"Of all the places that jerk could've put me, he had to toss me in the dumpster!"

I'd arrived at the Laboratories a few minutes ago after fighting my way past all of the drones in the area. I made it my first priority to locate the Police's missing spotter. After some searching with Hunter active---and after some loud banging got my attention---I found her in a rather... undignified location across the street.

Neat freak that I am, I can't let this slide. "Do you need any help getting cleaned off?"

"That can wait," the garbage-encrusted mare snarls. "You need to hear this..."

...

She gives me a brief outline of what she'd seen before her impromptu dumpster diving. The drones had at first been idling outside of the Laboratories. A magic beam of some kind had been used by an unknown party to carve away the windows, resulting in the Labs being invaded. When she tried to report it, something destroyed her radio before knocking her out. She didn't know what hit her, only that it was bright and blue.

I turn towards the Labs. My vision changes dramatically as I use both Hunter and the Subsurface Radar together, letting me get a clear picture of what's waiting for me there. There's still some drones inside the building, and the building's staff is scattered around in varying states of distress. I wonder which of them is the pony that Ebony asked me to find.

Both vision modes are shut off immediately once I'm finished with them. As useful as they are, having them on simultaneously turns them into Energen hogs. "As far as I can tell, none of them are hurt," I report. "Or at least, none of their conditions are critical. I'm going to talk to a few of them and see if I can figure out why the facility was attacked."

"And then I presume you're going to get somepony to take them to the hospital?" the spotter pointedly asks, tossing the remains of an orange peel back into the trash.

I like how she assumes that I don't know how to do my job. "This isn't the first jig I've danced," I tell her, my voice a mirror of hers. "Trust me when I say that I know what I'm doing. More importantly, trust your employers: they're the ones who brought me in on this to start with."

The spotter's breath catches for a second, and she glares off to the side. "...Right. Sorry. I was one of those that the griffon hunter shot. You saw me out the hospital the other day."

...My memory clicks. "I knew you looked familiar."

"Past few weeks haven't been the greatest," she mutters. "Sorry for taking it out on you."

I wave off her apology and open a connection to the MRPD. "Attention. We need carriages and paramedics. Some of the staff is going to need treatment. Over."

-"Gotcha, General,"- an unfamiliar voice answers cheerfully. -"Officer Coffee-and-Cream's occupied at the moment, but I'll pass your request along."-

"...Confirmed. May I ask whom I'm talking to?"

The voice laughs, sounding sheepish. -"Oh, sorry. I'm Purple Prose. I've only been here for... I want to say a little over a month."-

Funny coincidence, that. "Don't worry about apologizing. Just notify the appropriate parties and keep the ball rolling, alright? We've got jobs to do."

-"Right! Sure thing, General. Um... out!"-

I shake my head as the connection is cut. "Breaking in the new meat's a universal concept," I say to nopony.

The spotter snorts, shaking her head. "Got the fresh vegetables, huh? She tries, anyway."

"Fresh vegetables". I'll need to remember that. But for now, work waits for nopony. I turn and hurry towards the Labs to wipe out the remaining drones and check on the staff directly, and Raspberry Torte in particular. Hopefully, one of them will have seen where the perpetrators went.

...Oh, right. I look over my shoulder to shout back at the spotter. "I'm not repeating myself. Go get yourself cleaned off!"

"Fine, okay! Sheesh."

It was a couple days after I was accepted into the Midnight Castles.

You know this already, but we were using the old Griffons for Equestria office as our headquarters. Nice and spacious, plenty of lighting thanks to those rows of windows at the top, enough room to hide and fly, and no shortage of materials that hadn't yet been moved out. Probably still haven't, for all I know---I haven't been there since our capture.

The team unicorns plus Barricade were off doing their own things elsewhere. I was half-dozing in a makeshift loft; your boys probably saw it while they were out securing our stashes. Barring being called to help with a heist, I wasn't expecting to be doing anything that day.

"I love this hobby of mine."

Of course, it wasn't long before our leaders walked in. Gates had gotten into the habit of sneaking around town and stealing any Wanted posters of them he could find, then adding them to a pile of debris to be burned on cooler days.

It wasn't this that was concerning Bastion. "I'm more bothered by what Mr. Mocha was telling us."

"I don't think it's really worth listening to," Gates commented. "He's old and getting senile. This idea of his for taking over Celestia's throne isn't going to survive him."

"The logic he gave us is sound, senile or not," Bastion insisted. "Even if he doesn't live long, it is still worth investigating."

