired,” Shocker told her big brother.
“Good point. Anyone, if you feel you need a stimulant, see Imago. Let’s get back to Twenty-Seventh. North Shore Hospital should be a quarter-mile away, and we should check there,” Proton told the group. Seeing no dissent, he took the lead.
Turning onto Twenty-Seventh, they could see the hospital in the distance, the only building in the area with lights on. As they got to the entrance, about to speak with the guards, the lights flickered and dimmed, some going out.
“Shocker! You, Breaker and Grey find out what happened to the power. Imago, you’re with me. Let’s see what we can do inside,” Proton snapped out.
“Yes, Captain!” Shocker said before looking at Breaker. “You can trace where the generators are, yes?”
Breaker nodded. “I can, and have. This way!” he said as he led the way.
Captain Proton turned to the guard and explained that they were Rare Innovation’s Beta-team, two of the three have electrical abilities, and are willing to help restore power to the hospital. “You better come with me, Captain, and explain this to the duty administrator. Right now, we can use any help we can find!” the guard said, waving to the packed emergency room waiting area.
Shocker and Grey followed Breaker to the emergency generators, which were working fine, but they spotted someone at the generator control panel, trying to work it. “Grey…” Shocker said, pointing at the person at the panel.
Grey lifted his crossbow and fired a stun bolt, which hit the person square, dropping whoever it was to the ground. The three hustled up to look, Breaker checking out the panel while the other two checked out the person.
The person was a skinny young woman, clad in tattered clothing. Shocker could sense something unusual about the woman, her power senses giving her strange feelings. As Shocker checked her over, she spotted small sparks in the woman’s eyes. Thinking quickly, Shocker called up her electricity and carefully ‘fed’ the woman power. “I think she’s a meta with a dependency on electricity, and she sought out the nearest source to feed from,” she told Grey.
“Right you can be. Stun bolt work, but effects not expected be. Awake soon, she could,” Grey droned.
Breaker said from the control panel, “Everything is set here. Don’t know what it did, but the generators are running smooth now. Full power to the hospital.”
“Good to hear,” Shocker said as the woman started waking up.
“Need power… was running low…” she whispered.
“Easy there, we have you now. I’m feeding you electricity carefully. How long have you been dependent on electricity?” Shocker asked.
“Just today, after those two bright flashes. When the lights went out, it wasn’t long before I felt hungry. Batteries didn’t help. Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Shocker, deputy beta-team leader for Rare Innovations. Who are you, and how are you feeling?”
“Wanda Edston. I’m improving, I can feel it. I’m not hungry anymore. What do I do now?” she asked.
“Right now, let’s get you checked out inside. I’ll stay with you until you tell me to stop, okay? Let’s get you up,” Shocker said. She and Grey helped Wanda to her feet.
“I didn’t know there were such good people to be found in the city. North Shore is not the best part of town,” Wanda said as she was helped to the hospital.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” Shocker asked.
“No, I’m not. I’m from Kallisaw, in the Western Territories. I wanted a career in performing arts, so I applied to the Sundowner School for Actors, got a position, and moved here at the start of semester. One thing the teachers are working hard with me on is my western accent. It’s not easy,” Wanda told Shocker.
“If I may ask, how did your clothes get shredded?” Breaker asked.
Wanda blushed bright under the lights of the admissions area. “I’d rather not say right now. I know WHAT happened, but not WHY. I have some ideas, but I’m not yet certain,” she said.
“That’s okay, Wanda. We won’t push,” Shocker said. “I would like to keep in touch with you, though.”
“I would like that, Shocker. This new electrical ability is going to be hard to manage,” Wanda said as they entered the emergency room. Shocker stayed with Wanda, while Breaker and Grey sought out Captain Proton.
The team wound up staying at the hospital until three in the morning, when the situation was declared under control and Doctor Sparkle released the team from duty. “Everyone, good work tonight, come in tomorrow night at six for a debriefing. Get some sleep, everyone!” Twilight said over their comm links.
“Yes, Doctor Sparkle!” Proton said before looking to his team. “Imago, take everyone home. I’ll fly and walk.”
“Let’s find a big enough mirror first, okay?” Imago asked.
Author's Note
Easing on down the road, eh? Even after Mayhem's signal was shut off earlier, some people are still under the influence. May they all recover soon.
Keep an eye on the main story to find out what the Alpha team was up to. They...
*Desmond's face gets blurred out as silence reigns for a second or two, then Morris, the producer, could be heard bellowing NO SPOILERS, Desmond!

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                       18: Acanthite                       
//-------------------------------------------------------//
18: Acanthite
Interurban Rapid Transit (IRT) Headquarters, Barbados, 3450 AE
Acanthite sat in the brilliant tropical sunshine, thinking. The chubby burnt-orange pelted unicorn with a black and silver two-toned mane and tail was quite on edge. He looked at his cutie mark, two concentric silver circles, and glancing up, he could just barely see the thin silver ribbon that spiraled up his black horn. “I wasn’t supposed to get the telegate spell, but I did. First case in family history where a unicorn that did not have a silver mark on their horn developed one when they got their cutie mark. I haven’t been trained in any of the operational aspects of the business, just finance, accounting and service work. I have a full destination list, dating all the way back to the family founder, Rapid Transit himself, way back to the time of the Event. Thrice-great has the rest of the Family Heads talking about what to do with me,” he thought as he looked down the slope of Mount Hillaby at Bridgetown, a thriving little community. The IRT family lived on and in the mountain, maintaining their world-wide network of telegates, available to any pony, if they can pay the price, the only exceptions being Family members and native Barbadians.
A voice intruded into Acanthite’s thoughts. “Thought I would find you here,” his cousin, Silent Strike, said as she settled down next to Acanthite, draping her right wing over Acanthite’s back. “Nervous?”
“You can say that. All my life, I’ve been derided as a late bloomer. Now, I got my mark, and something happened that has never happened before. What does it mean? Nobody can answer that,” Acanthite said, leaning against Strike’s side. The two cousins were about the same age, and have been quite close since they were foals.
“Just means you’re someone special. With this being the first occurrence of its kind since the Family was founded, all I can say this is your chance to show all the bullies you ARE worth something. You’re no support staff, now you can be an Operator. That’s more than any of the bullies can say, right?” Strike said, trying to encourage her cousin.
“They’ll just find something else to pick on me about. I’m fat, clumsy, and farther ahead in magic studies than any of them…” Acanthite said, some bitterness in his voice.
“Nonsense! Just because you can do something they can’t, or better than they can, they’re just trying to drag you down to their level. Just go in with your head held high and be proud you can be an Operator, when they can’t. We only have forty-two Operators to cover the planet. One more will be of great help,” Strike explained, hoping her words would penetrate into Acanthite’s skull.
“What can I do? Telegate them down to the shore? They have to go through the gate, not the other way round,” Acanthite explained.
“So? Think of how much money you can earn as an Operator. Who knows where you will be stationed, like maybe New Alexandria, New York, London, Las Vegas, Sydney or Brasilia. You’ll definitely be busy, for sure! Me, I just do weather patrol and security around the island. Rather exciting, yes?” Strike snorted.
“Maybe not, but it’s necessary. I know how hard you and all the pegasi worked last year when the hurricane neared. Plus when that one group tried to invade here. Your shooting was quite accurate.”
“Like I enjoy shooting ponies? If they were smart, they would know not to mess with us. Now, anypony who wants to go to Cuba has to pay triple normal rates, and we will not accept any offers to go FROM Cuba to anywhere, they have to boat to Key West.” Strike snapped back.
“So you think I’m not useless? That I can be something special?” Acanthite asked his cousin.
“I’ve thought that since we were foals, cousin. Just because you’re descended from Rapid Transit while I’m from Chopping Block’s line, (Rapid Transit having Returned five months after The Event, while Chopping Block, his father, didn’t Return until 125 or so years later) I have always thought of you as being special. A bit slow off the mark, but destined for greatness,” Strike explained, putting the depth of her feelings into her voice.
“I should not dread Testing, then? It’s not like Silver Scalpel would exile me if I don’t measure up to her standards, right?” Acanthite asked, some confidence coming back into his voice.
“Right! Even if you can’t handle the full roster of stops, ANY help would be appreciated. Have you tried the telegate yet?”
Acanthite shook his head, his black and silver mane flying about some. “No. I was told not to until testing can be arranged. It’s been what, three years now since the Testing Panel was convened?”
“Something like that. I would say don’t be scared, just go in and do what you can do. Just because you’re the first one in six generations in your family line does not mean you’re incapable. Just do your best. I do, and you can too.”
