Author's Note

Greetings and Salutations!

I hope you all are doing well in this crazy turbulent time. I am...making it. Already contemplating and looking for a job that will best suit my writing lifestyle. I am getting older, and I am no longer the young man I once was. To that point, I am going to get into becoming an editor. I start classes here soon, and you all will likely see a noticeable uptick in the quality of my editing here soon.

In art news: The book cover for Blurring Realities is officially underway and paid off. So now we wait and lurk in my chosen artist's feed, waiting for the first bits of chum in the form of wips to fall into the stream.

Till then, drink plenty of water. Hug friends and family, and you all have an awesome day. Thanks for Reading.

Peace!

P.S. Y'all know the drill by now.

Laid Plans

Smiling grimly to himself, Drystan cleaned his knives carefully, annoyed at the slow progress he had with the interrogation but happy nonetheless. The idiot drake that had been caught on the outside of the village, clearly making a run from something, had known next to nothing. But he could extract information from a stone given the time. He was good at that after all. That is if his Mistress ever gave him the time to do so.

He ran his claws over the clean blades, checking for any residues that he may have missed, not wanting yet another issue to crop up over the mire of worries already bothering him. Order was required and his nest, much like the rest of the world should one day be, must be in order. The knives themselves were special in only their function. Iron, rather than steel, was used in their creation. A reminder of how far his kingdom had fallen in the centuries since the Princess had cowed them by murder and economically. The blades cut deep, and with the right coaxing, he could sift fact from fiction in relatively quick succession in ranking of importance.

Tonight's subject had little to say on strategic matters, but a vast wealth of conspiracies and lies. Some of which gave him pause in the level or ridiculousness this portly griffon seemed to truly believe. He wasn’t interested in gossip, however, Instead, he sought the actual day to day activities inside the town of Aviary.

That had been the true surprise, and more concrete confirmation that the Pony was working with the Hen to further her goals.

New supports for homes. Fields that were being reorganized into plots that could be easily manageable by one, and the storage designed to keep the goods to last through the winter stunned him in their simplicity and almost magic-like way it was coming together. Yet their was more.

A wall that was already going up in rapid succession thanks to the asistances of Diamond Dogs. That one angered him more. To debase themselves to such a degree that they would commune with the beasts who skulk in the ground was far below acceptable. Even if he could recognize the merits.

He growled.

As much as he extracted from the refuse, it left him feeling so dissatisfied, he needed to know more and feared not knowing would be what failed him. So he took longer than he needed to, asking inane questions to sift out anything that might be obscure, any leverage at all.

Nothing. Other than one incident of remarkable power, the Pony was still an anomaly. That power was something to be wary of.

Again, the speculation from his victim could only be accepted so far, and most of it was gibberish by the end. Perhaps if they could catch another, they may learn more.

"Is it done?" The pony's voice, high and whiny, irritated him. As much as he respected his leader, how dare Rosebreast bind himself with these creatures of deceit and subterfuge, the very monsters of their downfall so long ago. It was galling, to say the least and made him want to indulge in his more baser instincts. That, however, would be to fall to chaos, and there could be none of that.

Placing the six blades in a leather knife bag, he turned and regarded the whorse before him, the thumb claw on his left hand scrapping harshly across the index finger. A habit he had developed long ago to deal with those that were he believed to be his lessers. As the sharp digit raked along the scared surface where previous attempts to keep his temper could be felt with its passing, a sense of calm overcame him.

“Thank you.” He mentally said to no one in particular, but it paid to be polite especially if things were not going your way.

Their claim of merely being mercenaries was as flimsy as his title of Steward in his Liege Lady's service. Oh he performed the function to its utmost, but his real talent had always been as the knife in the dark to his Lady’s hand.

His gaze swept past the puffed up mare, and over the camp they had set up for themselves. Noting with a sneer that only his small force had been wise enough to set up in the trees, blending in with dips and curves in the land itself to better hide their presence. The ponies had taken to the ground. They had set up inside a hollow inside the Forest of Shadows on the northwest side of Deerkill Road. They were two days march out from the little village and scattered farm communities of Aviary.

He felt it an unnecessary precaution considering most hamlets, like their target, were less aware than a half-dead gordat, however the ponies insisted, and he had no choice but to acquiesce to their desires lest he not get what his Lady paid for.

How he longed to put an end to the charade and simply slit their throats. But that could come later, when their usefulness was at an end and he needed to cover his own tracks.

The ponies camp was well organized. The equipment was too clean; he shook his head with a derisive snort. This was an army, small and mobile as it was intended. It made him wonder what their plans were, why they were masquerading as something that, by all accounts, was not true.

"Perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh. I, too, hide what I am."

"It is." He licked his beak, an affectation he recently adopted to disturb them, and noted with delight the pony's revulsion painted clear on their features. "Truthfully, he did not have much to tell me about. But his tale did much in the way of informing me that the colt is indeed inside the village. Though there have been numerous events in the past few days."

"Events? What events?" She stepped more into the light of his tent and revealed herself. The mare, as the ponies called their hens, was average for her species. Her particular race was a unicorn, which always made him smirk when addressing her, the long white bony protrusion giving it away even in the shadows of early dawn.

Her blue eyes reminded him of the sky, and her white fur made him frown. Dressed head to paw in what appeared to be the standard for mercs the world over, she commanded the space well.

Well, she would have if not for his hulking form and the nervous way she would twitch when he eyed her. That was good, he wanted this pony kept off balance.

"Apparently, the pony has managed to form some type of pact between the villagers and a pack of Diamond Dogs who are living in the area." He had to chuckle at the absurdity of it. Diamond Dogs playing the role of faithful hound was absurd.

Her features darkened. "What kind of pact?"

He barely kept the growl in his throat contained at her demanding tone. The claw scraped the scales again, and all was normal once more. He worried that he might be developing a tick of some kind. That might be bothersome.

Her ears flicked back at the sound, in fear more than likely as she regarded him with trepidation.

Drystan had been forced to employ this new calming technique more than once on their journey across Griffonian lands, and he noted with wry amusement that she and the others in her command staff seemed to react negatively to the habit. Perhaps he should keep it.

It was a delightful response, after all.

"In return for temporary citizenship, with the promise that should they perform appreciatively, they would receive full citizenship, they would dig up ore and other materials for the town." He smiled thinly. It was a devious little plot and one that could have unseated his Mistress if he had not already been deployed.

