The Wonderbolts are not just acrobats and speedsters. We can be called on to aid in times of hardship and disaster if the need arises, but we never kill the monsters we encounter, only hold them down until the Guard arrives. We never cross that line.

-Spitfire

On a private field high in Cloudsdale under the late morning sun, a cluster of pegasi were sitting and lounging around a small laptop. Far from enjoying themselves, shades of surprise and concern lined their faces. One of the older stallions in the group looked positively terrified, as did the yellow and orange mare with her forehoof on the keys.

Their view of the happenings far away was shifted as the pegasus on the other end of the connection put his helmet back on. When he spoke, he sounded disappointed, like a father explaining to his filly that she shouldn’t have had ice cream before dinner.

“Spitfire…and the rest of you I hear on the other end, I don’t have the time or mental energy to deal with the ramifications of what you’ve done right now. So here is what you’re going to do. You’re going to cut that connection the moment I am done talking. Assuming we make it out of here, I’ll see if I can’t get you all pardoned for being illegally on this comm channel. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Spitfire answered, her voice quavering.

“Good. Now shut it off.”

Spitfire let go of the computer, and Twitch leaned over and started tapping the keys. When she was done, the two way communications were shut off, but the computer was still linked into Shadow’s video feed.

“Twitch, what are you doing?”

“Well, we can’t get in any more trouble right? After all, we did just get busted. I want to see what happens next. You’re all free to leave if you don’t want to. Oh and, I also password locked the options on the sound and video input, so nopony can screw with it if I don’t let them.”

Nopony moved, and Twitch giggled.

“I guess you all want to see what’s going on too.”

“Your hacking got us into this trouble in the first place.”

“Right you are, but you gave me your approval, and you were the one that got us caught. Moreover, everypony here gave their agreement by staying. Either way, there is nothing we can do about it now.”

“I guess you’re right, I’m sorry, Twitch.”

“No problem, Spits!” replied Twitch brightly. “Now let’s see how this show ends.”

Returning their attention to Shadow and Crash, they saw the two had not moved save for holding up their rifles, ready to fire. They were both sitting back on their haunches, taking careful aim out the window. Shadow’s helmet visor was off, and he has his eye pressed up to the scope.

“What are they waiting for?” asked Twitch.

“I don’t kn-“

“Fire.” Shadow ordered, calm and cold. The sheer volume of noise that rang out from the speakers was so large that Twitch had to get up and turn them down.

BOOMskowskowskowskowskowskowskowBOOMskowskowskowskowskowBOOMskowskowskowskowskowskowskowskowskowskowBOOMskowskowskowskowskowskowBOOMskowskow…BOOM.

Right as Twitch finished turning down the sound, Crash dropped his magazine to load another, and took off sprinting toward the door. As he ran, his gear shifted from the even black to match its surroundings. Shadow took half a moment to fire one more round, and then dropped his entire gun to the ground in order to scoop Chaff’s shotgun up before taking off after Crash.

Within seconds both of the pegasi had left the cabin and were nestled in the shadow of a large tree about twenty lengths from the cabin. The shade alone would have hidden them well, but with their camouflage they were practically invisible. Now, the slightest motion disturbed the stillness as Shadow slowly turned his shotgun to point toward the crater, while Crash gently pulled the tube off his back, taking careful aim at the cabin door as they waited.

That wait was not long, for less than a minute later, a chorus of flapping noises announced the arrival of a mass of flying creatures. Spitfire didn’t have time to count all of them but there had to be at least thirty griffons in the air, all wearing the golden capes of Rex Augilares. They were sporting a motley mix of rifles, pistols, knives, and one was even carrying a sabre. They stopped to hover over the scene, and the one carrying the sword started yelling out what Spitfire guessed were orders in a series of screeches and roars. Once he finished, half of the flock broke off toward the crater left by the shock-boom, while their leader took the other half toward the cabin.

The griffons landed and started to look around, pointing their weapons cautiously around the clearing. Neither of the ponies moved save for slight corrections to their aim. The closest one by the crater was ten lengths away, and Shadow was staring right at him through the peep and post of the sights. Over by the cabin, most of the griffons, including their leader had already gone inside, and were squawking in what sounded like surprise and anger.

“Go.” Shadow whispered, and to Spitfire, everything once again seemed to speed up too fast to follow.