About then, Acanthite’s watch pinged. “Speaking of which, testing begins in ten minutes. I had best get my plot to the test area. Would not help me if I was late,” he said, getting up.
Silent Strike got up as well. “I’ll walk you to the gate, okay? I can’t go in, but I can go that far with you.”
“I would appreciate it, Cousin. I admit to being scared of what the testing would involve,” Acanthite muttered as he started walking down the side of the mountain.
“You can handle it. I have faith in you.”
The first part of testing involved site recognition, that being Acanthite was told to look at a series of photographs, and if he recognized the place, and he could feel he could gate there, he was to say so. Picture after picture, he was able to either identify the location, or say he didn’t know it. The panelists agreed with everything he said, admitting there are some pictures in there that are near, but not on, the destination lists.
This went on until a picture of a castle on the side of a mountain appeared on the page. Acanthite looked at it for a good twenty seconds before saying, “Canterlot Castle. I don’t know how or why I know it, but I do.”
The panelists were startled by the revelation, and broke out a book that was dusty with age, the pages brittle. “Look through these pictures and see if you can identify them,” he was told. Undaunted, he plunged in. “Ponyville Castle. Appleoosa Town. Seaquestria,” and so on, identifying all twenty locations.
“Acanthite, there is no way you should know these locations, because they are not on this planet. They are from Equestria, the source of the magic that changed all humans into ponies and whatnot three and a half millennia ago. Since you can identify them, can you go there and back again?” the panel leader, Silver Scalpel, asked.
“Going there, I’m reasonably certain. Coming back, I’m not so sure. I have not done any site recognition training here yet,” Acanthite admitted.
“Starting tomorrow, you and I will start local drilling, you and I telegating to various spots and back. If you are not sure of the return, that’s why I will be coming along. You have nothing to worry about, Acanthite,” Silver Scalpel told the young unicorn.
“If I may ask, why do you have those pictures of Equestria?” Acanthite asked.
“There is a family prophecy that one day, one of the Family will have the ability to telegate not only around the Earth, but to other locales as well. You are the first pony to recognize Canterlot Castle since the book was obtained millennia ago, thanks to the assistance of Archive,” another panel member, Silver Blaze, said. Archive is Earth’s resident alicorn, and was the only pony known to have gone to Equestria and back, when ponies first appeared.
“If it is a family prophecy, why didn’t I know about it?” Acanthite asked.
“Because the secret is tightly held, only Operators of the telegates knowing about it. It was decided long ago not to let the rank and file know of it,” Silver Scalpel explained.
“Thinking about it, I can understand why. Why get ponies’ hopes up for something that may not happen in their lifetimes?” Acanthite said.
“Thus showing your intelligence, young stallion. Despite your inauspicious start, you do have the potential to become a Prime Mover in the Family,” the third member of the panel, Silver Arcade, said with a smile. That surprised Acanthite, because the older unicorn was not known to smile at any time.
“I will do my best to live up to your expectations,” Acanthite said. “Will there be anything more today?”
“No, that will be all for today. Do not tell anypony about what happened here. Nopony is to know the Testing procedure unless they go through it themselves, especially the Equestria pictures. Understand?” Silver Scalpel said severely, in tones that Acanthite knew meant she was not to be crossed.
“I understand, Elder,” Acanthite said quietly before walking to the testing room door, opening it with his glow and going through.
Outside, Silent Strike was waiting, her white mane and wings glittering in the sunlight, her sky-blue fur shining. “How it go?” she asked.
“I start training tomorrow on site recognition. Since I have not had to do anything like it before, I will be escorted in the drills by Silver Scalpel,” Acanthite said quietly.
“Wow- high-power help! You had best pay attention, or else she will flay you to your bones, or wish she did,” Silent Strike replied. “Let’s go get something to eat. Knowing you, you can use something.”
“You’re right, I do. After that, a good sleep.”
Acanthite did just that, having one of his normal meals (which are one and a half times a normal unicorn’s portions, but the cooks were used to it), before going back to his quarters, where he told his parents about the testing to take place tomorrow. They were quite pleased to hear he had passed, because the addition of an Operator’s income, even the juniormost, will add a lot to the family budget. He then went straight to his room, to study some before going to sleep.
The next morning, bright and early, Silver Scalpel met with Acanthite, taking him to the outdoor  
‘reception area’, where all incoming telegates from the Family arrive. The only time they would use the indoor one is in case of prolonged storms. “Are you ready, Acanthite?” she said.
“I am ready, Silver Scalpel. What is the first target?”
“Let’s try something simple at first. Las Vegas Receiving Area One. The Strat Tower is quite distinctive,” she suggested.
“Okay!” Acanthite said. Mentally, he pictured what he was told, the Strat Tower in Las Vegas. He then called up the family spell and applied power to it. A silver beam came from his horn and spread into a silver disc, ten feet in diameter, partially sunk into the ground. Silver Scalpel trotted through, followed by Acanthite. The Operator is always the last to go through a telegate, because the spell collapses when he or she does.
Acanthite stepped onto a platform of smooth rock, the Strat Tower visible in the early morning light off in the distance. “Very well done, Acanthite! How do you feel?” Silver Scalpel asked.
“A bit tired, but that normally happens when I try a difficult spell for the first time. Give me about ten minutes and I can try again,” was his reply.
“One thing I noticed when you activated the telegate. Your cutie mark glowed a bright silver. I don’t know of any case where that happened before.”
“I hope that does not mean trouble, Elder.”
“I hope so, too. Rest a bit, then we will try Nueva Angeles next.”
That whole morning, Acanthite drilled under Silver Scalpel’s watchful eye, visiting thirty destinations in six hours, the last one being Mount Hillaby in Barbados, where the Family living and IRT corporate headquarters are located. “That was very well done, Acanthite. Take the rest of the day off to rest and recover. Only under extreme situations should you be called upon to open so many gates in such a short amount of time. I’m proud of what you have done today,” Silver Scalpel said to the much younger unicorn.
“Thank you, Elder Scalpel. May I prove to be a true asset for the Company and family,” Acanthite said respectfully. It was almost a family ritual to say something of that nature when an Elder compliments a junior.
“I think you will. You have exceeded expectations today. We will call you tomorrow for more testing. Dismissed.”
Not wanting to show weakness or weariness in front of the Elder, Acanthite quickly trotted off to the dining hall, where he had a big meal (even for him) before heading to the family apartment and his room to sleep. His sleep was restless, images on his destination list coming to mind, both the ones he visited that day and ones he did not. The Equestrian destinations came to mind a lot, Canterlot Castle appearing the most often.
When his mother went to check on him, she found Acanthite on his hooves, his cutie mark pulsing a bright silver. “I’m being called…” he breathed, his eyes glassy as he projected a telegate and stepped into it, the telegate collapsing after he went through.
When Acanthite woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he was cold. Opening his eyes, he got his first shock when he saw he was not a pony, he was human! The skin is the same color as his pelt, his hair, from what he could tell, was black like his mane, he was naked and he was COLD! Looking around, all he could see was wreckage. What appeared to be some sort of control panel was there, with a hole burned through it. A multi-gimballed apparatus sat idle, and the room itself had more than one gaping hole in the walls and roof. “This sure as hell isn’t Canterlot Castle!” he muttered as he tried to get up. He knew humans walked upright, but never saw one in his life. He crawled to a wall and used it as a support to get to his feet.
“Time to go home,” he said as he summoned up a telegate, visualizing the Mount Hillaby reception station. What felt like an electric spark striking his horn hit him, and he fell to his knees, skinning them some. “That didn’t work… but why?”
Captain Proton, the Rare Innovations Beta-team leader, was overflying the ruins of Canterlot High. Some time earlier, the villains known as Malcontent and Mayhem were brought to heel here by the Rare Innovations Alpha-team, and Malcontent’s plans were brought to a rather rough conclusion. Mayhem was captured, but Malcontent got away somehow. Proton didn’t know, he wasn’t there to see the battle, something he was quite happy to have missed. He wasn’t Alpha caliber yet, and knew it. The city is in recovery and rebuilding after the night of rioting, brought on by Mayhem’s planting of a signal in the main television and radio broadcasts that induced behaviors in those who heard it that led to rioting. They are still counting the dead, wounded and damages to Equestrian City.
Proton drew the overflight duty because of his suit, a Wonderbolt suit of armor modified for his unique circumstances, that being he is paralyzed from the waist down due to a broken back incurred by the Canterlot Catastrophe ten years before, which let magic run free on this world. The concentrations of magic here, so close to Ground Zero, were unhealthy for most humans and fatal to a few. His suit filtered out the dust that bore the magic, leaving him unaffected. If anything DID get through, his meta talent, a force field that surrounded his body at will, should be enough to protect him for a time. Time enough to get clear, at least.