Still, the fact that it was all the colts' idea had been very surprising. Not the thought itself, just that it had come from him.

The mare hissed in alarm, very much like a snake. "How peculiar." He thought with wry amusement. Something upset her a great deal, and he and Rosebreast had a very good notion as to what that might be.

The colt was giving the secret of steel to his people, and that left him with mixed feelings about the foal. Not that he thought it wrong for griffons to relearn what had been lost to them for generations.

No, no, no. Not that.

It was the fact that the Pony was so arrogant to think of himself as a savior of sorts. Teaching lost skills not available to their people due to embargoes from the pony nations of the world. Talents that should be theirs by right. It felt like his people were being belittled by the lowest of their enemies' races.

At the same time, he was also grateful to him. Soon Griffonia would have a chance on the world stage once again. To have steel flow from the forges and become the tide that would once more wash away the corruption that had taken root within, to remove the weakness that plagued his nation.

Those would be good days. Days in which he would be busy, bringing order from the chaos that had for so long claimed his home. He was a patriot, and he wanted Griffonia strong again.

His thin smile turned genuine, unbeknownst to him.

However, the important issue was he got his hands on the notebook that Pony carried with him everywhere he went; his subject had mentioned it more than once. No telling what other secrets the equine had discovered that may benefit his Lady.

Not to mention keeping these "mercenaries" from claiming him. It was no secret that they held some type of interest in one of his targets, not likely possible that it would be the Hen. Judging by the message traffic coming to and fro as they moved slowly across the land, their true leadership wanted the Equestrian over all else.

He had seen the bands of steel, and the nullstone rings they believed hidden from his eyes. Should he tell them that the colt would likely break his restraints with pitiless ease? No. No, that may be a foolish course of action in case the unthinkable happens, and they get to him first. It was amusing to note that somehow the black pony had discovered a way to destroy their only means to control him. For it to then be lost to history so quickly, and his having a hand in the forging of that record, left him with a proud feeling growing in his chest.

"I wonder, should I not simply capture him? One other ideas remain in that head of his?" The sudden thought did not startle him.It was one he considered more than once.

But would his Mistress appreciate such forward thinking initiatives? Rosebreast was many things, tolerant of ideas not her own was always a gamble depending on her mood.

In his Lady's presence, he had to conduct himself as a stern, quiet Griffonian. One that did his duty and little else. Yet, he did chafe at the bonds she placed upon him. He could do so much more for her than just be a knife and a voice.

"What are you smiling about?" The whorse suddenly snapped. "Did he say anything more?" He frowned; the shrill voice was back, and that was quickly souring his thoughts. The claw scraped again. This time, blood came with it. This was definitely a tick he was developing, and not a good one.

“I am calm.” He reminded himself once more. It would not do to lose his temper. He had made mistakes before, and did not relish the idea of making one here.

"Not much else, I'm afraid. This one had fled the village soon after that event." He scowled as he gestured back to what remained of his guest.

Smoke rose from a small brazier that had been fitted with a gridiron. There was a piece of meat left over burning to ash. He had lamented the waste in effort, an attempt to induce more fear that quite literally killed the drake. Likely his heart gave out from pure stress alone.

The griffon on his little table had been terrified by the prospect of those Diamond Dogs moving so close to his home, so rather than protest or challenge, he had run. Like the coward he was. "The mutts' closer proximity scared him, so he gathered what he could and headed for Griffonstone." He left it unsaid that his flight ultimately led him directly into the black griffon’s clutches.

The mare before him shuddered.

"We…" she licked her lips nervously, "we will strike tomorrow night then."

Drystan cocked his head as he thought it over. It was a good plan, the one they had developed over the course of their journey. They would box them against the cliffs, and if any thought to escape by the Westerwinds they would find teams with nets ready to snare them and drop their corpses into the waters below. The walls going up would only aid in their subjugation of the town. But may prove tricky for the unicorns to get over.

It would be simple. Clean. And enough gaps in coverage were left to allow tales of a pony army attacking outlying villages. It would force Sigurd to confront Celestia; anything less and he would be seen as a coward and a vote of contest could be issued to unseat him by the Council.

His Mistress was very clever.

Nodding, he opened his beak to assent when two of his own flew in.

"Steward!" One shouted to him, grabbing the black griffon's attention. Turning he faced them, his frown deepening into a scowl.

"Yes?"

"There has been a development." Huffed Cornell, a slim predator decked in the black gear of Drystan's chosen. Soldiers who had proven to have more than the standard fare of Lady Rosebreast's normal troops, and a certain predilection for order as well. He just wished they were not so amateurish about it. "Orion Falls and Grace Fairheart are no longer in the village." The utterances of those names made him glare at the two hotly. He expected them to know better than to utter those names. They were the Hen and Pony. Nothing more, nothing less.

Before he could ask anything specific and useful, the mare shrieked in outrage.

"WHAT?!" What do you mean he's go-" The sudden silence was deafening in the wake of such an obnoxious tirade suddenly halted. The black griffon had not realized he had done anything till he felt the blood run down his palm, staining the already dark cloth of his sleeve.

Looking over slowly, he noticed the thumb claw, the one he used to scrape his flesh when irritated, had been buried an inch into the throat of the annoying pony he had been saddled with. The red blood blossomed slowly, but in a slow, pusling, manner as it coated her fur and uniform top in crimson. The violent action may have finally shattered her confidence around him. The wind brought him the scent of ammonia.

"Well, I've already come this far." He mused, already feeling slightly better about his place in life. This was much better than cutting himself, after all. He would have to keep reminding himself to get that tick under control later.

"I believe it would be in your best interests to keep quiet, Mercenary. One more interruption, one more demand, and your companions will be carting off what is left of you for the remainder of this little campaign. Are we understood?" What Drystan wanted to do was finish the action and rip her throat out, and he would eventually get to do that. Hopefully.

However, now was not the time to indulge in such a fantasy, not to mention he hated having to openly threaten someone. It was always more satisfying to watch them realize what he meant than be a minotaur about it and shove it into their faces.

The mare in his grip whimpered, not daring to light up her horn, considering the danger. He took that as an ascent and removed his claw along with his grip. It was miraculous that he had missed her jugular entirely. Noting in the seconds that the wound had not been that severe, to begin with.

