• Published 10th Jan 2014
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F-Zero: MLPX - Brony_Fife



The origin story of Captain Falcon. Show me your hooves!

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Act I, Chapter 3: "Setbacks Are Temporary."

Act I, Chapter 3
~Setbacks Are Temporary~


The trip back to Mute City was deathly silent.

Neither Rainbow Dash nor Scootaloo were in any mood to speak, now that their bounty money was suddenly sniped—snatched away from their eager hooves and clenching jaws at the last possible second. It felt like some divinely-ordained prank, a rash of bad luck that was merely meant to be.

The fact they were a month or so behind on their debts and already struggling to maintain the Flyer was certainly a related issue.

Mute City herself looked plastic as always. The big city—and her bogus independence—was always better in concept than execution, stuffed to the gills in overindulgence and escapism, cleverly coming up short in satisfaction. Perhaps it’s the foul mood Rainbow Dash was in, but Mute City offended her today simply by existing. As the Falcon Flyer entered the city limits, Rainbow Dash could already hear everypony pointing and laughing. The entirety of Mute City turned her face away into her hoof and hid a snort of laughter in mock politeness.

The buildings stood tall and powerful, their various shapes and colors boasting needlessly their modern designs. The early noon sun caressed each building, bringing out all the pink, purple, blue, green, and red they had to offer. Honestly, they looked more like great big bottles of shampoo or laundry detergent you’d find on supermarket shelves. Rainbow Dash could imagine a giant pressing his finger against each building, reading the labels, comparing prices, then plucking one or two up out of their foundations and placing them in a shopping cart.

And now, as they drifted in via the main gate, came the most suffocating aspect of Mute City: the traffic. Rainbow Dash loved the feeling of driving—seated within the Blue Falcon, his handsome dark blue chassis returning the sun’s warm kisses, watching the world scream by them. But driving in Mute City had no point. There was no point to driving when you were this deep in Mute City: the cramped highways and clogged airways choked the independence and beauty right out of the Blue Falcon. It was even worse for machines like the Flyer: ships had their own airspace above the highways, but the traffic was always this series of clogs that last for hours.

Their destination came into view after one or two of those hours. “Right,” Rainbow Dash said, breaking the silence. “You know the drill?” It was a concerted effort to not sound angry. She hated sounding angry in front of Scootaloo—Rainbow Dash was always afraid the little filly would think she was the source of her frustration.

“Park the Flyer in the Guild’s garage, sign in with the garage manager, then meet you in the café.” Scootaloo's voice was flat and damp, like a dishrag unceremoniously plopped into a sink.

Rainbow Dash reached over and hugged Scootaloo. “Hey, don’t worry, Scoots,” she said, rubbing her back. “Setbacks are temporary—victories last forever. We’ll pull through.” She gave her the biggest winning smile she could muster.

Scootaloo returned it with a withered grin and nodded.


Setbacks are temporary.

That was another of Rainbow Dash’s life philosophies, and she held onto it vehemently and unapologetically: setbacks were just speed bumps on the road to something better. Sometimes, though, the setbacks were bigger than just a minor wobble. Some setbacks cost Rainbow Dash years of rebuilding or redirection. A glance at where her wings used to be proved that much to her as she silently walked across the Guild’s garage.

Losing the Leeroy Brown bounty was almost that kind of setback. Not as big as some of the setbacks that plagued the whimsically filthy and violent life of Rainbow Dash, but certainly a difficult one to ignore. Losing Leeroy meant having to settle for a smaller bounty, one that probably wouldn’t offer as many bits as they needed. Losing Leeroy meant having to compromise the grocery money (again) to pay for the Flyer’s upkeep—and Rainbow Dash was unsure how much longer her stomach could tolerate ramen noodles.

As she walked from the parking garage into the main lobby, Rainbow Dash sighed. She left behind the world of distant whirring, dim lights, cigarette smoke, noisy garage workers, and maintenance droids. Before her now was a totally different environment, one made up of lemony fresh smells, bustling bodies, phones ringing off the hook, fake plants, idle chatter, and a Journey song mewling over the speakers. The Bounty Hunters Guild.

The Guild was in the business of connecting capable bounty hunters to viable work. Wanna dole out some payback? Missing child? Spouse cheating on you? Crook on the run? Bounty hunters took it all on. All the world’s filth was theirs to clean—all the vengeance theirs to exact. Of course, bounty hunters were free to refuse jobs that leaned too far black for their tastes. Rainbow Dash herself had turned down jobs that to her felt way too insidious.

It was a great way for law enforcement to curb vigilantism, simply by employing vigilantes, setting rules of conduct and a sense of honor and dignity for them to follow. Ponies who could have become vicious killers no better than the monsters they fought instead became hired guns for ponies who couldn’t fight for themselves and for a government that would have been overrun with crime otherwise. It was by no means a perfect system, but for what it was worth, it worked.