As he flew, his suit scanners pinged, getting his attention. “Where did that come from?” he asked as he brought himself to a landing outside the gymnasium. He activated his comm system. “Captain Proton to Base,” he called out.
“This is Spike. Go ahead, Captain.”
“Spike, I’m at the Canterlot High gymnasium. I was doing a security sweep, when I started detecting life signs in the gym. I’m going to head in to investigate.”
“You go ahead, Captain. I’ll notify Doctor Sparkle. Monitoring your telemetry.”
“Copy that, Spike,” Proton said as he walked to a hole in the wall. He put a finger around the wall, using the inbuilt camera to get a visual. Matching the location of the life sign is a teenage boy with orange skin and black and silver hair. The boy is naked and quite the fat fellow for his age. “Spike, you copy my images?”
“Captain, this is Doctor Sparkle. Go in and help the kid. You do have an emergency kit, yes?” she asked.
Proton sighed. “Yes, Doctor. I have a full emergency kit, including a mylar blanket. Notify Imago to be on standby. She will be faster getting him to safety, if she can pick him up.”
“I’ll do that, Captain. You see to him. How the hell did he get in there?” Sparkle asked.
“That’s what I would like to know, too. I’ll go ask him.” Proton stepped through the hole and activated his external audio. “Hello, there! What’s your name?” he called out.
Acanthite looked blearily at the thing that was approaching him. The failed telegate spell had jarred his magics, and he was not sure of what he was seeing. It stood on two feet, and had two hands, like a human, as well as being very tall. “A-a-acan-thite,” he managed to stammer.
The thing hurried over to him. It had some sort of uniform painted on the ...armor?... it was wearing. “I’m Captain Proton, Rare Innovations Beta-team leader. You may want this,” it said as he shook out something thin and glittering, tucking it around Acanthite’s naked body. “This will help you warm up some. Can you get up and walk, if you lean against me? I’m going to get you to safety.”
“I’ll try,” Acanthite said as he wrapped the mylar blanket tightly around him. Proton helped Acanthite stand, then did a slow walk out of the wrecked gymnasium towards a locker room.
“How did you get here, Acanthite?” Proton asked gently as they walked, Proton careful to avoid anything that would cut the boys’ feet.
“Tried to telegate to Canterlot Castle. Wound up here. Why am I a human being, not a unicorn?” Acanthite asked.
“You’re a unicorn? I know someone who would love to talk to you. She’s my boss, Doctor Sparkle. If she gets too techy for you, ask her to slow down. We just have to find an intact mirror large enough for you and Imago.” Proton said.
“Mirror? Why a mirror?” Acanthite asked in a mumble. His head hurt and he was tired.
“Imago can travel through the Mirrorverse, going from one place to another far faster than any other means. If she can lift you, that is. She should. If she can pick up her fiance, she can pick you up and carry you to Headquarters, where you can be seen to.”
“I would like that a lot, Captain. My head hurts a lot. Hard to concentrate. I hate it when my magic backfires on me. I don’t know where I am, but I’m not home,” Acanthite mumbled, his energies fading fast.
“Hang on, new friend. Help is on its way,” Proton said encouragingly.
“Imago to Captain Proton,” he heard in his helmet speakers.
“Go ahead, Imago. Where are you?”
“Girls locker room. There’s a suitable mirror there. What do you have for me?”
“Male, about fifteen, five eight, two fifty or so. He’s losing consciousness, more than likely from exhaustion. We need to get him to Doctor Sparkle,” Proton said as he scooped Acanthite into his arms and walked faster to the girls locker room. Having attended the school, graduating thirteen years before, he knew where it was.
Imago met Proton at the door and walked him to the mirror. “Where did he come from?” she asked.
“Not from here. Says his name is Acanthite, and he did something called a telegate, trying for someplace called Canterlot Castle. He wound up here, more than likely because of Malcontent’s actions here a while back,” Proton said as he got the boy set on Imago’s back.
“I’ll get him to the Tower. You continue surveillance,” Imago said before stepping into the mirror and vanishing from sight, her ‘tail lights’ fading quickly.
“Will do, Imago,” Proton said before heading back to the gym and resuming his patrol.
Acanthite woke up to find he was in a bed, wires stuck to him, and someone looking at him from a chair, where she was working on something she was holding. She looked up when he moved. “Hi, Acanthite! I’m Doctor Twilight Sparkle, head of research and development here at Rare Innovations. How are you feeling?” the lavender-skinned lady asked.
“Not as tired as before, warm, and more than a bit hungry. What happened to me?” he asked after a few second’s thought.
“That’s what I’m hoping you tell me. Why don’t you tell me all about yourself and how you got here? I’ll listen while you eat, okay?” Twilight said as a cart rolled in, bearing juice, toast and a large bowl of oatmeal. “What’s this about you being a unicorn?”
Between bites, Acanthite told Twilight of his world, how The Event almost three and a half thousand years before changed all human beings into ponies and other assorted forms. He told of his family's proclivity to open ‘telegates’, allowing instantaneous transport from where they were to another place that was known to the caster. “Only unicorns with silver in their horns get the spell, which is learned when they get their cutie marks. I got mine a couple of days ago, and when I did, a silver stripe appeared on my horn and I learned the telegate spell. Apparently, this Canterlot place had sent help, because we had some pictures of places in Canterlot, like the castle, Ponyville, and other sites. I was the first pony ever who could identify them. I tried to telegate to Canterlot Castle, and I wound up here, changed into this form. What happened?”
“I don’t know for sure, Acanthite, but I think it has something to do with what happened there a few days ago. A madman tried to open a portal between dimensions, which could have destroyed this world. He was stopped, but not without cost. Maybe someday you can meet the ones who stopped him. They’re all friends of mine,” Twilight said.
“Oh, my. Powerful friends you have. What’s going to happen to me, since I can’t go home yet,” he asked.
“For now, you’ll stay here at Rare Innovations while you get educated on what’s what and who’s who here. I know you can do it. I did, ten years ago.”
“You did? How?”
Twilight explained about how she was from Canterlot and came here through a portal, to visit friends she had made here. Something happened, which caused magic to flood through this world. “I was an alicorn there, and when I was stuck here, I couldn’t use my magic until I found a way to work around the block. Now, why don’t you tell me about your magic?”
Acanthite explained how he was an excellent magic student, learning the basics while young and was taking advanced studies in magic. “I wasn’t a superstar, but I was definitely better than average,” he said before explaining about what spells he knew, not only basic telekinesis and light, but higher-level detection, purification, preservation and divination spells. “My ancestor developed a spell many unicorns learn, that allows a pony to search a warehouse for a particular item, so long as the pony knows what they are looking for.”
“That sounds interesting. Maybe you can teach it to me?” Twilight asked.
“I will, if I can still do magic here. You were an alicorn? There’s only one on Earth, Princess Archive. She’s been there since The Event. I have not met her, but others of the Family have,” Acanthite told Twilight as he ate.  
“You should be able to do magic now. You’ve been asleep for over a day. I suspect that was from the backfiring spell. Try lifting your spoon as if you were a unicorn,” Twilight suggested.
Acanthite nodded and looked at his spoon. A dim silver glow, coming from a silver spot that appeared on his forehead, surrounded the utensil as it lifted off the tray, dipped into the porridge, then went to his mouth. “That feels just fine.”
“Good! Up to do some testing?” Twilight said brightly.
“Sure, once you get these things off of me,” he said, indicating the electrodes on his chest and head.
“Okay!” Swiftly, Twilight removed the electrodes and helped Acanthite out of bed. He found he was wearing some sort of cloth around the lower part of his body. When he asked, Twilight explained about clothing, and how humans wore clothing all the time. After that, the two started drilling with magic, Acanthite demonstrating what he could do with the spells he knew. Some proved impossible to do, like his telegate when he focused on going home, but when he changed the focus to across the room, it worked.
That set the pattern for the next few days, Twilight showing Acanthite the human world, and Acanthite showing Twilight what he could do with his magic. Acanthite proved a quick study, both learning about the human world he was in, and what computers here could do, which was more than what they could do in his world. “Writing a computer program is like designing a spell, just differing in how it works,” he observed on the third day.
“Good observation, Acanthite!” Twilight said with pride. “I learned the same thing, and it helped me achieve and excel here.”
“I like learning from you, Doctor Sparkle. You don’t make me feel insignificant. Back home I was often taunted for being a nerd. Good thing I had some relatives who really cared,” Acanthite told Twilight.