"Psh." I could hear Gates moving about. "I'm not going to buy it. What's this nonsense about a third Princess? You've got two alicorns: one sunny, one lovey. That would make the third one 'loony'."

"Think about it, Gates. We were all raised on fairy tales, so we know that the Mare in the Moon is clearly not a natural formation. Suppose it's true that---"

"It isn't. We're already wanted because of that stunt you pulled in Canterlot. I'm not going to rent property in Tartarus just because Cocoa Loco thinks there really is a third alicorn with a legit claim on royalty."

My brain was rather fogged because of me wanting to sleep, so I'd more or less dismissed the whole idea. "The stunt I pulled? ...No, you're not distracting me," Bastion told Gates firmly. "Look. You keep watch over the hideout for the next few hours. I'll be visiting Mocha's personal library and judging for myself whether it's true or not."

"I still think you're wasting your name on this, Bastion," Gates grumbled.

"I'll be the one to decide that, not you," Bastion answered, his course set. Heavy hoofsteps a moment later meant that he was leaving the hideout.

"...Feh," Gates began muttering. "He's always been like this. I don't care if he tends to be right. I still wish he'd take my opinions into consideration for a change." His own steps suggested to me that he was pacing. "Scapegoated for an embarrassment to the nobility, refused to take responsibility, booted out by the guy Shining Armor ended up replacing... I bet if he'd listened to me sooner, we'd still be sitting pretty in Canterlot right now instead of digging for scraps."

The room was completely silent for a minute after Maverick finished her story. Magnum, Coffee, and Officer Rainstorm were trying to think about what this meant for the Midnight Castles' motivations, both before they betrayed the Guard and after.

The fairy tale involving the Mare in the Moon was common knowledge among Equestria's story lovers. Assuming for the moment that there was any accuracy in the tale, any claim she had to the rulership would've been dissolved when the other Sister banished her... or at least, that's what they imagined to be the case. So why was somepony saying that her claim was still legitimate? More to the point, why was somepony implying that she was real? It seemed outlandish.

More applicable to the current situation was what Maverick had just disclosed on Bastion. "We need to confirm this," Coffee finally decided. "If there really was something going on in the nobility that he was falsely accused of, it puts Bastion's decision to go AWOL in style in a new light. Not to support his actions, or anything, but at least there's more going on here than him and Gates simply turning traitor out of the blue."

"Maybe check to see if there was anything in the paper around that time period?" Magnum offered, seeing the absolute certainty in Maverick's eyes that she was telling the truth.

"The Canterlot papers, maybe," Coffee considered. "I don't know if something like that would've reached Manehattan. If they were really upset about it, they might have even tried to keep it secret."

"Let's ask Nostalgic Picture," Rainstorm suggested. "He's talked about having family in Canterlot. Maybe he knows something about it."

"As good an idea as any," Coffee decided. "Do me a favor and find him for me, could you? And make it quick."

Rainstorm agreeably hustled out of the room, galloping as quickly as space permitted him.

...

Both of the ex-thieves vaguely recognized the pony with the camera Cutie Mark when he arrived. He was there to help take away the gang that night at the Pyre, and they'd glimpsed him thanking Leviathan for her help.

Maverick's quiet exhalation went unheard by everypony except Magnum. She knew that it had happened just four weeks ago or so, but with everything that had happened since, it almost felt more like three years.

Picture's photographic memory---or eidetic memory, as Coffee insisted on calling it---was alicorn-sent. When given the abridged version of Maverick's story, he hadn't needed to do much thinking to recall events from that time.

A cousin of his that he visited occasionally had told him about a scandal involving Bastion, Gates, and an obnoxious noble (not Blueblood, as Picture made clear). While the two stood guard at a dinner party, disparaging remarks had been made about the noble's family from somepony in attendance. From there everything snowballed, resulting in an utterly trashed dining room and the noble accidentally kissing somepony who wasn't interested in him (which in turn almost resulted in a broken muzzle).

Nopony had been able to figure out who had made the comments that kicked things off. Since Bastion had been in charge of security, the outraged noble placed the blame on him for not being quick enough to stop the 'disaster'. In reality, he and Gates had done everything they could to try and keep the situation under control, but events had happened much too quickly. The noble had been blinded by his anger and was unable to see that fact, even when his more reasonable family members had spelled it out for him.

When questioned by his superior---the then-Captain of the Royal Guard---Bastion gave the facts and stubbornly refused to take responsibility for the event. Said superior was displeased by what he viewed as a violation of the Royal Guard's modus operandi. When Bastion persisted in his stance and Gates accurately pegged the C.O. as somepony who cared more about his reputation than in finding out the truth, the officer sacked them both via dishonorable discharges.