Choking, a hand squeezing the wound shut, she fled back down the freshly beaten path to her quarter of the encampment. Two shadows that he had noticed before, but not really dwelt on, peeled away from beside tree trunks to chase after her. They never looked back, and a bit of peace returned to the area in front of his tent.

"What was her name again?" He shook his head; it didn't matter.

Turning, he addressed Cornell, feeling better. But not by much.

"What have you learned?"

"According to our informant, the colt and Hen departed with a dozen guards heading south on the Westerwinds. It seems their destination is Neighbon." He must have realized his earlier mistake, the grimace on his companion's face mirrored by the reporter. "From what we have gathered, they are going for a little rest and relaxation." There was a dry chuckle at that.

Drystan thought for a moment.

On the one hand, the Pony and Hen's departure was an unfortunate complication. The point was to eliminate both as soon as possible.

However.

If the pair remained away for long enough, they could arrange a better strategy in order to maximize the carnage more efficiently; with the Diamond Dogs now just a few hundred paces from the village itself, they could disrupt the original plan. He was willing to admit the idea of letting a few go was a little haphazard. Killing the beasts was no issue, but some griffons absolutely needed to survive.

"This may work to our advantage. They will not suspect our presence till it is too late. I imagine the little Lady would wish to keep her toughest and brightest with her." He mused allowed.

"It seems Eberhard Lonelycall has remained behind, Sir," Cornell mentioned. Both of Drystan’s eyebrows came up.

"Ah. Perhaps she isn't as foolish as her Ladyship believes." That would complicate matters. His counterpart was known to be very attentive, but with the hatchlings gone, he could still proceed carefully. So very, very carefully. "Get the others; I wish to revise our plans. Tell the…ponies to standby for new instruction."

Turning, the black griffon looked to where he knew Aviary was.

"I wonder what other secrets you have for me…"

Orion's head dinged off the roof of the carriage for what felt like the tenth time.

"Tell me!?" He shouted as the wind howled outside and rain battered the lead glass windows. "Do we really have to keep fucking doing this? Would it not be bette-" A sudden wind gust shunted the griffon-drawn vehicle to the left, and he flew across to land in Grace's lap.

"If we set down now-" She screamed, one hand catching him, the other tangled in with a strap bolted into the ceiling. "We will crash!"

"Whose fuckin' idea was this!?" Trying to regain his balance, and get off of her, he lunged for a strap of his own, missed, and crashed into the floor between both couches.

The black colt chose to simply lay there on his stomach, holding onto his face and groaning in agony.

"You did!" Grace had no mercy, and as he peered past his fingers when he rolled with the violent rocking, he could see her scowling at him as she practically swung from the ceiling on a single strip of leather.

"Oh yeah. I did." He inwardly groaned.

From the distance when it was first spotted, the storm front appeared not to be much of anything. Gilda had remarked that it looked like it was more of a squall than anything else. However, his friend disagreed, pointing out that those storm clouds had been rotating in a dangerous fashion. So they had put it to a vote. In the end, Orion had been the tiebreaker; he had opted to go through it rather than land and wait for it to pass as she had suggested.

Now they were all suffering from his idiotic decision.

If not for the carriage, they would likely have been fine. Maybe.

Griffon wings seemed to have been made for rough and turbulent weather. Their wide wings allowed them to catch more air with each beat, and the natural oils seeping from the feathers and skin kept water from soaking into them, weighing them down.

In contrast, while pegasi had an easier time manipulating weather and were generally more nimble in the air, they would often choose to set the storm, then either fly to a higher altitude or get to shelter on the ground. Their wings were more slender, which was great for speed, but they had to apply the oil by hand in order to repel water.

Above them, two large beats that sounded like a fist pounded the roof. A pause, then another pound.

"Storms clearing!" Grace cried.

"Thank Christ!" He shouted back in response, giving up all attempts to right himself at the moment.

Soon enough, the violent pitching and yawing began to settle into a more controlled bob though he still felt like jello. Each slowly softening jerk made him tremble with the memory of the much more violent shudders of before.

Attempting to sit up, he quickly abandoned that idea as his stomach gave a warning siren to the shifting contents within. During the turbulent ride, he had not noticed that particular discomfort until then.

"Oooouuugghhhh." He groaned as he covered his eyes with a forearm. His other hand held onto his stomach gently.

"You wanted to fly through the storm." Came his friend's smug response to his distress.

"And a fuck you too." He grumbled back. "How far out are we, anyway?"

A shift in the balance of the carriage indicated her peeking her head out the sliding glass window. Something he still refused to do.

When he had asked why they went the aerial route instead of going over by land like they had done getting to Aviary, he was told that it was because of the increase in bandit activity on all roads leading to and from Neighbon.

In truth, had they been coming from Griffonstone or anywhere else in the nation, they would likely not have come without the full complement of troops to protect them. But due to the Westerwinds, they could simply bypass the roads and ride the winds down the coast. The turbulent airstream actually helped to prevent robbers from setting up any kind of trap due to the unpredictability of the air currents.

Getting back would be just as easy, because the air stream was bizarre in some cases as they had a tight loop, allowing them to fly north at roughly the same speed as they were now heading southwest.

"Ten, maybe, fifteen miles? Orion, this is beautiful; you should come see this, the sun reflecting off the water is just stunning." She murmured above him.

"Nope. No, thank you, I will see it when we land." He groaned, hating to be reminded that they were currently between five and six thousand feet in the air.

It had been an excellent exercise in seeing just how far his Radar could reach if recalibrated to scan depth instead of looking for people. Though the result had been more difficult to achieve, than he had believed.

It had been idle curiosity that prompted him and had kept his mind off of just how high they possibly were. Orion had wanted to see if he could modify an already existing enchantment, and had gotten a surprise.

The short answer was yes, he could. However, it was far more complicated than he had expected and dangerous. To alter an already pre-existing algorithm, he had to first set the new parameters and had run into a snag. He could not remove what was effectively the original program, for lack of a better term.

It seemed hardwired into the device itself.

The man-turned-colt had been getting the distinct impression that enchanting was less about imbuing spells into objects, and more about setting a running program with magic as the input. Perhaps the original creators were intending to allow their use for anyone.

Still, he had found a workaround.

The colt had first attempted to overlap the spells together at first. That had almost caused the enchantment to implode, possibly taking him with it. The power requirements were too much of a drain and threatened to force the spells to feed on each other's residual energies.