“Believe me, I understand your feelings, Acanthite. I was similar, but Princess Celestia ordered me to Ponyville to get my nose out of books and learn to make friends. What’s surprising is I found analogues of all my main friends here, and we’re still good friends. You’ve met one of them, Rarity Belle.
“Around here, we don’t tease people, we get along with them. Which brings up something, that being what to do with you, Acanthite.” Twilight told the boy.
“What to do with me? What do you mean?” Acanthite asked.
“I don’t want to keep you here in the Tower all the time. You need time outside it as well. To that end, this is what I have arranged for you.
“You are to come here five days a week for education purposes. You will be doing that until you can pass all the graduation requirements. If it takes you six months, I’ll be pleased. If it takes a year, I’ll be disappointed. Some of the time, I will be teaching you. The rest of the time, I have arranged tutors in various fields.
“Now, when you are not in school, I have arranged for you to stay with two people I know who work for me, one directly, one indirectly. They will introduce you to life outside Rare Innovations, as well as introducing you to some other people you should know, specifically my Beta Team.”
“Beta team? Captain Proton and Imago? The two who found and rescued me?” Acanthite interrupted, surprise evident on his face and in his voice.
“Correct, Acanthite. You will know who they really are, and I can trust you not to say anything about them to blow their covers, right?” Twilight said, a warning clearly evident.
“You can trust me, Doctor Sparkle. I will NOT violate your trust in me,” Acanthite said earnestly.
“Good. Now, do you remember what to say if someone asks you where you are from?” she asked, one eyebrow arched.
Acanthite nodded. “I was orphaned in the rioting, was found by the Beta Team, injured, and brought to the Tower for evaluation until foster parentage could be arranged. I don’t remember clearly what happened before the riots.”
“Very good, Acanthite. Your foster father will be here in an hour or so, when he gets off duty. Just go ahead and surf the web until he gets here.”
“I can do that, Doctor Sparkle. Thanks again for all you’re doing for me,” Acanthite said, respect obvious in his tones.
“I know where you’re coming from, Acanthite. I went through it, too. No sense in you having the same troubles I did. I’ll see you Monday morning, okay?” Twilight told him before rushing out of the room.
It was about an hour later when a knock came from the closed door. Opening the door, Acanthite found a tall reddish-haired, bronzed-skinned man waiting there. He WOULD be tall, if he was not sitting in a wheelchair. “Hello, Acanthite! I’m Doctor Wave Rider, your foster father for the next however long. Got your bags packed?”
Acanthite pointed to the bed, where a duffle and his computer bag waited. “All I have to do is shut down and pack the computer. Won’t be a couple of minutes,” he said, backing into the room so Doctor Rider could enter.  
“That's all you have?” Wave said, a bit surprised. “Looks like we’re going to have to do some shopping!”
“Shopping? What for?” Acanthite asked.
“Mainly clothes and other stuff for you. What you have there is no wardrobe for a teenager,” Wave said, pointing at Acanthite’s small duffle. “Time to fit you out properly! Oh, do you like cats?”
“Cats? Depends on if they like me or not, Doctor,” Acanthite said as he shut off his laptop and put it (and the power cable, trackball and portable keyboard) into its carry bag.
“Freckles and Starshine are nice kitties. They should like you. Oh, when we’re in private, call me ‘Wave’. Otherwise, use ‘sir’. ‘Doctor’ is too damn formal. I’m supposed to be your foster father, and my sister, Sand Castle, your foster mother. Now, shall we go?” Wave asked.
“Ready when you are, Wave.” he said after a few second’s hesitation.
“That’s the spirit! Let’s get a move on!”
Three hours, four hundred bucks, five stops and a bunch of shopping bags later, Wave pulled up in front of his house. “Let me show you which room is yours, and once you get everything put away, I’ll give you a tour of the house. Sister isn’t home yet, because her van is not here.”
“Riding in your car is an experience. Not many where I’m from, and I never been in one,” Acanthite said as he climbed out, duffle and computer bag in hand.
“THAT, is a subject for closed doors, Canth. Now, let me get to the door and unlock it. Good thing we have spare keys,” Wave said as he activated the lift that took his wheelchair out of the van.
“I understand, sir,” Canth said, realizing the mistake he had made.
“One thing to understand, Canth, is that secrets are meant to be kept, which means you do not give voice to them unless you are in a secure area, like in the house, the vans, or Rare Innovations. If, no, WHEN your origin gets out, expect a LOT of flak coming down from the Confederacy government, plus, you will be a target the Sombran Empire and the Symmetry Dominion would both want, to find out how you operate. It’s up to me, and the teams at Rare Innovations, to not only keep you safe, but teach you how to keep yourself safe. It won’t be easy, but it can be done,” Wave said seriously as he was removed from the van and placed on the ground.
“Why do you say that, Wave?” Canth asked.
“When you meet the Beta team, you will understand. Some of them are working on getting themselves into condition, so they can be more effective while on duty,” Wave explained as he rolled up to the door and unlocked it. When the door swung open, Freckles and Starshine immediately pounced on Wave, climbing his legs to his lap, mewing happily.
With a smile, Wave petted both kitties before rolling inside, Canth following. When the door shut, the kitties immediately turned their attention to Canth. At Wave’s gesture, Canth carefully reached out to let the kitties sniff him. It took only one sniff for Starshine to hunker down, wiggle her butt and poing into Canth’s arms. “Starshine, you little attention whore…” Wave laughed as he petted Freckles.
“This means they like me, right?” Canth asked. “We have cats at the Family compound, but I was never close to any of them.”
“Yes, they like you, Starshine especially. Now, put her down and follow me to what will be your room, then you unload the van and put your stuff away. After that, the Grand Tour.”
Canth looked around the house, noticing all the leather straps hanging from the ceiling. “What are these for?” he asked, touching one.
“I’ll show you,” Wave said, maneuvering his chair to its parking spot and plugging it in before undoing his lap belt. He then reached for the nearest strap and pulled himself up out of the chair. “This is how I get around the house without my chair. I was a champion athlete before I got injured, and I’ve kept myself in shape despite not being able to move my legs,” he explained as he brachiated to the kitchen table and settled into a chair.
“I’m impressed, Wave. Now, which room is mine?” Canth asked.
Wave pointed to the hall. “All the way to the end, on the right. That room will be yours, and I will not violate your privacy unless it is truly necessary. Then again, those two own the place, no matter what I say…” he grumbled, looking at Freckles and Starshine, who had their best innocent angel faces on.
“Let me get started,” Canth said as he went to his room. There, he put his duffle and computer bags on the bed before going out to get the rest of his shopping, which took two trips. On his second trip, Wave told him, “Just set everything in your room. Stow it later. We need to chat.”
Canth did as he was bid and returned to the kitchen. “Go ahead, help yourself if you want anything,” Wave said, waving to the kitchen with one hand while holding an orange section in the other. Canth selected a couple of apples and sat down across from Wave. “What do you need to talk about, Wave?”
“I see the cuts on your feet and knees have healed, and you are walking all right,” Wave said calmly.
“How do you know I had cuts on my feet and knees? Doctor Sparkle tell you?”
“No, I was the one who found you. Yes, I’m not only Doctor Wave Rider, Assistant Head of Research and Development for Rare Innovations, I’m also Captain Proton, leader of the Beta team,” Wave said before eating an orange slice.
Canth sat there, holding an apple, startled. “But, Captain Proton could walk! He carried me! How can you walk?” he asked.
“Special circuitry and electrodes in the armor bypass the break in my spine and enable me to walk. I can also fly, if I want to. Right now it’s limited, but the Mark Three will have full Wonderbolt flight capacity, as well as the full offensive and defensive armament. Mine has to be custom, because I’m a few inches taller than average when standing,” Wave explained. “You said you were trying for Canterlot Castle. Twilight knows of it, but I don’t.”
“From our discussions, we think the Canterlot I was aiming for is not the one she came from, because she has no knowledge of what we call The Event, what turned humans into ponies. She also does not know of the alicorn I know of, named Archive, who remembers all of human history, or so I have learned,” Acanthite told his foster father.
“Multiple universes… something my doctoral degree does not cover. I’m a roboticist, not a physicist. We’ll just set that aside for now. My sister won’t be home until late tonight, she was recalled by the city Building Inspector’s office to help out after the combat last week. She’s very good at finding if a building is sound or not.”
“Does she know of the Beta Team?” Canth asked.
“Yes, she does. In fact, she’s my second-in-command, code named Shocker. She has electrical talents, as in she can generate a lot of electricity at once, to either power something, make a stun field, or a potent lightning bolt. She does require a lot of citrus juice, though.” Wave explained.