That was effectively the worst thing the officer could've done. In retaliation, Bastion planned a theft of the officer's collection of weight and mass reduction crystals. Gates was still dealing with the fallout of his divorce, so he joined him. The two of them succeeded, escaping with the crystals and the officer's own spear. They immediately fled Canterlot and made their hideout in Manehattan, resorting to a life of crime to get by.

As Picture noted, all parties were in the wrong. However, if two things hadn't happened---the noble being insulted, and the blame being pinned on Bastion---the Midnight Castles would never have come into existence. As things stood, while the noble's family retained their upper-class status, the noble himself ended up losing his title when Celestia found out about it. The victimized Royal Guard Captain was ultimately removed from his position when multiple wrongdoings that he was involved in came to light, with Shining Armor being selected to replace him.

All that was left was to capture the rogue Guards and make sure that they faced justice as well.

...

"What in blazes?" Maverick and Magnum breathed after Picture's account reached its end.

"Everypony," Magnum would continue, facehoofing. "Just... everypony. One thing goes wrong, and then everything goes wrong. It's like the domino theory of stupidity."

Those officers present winced. "Harsh, but accurate," Picture admitted.

Coffee's hoof went to her chin. After some silent deliberation that left the ex-thieves tapping the table impatiently, she gave her verdict. "I'd thought that they'd betrayed the Guard on a lark, but it looks like they were betrayed first. Until they stole the crystals, they did nothing that warranted animosity."

"Aside from Gates' mareizing," Maverick muttered.

"Disgusting, but ultimately irrelevant to the situation," was Coffee's rebuttal, her face twisting a little at the comment. "Since their kidnapping was resolved, I've gone over Ocean Guard and Ebony Evening's accounts of their experiences. The stories painted Bastion as somepony who treated civilians fairly despite his criminal actions. My first belief was that they'd been deceived somehow, but Picture's account strongly suggests that he does in fact have a measure of honor."

"I'll have to double-check, but I think the Castles never went after low-income households," Officer Rainstorm brought up. "The kidnapping case was probably the first time they ever targeted someplace like Flower Row."

"We're not going to ignore what was brought up earlier about the 'third alicorn' thing, right?" Maverick reminded them.

"No, we aren't," Coffee assured them before frowning. "Unfortunately, it doesn't look like any of this is going to help Leviathan immediately..."

The head of what the department called "fresh vegetables" poked into the room, interrupting her. "Hey, Coffee-and-Cream?" Purple Prose requested. "Sorry to bother you, but I just got a message from the General. She says she's on her way to the old Griffons for Equestria building."

Both thieves stiffened when they heard this. Coffee sighed. "...Right. Thanks, Prose." She waved off the younger pony, who went about her business. "I really wish we'd been able to find something in time, but that's not an option now. We're going to have to trust that Leviathan can beat the odds and get the job done. Maybe this information will be useful later..."

"Send us, officer!"

Everypony snapped their heads towards Magnum when she blurted out those three words. Her ears folded back at the sudden attention and the realization of her mistake. "Um... send us please, officer?" she corrected herself in a quieter tone.

"It's not the wording that bothers me... though we will be talking about that later," Coffee told her before she could relax too much. "What do you mean, you want to go?"

"Levi's going after our old bosses at our old hideout," Maverick told them with some heat, trying to keep from injecting any of the attitude that had gotten her ejected from her first career. "We need to help her!"

Coffee took silent note of their use of Leviathan's nickname. "Request denied," she rejected them firmly.

Both pegasi's wings flared in protest, though it was Magnum who voiced what they were both thinking. "What? Why?!"

"I doubt you'll be of much use," Coffee stated, shaking her head. Before the boxed crooks could take offense, she continued. "As has been previously established, your former bosses have been using armor made of fused dragon scales. Esoteric techniques can break through; otherwise Leviathan wouldn't have bested Bushwhacker. But run-of-the-mill ponies like you and I? Good luck trying to harm them."

Contrary to what she probably expected, neither of the two were put off by this. Instead they perked up and looked at each other for a moment, then returned their attention to Coffee with devious little smiles. "Dragon scales, you say?" Magnum asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"It's funny that you mention that," Maverick said, chuckling. "You've heard about that rep from the Wonderbolts putting us through the wringer?"

"It's been mentioned a time or two," Coffee confirmed, likely wondering what they were getting at.

"She didn't have time to teach us everything 'fore she left, but she did tell us about a technique for pegasi that could be used to harm dragons," Magnum brought up. "The Wonderbolts aren't only stunt fliers, y'know."