What he did end up doing, was filling the spaces between the original algorithm. It forced him to slim down the new enchantment with a specific purpose, but it worked. He could now tell distances from himself to a specific target. He even squeezed in a selector option that could be triggered magically. One as a rangefinder, and one for the general layout of his surroundings.

"Bearded Star, eat your heart out."

In his copy of the stallion's work, there was never any mention of this being possible. But, if Orion's suspicions were correct, then enchantments really did work more like programming code, a select set of instructions for a particular task to be carried out. Fitting another similar set had worked, but he had fumbled it in, so the next time he remade the thing he may want to consider what else he could fit in there, within reason.

He would have to research this further, after he had gotten back to Canterlot, of course. Doing so now, several thousand feet in the air may not have been the wisest location to conduct such an experiment.

In the end, it was a success, and he very much wished it had turned out to be a failure. He did not like heights.

"Orion, I carried you to the Diamond-, Iron Dog meeting. How are you that scared of heights?" Grace said, amusement heavy in her voice.

He held up an index finger. "One, I had about ten different spells ready to slow my short descent if you'd have dropped my ass." Another finger pointed up, joining the first. "Two, we were not a couple of thousand paces off the ground then. Just above the trees, really. All else fails, I could have just snagged a branch on the way down and been fine." He peeked at her. "And three, I was still friggin' distracted by the fact that you killed someone with a single punch. Fuck, Grace, you buried that poor bitch into the wood. I wouldn't be surprised if her ghost is trapped on that particular plank."

He could see his friend blush in embarrassment. Not from mortification of actually killing someone, but from suddenly revealing a side of her that she had kept hidden from him.

"It's that terrifying for you? I mean, the whole flying bit?" She tactfully avoided the subject of her killing Lotti.

"It is. Oh, don't get me wrong. I am perfectly fine on an airship. Unicorns on board routinely cast spells to keep travelers on the deck by using a barrier. That is safe." He said, leaning his back against the couch seat. He was not trusting himself to get up just yet.

"But it's still high in the air. In fact, it's way higher than we are now. The ship engines could fail, the air bladder could rupture." She folded her hands and leaned forward.

"Yes, but airships are maintained by a flight crew. Those behemoths don't leave the ground without a full work-up inspection, not to mention they know how to patch holes quickly. Also, those air bladders have chambers. So if one ruptures, it doesn't take the whole craft down with it." He couldn't mention the few times he had flown on actual human aircraft. But his inquiries when he was young and coming from Stalliongrad had allayed his fears back then. "My first time on one was coming to Manhattan from Marussia. Remember?"

"Oooohhhh yeah. I had forgotten." She nodded, then smirked. "Sounds like you have a selective fear."

"Very."

Quiet made its way into the small cab. The rush of air and the distant beat of wings was the only thing that could be heard as the two became lost in their own thoughts.

Suddenly, Grace broke the silence.

"Orion…I just want to apologize. For…everything." Her thumb claws circled one another in a nervous pattern. "I-I know it was your decision, fuck you even insisted on it. But I'm more sorry for inviting you up here to begin with."

"Grace, come on…" He began, but she quickly squashed his protest.

"No!" Her palms smacked the cushions in frustration, and she fixed him with an anguished look. "Orion, I put you in the spotlight. Griffon nobility knows about you! They know what you did. Not to mention Rosebreast likely already hates you now. I deceived you by not telling you what I was, who I was." She shook her head. "A lie by omission is still a lie, as my uncle would say. And while I may have to do it for some, I shouldn't have done it to you." She sniffed, and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "Orion, you could have died had it been another pack. A more aggressive pack. Or had Lotti managed to get into your room that night." One tear escaped her eye. "You could have died."

"Fuck me; she's really torn up about this." It was true; she never said anything about her rank and title in any form, and it had pissed him off. At the same time, he understood why she had done it. When it came to the government, the fewer citizens knew, the better for the government. Back in his world, it would be a bad deal, but here, it was simply for security.

If someone had read their back-and-forth mail and tried to take advantage of that in some way, there might have been consequences no one wanted to pay.

He wanted to laugh. Weren't they supposed to still be mad at one another?

"Grace." He spoke firmly. "I understand why. I'm not sweeping this under the rug. It was a dick thing to do, that is true, but it was the only option you had if you wanted to keep talking to me." He leaned forward and grabbed her hand. "I had no fuckin' clue what your life was like after you left the orphanage. The shit you went through to survive against people who did not want you there, I had no clue at all. That is hell for someone so young."

"I…I know, but-"

"But nothing." He said softly. "You…you were blinded by your infatuation with me." Both winced at that. While she had accepted that she had taken her crush on him a little too personally, it was still a sensitive subject neither had approached just yet, and this certainly wasn't the time for it. "And that can make someone do some pretty crazy things. Listen." He licked his lips, finding them a little dry. "It's okay to want things. You didn't abuse your power or authority to get them, however. Yes, you didn't tell me, but what would have happened if you did?"

She thought for a moment, her brow furrowing cutely.

"Man, too late now, but she is really adorable when she's trying."

"Message traffic…is likely read by agents of the Throne of Equestria. Due to your close friendship with the Princess's student. You may never have received a single letter from me otherwise." He smiled and nodded.

"Exactly. I would have never known."

"But still…"

"But nothing. Life happens, and in all honesty, this is likely the best outcome. I got to help your people reclaim something that, in all likelihood, was taken from you." He shrugged uncomfortably, not liking his current conclusions about Griffonia's almost catastrophic decline. "I feel good about it, and I'm having a blast getting into trouble up here in Meatland. I mean Griffonia." He paused. "Hell, I even got you guys pets!"

Grace cracked a smile at that, and he grinned back. He hoped she got the joke and didn't seriously consider the Iron Dogs pets of any sort. They may be stupid now, but they were still thinking, breathing beings.

"Still friends? Unless, of course, you don't want to be friends with the coolest mother fucker in town…"

Her smile broadened, and she punched him in the arm.

"The coolest? Pfft! Maybe lukewarm." She giggled while he rubbed his arm.

The hurt look on his face wasn't for show.

"Jesus Christ, if that was playful, I don't want anything to do with that when she's pissed!"

"Dude, at least give me ice water." He groused. Finally, feeling comfortable enough to sit back in his own seat. The bob of the coach was barely noticeable now, which did wonders for his stomach.