Rainbow Dash began squeezing herself by the mobs of ponies flooding the lobby, trying to make her way to the reception desk. As she did, she heard one voice clamoring above the rest, screaming bloody murder. Quite a few heads turned to greet the noise with looks of concern and disgust. Rainbow Dash released a slow, apathetic sigh.

Lightning Dust was causing trouble yet again: yelling and shoving at security guards as they attempted to herd her out. Her electric colors—light-green pelt with slick orange mane—characterized her as something ferocious and unwilling to be contained, her sleek, lemon-yellow body armor and blood-red boots lending her a somehow even more feral appearance. She bellowed something incomprehensible at the security officers as one lifted a beamstick threateningly. Her gold eyes bulged as she growled at him, her wings fluttering threateningly.

Her wings.

Rainbow Dash sighed. Like her, Lightning Dust had crossed the wrong Griffons on the wrong day. But unlike her, Lightning Dust had opted toward replacing the wings she'd lost with state-of-the-art cybernetics: white metal sheets that thrummed and whistled as she moved them, their anti-grav and their pistons and their circuitry all working together as a single, thinking, acting, breathing monstrous pair of not-wings.

If it was one thing Rainbow Dash never wanted, it was cybernetics. She was tempted when she'd lost her wings, but the idea of machines threatening to overrule your common sense at any moment felt too high a price to pay. Lightning Dust on the other hoof was the type who lived by high stakes—no price was too high. And as her actions became more and more reckless, putting too many innocent ponies in danger, the cybernetics counteracting against the chemicals in her brain, it seemed to Rainbow Dash (And apparently, to the Guild) that Lightning Dust's bad decisions had finally come to collect.

Rainbow Dash returned to her original mission of reaching the reception desk and continued to wait in line. Lightning Dust’s shouts became louder, demanding to speak to the Head Guildmistress. Finally, the head of security—this big, tough unicorn guy—stepped in and told Lightning Dust, in decidedly indelicate terms, that she'd been separated from the Guild that morning.

And when Lightning Dust slugged him, all security officers present (as well as a number of watching bystanders) descended on her like a wave, crashing into her and knocking her down. One onlooker pointed and laughed at Lightning Dust—and immediately stopped the moment she broke away from security and lunged at him, her roar coupled with the shriek of her metal wings. She had to be dragged away kicking and screaming. All told, it was a hideous thing to witness.

Rainbow Dash shook her head as she returned her attention to the line. She spotted a free receptionist. This one was a pegasus mare she’d seen only a few times before. Usually running about, serving everypony coffee. Rainbow Dash figured she must be an intern or something, though to be honest, she might be better off as a fashion model: her pink mane, long tail, and deep teal eyes could ensnare the attention of any stallion, to say nothing of her butter-yellow coat and stunningly pretty face.

She greeted Rainbow Dash with a voice you could pour over pancakes. “Hello. How can I help you?”

Rainbow Dash propped up a foreleg on the counter and leaned forward. “Hey there…” She flicked her magenta eyes to the mare’s nametag, then back up. “Fluttershy.” (She hoped she hadn’t sounded too snooty there—it was hard not to imagine that name on a rather kinky hooker.) “Name’s Rainbow Dash. I was wondering if I could have a word with the Big Boss herself for a mo’.”

Fluttershy (if that was honestly her real name) nodded. “Um, I hate to be like this, but, u-um, Miss Spitfire specifically asked to not be bothered until later this afternoon.” She smiled insecurely.

Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow, earning an intimidated squeak from the receptionist. “How late we talkin’? It’s actually pretty urgent.”

“U-Urgent?”

“Urgent!” said Rainbow Dash, her voice lowering to a demanding whisper. “Like, right now, urgent!

Fluttershy gasped and held a hoof to her mouth. “I-I, uh… I’m, that is…”

“What are you just standing there for?” Rainbow Dash continued. “If I don’t talk to Spitfire in time, my daughter will go hungry tonight!”

At the mention of a child going hungry, Fluttershy looked like she just watched somepony die. After a second of dumbfounded silence, she reached over the side of her desk and pulled out a phone. She dialed hastily, growled as she set the receiver down, picked it back up, then dialed again—correctly, this time. She looked to Rainbow Dash with a reassuring smile as the phone purred in her ear.

“Um, yes, sorry to bother you, Miss Spitfire, but... there’s somepony here who needs to see you right away—um, i-if you don’t mind, that is. She says it’s very urgent.”

A grumbling came out of the other end. Fluttershy pressed the phone to her chest and looked at Rainbow Dash. “What’s your name again?”