“I can imagine,” Canth said. “Who else is there? I remember Imago. She brought me to Doctor Sparkle through a mirror.” He shivered some at the memory. “That was the weirdest feeling I ever felt.”
“I know. I’ve been through it myself. One thing that Doctor Sparkle and I are hoping for is that your telegates will speed up our response times to problem situations. You’re going to have to pass Doctor Sparkle’s classes first. You’ll go to and from work with me until you can telegate there and back on your own.”
“That should not take long. I know THERE, but I have to learn HERE before I can go both ways,” Canth said, putting a finger on the table.
“How long will it take for you to learn here?” Wave asked.
Acanthite looked thoughtful for a moment. “Should not be more than a few days. When I can close my eyes and call up a mental picture of where I want to go, then I know I have that stop memorized. That’s how it was explained to me.”
“You only just learned to telegate a few days ago, right?”
“Yes, Wave. They didn’t think I could learn to telegate, because I didn’t have silver in my horn. When I got my cutie mark, a silver stripe appeared on the horn, and I KNEW I could telegate. I learned a lot of spells before that, like cleaning, conjuring, preservation, heat and cold, shields, inventory, and some other things. Maybe some can be useful to the Beta Team.”
“Shields? We’re going to have to check that out, but later. I can raise a shield around myself, and Grey can summon up a shield like the old time soldiers used. Shielding is good to have,” Wave told the boy. “Saved me from being gunned down a while back.”
“That must be some story, Wave,” Canth said with a touch of eagerness.
“It is.” For several hours, the two sat there in the kitchen, swapping stories, learning about each other, fending off kitty attacks, and preparing dinner together before Sand Castle got home. Wave got his laptop, and he showed Canth the rest of Beta Team, explaining who they were, what they could do, and what to expect from them, because Breaker and Grey Man, along with himself and Doctor Sparkle, will be his instructors at Rare Innovations, plus whoever else she could find.
“Since you’re part of Beta team, it stands to reason there is an Alpha team. Who are they?” Canth asked.
“I can show you, but I have to say I do not know their private names. I can show you the public release data, but I can’t tell you any more. I have not really met any of them, though some of the Beta Team has.” Wave pulled up the public files of the Six, Splitsecond, Shadowstrike, Phoenix, Impervia, Flutterbat and Matterhorn.
“I see Matterhorn’s armor resembles yours. Why is that?” Canth asked.
Wave thought a little. “I know Doctor Sparkle knows Matterhorn, so it would not surprise me if she made the armor, like she made mine. It’s different, I don’t know how different. I know she can fly more than I can, but I’ll change that in the next upgrade.”
“Interesting. I’m looking forward to learning. Every time I think of home, I can feel something holding me back, so, if I’m going to be here, I had better do the best I can.”
“With that attitude, Canth, you’re going to go far.” Wave said with a little pride. This kid has smarts, as well as talents that can be of help. He looked forward to teaching Acanthite.
Author's Note
Finally, after three years, da boss has allowed me to post this. For fans of my work (I know you're out there...) Acanthite is from a couple hundred years after Hal Sleet, thirty-five hundred years from Rapid Transit, dropped into EQC. Now, up to me to develop him properly.
Now that this is out, I can continue on with Back Roads. Lots of stories await.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                     01- Blaise Arrow                      
//-------------------------------------------------------//
01- Blaise Arrow
Three years after the Canterlot High Catastrophe  
Blaise Arrow’s eyes opened, looking at the white ceiling. His head, he could tell, was wrapped in bandages, he could hear a beeping behind him to his left, presumably a pulse monitor. He found his head was being held in place by what he could only figure were sandbags. Slowly raising his arms, he found tubes leading into both of them, two on the left and one on the right. “I am in a hospital,” he thought, “not the hospital on base, either. Where am I and what happened?”
It took a moment or two for him to realize something. “I am in bed, in a hospital, with my head wrapped up. Why do I not feel worried or even concerned? I do not even feel anxious. I hope a doctor comes in soon.”
It was only a moment or so later when a nurse came into the room. As she leaned over him to check the monitor stand, Blaise managed to speak. “Excuse me, but where am I and how did I come to be here?” he asked the pretty nurse in his native Eastern language, the nurse having whitish skin and mixed yellow and pink hair.
The nurse gasped at his words, not expecting him to be awake. “The doctor should explain that, sir. I can say you have been here for twenty-four days after being flown here from the Eastern Empire. You needed specialized care that is only available here,” she told him in passable Eastern
“Just where is here, Miss June Flower?” Blaise asked, reading her nametag.
“Summer Haven Neurological Hospital, in Equestria City. If you will wait for a few moments, I will let the doctor know you are awake,” June said, noting something down on a clipboard she was holding.
“I can wait. It is apparent that I should not move or attempt to get out of bed at this time. Therefore, I will not,” Blaise said, his voice a bit raspy but sounding unconcerned.
“Be right back,” June said before leaving. Blaise lay there, looking up at the ceiling, waiting. It was less than a minute later when a doctor came in, a tall yellow-skinned man with short orange-red hair.
“Staff Sergeant Arrow, I am Doctor Trimline, chief neurologist. Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?” the doctor asked, in Equestrian, which Blaise could understand, if not exactly speak well.
“My squad and I were going out to check a mobile missile battery. It had just arrived from the factory, and we were to do inspections. Did something go wrong?” Blaise asked, sounding unconcerned, responding in the Eastern tongue.
“I should say so, Sergeant,” Doctor Trimline said, pulling up a chair to sit next to Blaise’s bed. He did pour a cup of water and gave it to Blaise, with a straw. “You are going to need this.”
Blaise first sipped some of the water, then drank the whole glass down. “You are correct, Doctor, I did need that. Just what did happen?”
“Your squad started checking the electronics on the missile battery. From what we could tell, one of your privates hooked up something wrong, and something detonated. Fortunately, whatever it was did not detonate properly. The blast propelled shrapnel into your brain and skull. You were comatose when you were brought here. I led the surgical team that removed the shrapnel and put your skull back together, with some plastic lamellar pieces added for additional strength.”
Blaise listened to the doctor’s recitation, his expression not changing. “Can you tell me what happened to the rest of the squad?” he asked.
Doctor Trimline sighed. “You are the only survivor. You were thrown clear, but you still suffered a lot of damage. Honestly, we were not sure if you would wake up.”
“How much damage, Doctor? Will I be able to function in the Army, or will I have to change my specialty?” Blaise asked.
“Pieces of shrapnel did penetrate your brain in seven places, going from left to right. Your skull was broken on the left side, but you did not break the skin or scalp significantly, enabling the medical team to evacuate you without your brains falling out.
“First thing you will have to do is undergo some therapy, to see if there are any physical remainders of the brain damage. As to the military, that is not up to me. Let us see how you respond to the therapy first,” the doctor concluded.
Blaise laid there for a moment, looking at the ceiling, thinking about what he was told. “No one from the squad survived?” he finally asked.
“No one. They were closer to the malfunctioning missile and took the full brunt of the blast.”
“That is not good. Their families should be notified. Can you tell me if it has been done?”
“As far as I know, it has,” Doctor Trimline said with a sigh. “My army days were years ago, and that is standard procedure. Your family should have been notified as well.”
“I do not have any, Doctor. My parents died in a car crash shortly after I went to Missile Technologies school. I stayed in the Army because I have no place left to go. So, here I am.”
“Yes, here you are. Now that you are awake and conscious, I can remove your bandaging and remove your IV drips. Later, we will start physical therapy,” Doctor Trimline said, putting down his notepad and picking a small set of scissors from the tools in his white coat pocket. “Just hold still while I loosen these.”
“I shall do so, Doctor.” Blaise did just that, following all of the doctor’s instructions to the letter while his bandages and IV’s were removed. He was given a mirror to examine his head wounds.   
Blaise could see his skin tone, a charcoal gray color, did look the same, some golden-yellow beard stubble showing. His head was shaved, again with golden-yellow stubble, but the scars from the surgery were of a pale gray color, easily visible. Some scars also showed on his left ear, which appeared intact.
“It is hoped your hair will grow out to cover the scars, in time,” Doctor Trimline said when Blaise put the mirror down.
“If I let my hair grow out. That is to be determined by what the Army desires I do after this.”
“That is true. Go ahead and order what you desire from our menu. You are not under any dietary restrictions,” the doctor advised, tidying up the bandage mess.
Blaise did not answer until the doctor was about to leave the room. “I am uncertain if I desire anything at all. Require, yes. Desire, I do not yet know.”
Four months after the missile battery blast, back in the Sombran Empire.
Staff Sergeant Arrow stood at attention in front of the desk of Fort Brave Heart’s commanding general’s desk. “Staff Sergeant Arrow reporting as ordered, sir!”