"Maybe…" she tapped her beak thoughtfully, "cave water." She giggled. "Okay, Orion. Okay, you are right. I cannot lament what could have happened. I can only make do with what is." She fixed him with a stern expression. "But don't go seeking any more trouble, you understand?"

"Hey, I can't help what comes my way. I swear it's like I'm cursed or some shit." He flopped back fully in his seat and stared at the ceiling.

"Well-"

Three swift pounds above cut her off. They were landing.

"Changing porters?" Orion asked curiously. "Fuck, considering what we just went through, they need a break from hauling our big asses across the sky."

Grace nodded absently, a curious expression on her face, before sticking her head out past the door she had suddenly opened. Air blasted into the cab, battering the colt full in the face, reminding him that they were still thousands of feet up in the air once again.

Or, he supposed, he didn't want to turn on the Range Finder enchantment again to find out. Screwing around with that now may just bring his stomach issues back, along with the fear.

Pulling her head back in and slamming the door shut, she laughed a little at his terrified expression.

"We've made it! It seems going through the storm actually pushed us closer to the city than I thought. It was dangerous, but we cut time off our journey. Still…let's not do that again." She muttered that last bit and began collecting her things.

The landing was a very rough affair. One minute they were coasting along in a gentle descent; the next, they dropped like a stone only to come to a jarring halt that drove his heart up into his brain.

His initial desire was to bounce straight out of the carriage and beat the hell out of them. But upon seeing the state of those that were stuck on the porter crew, he swiftly changed his mind.

They looked terrible. While the oils in their feathers had helped them stay aloft, they still looked like drowned cats. Fur matted where the wind hadn't been able to blow it dry, and feathers looked more like they had been stuck on with hot glue. Now he felt even worse about going through the "squall" as Gilda had called it. Speaking of, she looked no better than the rest, leaning against a rear wheel and glaring at him.

Walking up to her, he reached out a hand. "Hey, if you'd like, I know a spell that would remove and straighten a lot of that. I've heard preening can be a bit of a pain in the ass. I can cast it on you…"

"NO!" She squawked. "No, sorry, Orion. But no. Thank you, but preening is a…"

He felt his face heating up red hot. He had forgotten a key rule to preening. Unless it was family or a lover, no one helped another with their feathers. That was universal for both pegasi and griffons.

"Ah, shit. I forgot. Sorry, Sergeant."

"It is no trouble. Just keep that in mind for next time. Not everyone will be as understanding." Smoothly, she pushed herself up and ran claws through what she could without stripping. "My Lady, we are here."

Turning, he blinked, eyes going wide as he peered past Grace, and at the city itself.

"Holy shit…" He breathed.

Before him stretched the coastline of Seacrest, they had been following the last couple of days. The locals called this stretch of land something else, but he couldn't remember what. However, that wasn't what had caught his attention. Just inland was a series of rocky spires towering into the sky with buildings being attached and carved into them. With the sun just beginning to hit the western horizon, he could see lights blossoming on their surface, starting from the bottom and working their way up.

At the base of those spires were marketplaces, an expansive pure white beach, and several large structures he supposed might be either government buildings or homes for the rather large pony population that resided in the city-state.

"It is beautiful." Murmured Grace, who had stepped up beside him. They were on a landing platform for incoming airborne vessels, one of six at the north end of the city. The small carriage they had come in seemed even smaller as it sat alone in the center of the massive landing pad.

"Been here before?" He asked, trying to tear his sight away from the stunning view. A closer look revealed those spires to be white as snow, like the beach before them.

"Yes. A couple of times now, but in a more official capacity. I was learning how to broker trade deals with my uncle." She sighed. "We have been bargaining from a position of lesser status for centuries now, and while His Majesty is an excellent negotiator, we never quite get the better end of those disputes."

"That…that honestly blows." Then he smiled. "Shouldn't be for much longer, thanks to Lady Hardwind." She smiled back.

It had been difficult those first couple of days to get the pair to agree to anything. Both seemed to resent each other for some historical reason he was not aware of, and didn't want to be the first to give in.

Not to mention Gabriele Fairheart was like a territorial cat finding a strange feline in her barn. It had taken a stern talking to from her husband to settle her down. A partnership was eventually formed from those negotiations, one tying the fortunes of both Houses to the success or failure of Aviary.

Orion was extremely confident that both families would only rise from this, but he was concerned that once the deal was done, the old animosity would return.

"Yes, but you never did tell me what she had done to cross you so badly." She gave him a look, one far different from the one she had given when he had told her of the vague details the first time. Those details were more of cliff notes and a lie making Hardwind seem paranoid in thinking he was a spy.

It was a complete fabrication, and judging by Grace's expression, she had known it for the falsity it was.

He looked around and shook his head. "Ask your uncle or aunt when you get back."

Her face morphed into anger before suddenly softening. Looking about, she must have concluded the same as he did, too much risk of people learning about something they shouldn't.

"I understand." She said and turned away from him.

"Ouch." She wasn't happy. Hadn't been happy for a while with him, and it wasn't the loss of romance.

Grace did not like when people kept secrets from her. Hated it, in fact, and she had made it known when she, he, and Eberhard were going through Lotti's missives and journals.

Eberhard had kept too much from her over the years. Secrets that, as she grew older, she should have known. Orion was no better on this trip. It was like scrapping the wound raw again each time.

"Master Lonelycall. I need you to stop treating me with hatchling tenderness. Too much has happened that I find out only too late. Lotti's possible deception should have been known to me, and I was kept in the dark." She had begun to say their last night in Aviary. "It is your duty to inform me of possible problems in the future. While I cannot address every issue, having them known to me will help me make better decisions in regard to those issues. I've been working with one arm tied, and it has caused me no end of grief."

Then her gaze fell on him.

"Orion. Does everything have to be hidden in the shadows with you?" Her question, where he had expected his own rebuke, had thrown him off. Rather than give him a chance to answer, she carried on. "Since the day I met you, you have kept things from me. From me and others, I suspect. What those are, I don't know; however, the lies stop."

Eberhard had taken her tirade with practiced repose, but his eyes practically glowed when she mentioned the colt's own secret keeping.

However, at the time, he did not notice, more stunned that she would attempt to badger him. It boiled his blood that she put him on the spot like that, and he exploded at her in response.