“Rainbow Dash.” She nodded triumphantly at how awesome her own name sounded.

“It’s a Miss Rainbow Dash, Miss Spitfire.” A pause. Somepony grumbled on the other end of the phone. “Um, yes,” she said, “She did tell me her daughter was going to starve… ” Silence. Her eyes widened as her boss sighed, followed by more grumbling. Fluttershy’s cheeks flushed red. “…Y-Yes, I did fall for it.” Fluttershy shot Rainbow Dash a burning frown, and was returned with a mischievous smile.

More grumbling. “Yes, Ma’am, right away.” Fluttershy hung up the phone. She turned to Rainbow Dash, her lips pressed into a tight scowl. The way her face puckered around that scowl was adorable. “Despite her previous demand, Miss Spitfire will see you in her office,” she said in forced politeness. “Please follow me.”

Fluttershy flapped her wings and in a single bound glided over her reception desk and onto the lobby floor. Rainbow Dash watched Fluttershy’s wings work, helplessly jealous. The things one takes for granted until they’re gone. She hid her frown and followed the receptionist down the hall.

If the garage was a raucous doctor’s office for vehicles and the lobby a Mecca for clients and bounty hunters, then the offices of the Guild were a quiet prison for the blue-collar set. Rows of cubicles were full of ponies at work tapping away at keyboards with bored, vacant stares, earning their bits one program build at a time. The prison metaphor seemed rather apt. Rainbow Dash dreaded the idea of anypony having to work in an environment as sterile as this—she much preferred the open road and the bar fights.

Up an elevator. Past more cubicles. Through a relaxing interior garden where the cubicle workers apparently took their breaks. Up a flight of stairs. Down another hall.

Finally, they reached a door with the name SPITFIRE emblazoned on it, the title of BOUNTY HUNTER GUILD HEADMISTRESS just beneath it. Fluttershy turned to look at Rainbow Dash. “OK, here we are.”

Next to the door was a panel meant for a pony to place his hoof. Fluttershy did just that. Once the door confirmed who she was, it opened with a hiss. Demurely, Fluttershy poked her head in. “I hate to bother you, Miss Spitfire, but… Rainbow Dash is here to see you.”

“Right, yeah, send her in,” came a gruff, feminine voice.

Fluttershy stepped away and cocked her head to the now-open door. Rainbow Dash nodded to Fluttershy as thanks and entered the office, the door closing behind her with a whoosh.

Behind an ornate blue desk in an equally ornate blue office, looking out a large window at the shampoo-bottle buildings of Mute City, was the government official that ran this circus: Spitfire. Her color scheme made her a pony-shaped fireball, with a mean glare that could chill even Lightning Dust into obedient silence. Her military-white suit and dull-lavender boots added to her "all-business" attitude.

She turned around. One look at Rainbow Dash and Spitfire’s lips formed a disapproving frown. “You screwed up the Leeroy Brown bounty, didn’t you?”

Rainbow Dash made her best apologetic puppy face. “I-I can explain, Miss Spitfire.”

Spitfire facehoofed. “The bounty on his head was ginormous, you know,” she sighed. “And I don’t ever use a word that stupid to describe anything. Leeroy Brown made some very wealthy enemies, and they were more than willing to pay through the muzzle for a little vengeance.”

“He didn’t get away,” Rainbow Dash explained. “He was killed. Shot through the head by one of the Griffon bandit gangs that take up too much space in the Red Canyon. Scootaloo stored my report in the Flyer’s—”

Spitfire silenced Rainbow Dash with a shake of her head. “Look, I’m sure how Leeroy met an untimely end he deserved is a pretty interesting story, but our clients wanted him alive. Heck, I wanted a piece of that asshole myself.” Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to add something else but was cut off.

“Anyway, that’s beside the point. My point is, no Leeroy means no money. The 10K bits they gave us upfront? Yeah, they’re gonna want that back for wasting their time. This doesn't look good, Dash. You’re killin’ me here. I wanna help you, but these setbacks…”

“Setbacks are temporary, though,” Rainbow Dash said with a hopeful smile. The length of Spitfire’s intimidating scowl was enough to rip it right off her face.

“Maybe one or two setbacks,” Spitfire said sternly. “And maybe if they were small enough. But for the past few assignments, you’ve been lucky to get anything done in a satisfactory manner. You’ve gotten sloppy.”

Rainbow Dash looked away sheepishly. “…Is this about Captain Firebeard?”