Coffee considers this. "Hmm... tell me more about it, and I'll give it some thought. This had better be convincing, you two."

They told her.

Once the last of the drones are destroyed, I stay out of the way as the carriages and paramedics arrive. I know some first aid and I applied it to one of the ponies who needed it (and thankfully it was just as applicable to them as it is to humans, at least to a degree), but better trained professionals than a comparative amateur.

There were no deaths, thankfully. As seems to be the case with the enemy forces, they were attacking more to incapacitate at best, and scare off at worst. There were some stolen items, though: assorted paperwork and notes, different materials used in experimentation, and formulas for magic conversion, among others. I wonder what their endgame is.

Raspberry Torte was one of those who'd escaped injury, having immediately ducked inside a janitorial closet when he saw the drones bust into the building. He thankfully accepted the well-wishes I gave him on Ebony's behalf.

I had to tell him I couldn't accept any cookies to give to Gray's family, though... at least not for the moment. Only items that are applicable to my systems can be stored in my personal inventory, and I still have two thieves to catch. He was disappointed, but ultimately accepting of my rationale.

...

One thing Raspberry could give me was some good intel. While he was hiding in the closet, he overheard two ponies---one brash, one dangerous, and identifying themselves in conversation with each other as the thieves in question---talking about "settling things with Dolphin Girl at the old hideout". He'd thought back to the news reports about them, and with a bit of prodding, he remembered that the hideout they were talking about was probably a warehouse that had once been used by the city's Griffons for Equestria branch.

Really. "Dolphin Girl"? That's the best name they could give me? Amateurs. Or specifically an amateur, knowing Gates' attitude. Bastion doesn't strike me as the name-calling type, from what Ocean Guard said about him.

...

I try to let Officer Coffee know where I intend to go, only for Miss Prose to receive my message instead. What's Coffee doing that's so important that she needs somepony else to cover for her?

I know I shouldn't be irritated. Prose is trying to do her job the best that she can. But I'm coming up on what's probably going to be the biggest of my battles so far. I need experience on my side, and she doesn't have much going for her.

Ah, well. Not much that can be done about that now, and I can't afford to wait. The longer I linger, the more time that the thieves have to prepare for me. I bid Raspberry good-bye and take off towards the designated warehouse.

...

No more drones block my way. There was a tremendous amount of them earlier, equaling what was thrown at me at the shopping center, but it seems as if they couldn't spare any to block my way this time. I'm hoping this means that my enemies have hit their production limit.

Though between the stolen Lab materials and a lot of them leaving the island via the docks earlier, I'm going to be very busy later investigating where they went. I've made it clear already that Equestria's not ready for this sort of technology. It can't be allowed to spread.

The neighborhood's ponies have worked up enough bravery to step outside after the storm ended. I can hear some of them cheer as I vault across the street. Nice to hear them, even if I can't acknowledge them right now.

There's a building up ahead that I can't clear even with a Double Jump aiding me. I could just climb it when I hit it, but I feel like I shouldn't be wasting any time: every second is precious. Thankfully, my newly-activated Frozen Aerial is up to the challenge: an icy platform forms beneath me, hovering in place long enough for one of my feet to kick off of it. This is enough to reset my jumping, and my next one boosts me up to the rooftop.

I slow down and stop near the roof's edge and gaze down at the street ahead of me. There's a few ponies out and about, but I ignore them in favor of the structure I'm looking at. One transmission to the MRPD later, and... "Purple Prose? If that's still you over there, can you tell me anything about Griffons for Equestria?"

-"Huh? ...Oh sure, sure! Umm..."- Prose makes some thoughtful noises before she finally gets things together. -"There used to be this really big movement. Griffons throughout the nation who liked it here wanted to throw their support behind ponies in general. They didn't have a ton of success at first because of opposition from their homeland and a few jerks over here, so it took them decades to get a secure footing."-

"And this warehouse I'm looking at now was their headquarters?" I ask.

There are four warehouses occupying space on this block down below. Three of them look well-used: even now there are ponies hauling heavy items to and from waiting wagons for transport. The eastern-most one isn't, having no signs of life except for one Class-B target somewhere within. A simplified emblem on the wall depicts a griffon flying next to a trotting pony; the emblem has faded from the grass green it must've been to the pale green it is now.