"My secrets are mine alone, and as far as you're concerned, Grace," he spat venom in her name that made her recoil in shock, "that is none of your business! I will tell you there is no hidden plan behind what I am doing here in Griffonia. None!" He breathed deeply, resolving himself to a course of action he never thought he would take, not with her. "Don't you EVER make a demand of me again. I am not yours to command, and I could care less if it's Celestia herself that gives the order. I will not allow myself to be manipulated like that. Never again."

After that, he stormed out. Only later, after he had calmed down, did he realize he had accidentally slipped up in his heat, though it was slight. But by then, he was just too tired to care.

Morning came on the day of their departure for Neighbon, and he didn't even look at her. Not out of disgust, but because he didn't trust himself not to say anything to worsen the whole thing.

He could have handled it better. He knew he should have. But her accusation and demand had hurt more than he thought they would. He also understood her position and the stress she was under. For all intents and purposes, she was a ruler in her own right. Seacrest was her domain, and she was striving hard to take it back from the clutches of Rosebreast.

Eberhard had seen them off. But before departure, there was a very unreadable look being directed his way by the spy. Orion suddenly found himself caring a great deal about the night before, and what he had said in the dusty old bird's presence.

It wasn't until the second day of their journey that the two reconciled. It was awkward, and he was still feeling spiteful over the whole ordeal. She should have known better. So when the vote to wait or go through the storm came up, he had picked the position in opposition to hers.

That was a mistake, of course.

There was still a great deal of tension between them. A rollercoaster of emotions that he knew he might have already addressed, but she was still struggling through.

Part of him still wondered if he was making a mistake. The smart way to go would have been to just leave once she had accepted that he would not see her as any more of a friend. Head on back to Equestria and be done with it all.

However, there was the project and his worry that something may go wrong. He could not leave with the success of such an undertaking in the balance.

Then there was Grace. He couldn't deny that the night of Rosebreast's little trap did not have his heart quicken. She was beautiful, funny, and sweet, and lately, she has been showing the more crafty and devious side of her mind.

But how could he be with anyone when he couldn't even tell them who and what he really was? He wasn't safe, nor, if the truth came out, was he safe to be around. Then there were the murders and disappearances. Someone was out there, hunting people like him.

Shaking his head, he retrieved his bags from under the carriage and turned around.

He spotted his friend speaking with a hippogriff, who he assumed was the Dockmaster of the platform they landed on.

It was his first time seeing one of the uncommon griffon-pony hybrids.

For one thing, the drake or stallion, he wasn't sure which they referred to their males as was thin. Not grotesquely so, but certainly noticeable compared to the griffons carrying their packs and passing by.

Average in height, he was wildly colorful in a red and blue pattern that likely warred for dominance under the bright white toga with loose leggings to match. The only indication of his station was a sash that crossed over his chest, clasped together with a gold pin in the shape of wings and an anchor.

Orion had not read much up on their culture before his departure. In truth, he couldn't imagine he would be coming here before he left Equestria.

"...Yes, your Ladyship. It does cost thirty-two." He overheard as he got closer.

"That is a lot more than my last visit." She groused at him. The hippogriff smiled apologetically.

"That may be due to the fact that you were expected on your last visit. We had already reserved a Plateforme for you and your uncle's visit." He gestured at their carriage and blinked in surprise when his eyes landed on the colt. "But you have arrived, unexpected this time, and without reservation. We will have to redirect craft to land elsewhere, and that costs time. And time, as we both are aware, is money."

"What's wrong?" Orion asked Grace.

"The Maître de Quai insists on us paying thirty-two Pranc in order to keep our carriage here." The hen huffed in exasperation.

"Is that a lot?"

"It's a day, and yes. Bit to Pranc is currently one point eight or nine to one. Depending on weight."

"Nearly sixty bits. That is a lot considering the cost is only fifteen in the Canterlonian Docks."

"Why the markup?"

The hippogriff arched an eyebrow before pointing to the city.

For a moment, he did not get it. Then it smacked him like a brick.

"A tourist vacation hotspot. Fucking duh."

"I'll cover it." He shrugged, setting his bags down before going to his hip to grab at the coin purse there.

"Orion! You can't! That is a ridiculous amount." But he was already counting out the coins; other than the initial few purchases, he had quite a lot of bits left over. Though by the time he got back home, he was thinking he may want to take on a few more jobs to replenish his stock.

"We are staying here a couple of weeks, right?" He asked, and Grace numbly nodded her head in defeat. She knew the routine by now. She said don't, and he did it anyways.

He handed over eight-fifty.

"Sir, this is too much." The Dockmaster said in surprise.

"Consider it a tip for dealing with an unscheduled landing. I'm afraid this was my fault, after all. I insisted on coming here pretty much at the last minute." He put a shamed grin on his face.

"I see." He said, and bowed low, pocketing the bits in two coin purses of his own. "I will ensure all due effort in maintaining your carriage is carried out."

"Just make sure no one jacks it, and we are all good." He shrugged, grabbing his satchel and slinging it over his shoulder. "Oh hey! Do you know a decent place to rent? As you can no doubt tell," he gestured to himself, "I can't fly. So we are gonna need something a little closer to the ground so everyone can be happy."

Instead of answering, the hippogriff male cocked his head to the side, the smaller-than-normal beak scrunching up in confusion.

"What?"

"Um. Forgive me, Sir, but you don't strike me as an Equestrian. From where do you hail?"

Orion snorted. His vernacular once again outed him as a stranger.

"I came from Marussia, Stalliongrad. But I live in Canterlot now." No need to tell the poor guy he was also an orphan. The way his head jerked back in surprise may just give him whiplash.

"Ah." That was all he said at first. Then he shook himself. "Apologies. I am not usually so invasive. Just your…word selection has caught me off guard. You may wish to seek the Oceanview. It caters to ponies and griffons alike."

"It's no problem, and thanks. I keep telling myself to make up some cards. You wouldn't believe how often I get asked that particular question." It was his turn to tilt his head. "Since we are on the subject of questions, I got two for you. Make that three. What do you guys call your males and females? I'm afraid it was never really covered in school."

That was putting it mildly. The one time Neighbon was mentioned as anything more than a geographical location on a map, was when it was mentioned what goods they traded in. Pony education seemed really selective in what they covered about other races. Almost like everything not equine was an afterthought.

"Ah, I see. We actually call ourselves drake or hen. We prefer the griffon way of speaking as well. You should fit in quite well here." The drake said with a smile.

"Oh, cool. I was worried about that. Secondly, why do you sound like you're from Prance?"