As soon as the word left his lips, Shadow flexed his foreleg and shot the first griffon, the buckshot quietly tearing it pieces. At the same time, Crash fired his launcher, and the rocket streaked through the front door of the cabin. Shadow buried his face into the ground right before it detonated, and covered his head with a foreleg. A split-second later, the screen went pure white, and a sound halfway between buzzing and hissing sounded softly, much like a unicorn flash-boiling a pot of water. After two long seconds the sound faded away, and the gamma on the computer slowly returned to normal.

When Shadow looked back up, the cabin was in shambles. The roof was gone, as well as much of the walls. What little remained was completely blackened, as if carbonized, and on fire. Even the few griffons that had not made it inside had been killed by the blast, blackened and charred to a crisp.

After that split second’s observation of the cabin, Shadow turned his attention back toward the crater. About half of the griffons there had been blinded by the flash of light accompanying the explosion and were covering their eyes, cawing in agony. Those who were not completely incapacitated by the blast were standing still, stunned into inaction by the suddenness of it all. They were given no time to recover.

Yelling savagely, Crash and Shadow rose up in unison and let loose with everything they had. Bullets and buckshot tore into the griffons with savage fury and staccato noise. Shadow was firing as fast as the shotgun’s mechanism would go. Being so close to an explosion followed by being fired upon was too much for the griffons, and instead of standing their ground and returning fire, they fled into the trees, diving behind whatever cover they could find. They were not so swift as to avoid losing half their number to the brutal assault.

Right as the last of the fleeing griffons found cover, Crash’s rifle ran empty, Shadow having spent the last of his shells a moment before. He cast aside the empty weapon and drew his pistol out of its leg holster, and started trotting toward the crater on three hooves. Behind him, Crash dropped his magazine, and loaded another before following. To Spitfire’s utter confusion, they both faded back into existence, stark black against the browns and greens of the forest. Why would they give up their advantage? Together they advanced through the crater and toward the trees on the other side.

The sudden change in volume was almost deafening. While before there was screaming and gunfire, chaos and bloodshed, now there was only the whisper of hoof-falls as the pegasi tip-hoofed their way forward. Shadow got to the close side of the nearest tree, and after pausing for a moment, swung his forelegs and torso around to the other side.

The other side of the tree was clear and innocent, and Shadow let out a tense breath. Looking to his right, Crash had just made his way around a tall pine, and found something waiting. The griffon must not have even had time to get it’s weapon up, as the only sounds were of Crash’s rifle and a shrill scream from behind the tree. Crash poked his head out and then waved Shadow forward with a few shrugs of his foreleg.

Nodding to Crash, Shadow moved completely to the other side of the trunk, and pressed forward again. Immediately ahead was a fallen tree, branches still on. It seemed to have been severed low on the trunk by some kind of blast. Rather than take the time to go around, Shadow quickened his pace to a fast trot, then snapped his wings open and glided over the top of it.

Nestled low among the branches on the far side was a shaking griffon, clutching his rifle tightly. When he saw Shadow looming over him, he desperately tried to raise the barrel to save himself, but was too slow. Shadow put three rounds into the creature, and watched it cough and drop its gun. One more carefully placed shot to the head and it fell limp.

That noise was enough to startle another griffon, who popped out from behind the closest tree and leveled her rifle at Shadow. The earth came up to greet him, as he hurled himself down to avoid the oncoming fire. Thunder rang out as the griffon sprayed bullets over his head, and Shadow hit the ground hard. Whipping up his pistol, he emptied the rest of the magazine toward the bird. His aim wasn’t quite good enough, as first one, then three, then five bullets missed. Spitfire’s breath caught in her throat as time seemed to slow and the griffin began to rotate her rifle down to point at Shadow.

In that moment as the pegasus squeezed the trigger one more time, the slide suddenly locked back. In that same moment the griffon dropped her rifle and reached up to clutch the base of her neck, blood dripping through her talons as she made a guttural choking noise.

Right as Shadow slapped a hoof against the magazine release, two more griffons showed their faces from the foliage, one from behind a bush, the other clinging to a tree trunk three lengths above the ground. The one behind the bush took the time to roar like a lion in challenge to Shadow, while the other began firing wildly with the one claw it was holding it’s weapon in.

For lack of any other options, Shadow dove for the nearest cover, which was the tree about ten lengths to his front with the griffon he’d just shot. Mid-leap, he yelled in pain as one of the bullets found its mark. Lacking all grace and control, Shadow rammed headlong into the tree and lay stunned for a moment. Crash began to yell at him as he lay still.