General Standing Wave returned the salute crisply. Well, as crisply as one could with an artificial arm. “At ease, Sergeant. Do sit down. I am to remind you that some matters we are about to discuss are not to be spoken about outside this room.”
Blaise sat down in the chair, back straight, as if he was still standing. “Understood, General.”  
General Standing Wave opened a thick folder on his desk. The fact that it was a folder, and not a computer file, emphasized the confidentiality order. That, and the red and white tape on the borders of the manila folder. “Sergeant, I have here your therapy reports from the hospital. It shows you have no long-term physical or intellectual disabilities remaining, but there is one glaring one that will make you unable to remain in the Army. That is your complete lack of any emotions whatsoever.”
Blaise looked at the General impassively. “I am aware that such a lack will make it difficult to be an effective leader of troops, either in schooling or out in the field,” he said.  
The General nodded, looking back at the fit young man sitting across the desk. “I am pleased you can realize the difficulties. That is why that, as of this coming Friday, you are going to be discharged from the Army on a full medical discharge. You will also be promoted to Sergeant First Class as of now, which will increase your disability payments.
“You are also going to undergo retraining in another field of work, one that will minimize your contact with the public. All the reports I have of you indicate that your emotionlessness makes many people uncomfortable to be around you for any great length of time. I know this is being worded poorly, but do you have any preferences on what field of work you would like to be employed in?” the General asked.
Blaise made no reaction to the choice of words. “What would be most logical, given how I affect others, would be to be placed in some sort of corporate technical position, able to use my knowledge of electronics, computer repair, and engineering. I have no preference to which corporation, or where.
“I realize that on full disability, I would most likely not need to work, but that would not be logical at all. I am still alive, I am and always will be a soldier, and soldiers do not remain idle one second more than necessary,” he said in his emotionless voice.
“That is correct, Sergeant First Class. Once a soldier, always a soldier in one’s heart. Fortunately, my injuries allowed me to stay in and pursue my career. Your injuries do not allow that.”
The General flipped some more pages in the thick file. “Yes. About the blast that injured you and killed your squad. The missile battery was new, freshly delivered from the factory. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, General. My squad was assigned to do final acceptance checks. It did not pass.”
“Thank you, Sergeant Obvious,” the General said sarcastically. The sarcasm did not register on Blaise’s face. “Yes, it did not pass. Subsequent examinations showed the not only was that particular battery defective, the whole production run showed the same defect, meaning that under testing, the units would randomly trigger an explosion somewhere in the missile systems, either the warhead or the rocket motors.
“Now, that information is to remain classified, Sergeant. NO ONE outside this room now is to be told of the results of the investigation. Is that understood?” the General said in a tone of voice that demanded compliance.
Blaise stared back at the General. “Understood, sir. I am not even permitted to talk about it in my sleep or in my dreams, if I had any, which I do not,” he said in his bland tones, but the General could tell looking into Blaise’s amber eyes, that he would do as ordered.  
“Yes. To that end, a sum of five million dollars will be deposited to an account which you will have access to at your discretion, in addition to your disability pay and any other disbursements you will be due.
“Report back to your barracks and wait there. Someone from Separations will be there within an hour to start the process of not only separating you, but placing you in a job, training, and housing. Remember your orders, soldier!”
Blaise stood up from the chair. “I will remember them, General. It has been an honor to serve under you. May we meet again sometime.”
“Dismissed, Sergeant Arrow.” Blaise pivoted precisely, then exited the room. General Standing Wave shuddered some once the door to his office shut. “I cannot tell if he is a man or a machine, just by looking at him. Hope he has a good life.”
Six years after the Canterlot Disaster
Blaise Arrow was placed in Equestria City, working as a technician for Silver Innovations. He had a modest car, a modest apartment, and lived a quiet life. When Silver Innovations merged with Rare Debonair to form Rare Innovations, Blaise went along with the merger. His evaluations were always near the top of the charts, but few ever sought him out for anything more than work related activities, and he never reached out. He was a no-show for any social event the companies held, either taking an extra shift so someone else could attend or ignoring the parties entirely.
If anyone could be considered a friend of Blaise’s, it had to be Rip Current, one of his co-workers in the Technology Department. Rip Current was a former Navy engineer, who mustered out after feeling that he was being denied a chance to move up the ranks. While Rip Current was a technician on par with Blaise Arrow, he did not shun social events, he just chose to go to only a few of them. The chunky green-skinned and pale blue haired fellow accepted Blaise for what he was, and did not try to change him, unlike many others at work, who generally gave up in disgust at Blaine’s unemotional reactions to their attempts to get him to socialize.
Blaise’s car was in for repairs one cold winter’s week, and he had arranged with Rip to be given rides to and from home and work. Blaise insisted that Rip pick him off and drop him off about a mile from his apartment, because that way Rip would not have to make a detour. Rip made his customary one attempt to try to get Blaise to change his mind, then acquiesced.
Blaise was walking home from the drop off point when he was jumped by not one, but two muggers, bundled from head to foot against the cold and snow. “Okay, you! What you have, we want, so give it all up now and we won’t mess you up too much!” one of his attackers said to him, definitely a female.
Blaise just looked at the pair dispassionately. “No,” he said as he started walking again.
“You don’t talk to us that way, buster!” the other thug, also female, snapped out, drawing a pistol while her partner drew a rather large knife.
Blaise stopped, turned, and looked at the pair. “I talk the way I want to who I want when I want. Attacking me would be foolish,” he told them, face and voice again dispassionate.
“We’re in charge here!” the one with the knife snapped as she charged at Blaise.
Blaise raised his hands, prepared to defend himself, when an ashen-gray glow appeared around his hands. Something resembling a pistol crossbow appeared in his left hand, while a small shield appeared in his right. He blocked the charging mugger with the shield, sending her into a snowdrift, while firing at the one with the gun.
Blaise watched as a grayish-white bolt flew from the crossbow, flying directly to the second mugger’s gun. The impact of the bolt with the gun caused the gun to glow a bright bluish color, apparently searing the hand of the second mugger, who let out a screech of pain, dropping the gun, which fell to the snow, melting whatever it touched.
“Beanie!” the first mugger shouted as she freed herself from the drift. “You’re going to get it now, buster!” she growled, setting up for a charge. In reply, Blaise fired again, this time the bolt hit the knife, which also glowed blue. The first mugger screamed again, opening her hand to drop the knife, but the knife did not fall, sticking to her hand, still inducing pain.
“Let’s get out of here!” Beanie shouted, holding her burned hand. The two ran off, disappearing into an alley.
Blaise looked down at his crossbow and shield. “Interesting,” he said as the devices faded. “I think I will have a pan-fried steak tonight with a side salad and mashed potatoes instead of stopping for a hamburger.” He put his hands in his pockets and continued walking.
Once his car was repaired, Blaise went to a secluded area he knew that being his forge and cabin,about sixty miles north of Equestrian City, to practice with his newfound tools. The bolts, he found he could vary their intensity, and even direct them, IF he is paying attention to where the bolts are supposed to go. Otherwise, if he did not pay attention to their flight, it was like firing an ordinary pistol. The shield, after some effort to simulate strikes, showed he could deflect blows against him with it, but again, he had to pay attention. “I would ask why, but gifts like this strike at random. Someday, I will know the reason why I have been gifted. Until then, I won’t worry about it,” he said to himself as he walked back to the car.
Blaise never told anyone about his talent, nor did he practice with it much. With the rise of metahuman violence in Equestria City, he never felt the desire or the need to go out hunting for problems. The few times problems encountered him, he never backed down, nor hesitate to strike. He never felt the desire to kill, just to make the problems go away. Killing was not necessary, he rationalized, except in the most extreme of circumstances. Maiming, wounding, burning, now those were acceptable. As he said to himself, “I do not know of any way to interrogate a corpse.” The shield on his right hand, he found, could be shaped to conform to his fist to add extra damage potential for a punch, or expand to cover him. When he did that, he could not fire his crossbow.
As much as it could be said he enjoyed anything, he did enjoy his job at Rare Innovations. While he was not much of an innovator, he can and did use what he had to its utmost, pushing the gear to and beyond its normal limits. Blaise did notice what Fabrication was doing for the head of research, a Miss Twilight Sparkle, and did investigate. However, not being able to fully comprehend everything, he just stuck with what he knew, submitting memos as to how to improve some of the designs he saw, always with the caveat that he was just a simple technician, not a researcher. He did not expect any replies and did not receive any. He had a job to do and second-guessing the Head of Research was not one of them.