One Class-B? I'm sure this is a setup, so where's the other one? -"You're there already? Neat! ...Um, yes. Yes it was,"- Prose hastily confirms. -"At some point---don't ask me when, don't know---the local branch decided that the warehouse didn't serve their purposes anymore. They were able to find a new home elsewhere in the city. Meanwhile the company who owned the warehouse straight-up left the place to rot for reasons I don't get. Left some stuff stored there and everything."-

I'm beginning to see that there's a lot of things you don't get, but at least I'm getting the basics. The Midnight Castles must've found out about this place after that and decided that it made a good hideout. "I'll bet the thieves love it," I remark. "Anyway, radio silence from here on out. And let Coffee-and-Cream know about it, too. I don't want to be interrupted with any calls mid-combat."

-"Good luck, General! Out!"- Prose cheerfully responds as she signs off. Did I ever have anyone that cheerful on my staff?

With nothing to distract me, I make sure nopony's beneath me before descending the front of the building. I jump down a series of platforms generated via Frozen Aerial, each about twelve feet apart, then drop the rest of the way to the ground.

...

My sudden landing gets everypony's attention. It takes a minute or two to notify them that I have business at the Midnight Castles' old lodgings, but once they're convinced they get out of the way. This leaves me clear to approach the warehouse unhindered.

A door on the side has been left unlocked. Confident, aren't they? I ask myself as I march on through.

The warehouse is a veritable maze of old crates, pallets, and shelves, with plenty of negligible refuse and knickknacks scattered around. The only light in here is coming through the windows that border the walls near the ceiling, though there's plenty of it. I let my systems search the area as I go, but all they've determined is that there's only one Class-B target here. Strange.

And it's when I reach a clear part of the warehouse that I see which target that is: the sick jerk that Ebony wants me to kick in the face, sitting pretty on an old mattress. He gets up off of it as I approach.

Iron Gates' dragon armor is steel-colored, accented with orange stripes here and there. Unlike the rest of those I've fought up until now, he's actually sporting cranial protection: a helmet completely obscures his face from sight, though a one-way visor allows him to see out of it just fine. Aside from the same belt that's adorned most of the suits, I can see holsters on each leg that have knives poking out of them.

The knives' handles seem oddly shaped. I wonder if there's any meaning to that.

I open my mouth, but before I can offer any sort of witty greeting, Gates beats me to it. "You know something? I find it hard to believe that you've caused this much fuss." His voice sounds a bit tinny, like he's talking over a radio. "One month in town, and you're the hottest topic."

Hopefully not in the literal sense. "Ponies know who they like, and you're not one of them," I snipe at him. "Your old cell's waiting to make your re-acquaintance, so let's go."

"Oh, put away the threats and the knuckle cracks,” Gates chides me. Wait, how does he know about knuckles? … Oh, right. Minotaurs exist. Never mind. “You owe us your personal destruction for what happened. A year's spree brought to rest by a doll mauled by a lawn mower. Just embarrassing.”

“If you're going to insult me, try a little harder,” I suggest, shifting to my ready stance. “Your toys aren't going to work on me. Maybe you should have brought something bigger.”

“If it's not broke, don't fix it,” Gates retorts, crouching down. “Close range combat's how I'm living my life. Then couple me up with an invisible dread...”

"...by the time you see me, you're already dead," Bastion's voice finishes from somewhere...? Where's that coming from?

“Heh. Never figured him for a poet, but there you are.”

...Wait. Didn't Gray say that one of the kidnappers could turn invisible? Interesting breakthrough.

I think back to my initial conflict in this world. For the fun of it, I give Gates the same wide and smug grin that I gave his group back then. "You're not the only ones with upgrades. Being armed and armored didn't save your kirin and changeling allies, and it's not going to save you now. If you're not worried, believe me: you should be."

Gates scoffs at this. "As if."

A red-tinted magic bolt of an unknown variety rips through the air at me from where I heard Bastion speak. I sidestep it as it passes through the space that my right shoulder once occupied; Gates uses this as a distraction to leap at me, forelegs raised and knives at the ready.

The inevitable rematch has begun.

Author's Note

Music links include: Tallon Overworld (Theme 2), from Metroid Prime; and AGST's "Look".

For those that haven't been following my blogs: THIS CHAPTER, SEROUSLY. I'll just leave it at that.

The name "Nostalgic Picture" for the Officer with the excellent memory actually stems from an old Fujifilm advertisement that I'd recorded by chance back in 1994. The line at the end of the commercial was "...because your pictures should be nostalgic. Your film shouldn't." You can see it here, if you like. (No, the video's not mine.)

...I imagine I should probably be putting an end to the Red Vs. Blue references by now, but the traditional pre-battle smack talk just made it too tempting.

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