With a shudder he recovered and pressed himself down into the pine needle bed, ensuring that the hail of projectiles would not fall on him. Momentarily safe, he looked over at the griffon, who had picked her gun back up. He bashed her claw with a forehoof, knocking it out, and then whipped his empty pistol across her beak. She fell backwards, coughing through the blood in her windpipe, unable to get back up.

No longer worried about imminent harm, Shadow looked back at his hindleg. The right one had a short gash across where the bullet had grazed it, cutting open his suit and skin. It was bleeding noticeably, and Shadow winced at the sight. The sound of Crash’s rifle, higher pitched and faster than that ones the griffons were carrying sounded briefly, and the bullets landing around Shadow ceased. In the reprieve, he reached onto his belt for a magazine which he promptly shoved into his pistol. After chambering a round, he poked his head around the tree.

The griffon formerly on the tree was now on the ground, flat on its back and still. Over behind the bush, the second griffon was reloading its rifle, and had just put a talon on the charging handle of the weapon when Crash shot it too. The creature collapsed to the ground, writhing noisily in the brush. Taking careful aim, Shadow put a round between its eyes, stopping the convulsions.

“You ok there, Hunter?” asked Crash quietly over the radio. He hadn’t budged, and was still holding up his rifle and looking ahead into the trees. Shadow turned away from Crash and did the same before answering.

“Yeah, got hit but I’ll be fine. If I counted right, there were three left?”

“Give or take one, but that sounds about right. Let’s end this.”

“Right.” Shadow took a deep breath, and then waved a fetlock toward a particularly thick grove ahead where the last of the griffons had vanished into. It was ringed with oak scrub, and the ground was littered with pine needles. “Let’s take this slow, I don’t want them to hear us.”

“Got it.”

The two guards advanced slowly on the thicket, spread apart perhaps ten lengths. It was hard to Spitfire to tell when Shadow was staring forward. They moved carefully, placing each step where it would crush the least dead plant material underhoof. Twenty lengths away, then ten, then Shadow was up against the edge of the scrub oak. He gingerly made his way through, waving limbs around what branches he could, and gently pushing out the way the ones he couldn’t. After another minute, they were both on the inside of the thicket, crouched and waiting until Shadow raised his unarmed forehoof.

He waved it forward once, then twice, and on the third time both ponies bolted toward the nearest piece of cover. The sudden crunch of their hooves on the pine needles and the flaps of their wings pushing them faster echoed through the trees as Shadow rounded the first trunk. There was nothing lurking behind it, but a burst of gunfire followed by a sudden screech announced that Crash had more luck in his search. Chancing a quick glance over, Shadow saw a griffon falling to the ground clutching his chest, a cluster of a half-dozen holes in it’s plumage bleeding out as he flopped and screamed. Crash was already bounding ahead. Trying to keep up, Shadow sprinted toward the next tree. He rounded the cover, pistol raised, only to be tackled before he could shoot.

The weapon fell from his grip and Shadow was dragged into the air by the larger creature. Not just bigger than Shadow, the black feathered carnivore was bigger than most of its kind. In that moment, gunfire erupted below from several sources, causing Crash to swear colorfully.

The griffon held Shadow in a crushing grip as they drew higher into the sky. Spitfire recognized what was going on with a shout. Griffons of Rex Augilares had a favorite method of killing ‘lesser beings’, namely taking them up into the air and dropping them to their deaths. If the victim was a pegasus, he or she would have his or her wings broken before being dropped.

As if reading Spitfire’s thoughts, the griffon grabbed at one of Shadow’s wings. The claw never reached its target, as Shadow jerked his neck over and bit down on the knobbly limb. Squawking in pain, the griffon drew back, blood gushing from it’s leg and dripping from Shadow’s teeth.

That opening gave Shadow the the freedom of motion to reach down with his left foreleg to wrap his fetlock around the grip of his knife and tear it loose from its sheath. With a brutal yell he plunged it deep into the feathered neck of his foe. Upon being impaled, the griffon let out a gurgle and stopped flapping its wings. Gravity began to overtake the upward motion of the combatants, but Shadow ignored this and wrenched the knife back out. For just a moment Spitfire could see that it was coated in crimson, before the pressure from the inside of the wound caused some of it to splash onto Shadow’s face. She almost became sick as the screen became a hazy red, as if she were looking into Shadow’s world through a candy wrapper.