The nickname coaxed a small smile out of Spitfire. It was almost motherly, and lasted for all of one second. “More than Firebeard, I’m afraid. You brought him back in one piece... mostly... but the other two guys before him?” She shook her head. “The amount we had to pay for damages…”

Rainbow Dash couldn’t defend any of that, and didn’t bother to. If it was one thing you learned about Spitfire right away, it was that excuses were her least favorite thing. She would swat them away like whiny mosquitoes. Instead, Rainbow Dash took a deep breath and prepared herself for what Spitfire would decide to do.

“Now I’m not about to fire you,” Spitfire said as she got out from behind her desk and circled Rainbow Dash. “You’re a wonderful bounty hunter—in fact, one of our best—and I’m happy to recommend you to nearly every client that walks through my door.” She stopped and looked Rainbow Dash in the eye.

“But Leeroy Brown was the jackpot, and with one shot to the head, it got ripped out from under our hooves. This isn’t just a small stumble on the climb, Dash, this is a forty-foot drop that might tarnish your reputation, as well as the Guild’s.”

Silence. Rainbow Dash took that as her cue to respond. “Well, uh… is there a... smaller assignment I can take on for now? I know your superiors might not want to see me for some time after fudging such a huge bounty.”

Spitfire nodded. “That would be the ideal solution. But.” She walked back to her desk and brought up a holo-screen. The dull, dark blue backdrop of the screen pushed the bright-blue letters to Rainbow Dash’s eyes—the most important two words being “Princess Cadenza.” The third most important word was a number six digits long.

Rainbow Dash’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She looked to Spitfire, who reclined in her chair, folded her hooves together, and smiled. “A little while before you got back, we got a request from a member of the Royal Family, asking specifically for you.”

Rainbow Dash read and re-read the statement before her. Cadenza Manor, as soon as possible, meet in private for further negotiations. Rainbow Dash looked from the message to Spitfire. “This. This is top-secret stuff, right?”

“It’s the first time a Royal has ever made a request to the Guild. Nopony knows about it yet.” Spitfire leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You take this job, and I’ll just tell anyone who asks I sent you on a lengthy wild goose chase to straighten you out a little—which isn’t too far from the truth anyway.” She held out a hoof. “Deal?”

Rainbow Dash looked to the lavender-booted hoof hovering over the desk. She smiled and shook it.

“Deal.”


The moment she saw Cadenza Manor, Rainbow Dash let out a low whistle.

Gorgeous. It contrasted the plastic stuffiness of Mute City so perfectly, Rainbow Dash had half a mind to ask if she could rent apartment space here. It was a beautifully-ornate old-fashioned mansion with elegant woodwork and tapestry. Stories and rows of windows looked out at almost an acre of front yard, green grass manicured and teased into a perfect shape. Statues of valiant heroes and beautiful maidens dotted this yard, placed without crowding each other.

“This is the place, Scoots,” Rainbow Dash said as she looked into the Blue Falcon’s backseat. She paused when she saw Scootaloo slumped over, then smiled warmly when she heard her snoring. She sighed through her nose, removed her jacket, and set it on Scootaloo as a makeshift blanket. The red t-shirt she wore underneath didn’t do as good a job at hiding her knobs as the jacket did, but it’d have to do.

The pearl-white front gate was protected by a pair of Royal Guards, their faces expressionless and grim. Their modern, black armor—red rimmed black helmets and dark visors and gold badges—contradicted the look of Cadenza's mansion so completely, it was surreal. As Rainbow Dash exited the Blue Falcon, she waved to them. One stepped forward.

“Please state your business,” he said in a rock-hard tone.

Rainbow Dash hoofed him the data disk containing Cadenza’s request. “I’m here for the job your employer posted at the Bounty Hunters Guild,” she said in a hushed tone.

The Royal Guard put the data disk into his fetlock-mounted reader device. Up popped a holo-screen that displayed the request. He nodded, first to her then to his guard buddy. The second Royal Guard opened the gate and motioned Rainbow Dash through. “Do you require a valet to park your vehicle?” asked the first Royal Guard as he returned the data disk.

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “Nopony touches the Blue Falcon but me and Scoots. Just tell me where the garage is.”

She was shot a look of disapproval, but he gave her directions anyway. Once parked, she was led through the interior of the manor by an aging donkey with a refined voice. Her eyes occasionally wandered. Rainbow Dash couldn’t believe anything this breath-taking even existed this deep in Mute City. If the rest of Mute City were made of something synthetic, then Cadenza Manor was made of something real.

Cadenza’s throne room was long and trimmed with colors that accented her own color scheme well. The pink, gold, and sapphire came together like a three-piece band, playing a smooth jazz tune that the rest of the room could feel. There, on a dais speaking to her servants, was Princess Cadenza herself.