"Now, that is a very common question, Sir. It is our education. When our nation first formed, we had nothing set up to teach our young. We were alone and lost adrift in the waves. The Prench were the ones to offer aid in the form of trade and education. Even today, many of our young spend a year or two in Prance to refine skills only touched upon here." He nodded.

"That makes a lot of sense. Children tend to mirror their educators. So it would still hold true even here. They are essentially a French colony, without the French needing to live here." It also explained their currency.

"Alright, and last question. Why is it so warm here? It's practically tropical!" Spotting a pair of palm trees just over the hippogriff's shoulder, he amended his declaration. "Scratch that; it is tropical here. What's the deal?"

"Ah, that is not a usual question I receive. I would direct you to ask that of Mademoiselle Charter. She knows the area and weather far more than anyone else here. By the way, my name is Safe Harbor. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to call on me."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind, and I appreciate the tip on Charter. Now," turning to face Grace, he found her gone. "Okay, where the hell did she go?"

"I believe she rejoined the rest of your entourage. I must say, I am surprised to see a pony traveling with such an esteemed company. The King of Griffonia's niece is certainly no one to turn up one's beak to."

"Yeah, we lived in the same house for a while, a long time ago. Thanks again Safe, have a good one." He left the hippogriff there; judging by what his Radar was telling him, the drake looked to be gaping at him. He would have to keep trying to refine the resolution further later, but it was getting quite good.

"...Oceanview will be our destination. I believe I can accommodate everyone's stay." She said with a frown. Hesitancy was heavy in her voice.

"What's wrong?" He asked, stepping up next to her and dropping his bag once again.

"What is wrong, is you’re too trusting of strangers, Orion. Oceanview is notoriously expensive, even by pony standards." She grumbled.

"Ah, I figured as much." He shrugged.

"You…you knew? And you simply nodded and said okay?"

"Well yeah. Because I asked Eberhard before we left, and he said the Crimsonwave would be more to our liking. It caters mostly to griffons, but it's on the beach to the south." He grinned.

"Then why ask?!" She nearly shrieked, and he raised his hands to placate her.

"The reason I asked is the same reason I acted like an idiot back in Aviary." He shrugged under her glare. "To be honest, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I only thought of it because I've counted at least twenty ponies in the streets alone. As long as I appear to be just another tourist, I won't stand out too much."

Grace grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the guards. They, in turn, shrugged, grabbed their things, and began filling off the platform. Only Gilda remained behind, watching everyone and everything like a hawk.

"Something is bothering you." It was not a question.

Orion looked around, not meeting her gaze for a moment, noting that the Dockmaster was still watching them curiously.

"I'm back amongst ponies, Grace. I know you don't think I know the extent of how bad things can get for me if someone were to find out about my involvement in Aviary. And a prison sentence is the least of them."

Her sudden sharp intake of breath caused him to wince.

"Yes, I am well aware. I looked into the laws currently in the books about helping foreign nations. I have some leeway because I'm a civilian, but in truth, that won't mean a hill of shit when it comes to the nobles." He scowled. "You have trade agreements, but no formal peace treaties between Equestria and Griffonia. That means you're considered an enemy nation by law. Helping you, even as a civilian, will be tantamount to treason, considering what I am providing you with. That's death." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Even if I figured it out by myself, the law, and more importantly, the nobles will not care. They will prod Celestia into some kind of action, and with pony society's view on anything, not them, I'll have the Book thrown at me."

"B-but if you know, then why risk it?" He looked at her flatly, his gray eyes flashing in the afternoon sun. "No…it can't be that simple."

"Yeah. It can." He smiled ruefully. "Besides, if I ever need a favor…"

"You know we would not hesitate…Orion, this is extraordinarily risky. If Celestia were to ever find out…."

"Then you, nor any of those attached to you, shouldn’t say a goddamn word about what I am doing up here." He poked her in the arm. "Regardless of what anyone thinks, this is the right thing to do. I don't want to see another kid go hungry as I did all those years ago. Now come on, I don't know about you, but I don't want to be carrying my shit around all afternoon!"

Turning her about with a gentle hand, as she was still in a daze from his admittance, he flashed the Dockmaster with a toothy grin; he and Grace left the platform to chase after her quickly disappearing guard. Gilda was dead on their heels.

Celestia smiled to herself as the door to her study clicked close with a soft snap leaving her in the silence of well-earned accomplishment.

"Well, that was more difficult than I had expected. But the end result should put Orion under far more control than what Mrs. Evergarden has been able to do as of late."

It was obvious the troublesome colt was far too much of a burden for the poor mare.

A fact that she had ignored up till now because he had largely behaved in a reasonable fashion. However, between his departure to Griffonia, his efforts to keep the knowledge of that flight from her, and Evergarden's seeming willingness to help in that deception, it was high time he had been brought to heel.

In truth, she never imagined the colt would be able to cause her so much trouble considering his position. At least, at first. Going over her encounters with him over the few short years, she has gotten a distinct impression that he mostly does whatever he reasons out to be correct. Regardless if it wasn't the right course in anypony else's opinion.

What bothered her more was the fact he now had access to another ruler, though likely very limited. Grace Fairheart's uncle was not a King to allow just anypony to approach them. Considering how long Shining Armor and his team had been away, another irritation, it was a good wager to think the colt had managed to weasel into his good graces at least somewhat enough to find some protection. Likely only done to irritate her specifically.

It was working.

As to what he did in order to do so was beyond her current imagining, but she considered it troubling nonetheless.

Still, once he was back in hand, the issue of his unruliness would be quickly put to rest. She had let this go on for far too long. Picking up the first sheaf of paper in a large stack, she sighed and mentally prepared herself for the rest of what was likely going to stretch into a late evening.

A knock, commanding, and swift, broke her from her work not ten minutes later. "Cadenza." She didn'tneed to sense the ripple of familiar power to know who it was. "For a mare that is often seen as languid, she certainly goes about her duties with urgency."

Celestia did not like the young Alicorn. If she could have prevented her ascension, she would have, but forces set forth long before she had fallen into her care had robbed her of that opportunity. Now she was stuck with the Love Princess, who consistently stretch the boundaries of the restraints she had placed on her, and had no real notion of what to do with her.