Not content, Shadow stabbed the griffon once more in the neck, then withdrawing the blade again, plunged it into the beast’s chest feathers. By now they were both falling swiftly, with Shadow on the underside of the mess of tangled limbs. Leaving the knife buried in his enemy, Shadow batted aside the now loose claws around him and still holding onto the griffon, spread his wings wide. The force of the air flung him around to land on top of the griffon, which he grabbed roughly in his forelegs.

With three powerful flaps, Shadow drove them swiftly toward the ground. His opponent was twisting and screaming, but was too weak to escape before the few dozen lengths that separated them from the ground melted away. In a heartbeat they collided, with a nauseating crunch of breaking bones. Shadow was holding one hoof over the griffon's back, which sunk in over a hoof deep, and the other over a wing, which shattered and the shards of bone forced their way to show above the skin and feathers.

The impulse of the hit threw Shadow a few hooves in the air, and he landed shaking. As soon as he recovered, he looked around to see that Crash had taken care of not one, but three more griffins that had been hiding around the grove. The sergeant was trotting toward Shadow with a grin on his face, but stopped and winced when he got close to see Shadow’s face.

As for Shadow, he turned away from Crash, and bringing up a foreleg, wiped the blood out of his eyes. It didn’t do anything for Spitfire’s view, but left rivulets running down Shadow’s foreleg.

“They’re always bucking red...” muttered Shadow. He walked over to where the griffon lay, and roughly wiped his foreleg clean on the griffons pelt. Grabbing ahold of the knife, he yanked it out, causing the griffon to spasm. Two quick strokes served to wipe it clean too, leaving smears on the plumage. Leaning in close so the dying creature could hear, he whispered; “When you get to Tartarus, tell them that Shadow Wing sent you.”

At those words, the broken half-lion half-eagle beast lay still. Shadow stood up tall and forcefully re-sheathed his knife. He stood there for a moment before Crash walked up to his side.

“Hey, Hunter, you all there?”

“Yeah,” grunted Shadow.

“Ok, well good to hear. Lets check your leg.”

Shadow grunted and gingerly lifted his hindleg up. Crash looked it over for a bit, before nodding.

“Hmmm...yeah, that shouldn’t cause you too much trouble until we get back and have Mama Wolf patch you up. Lucky you didn’t get hit bad, I’d hate to have to carry you on the way home.” He slapped Shadow on the back and then spoke up. “Hey Savage, Chaff! We got ‘em boys! You’re home free, and we’ll be joining you in five.”

“Thank Celestia you guys made it!” cheered Savage.

“Well, I guess it deserves congratulations, I’ll pay to get you smashed tonight Hunter.” Chaff sounded pleased.

“I might actually take you up on that,” grumbled Shadow, as he looked over to the burnt out wreckage of the cabin. “Captain Skyward is probably going to burn my tail off when we get back.”

“What do you mea-oh. You left your rifle in the cabin, didn’t you?”

Shadow sighed. “Yes, I did. You think it survived?”

“No harm in checking.”

The two pegasi made their way over to the wreckage of the cabin, carefully picking their way around the bodies. Crash kicked a section of the wall with a foreleg, causing it to crumble to ash. They entered through the resulting hole, and looked around. Inside, everything was black. The dirt of the floor cracked underhoof, and piles of bones and gear lay scattered about, burnt and carbonized. Inside the next room, Shadow’s rifle still lay propped on the wall to where the window was. In excitement, he rushed over to grab it.

As soon as hoof met rifle, the scope lenses collapsed into a fine powder, leaving a pile of glittering ash on the floor. Where he touched the weapon it had bent inward, and Shadow yanked his hoof back with a curse.

“Hot?”

Shadow glowered at Crash and looked back at the rifle. The disturbance had caused it to shift, and the weakened metal of the frame bowed down under it’s own weight until the entire weapon was curved.

“Well, I’m fucked.”

“Hey, we’ll vouch for you. We got the princess out alive right? That’s what counts.”

At that moment, the speakers crackled a bit like an old fashioned radio, and a new voice spoke up. It sounded slowed with pain, yet pleased. Where all the previous names had appeared, it read ‘Cpt. Dive Skyward.’