Rainbow Dash had never felt jealous of another mare’s good looks until she met Cadenza. She’d always prided herself on her fit figure, but Cadenza worked the whole slim angle to a new dimension. The shape of her eyes and face were exotic, suggesting a mixed ancestry. Her pearl-pink pelt was hugged by a long mane and tail the colors of a radiant sunset. Her horn and wings combined declared to the world her alicorn status, making her seem even more beautiful.

Rainbow Dash knelt before the Princess, who smiled in amusement. “There’s no need for that,” said Cadenza calmly, waving a hoof adorned with gold. “Please stand, Miss Dash.” She obeyed.

“I am pleased you could make it to my mansion,” Cadenza said as she gracefully descended the dais. She stopped before Rainbow Dash. “And you arrived not a moment too soon. The mission I am going to give you is of utmost importance. It cannot be mentioned to anypony outside this room.”

She looked at her servants, who took that as their cue to depart. After they left, Cadenza continued. “I’ll get right to the point, Miss Dash. I want you to enter the F-Zero Grand Prix.”


“And then I was all, WHAAAT.”

Scootaloo sipped at her coffee as the Blue Falcon struggled against Mute City traffic. “So, you took the job?” she asked.

Rainbow Dash looked from the road, to Scootaloo, then back to the road. “Heck, yeah! You bet your blessed teeeaaa…”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow.

“…leaves.”

“Nice save,” Scootaloo said sarcastically as she took another draw of her coffee. She put her coffee in a cup holder and sat back up from her slouching position. “So, she wants you to race? Why can't she just do that herself?”

"I'm guessing politics. If everypony saw the Princess taking part in the F-Zero races, imagine the scandals." Rainbow Dash deepened her voice, as if imitating a news anchor. "This just in! Princesses shirking their royal duties and the madponies who love them! Film at eleven!"

Scootaloo nodded. "OK, I get that. Why does she want you to race, then?"

"She wants me to place first."

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow for the second time. “Oh, really?”

Yeah, really!”

“No way,” Scootaloo said, shaking her head. “Really? How are you supposed to place first in a race you have absolutely no experience in?”

Silence. Rainbow Dash stopped at what must have been the umpteenth stoplight. She glared intensely up at the red eye that had dared her to stop. “I’ll learn.”

Scootaloo put her face in her hooves. “Good, sweet Celestia on rye!” she exclaimed. “You’re just going to leave all this up to luck?!

The light turned green, and the Blue Falcon turned into the next lane with the rest of the traffic. “Maybe you didn’t notice how the Blue Falcon and I have become, like, one being,” she said over her shoulder. “We got the raw talent. We'll ace this race, easy.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Acing a race. On your first try. Yeah. Sure.”

Rainbow Dash sneered as they weaved through traffic. “Well, in case certain parties in the back seat forgot, the Captain happens to be taking care of some snot-nosed kid. We fail the mission, I lose my job, and we'll have no place to go.”

Scootaloo returned the sneer. “Would this snot-nosed kid you're condescending to happen to be the same snot-nosed kid who built the machine you’re going to use in the F-Zero races?”

Silence. Rainbow Dash frowned and sighed. “I’m sorry Scoots, I-I didn’t mean to sound angry.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes as she took another draw of coffee.

Rainbow Dash continued. “It’s just… this job is big. Not only is the Princess paying us a huge amount of money—” she turned her head to look at Scoots—“and I mean, like, a criminal amount of money—” she returned her gaze to traffic—“but if I can make first, we get a good two mil on top of that.”

She felt the scalding hot coffee on the back of her neck before she heard Scootaloo spit it out in shock. “TWO MILLION BITS?!” she cried.

“YES! TWO MILLION BITS!” Rainbow Dash cried as she felt the coffee eat its way through her neck. “TWO MILLION BITS AND YOUR COFFEE BURRRRRRRRNNNNS!


First thing to do was get information. And there was only one informant Rainbow Dash trusted, above all the others.

Prince Blueblood.

The two of them had gone back years. After Rainbow Dash had saved Prince Blueblood’s life, he funded the Falcon Flyer’s creation and even helped Scootaloo design its navigation system, as well as teach her the basics of impromptu surgery. So yeah—all told, he was a pretty big deal.

It was rare for Rainbow Dash to ask Prince Blueblood for favors. (She learned to stop doing asking him for money when he started calling them “loans”.) But when it came to gathering information for an important assignment, Prince Blueblood would always be there to help.

“F-Zero?!” he said in disgust. His blue eyes narrowed as his handsome, angel-white face somehow blanched even more. “You want me to help you get in?! Are you mad?!

“Well, I figure you must know how,” Rainbow Dash said as they stood in his study. Her eyes wandered about as she spoke, comparing Blueblood’s house to Cadenza’s. Despite the rows of shelves filled with Blueblood’s extensive book collection, the Prince favored the modern more than his cousin did. If it weren’t for the old books, this place would look just as cookie-cutter as the rest of Mute City.