Author's Note
The first person to walk the Back Roads of Equestrian City... Blaise Arrow. Not exactly a champion of Justice, right?
For full background, go read 'Equestrian City' and 'Side Streets' both part of the HeroVerse as written by Malcontent. I'll put in links later. Her Highness wants a skritching...

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                     14- Battle Lines                      
//-------------------------------------------------------//
14- Battle Lines
Wave Rider and his sister, Sand Castle, were on the road this beautiful morning, leaving Three Rivers behind them, the Combat Cogs competition having been completed. Between the seats in the front of the van is the grand prize award, the Golden Screw. In the back of the van are the parts to their combat mek, which they had named Hammer-oid. The bot has a large vertical spinner, but it was not set precisely vertical, but able to pivot at an angle, from vertical to about twenty degrees, plus being able to swing the hammer overhand or underhand. Of the eight bouts Hammer-oid participated in, it had won all eight, five by knockout. Wave did the driving, Blaise handled the weapons, Rip and Sand were the pit crew, and Venus handled the Punisher, a big hammer located in the corners of the combat cube. Doctor Sparkle had flown out for the last two days of the competition, and had left right after the final award presentation, to get back to the Tower in time to get some work done.
“I can’t believe we took it all the way,” Sand said as they drove down the E-15 out of Three Rivers towards Dundalk, Wave pushing the van up over a hundred miles an hour in the number two lane (of five).
“Like I said at the interviews, I didn’t believe it, either. I’m just glad the arm’s spinner joints did not come apart. Straight vertical spinners are fine, but Hammer-oid’s can tilt about twenty degrees, coming up at an angle. We threw Mighty Mite clear out of the combat cube and ripped off Houngan’s top armor with an uppercut,” Wave replied.
“Think we can do it again next year?”
“I sure hope so, sister. I sure hope so.”
The brother and sister made it from Three Rivers to Equestrian City in about eight hours, with pit stops, proceeding via Dundalk and Fillytown. Rip and Venus, in Rip’s car, hauling the rest of the parts, took twelve hours to make the journey. Everyone knew the two were very attracted to each other and wanted to spend the time together alone. Blaise, deciding to take the inter-urban express train, made the trip in under four hours, only because he had to change trains in Dundalk.
At work the next day, the Golden Screw was prominently displayed for all the employees to see in the Tower, with the request that they don’t ‘spoil’ the show for others by talking about it. The members of Team Hammer-oid made themselves available during lunch, for stories and pictures with the victorious combat mek, reassembled for display.
After lunch, the three gathered with Twilight, to discuss the Group. While Wave was not working on Hammer-oid, his assignment at work was to design a suit for himself, based on the Wonderbolt armor but with differences. It would be very well armored, could fly (for five minutes per hour, it not like the Matterhorn suit, which Wave did not know anything about) and had some small weaponry, it was more a command and coordination nexus for the others. When asked if he had come up with a code name for himself, Wave said he was thinking of ‘Captain Proton and the Electric Company’. The suggestion was met by a stunned silence from all at the meeting, and Twilight was afraid it would stick.
“Why would you come up with something like that?” Rip asked.
“Think about it,” Wave replied, leaning back in his wheelchair. “You and Sand have electrical powers, the suit’s primary offensive weapon is an electroshock emitter, that makes three out of five. Venus can move in the mirror realm at about the speed of electric current, while Blaise is the insulation that protects the rest of us.”
Silence descended for a moment. “Say this, I do not want to, but truth it will be. Logic I can see in those words,” Blaise droned.
“Unfortunately, so can I,” Twilight added. “Wave, I will need color choices for the outfits as well as designs from everyone as soon as possible, so I can run them through the fabricators here. Radios will be built in to the headgear, as will discreet armor in the body suits.”
“We will need a place for us to get together and practice teamwork. Preferably someplace private,” Wave said, a thoughtful look on his face.
Blaise raised his right hand. “Place I have to do so. The forge and cabin. Directions I will provide,” he told the group. “Plenty of open space, no near neighbors. Only dirt trail for last two miles after road ends. Can see Great North River but is beyond ridgeline. North of bridge crossing Great North River.”
“If you care to offer, Blaise, all we can do is accept,” Wave Rider said politely, a faint smile on his face.
“Is right thing to do, Captain Proton.” Twilight and Rip both winced at the words.
“Wave, I have another job for you to do. This one should be easy for you to do,” Twilight said once she was able to talk again.
“Oh? What’s that, Twilight?”
“I need you to appear on ‘Bucking View’ for me day after tomorrow. I have an ECPD lecture to deliver, so I will have you cover me,” Twilight told him.
Wave thought for a moment. He liked ‘Bucking View’, it being one of the top-rated interview shows, known for lively debates on controversial topics. “Who am I going up against, and what’s the topic?” he asked.
“Metas, meta-crime, and meta’s place in society,” Twilight deadpanned almost as well as Blaise does it. “Your opponent is a columnist and a member of Humans Against Rogue Metas, Sour Salt.”
Wave leaned back in his chair. “Tossing me out into Force Nine seas, are you?” he asked in a droll tone.
“Well, you were a champion surfer, yes? Ride that wave, oh valuable award-winning assistant!” Twilight riposted cheerily.
“Hanging ten in force nine… that’s gotta be a record someplace,” Wave muttered as he engaged the drive motor on his wheelchair to leave.
“We got faith in you, Captain Proton!” Rip said as he got up. Unseen by everyone else but Spike, Twilight grimaced at the words.
After the taping, Sand met Wave at the entrance to the Bucking Wing set. They had guessed that Wave would not be fit to drive then, and they were right. “How are you, Wave? You look exhausted!” she said as she guided his wheelchair to the garage via the elevator. They have two custom vans, one set up for him to drive, one for her.
“I should, because I am,” Wave said as the lift put him and his chair into the van. “That Sour Salt, in person, is worse than he is in the paper!”
“I’ll pour you a stiff one when we get home. What would you like for dinner?”
“A pizza, MY way. I’ll phone in the order to Jocar’s. What would you like?” Wave asked, reaching for his phone.
“A small pizza fries and six wings, mild and sloppy.” Sand said as she made her way through inner city traffic.
“At least you’re not getting fried mushrooms tonight,” Wave said as he pulled up Jocar’s number.
“I figure you are sick enough now, big brother. You don’t need me eating mushrooms in front of you making you worse.”
“Thank you, little sister.”
At work the next day, Wave sat down with Rarity, Twilight and Silver Spoon over a working breakfast on Rarity’s floor, to discuss the interview of the night before. “I hope I met up with all your expectations last night,” Wave said over the rim of a mug of strong coffee, having reported his view of the discussion. The show was not aired live, but taped, because sometimes the discussions could get a little lively. The network needed the time to edit the tape for airing.
“I, for one, say you did a most excellent job of it, darling. You not only punctured many of his arguments, you made the point that metas are people too,” Rarity said with warmth.
“What surprised me is that you did not bad-mouth anyone, not even Tiara or Sour Salt,” Silver Spoon observed, gesturing with a fork.
Wave looked back at Silver Spoon, putting his coffee mug down and picking up a piece of toast. “I am seldom in the habit of doing so, Miss Silver, especially to those who so rightfully deserve it. Losing my temper can have drawbacks,” he said in as haughty a tone as he could muster.
“As Tiara can attest to,” Twilight added after a spoonful of oatmeal.
“I have to admit I got lucky there,” Wave observed before having a bite of his toast. After swallowing, he went on. “After both telling her off and flipping her off, I made tracks out before I truly lost my temper. It would not have done my case any good if she had me arrested now, would it?”
Rarity nodded. “Now, if you did, it would have made my hiring you far more difficult to all involved. I, for one, am glad you are here, darling. Here, you can be appreciated, not used.”
“Believe me when I say we do appreciate it, my sister and I, Miss Rarity.”
“I’m willing to bet that Tiara will be fuming over what you said during the interview,” Silver Spoon said after some of her waffle. “You have held up your end of the commitments you have made when you left her employ. That must annoy her no end.”
“To be honest, I hope it does, Miss Silver,” Wave replied. “She has no legal ground to stand on, and she knows it. It may not stop her, but precautions have been taken, only some of which involve here.”
“Let us all hope they will prove unnecessary,” Rarity said.
After breakfast, in the privacy of her office, Twilight and Wave sat, Wave’s tablet plugged into the central computer system. On a large display were patterns for costumes the Electric Company has selected. “So, for Image, we put lights in the fingertips, wrists and on both sides of her head, controlled by switches in both wrist cuffs. She wants the deep blue with a full head mask, but a hole in the back for her pony tail, along with a ‘sock’ for it,” Twilight said, taking notes on her computer.