“That’s excellent work, boys...darn good job.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’m real glad you handled this one well, Hunter...you have no idea how happy I am. I should be well enough by this evening to debrief you with all this magic healing crap they’re pumping me full off...what? What is it Ray?...oh? Who?”

There was a faint murmuring as the other pony on the Captain’s end started to go into some kind of explanation. This kept up for about half a minute until the Captain cut him off.

“Stop. Small words, remember?”

The fellow on the other end stammered, and Skyward interrupted him again.

“Don’t worry about it. So have you got them located, and can you patch me through?...Do it.”

There was a faint *pop* as the static on the line cleaned up, and a new window appeared on the computer. It showed a middle aged stallion with a light gray coat in a hospital bed. His short medium blue mane had dried blood in it, especially against the bandage that covered the right half of his face. The one eye that it didn’t conceal was yellow-gold, and conveying an angry glare toward Spitfire. When he spoke, it was far less cheerful than before.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Receiving no answer than a bunch of frightened expressions, Dive continued on even more angrily. “Seeing as you’ve declined to answer, I will assume you don’t. You’re in violation of a private, classified Royal Guard communication channel, and I don’t think you managed to get into it by accident. Since we can’t just hope you’ll keep quiet, Lieutenant Wing here will bring you all by headquarters as soon as he gets back. Until then you will remain where you are and you will not talk about what you have just seen. Lieutenant?”

“Sir!”

“Pick up Mama Wolf and bring these...Wonderbolts by.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you,” continued Dive, his one eye glaring unforgivingly. “Don’t even think about running. We will find you if you do.”

The video feed went blank, and the words ‘call dropped’ appeared in its place. Dead silence reigned through the group, growing more and more unbearable as the moments passed. Everypony was looking at Spitfire except Tameless, who was staring at the ground. She swallowed, worked up her nerve, and then broke the silence.

“Well, guess we do exactly that then, stay here and wait, unless anypony has a better idea.” The gathering of pegasi were quiet, and so she continued. “Alright, well, so long as you stay here at the field, I don’t mind what you do.”

After a little discussion, a game of cloud-ball was arranged. The team went to play, leaving Spitfire alone with Tameless.

“I brought this on myself,” he muttered. “If I hadn’t hired him I wouldn’t have to had to deal with this.”

“Tameless...”

“Spits’...I’m worried. I can’t see this ending up well for me. Those guys didn’t mess around. You saw how they killed anything and destroyed everything that got in their way.”

“Well...yeah that was pretty horrible. But we’re the Wonderbolts! Think of the outcry if we were to ‘disappear’. And honestly, this is Equestria. What would they do?”

“You don’t sound so convinced.”

“I’m not, but worrying about it won’t help me, or anypony for that matter.”

“I suppose.” Tameless trotted off, leaving Spitfire to do exactly what she was pretending not to.

Over an hour had passed, and the sun was sitting at its noontime zenith. This left the Wonderbolts hot and sweaty, and also very hungry. Soarin’ had complained to Spitfire, and when she didn’t let him leave to get food, had walked off muttering about how both she and Shadow Wing were jerks. There was nothing unusual about Soarin’ being hungry, but it had been long enough now that Spitfire was beginning to hunger too.

Looking across the field, she could see that the cloud-ball game was still going strong, probably because the workout had been cut short by the computer escapades and her team still had a lot of energy left. As she watched, somepony kicked the ball extra hard and sent it screaming toward the cloud-walls of the practice field. It cleared the edge, and narrowly missed pegging Shadow in the face as he made his way down to land.

Instead of the combat suit he’d been wearing before, he was clad in the blue cap, sunglasses, and shirt of a Wonderbolts coach. Around his shoulders and midsection lay the wooden yoke of a common sky chariot, in which he was pulling a gray unicorn mare. Spitfire guessed this was ‘Mama Wolf’. She looked to be in her mid thirties, making the gray coat and mane natural, not the product of age. When they landed, her eyes could be made out to be a bright yellow, and she was wearing delicate looking eyeglasses with a frame made of silver wire. Her cutie mark was a pile of sticks and leaves bundled together, which was incredibly unhelpful for Spitfire, but it didn’t strike her as particularly intimidating.

Upon landing, the unicorn jumped right out, bouncing as she hit the clouds. With a quick burst of magic she freed Shadow from the yoke. The ‘bolts cautiously walked toward the odd couple, but no so quickly as to placate Shadow’s impatience. He waved at all them and motioned for them to come closer.