Scootaloo poked her tiny hoof across the spines of several books as Rainbow Dash haggled with a reluctant Blueblood. Ever since literature went paperless some decades back, everypony'd had to read on holoscreens. So to Scootaloo, these books were truly something to behold. Every time Rainbow Dash would pay a visit to Blueblood, Scootaloo would take it as an opportunity to lose herself in one of his books. She pulled one out and opened it up, greeted by intricately-written words and beautifully-drawn pictures. A smile found its way to Scootaloo’s lips as she sat in a nearby chair and began to read a story, this one about a beautiful princess who fell under a terrible curse that caused her to fall asleep until a handsome prince could wake her.

“I absolutely refuse,” Prince Blueblood said, running a comb through his blonde mane using his telekinesis. “Those savage races are the worst thing to hit the entertainment world since Maregret Cho! At least she wasn’t responsible for life-threatening accidents!”

Rainbow Dash smirked. “Blues, you and I both know that if I can’t get into the races, that means I can’t get paid. Your cousin's paying me to race.”

Blueblood lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “My... My cousin?” His blue eyes flicked about with hurried thought. “Wh-Which one?”

“Cadenza. Lives on the other side of town?”

A look of half-realization, half-dread came over him. “...She really bought the services of a bounty hunter?”

Rainbow Dash produced the same data disk from before and showed him. “She wants me to race, and even more, she needs me to place first. Now obviously, she knows about my awesome driving skills, but I’m gonna need more than just talent for this.”

Blueblood read over the message again and again, in more disbelief than he was before. Finally, he groaned. “I don’t know what my cousin is thinking, honestly.” He looked up at Rainbow Dash. “To begin with, Dashie, royalty’s not allowed to sponsor an F-Zero pilot.”

“Which is why she hired me as a bounty hunter,” Rainbow Dash nodded, adding a wink.

Blueblood cocked an eyebrow. “Hm. A politician taking advantage of a loophole in the law,” he quipped. “How unusual.”

Rainbow Dash draped a foreleg over Blueblood. “Come on, Blues!” she chirped. “We're friends here. Friends help each other out!”

"Friends also prevent each other from making dangerous mistakes," Blueblood retorted.

Rainbow Dash's voice dropped to a whisper as her smile evaporated. "Blues. I'm serious. My career's on thin ice right now. If I can't succeed in this mission, then..." She flicked her eyes to Scootaloo, implying what she didn't dare to say.

Some heavy silence tiptoed by before Blueblood sighed in defeat. “Give me a data disk, please,” he said. Rainbow Dash hoofed him a spare.

He popped open a holo-screen in the nearby wall. “Holo-screen, on,” he commanded. It blinked to life with a series of beeps. He opened up some sort of program and with his telekinesis, traced along the screen, writing a message. Rainbow Dash tried to read it over his shoulder, only for Blueblood to shoot her a glare. She looked away, to Scootaloo, who seemed totally engrossed in that book.

Blueblood ejected the disk. He hoofed it back to Rainbow Dash without turning to face her. Still looking at his computer screen, Blueblood opened up a database of profile pictures. Rainbow Dash didn't recognize any of them.

He stopped at a picture of a lavender unicorn mare with a rather "pleasant evening" color scheme. Rainbow Dash noticed Blueblood’s focus seemed to waver when he looked at that unicorn. It was only a second, but it was there.

“The unicorn in the picture is named Twilight Sparkle,” he explained. “You can find her at the Blackout Club nearly every Friday or Saturday evening. Mention my name to her, and show her my message. She’s the only F-Zero pilot I know who can help you. Outside that? You’re on your own, Dashie.” He patted her shoulder and nodded. “I don’t know why you would want to risk your life on those beastly racetracks, or why cousin Cadenza would ever want this… but good luck anyway.”

Rainbow Dash smiled as she pocketed the data disk. “Anypony ever tell you you’re a peach, Blues?”

“Only when they want something out of me.” Blueblood smirked as he opened the door for her, implying he wanted her to leave. Rainbow Dash shrugged, and called for Scootaloo, telling her that it was time to go. She let the little filly leave the room first before turning to Blueblood and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“I meant it,” she smiled. Blueblood blushed and looked away shyly. Rainbow Dash had to fight a giggle—imagine the Prince actually blushing like he was a virgin or something! Either way, it was adorable. She rolled her eyes and left the study, her presence traded for the whoosh of the closing door, followed by silence.

Blueblood looked to the still-open holo-screen. Twilight Sparkle’s deep and intelligent purple eyes seemed to analyze the entire room. The Prince let out a lonely sigh he didn’t realize he was even holding. “Holo-screen, off,” he commanded. With that command, Twilight Sparkle blinked out of existence.