At this point, she was ready to make herself an ambassador just to get her out of the palace. Cadence had far too much influence over her protégé as it was, even if she served her purposes in bringing the filly to her. The mare had caught on too quickly to what she had been up to, not to mention, her own eagerness had been a dead giveaway.

"Enter." Celestia said crisply. Already going through the mental exercises needed to blank her mind and dull the aura she displayed, a tedious practice, but the Alicorn of Love was too good at inferring what she wished to remain hidden.

Stepping inside after making the door just wide enough for her expansive bosom and rear, the lesser princess quickly shut the door behind her.

"The Minotaurs have brokered a trade deal with the Saddle Arabians."

No Princess, no Your Highness. The mare had gotten worse since her pursuit of that stallion.

It didn't matter. There was no audience, and Celestia wasn't about to squabble over unimportant issues in the face of frightening news.

"How? More importantly, when?" She asked, careful to keep the irritation she felt under that mask of mental fog.

Apparently, it was not enough by the widening of the Alicorn's eyes, but she didn't bother to mention the loss of composure.

"Six days ago. We only received word of it this afternoon." Celestia very nearly cursed.

"Do we know the details?" She asked in a calm tone she did not feel. "Why now? After so long!"

"From the announcement, it is a simple commodities arrangement." The Love Princess's lips turned down into a frown. "However, I and Intelligence, believe that to be a cover. The quantities are too low. The prices are far too high."

Celestia did curse then. A string of expletives that caused Cadence's eyebrows to disappear into her perfectly styled mane.

Standing, she marched onto her balcony to cool down and center her mind. Build back the mental walls. She had been losing her temper far too often as of late. The sun was beginning its downward arc toward the Unicorn Range, it's warm light small comfort as she wrestled her emotions into something close to calm.

After a while, she spoke again. Not turning around. She didn't trust herself yet to turn around and face the message bearer.

"There is more, isn't there." It was not a question.

Smoothly the younger Alicorn stepped into the periphery of her eye and nodded. It was good to know that she had the decorum not to attempt to do more.

"I'm afraid so." And she truly sounded like she was. "The ambassador set to arrive in Griffonia is not the minotaur we thought him to be." She swallowed. Hard. Her face showed fear and concern all at once. "It is not Gnokas Bellfounder, but King Talmos Ironvein. With three battalions of troops and no less than three supporting airships with the four warships under his command." It was a war fleet.

"Talmos…" she breathed. The one creature in this world that could compete with her in influence was still alive after five hundred years? "Are you certain?"

"Yes. It was confirmed by a winged flight of pegasi near the Isles of Bales. They were warded away, but not before getting a good look at the deck. From all three reports, the minotaur on that deck matches the description."

Celestia fairly growled. They had met only once, and despite her power and authority, he had dismissed her like some scullery maid. She often tried not to let her ego have too much leeway, but to be treated and outright ignored in such a way had been the most embarrassing event in her long existence.

That singular moment had nearly fractured her hold on Prance itself. Being made to look weak was not something an upstart nation needed to see of her, and it took another decade to remove that tarnish.

"And I can assume Intelligence has no clue as to what he is doing out of his kingdom?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Cadence shook her head. "They are scrambling. Most are still reeling at the fact that it is him, right down to the scar that has cost him sight in his left eye."

A sudden thought struck her. Orion Falls was in Griffonia. Not likely in Griffonstone itself, all things considered, the obvious stopping place for Talmos, but still. Worse. She had a team of ponies hunting for him. With no certainty of where they might actually be, and no way to recall them.

Ironvein loathed ponies with an intensity that rivaled her own sun. Her last attempt at ambassadorship had resulted in the ambassador she had sent killed and strung up on the Wall itself. Her and her entire retinue.

What would he do upon finding Shining Armor there?

What made this all the more strange was the deal with Saddle Arabia. The Sultan, and his people, were all technically ponies. To form a trade agreement with them in any capacity must mean something significant.

"Cadenza…do you have a way to contact your beloved?" The mare's widening eyes said she had just come to the same fear as her own.

"I...I do. A Sordé Val."

Celestia nodded. She wasn't really surprised, but a Sordé Val was nearly Dark Magic. No, it was Dark Magic when one considered the ramifications of employing it on somepony. Considering her years of pursuit of a mate, it was not hard to imagine she learned of the magic of contacting somepony remotely by impressing their essence on one another. It was evil in truth, but only against the unwilling. Shining was at least willing.

"We must at least warn him of the danger." She quickly informed the Love Princess of what had transpired the last time Talmos had encountered an Equestrian.

Cadence whimpered. Actually whimpered as her horn burst to life in a brilliant glow of pink, already the undisguised spell forming the runes and algorithms to initiate contact.

Before them, in the same glow of magic as the caster, a ball of light blossomed forth. Singular and alone in its revolving dance of pinks and purples. But soon, a blue hue began infusing the ball, creating a blurring swirl of a multitude of colors. Shapes soon appeared, then all at once Shining Armor's handsome visage formed, blood splashed across his face as he viciously skewered somepony on his blade. His teeth bared in a snarl of anger.

"Was that a griffon?"

"Candy!?" He shouted, his breath coming in quick bursts as he glanced about him. "Baby, now is a really bad-" He snapped his head up and to the right. "I TOLD YOU TO KNOCK THOSE ARCHERS DOWN! IF YOU DON'T GET THOSE BUCKERS, GERHARD IS GOING TO HAVE A TARTARUS OF A TIME BREAKING THEIR LINES!" He spun around and continued his tirade at somepony across from him. "GET YOUR TAILFEATHERS MOVING, YOU BUCKING BIRDBRAINS!" He gestured with his sword. "VAL! TAKE THE SPEAR SQUAD AND FLANK THEM! RAM IT WHERE IT HURTS!"

Both princesses looked at each other. Celestia, eyes merely showed annoyance rather than concern mixed with surprise at the stallion's sudden vulgar language. Cadence's face showed an odd combination of worry, fear, and pride of all things.

Composing himself, he gave a sad smile as he turned toward his love once more. "I'm sorry, Cadence, but now is really not a good time."

"What is not a good time? Lieutenant Armor?" The Sun Princess's stern voice spoke evenly, nearly making him fall over in shock.

"PRINCESS?!" He practically shrieked.

"Yes. And you have exactly one minute to inform me what you are doing. I sent you to find a colt, not participate in a war!" She hissed, coming into view of the globe of light and pushing Cadence aside with little protest.

"Ah….haha….um…crap…"