“Hurry up!” he spat as he waved impatiently with a foreleg. He could have been a lot louder.

Once they had all gathered around, the unicorn’s horn lit up with a double-aura, and her eyes shone with a solid pale gray. She was chanting quickly and far too quietly for Spitfire to understand, but it sure didn’t sound like the Princess’s Equestrian. Underneath their hooves a large and elaborate pentacle formed in faint gray, the many swirls and lines making it impossible for Spitfire to take in in one glance.

Everything aside from the runic lines and the ponies within went blinding white, and Spitfire put one foreleg in front of her eyes to shield them from the glare. When the light settled a few moments later, they were in a stone walled room, just large enough to fit the pentacle, which was etched half a hoof deep into the concrete floor. Smoke rose from the outer ring, which Mama Wolf crossed over, and out a door large enough to fit three ponies side by side, just as tall as wide.

“Wait here.” Shadow gave the simple instruction then made to leave the room. While Mama Wolf turned right, he went left, and the loud echoes of their hoof-falls on the concrete floor began to fade away. From the direction Shadow went came the knock of hooves on wood, and a muffled voice gave its reply. More hoof steps, then the sound of a door shutting not very gently, then all was quiet.

Well I’ll be darned if I just let him take my entire team and do...whatever it is. She stood up tall and turned to face the step down out into the hall.

“Hey, whaddya think you’re doing?” demanded Twitch.

“What am I doing? What do you think?! I’m going to do...something. Didn’t you see what those stallions did? Don’t you think that could happen to us?”

“I think you’re overreacting a bit Spits’. We’re not foalnapping the princess, and not trying to kill anypony. They’ll probably just slap on us the fetlock, tell us not to tell anypony, and let us go.”

“Yeah!” said Tameless. “They might do something worse if you go out there.”

“Oh, somepony told me it’s ok because ‘we can’t get in any more trouble now can we?’ Now shush.”

Looking back toward the door, Spitfire took a few experimental steps, trying to see how quietly she could walk on the concrete. It took a few tries, but she quickly found that by rolling her hoofs as they landed and setting them down gently, she made next to no noise when she was going slowly. Confident in her ability to go unnoticed by unfriendly ears, Spitfire snuck into the hall.

“Cmon Spit’s, just get back here!” hissed Twitch. She was motioning rapidly and desperately for Spitfire to turn around. For Spitfire’s part, she put a hoof up to her lips to say 'hush' and went down the hall in the direction Shadow had went. It was about twenty lengths long, and dimly lit by a few light-spells embedded in the ceiling. There were three plain wooden doors at the end, one to the left, one right, and one directly opposite from her.

Cautiously, Spitfire crept over to the end of the hall, toward the faint voices she could hear. As she got close, she could tell that whoever was talking sounded very angry, and was in the room to the left. Creeping up to it, she could see the name plaque read ‘Dive Skyward’. Above the name was a crescent moon, which Spitfire recognized as the Royal Guard insignia for a captain. Unable to hear exactly what was being said, she pressed her ear up to the door.

“What do you mean you left your weapon?! You left it inside a building set with enough flare charges to go sky-high! Whatever possessed you to do something so stupid?” Skyward was shouting, and clearly enraged.

“There was no time, and I couldn’t carry both it and the shotgun!” Shadow was talking very fast, and in a much higher pitch than usual.

“Only because you failed to plan ahead! You weren’t thinking of what you’d do once you had to grab the shotgun. Do you have any idea how much that rifle cost?”

“N-no, sir.”

“It took Ray two weeks and fifteen thousand bits to finish your one-of-a-kind sniper rifle, that you left to be turned to ash!” Skyward sighed, and the lowered his voice a little. Spitfire pressed her ear a little harder into the door.

“Look, son,”

SON?!

“I know you did what you had to do, and...that’s the right thing to do as a leader. At the end of the day, what really matters is that you got Princess Twilight out of there alive and relatively unharmed, and you brought all your boys back alive. I’ll bother Princess Luna for the bits to replace your rifle. She probably won’t mind too much, not if I tell her it was the cost to make the rescue work. However, you’re the one that gets to apologize to Ray for breaking his baby, and until he builds you a new one, you’re just going to have to use a standard issue Guard sniper rifle.”