Clubs were never hard to find in Mute City. There must have been one in every block. Want for escapism and debauchery were an itch that could only ever be scratched by the thumping music, gyrating bodies, designer drugs, and alcoholic bliss clubs offered. Maybe one was a strip club, maybe the next was tailored for filly-foolers or colt-cuddlers, but in the end, they all aimed squarely at that exact primal want with every swing, batting for the fences.

Rainbow Dash frequented clubs rather often—most of the time on business, since clubs attracted their fair share of wanted scum—and came to the conclusion that nearly all of them offered the same junk. Clubs were the fast food Mute City natives stuffed into their hungry pastimes, made bland and unexciting because of their absurdly widespread availability.

The Blackout Club was unapologetically generic for a club. Dark lighting save for neon lights that colored everything blue and pink? Check. Beer you could find at a convenience store for one-third the price? Check. Drunken conversations drowned in grating rap music? Check, check, check.

But like the dingy bar in that Red Canyon shantytown, Rainbow Dash wasn’t here for any of the main attractions. She sauntered over to the bar and took a stool, leaning her back against the bar itself. The bartender asked her what she wanted. She ordered the cheapest whiskey they had.

Her eyes floated across the club. Several ponies, Zebras, and Donkeys were tearing it up on the dance floor, most merely moving in ways that vaguely passed for dancing in this dim lighting. Like puppets being jerked around on invisible strings. She heard somepony fill a stool next to her. An aside glance revealed a stallion who was too old to be her type.

And as expected, he started hitting on her—and as expected his whiskey-stained breath would splash her face—and as expected she’d tell him to scat. As the creepy old guy got up and left in a childish huff, Rainbow Dash noticed a mare at the other end of the bar.

She was a lavender unicorn with a rather "pleasant evening" color scheme. Her gold jacket was bright enough to reflect the pink light that shone down on it, her dark blue boots subtly adding to her eye-catching color theory. What stood out most was the red scarf she wore about her neck: it seemed the most iconic thing about her wardrobe. It didn’t take a detective to tell Rainbow Dash this was the F-Zero pilot she was looking for.

Twilight Sparkle sipped from her shot glass as a stallion wearing a leather hat took a stool next to her. “Hey, sweet thing,” he said. “What’s a cutie like you doing alone?”

She set down the glass. “Drowning my worries,” she said. “Same as anypony else. Buy a girl a drink?”

The stallion waved the bartender. “Hey! A drink for the lady.”

The bartender shook his head, putting his toupee slightly out of place. “Jay Jay, you ain’t paid your tab as is, and my boss is gonna yell at me because she thinks I’m hoofin’ out free drinks. No way.”

Twilight looked aside at Jay Jay as he shrunk in his seat. “Beat it, punk,” she said. “Not rich, not interested.”

With that, Jay Jay made his exit, hoping nopony saw him get shot down. As Rainbow Dash prepared to go talk to Twilight, a caramel-colored earth pony in an ocean blue jacket made his move. The one thing he had going for him, Rainbow Dash noticed, was his smile. “Hey there,” he said in a boyish voice, “Lookin' for some company?”

She looked at him with a disinterested glare. She held it for what seemed like a minute and a half, slowly drinking from her shot glass, never breaking eye contact with him. He clicked his tongue awkwardly as he struggled for something to say, only for Twilight to suddenly jump at him. He squealed as he fell backwards, bumping into another guy behind him.

Twilight laughed. “Sorry, kid. I don’t go for cowards,” she said as she finished her drink.

As Rainbow Dash prepared herself to go talk to Twilight, a third batter came up to plate: this one a Zebra with impressive dreadlocks. He flashed her a charming smile and set down some bits. He flagged the bartender. “Yo, a drink for the lady!”

As the bartender filled one up, Twilight used her unicorn telekinesis to pick up a bit from the counter. With a snap, it was spun into the air. She caught it in the cup of her hoof and slammed it down on the bar. She looked the newcomer in the eye and asked, “Heads or tails?”

The Zebra looked at her strangely. “Heads or tails for what?”

She scoffed, as if he were too stupid to figure out what she was doing. Then she smiled mischievously. “Call it, heads or tails. You win, I’ll take you home tonight.”

He brightened. “Tails,” he said with a grin.

Twilight lifted her hoof. Heads. She shook her head as the bartender gave her the drink. “If you’re not lucky, I don’t even wanna know you,” she said brusquely.

Rainbow Dash lifted an eyebrow as the Zebra, confused and dejected, left the bar to walk through the dance floor, likely back to a pack of friends or something. She shook her head in morbid amusement. Blueblood certainly knew quite a few eccentric ponies—that time he introduced her to that one kooky photographer, now this mare…

She walked over to Twilight. “This seat saved?” she asked, pointing to an empty stool.