“That’s right, with the standard armor fittings in the suit and the radio and voice distorter built in to the headpiece. She figures the armor will alter her figure enough that it would help the disguise,” Wave said.
“How is she coming on her D&E program?” Twilight asked, referring to diet and exercise program.
Wave sighed. “She’s sticking to it, mostly. She does not skip a workout session, but with her in Saddleback, we can’t monitor her closely. She and Rip are working at it,” he said as he pulled up the next pattern, that for Rip.
“Now, Rip I can see improvement after a few months at it since his surgery. He may never win any bodybuilding titles, but he is getting better- and thinner,” Twilight observed as she checked Rip’s pattern over. “Dark green oversuit, half face cover, electric blue fingertips and spark on his chest. I must remember to have him come up for measurements before he leaves today. Would not do to have the suit hanging loose on him.”
“Want me to send him an email?” Wave asked, reaching for his phone.
“No need, Wave. I’ll handle it,” Twilight said, glancing at her desktop monitor, which showed Spike in dragon form, sitting at a telegraph office, tapping away at the key, while across the top of the screen marched two lines of print, one being telegraph code and the other the translation. It was all she could do to repress a giggle at the sight.
“Ready for the next one, Twilight?” Wave asked.
After a few seconds of note taking, she nodded. “I am now. Send me Sand’s patterns, please.”
Wave did so, and the color combinations came up on the wall monitor. “Hmm…yellow-green with orange striping, like a safety vest. Black gloves, half-face pull up mask. How is she coming on HER D&E plan?” Twilight asked.
“I have learned not to question her on it, Twilight. She is someone who likes herself, despite her size. She’s happy and healthy and if I push too much, she WILL zap me!” Wave said with a laugh. “Been like that since she was a toddler.”
“If she’s happy, I can’t push too much. Just hope she has the strength to keep up.”
“She does, Twilight. Her padding hides strength and stamina.”
“Well, it’s her life to lead. I’ll work with Rarity to come up with something that will help alter her figure some. If anyone can, she can,” Twilight said, making some more notes. Unseen by Wave, Spike was busy with a quill and scroll, taking notes as well.
Wave consulted his tablet. “Blaise will stick with his Gray Man identity, because he’s used to it. Now, last up is the color scheme for Captain Proton’s armor,” he said, smiling a little at Twilight’s wince as he sent the data.
Twilight said nothing for a good thirty seconds, looking at what he had submitted. “You know, you can’t surf with jump jets,” she said quietly, trying not to shiver at the sight.
“I know that, Twilight, but you have to admit, painted white and orange board shorts is something unique, right?” Wave said with a smile.
“You know, you run the risk of being called ‘Captain Underpants’ with a design like that,” Twilight said slowly, reading the line of writing that scrolled across the top of her desk screen.
Wave winced at those words. “I didn’t think of that,” he said reluctantly. “Good thing I have a plan B.”
Twilight looked at the plan B configuration, visibly relaxing. “Now, that is much better looking. Patterned on the Commonwealth’s air forces, but distinctly different, so no mistakes in identity can be made. I like it.”
“Thank you, Twilight. When can I deliver the suits to their wearers?” Wave asked.
“You can pick them up at end of shift today. Bring your van around to the loading entrance, and I’ll have everything loaded, including your armor. Up to you to figure out how to get it on,” Twilight told her assistant.
“Oh, good, a challenge!” Wave said, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
The next day, after work, in the basement of their house, Wave looked at Sand dejectedly. “I thought it would be easy,” he said. “I don’t have any trouble putting the armor on at the lab. Why am I having so much trouble here?”
“At the lab, you have a frame to help you get the armor on. You don’t here. Have you tried wearing your walking suit when you put the armor on?” Sand asked in reply.
“Twilight said that the suit would interfere with the armor’s strength amplification system, Sand. I’ve never tried wearing both at the same time.”
Sand let out a sigh. “Brother dearest, you have a problem. No quick-change artistry for you, Captain Proton!”
“Looks like I’m going to have to build an assistance frame here, and the only places I can change at now will be here and at the tower. It’s going from place to place that won’t be easy. At least the suit does go limp when I’m not wearing…” Wave said before trailing off, staring blankly into space. Sand knew that look- he has an Idea, and he’s chasing it with a big butterfly net. She just remained quiet, letting Wave think.
After a couple of moments, Wave snapped out of his trance. “I got it! I got it!” he said with excitement.
“You can have it, brother… it’s probably something I can’t use,” Sand told him.
“No, but it’s something you can do!” Wave said. “Take hold of the pants structure and apply some power to it. Not much. You can activate the magnetic stiffeners to make the pants rigid enough for me to lower myself into them! Once I have them on, I can move about enough to put on the upper half with the control circuitry!”
“Worth a try!” She tried it, the pants snapped rigid, Wave reached up for the straps and lifted himself up out of his wheelchair and into the pants. Once there, he tapped a manual control, powering up the lower half, allowing it to conform to his legs. “It worked! Why can’t you do that without me powering the suit?” Sand asked.
“Safety circuitry, sister. It won’t power up until it is being worn, and only partially until the upper half is donned. That way, the amplification circuits in the legs remain dormant until everything is ready. Normal folk can just slip it on like normal clothing, but, then again, I’m not exactly normal,” Wave said as he reached for the upper piece of the Wonderbolt armor suit, model 2BWR, a custom model for him.
“Heavens forbid you would ever be normal, big brother…” Sand muttered as Wave put on the rest of the suit, their pet kitties, Freckles and Starshine, looking on from their perches.
“Normal is a setting on the dishwasher. It does not apply to people,” Wave said as he slipped on the upper part of the armor, activating second stage power, making the two pieces one. Putting the helmet on activated all systems. Quickly, he activated the diagnostics, finding the suit was ready to go. “Captain Proton, ready for action!” he said as the kitties made a beeline for the door, a black blur leading the white one.
“Good. Now can you design a small power source that you can key on, to make you able to put them on without my help?”
“That’s my next project. I’ll come up with something. Right now, suit check,” Wave ordered, watching the internal displays light up, showing status of the suit’s systems. The computer in the suit has been programmed to accept spoken instructions and to give certain status reports in a verbal form, but it does not have a dedicated AI yet. Wave knew the suit controls could be overridden by Twilight from her office at the Tower, but that was strictly emergency use only.
Wave focused on the inside of his suit’s opaqued faceplate, reading the reports. “All systems read green, Sand. Testing mobility,” he reported as he took some cautious steps around the basement. The suit, all told, was not very bulky at all, but there is always a little ‘adjustment time’ when putting it on and taking it off.
“Looking good, Wave. How’s the environmental controls?” Sand asked.
“Working well. Systems are open right now but can be sealed in under a twentieth of a second. All internal reserves at max. Power generation working well. If I wasn’t worried about the neighbors, I’d go for a flight,” Wave reported.
Just then, Wave’s phone rang. One thing he had yet to do was link his phone into the suit’s comm system, meaning the suit has its own number, but he had not loaded his contact list into it yet, not to mention only four people had the number to the suit, they being Rarity, Twilight, Sand, and Matterhorn. “Would you get that, please?” he asked.
Sand picked up the phone. “It’s Venus,” she said before accepting the call. “Hello, Venus, it’s Sand. Wave is doing some testing.”
“Turn on the TV, any news channel. I’m on my way down,” Venus said, sounding agitated.
“What’s going on, Venus?” Sand asked.
“You’ll see,” Venus said before the phone connection broke.
“What’s going on?” Wave asked.
“Venus said to turn on the news. She will be right down. She sounded upset,” Sand said as she put Wave’s phone down.
“I have this feeling I’m not going to like this…” Wave muttered as he activated his receiver system, tuning in to the top-rated news channel in Equestrian City. What he saw rendered him speechless for a good half minute.
“Sand, alert the Electric Company. I want to be in radio contact with them all in one minute, yourself included,” Wave said in tones that left no doubt who was in charge.
“Sending messages now, Captain Proton.”
Author's Note
For once, Doomsday Desmond is not at the microphone. This time, it's the producer, Morris
Hello, readers. At this point, I am to inform you all that the regular weekly cycle of posting chapters will be interrupted. The reason being that the climactic battle is about to start over on the Equestrian City main story line, and we here at Back Roads will be working closely with the main authors to make sure the two stories synchronize properly before posting.
We want to do this right, so we will not write at cross purposes or contradicting each other. The main line will have most of the action, while Back Roads will focus strictly on their perspective of the... troubles... to come.
I now return you to your regularly scheduled insanity. I do have to untie Desmond and let him out of the closet before he smothers.
he bows politely to the audience before moving offstage