“Thanks, Dad. About weapons, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my sidearm. Do you think you could get me something a little faster?” Shadow had apparently relaxed too.

“What, is something wrong with your pistol?”

“No, but it almost ran out of ammo before I took out my target. I almost got hosed.”

“How about you ask Ray to modify one of the standard issue short-rifles? The regular model is a tad inaccurate and heavy. And I want you to find Mama after this, and get her to fix your leg up for you. I don’t want you going on mission hurt, because you may very well be leading the next one. It’s about all I can do to sit up and talk to you right now.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Of course,” scoffed Skyward. “Getting hit in the head is never good, but I’ll recover in a few days. Thank Celestia for healing magic, or we’d all have gone death’s way a long time ago.” Skywards voice began to lose the friendliness it had slipped into in favor or sternness. “Anyways, now there is the issue of the security breach. I’m not happy about this. We have never had a problem like this in the team’s history. You did get all of them and bring them here with you, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well then I want you to watch over them and make sure they don’t do anything stupid while Mama takes care of of them. We’ll just go with the forced oath option, ‘cause if we deleted their memories, no end of trouble would come from it. We’ve drawn enough attention as it is. Once Mama has finished the binding spells, take them on back. And now we get to the difficult part. Can you keep your current cover job? If not, I want you to try to find a less conspicuous one, something to match your degree, so this crap doesn’t happen again. And it won’t happen again. If you can’t keep it together, I’ll dig through the mess of paperwork on my desk upstairs and find something horribly boring for your day-work. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir. I was going to try to apply to be a singer again, hopefully this time it will be a little better market then when I graduated."

Dive chuckled.

"That's perfect. I can't think of a job that has more anonymity than a musician. I'm still disappointed you that you didn't study something a little more productive. Hmm....I can probably employ you in something unimportant in the castle until you find...'work'. And should it somehow workout well, don't get too big. I don't want to cover your rump again. Anything else I need to know before you go?"

"No, sir."

“Good. Take this, and go clean up your mess.”

Spitfire leaned away from the door just in time for it to swing open. Fear coursed through her as she saw Shadow carrying a pistol. He looked at her with wide eyes for a second, then closed the door. When he turned back around, she could see he was sweating, and trembling just a little. His expression brightened a bit, and he opened his mouth to speak, paused, and then frowned.

“Come on.”

He sounded exasperated, scared, and confused, but didn’t seem very angry at her for being there. Together they walked back in silence. Spitfire’s mind was buzzing with questions, but one look over at Shadow quashed all of them. One hoof clenched tightly around his weapon as they walked, a look of grim determination on his face, and sweat still glistening on his coat. She now knew why he had been so secretive, why he was so fit, and why he treated every practice like a military workout. She wished she didn’t.

When they got back to the room they’d arrived in, he reached out with his empty foreleg to offer her help up the step. She reached out to take his hoof. For not the first time she noticed the faint dull-red tint on it. Images flashed before her eyes of a knife in those hooves, and blood running down them. She shuddered as she realized why they were red, and drew her leg back to take the step on her own. Shadow stood in the doorway cradling his pistol, his expression blank again.

They all waited in silence for a few minutes until the familiar clacking of hooves on concrete sounded in the hall. Shadow stepped aside to make way for Mama Wolf, who was carrying a dusty old book and a scroll in her magical grip.

“Alright,” she spoke in an amiable tone. “I have to get a spellbound promise from each of you to not talk about all that, and then you can go right on home. Don’t you worry now, it won’t hurt a bit. So who is first?” She graced them with a warm smile.

None of her team was looking particularly brave, so Spitfire steeled herself and spoke up.

“I will.”

“Alright young mare, just a moment.” The book whipped open, and Mama Wolf started reading off of it in old Draconic.

“Iuramentum ego hic laoreet, ut qui sponte consentiat, ad conditiones oblatas, suscipitur condicionibus dedit, et erit eis non periurabis, nisi solvit, ipse sui sanguinis.”

As she spoke, a gray glow wrapped its way around Spitfire’s neck and mouth. She couldn’t feel it, but it still made her nervous. When Mama Wolf had finished chanting, she held up the scroll and adjusted her glasses.

“Ok dear, I need you to repeat after me. I...” she waved her foreleg for Spitfire to speak.

“I, Spitfire...” From there on she echoed Mama Wolf word for world.

“...hereby promise from now onward...to never reveal any information...or knowledge of...by my actions or inaction...the existence or actions of Timberwolf Team...its support members and affiliates...and any other relevant information..until released from this obligation...by those parties aforementioned.”

When Spitfire had finished speaking those words, Mama Wolf looked back over at her at her book and finished the incantation.

“Sicut dictum est, ita fiat.” The words rang unnaturally loud in the air, and the magical bonds around Spitfire faded into nothing with a tingly feeling.

“There! All done. That wasn’t so bad was it? Ok next!”

One by on the ‘bolts took the oath, all relieved that Spitfire was unharmed by it. Even Tameless was willing, apparently convinced that he wasn’t going to suffer his fears. All the while, Shadow stood sentry in the doorway, staring. Spitfire made sure to look at anything other than him. Eventually, all the oaths had been given, and Mama Wolf shut her book.

“Alright everypony, thank you for being so helpful!” She addressed the group almost as a friendly teacher would talk to her class. “That’s a magic unbreakable oath you just took, so you can’t do anything wrong now, and there won’t be any punishment for you. Just step back inside the circle and I’ll take you all back so you can get back to your busy afternoon.”

Everypony was quick to oblige, including Shadow, who stuffed the pistol into his coach’s vest and took his place beside Mama Wolf. She brought the runes on the floor to life, and in a flash they were all standing back in the open air of the practice field. Mama Wolf was standing in the back of the chariot she’d left behind, and everypony else was left on the clouds. They stood up and waited, watching Shadow and Mama Wolf tentatively.

“You’re all free to go you know?” Shadow spoke just like he was telling them the practice session was over.

The gathered pegasi didn’t need to be told twice, and scattered off into the blue. Before Spitfire could leave too, Shadow bounded over to her.

“Wait!”

“What?” she asked tensely.

“Can we talk for a bit?” The desperation in his voice was all too apparent.

“I guess.”

By silent consent they both began to walk away from the chariot. After they were out of earshot, Shadow began to talk quickly and nervously.

“Look, I thought I was about to die, and I didn’t want to leave it unsaid...so...” he asked as he looked at her fearfully and expectantly.

Spitfire had known this was coming, and didn’t even need to think about the answer. She went to give him a piece of her mind.

“Well, you are a k-k-k-k-!” Her throat locked up and as much as she tried, the words wouldn’t come out. Shadow was so eager for a reply that he didn’t realize what was happening until Spitfire stopped and glared at him.

“Uh...I release you from your oath until I leave.”

“You’re a horrible pony! I saw you kill like you loved it! Blood dripping from your teeth and face and your hooves! I couldn’t ever love a monster like you! Hell, how can a monster like you even claim to love?!” The rant felt...right, telling Shadow exactly how she felt. She watched as his worried but hopeful smile shrunk away. He looked sad for the most fleeting of moments, but she blinked, and his visage had iced over. When he spoke again, none of the emotion was there, just a cold calm.

“Very well. Can I expect that you want me to continue working for you?”

“I’ll think about it, and give you a call with my decision.” Her favorite way to say no.

“Thank you for your consideration.”

Shadow trotted off toward the chariot, and Spitfire took to the air. She quickly left the field and sped home, going fast enough to drive out any other thoughts. When she got there, she sent out a text to the team telling them that there wouldn’t be practice the next day, then seized a bottle of cinnamon whiskey and forgoing a shot glass, sat down to erase all thoughts of her day.

Author's Note

Sorry for all the spacing issues. First time importing from a google doc, and boy it is messy. Gonna have to fix this sometime when it isn't 2 AM.

If you go to copy that Latin into google translate, it's gonna be pretty messed up. Even after some personal correction with my Latin dictionary, it still comes up really messed up. Use your imagination =)

For their weapons, you can picture whatever works, but if you want a visual reference; Shadow uses something very much like an M300 and an M1911. Chaff lent Shadow something very much like an M1014, and Savage handed over his M72. Those with rifles on Timberwolf team had something very much like an M4, and the griffons something very much like...well go back and find the pun.

I re-named Dive McSkyward to Dive Skyward after Dizziestbeef pointed out it may have sounded far too much like a certain other fictional character. I owe him my thanks again for pointing out a lot of my stupid, and his personal knowledge on the internal mechanics of firearms.

This is halfway for this story, and I hope it hasn't been too crazy yet. If you're still here with me, thank you.