Twilight shook her head, eyeing Rainbow Dash with suspicion. Rainbow Dash smirked as she took the seat, ready to ace this test. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out some bits. “Barkeep!” she said. “Fanciest booze you got!”

The price was heavy—and Rainbow Dash learned that night that just because something is expensive, that doesn’t mean it tastes good. Thankfully, Cadenza was nice enough to pay the initial fee upfront, so it wasn’t as if Rainbow Dash would have to resort to ramen noodles for those drinks.

After a reluctant chug, Rainbow Dash gave one of the bits in her hoof a flip. “Heads,” she said offhoof. Twilight raised an eyebrow as the coin landed heads up. She looked to Rainbow Dash, intensely scanning her with those intelligent, deep purple eyes.

Rainbow Dash never dropped her smirk. “By the way, I’m a bounty hunter,” she said sternly through gritted teeth. “So no funny business. I’d hate to have to ruin your pretty face.”

A pause. Twilight sniffed a laugh as she took a sip from her third drink that night. “You’re adorable,” she said. “But I don’t swing that way.”

The smirk on Rainbow Dash’s face grew into a full-fledged smile. She chuckled as she rubbed her mane. “It’s the hair, right?” she said. “Everypony takes one look at the hair and thinks I’m a lesbian.”

“Get that often?”

Rainbow Dash took a swig of her acidic drink. “All the time, sister.” She put her glass down and swallowed reluctantly, the drink going down like exotically-flavored urine. She pulled out Blueblood’s data disk and hoofed it to Twilight.

“Prince Blueblood told me you’re a pretty good F-Zero p—”

“You know Prince Blueblood?”

Rainbow Dash’s voice trailed off in surprise at Twilight’s rudeness. She recomposed herself. “Yeah, he and I go way back.”

Twilight set the data disk into her pocket reader and read Blueblood's message. Her intelligent, piercing purple eyes blazed through the words on the holo-screen. As they did so, Rainbow Dash observed her face: Twilight went from mild irritation, to disarmed frown, to… saddened.

She killed the holo-screen and put away her disk-reader, sighed through her nose and looked at Rainbow Dash for a good, long time. Studying her. At first, Rainbow Dash was certain Twilight would try jumping her the way she jumped the third guy earlier. Instead, Twilight clicked her tongue. “All right,” she said quietly with a nod. “I’ll do it. I'll train you. Follow me.”

The two mares got up and walked out of the club. Jay Jay looked to them from his seat and sneered. “Figgers they’d be lesbians,” he mumbled as he took another swig of his beer.


Rainbow Dash never made it secret her dislike for Mute City’s design. The five-star Spark of Life Resort—owned and operated by Twilight’s prodigiously wealthy family—was the epitome of every last robotic, fake, false, phony, synthetic, cookie-cutter, bland, lackluster, fresh-off-the-assembly-line aspect of Mute City. To say that Rainbow Dash hated everything about it was putting it mildly, but she kept her opinions to herself. On the bright side, at least a few of the bellboys were fun to look at.

While the interior did nothing to impress Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo—who’d before this never set hoof in a “ritzy” hotel since the Falcon Flyer already had beds—was wholeheartedly amazed. Her purple eyes seemed to attach themselves to as many sights as she could: the fake plants, the fake paintings, the fake ponies with fake smiles. Rainbow Dash occasionally looked to Scootaloo as they walked down the hotel’s marble-white halls, grinning inwardly as she watched her staring at everything in childish wonder.

Twilight led both of them towards the elevators, nodding to staff members as she passed them by. Rainbow Dash noticed several of them seemed intimidated by Twilight’s presence. Might be that Twilight was their boss’ daughter, but if Twilight’s cold behavior at the club earlier was any indication…

The elevator doors shut behind the trio, ending their view of the high-class hotel. Rainbow Dash was half-expecting some kind of corny elevator music, but they instead descended with silence. Scootaloo looked at the elevator’s wall and, noticing it was a reflective surface, started making silly faces at it.

“So,” Twilight said finally—and so suddenly it made Rainbow Dash jump—“Your mission was to not only enter the F-Zero races, but to come in first place…”

Rainbow Dash nodded. “That’s the plan.”

A smile slowly pulled at Twilight’s lips. It wasn’t a reassuring smile. It was closer to the kind of smile you’d see on a bully before he beat you up. She nodded, again sighing through her nose. “You’re treating this rather leisurely. You honestly think you’re going to make first place your first time?”

“The Princess wouldn’t have hired me if she didn’t think so.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. Couldn’t exactly argue there. The logic of an alicorn was a tricky thing to navigate. “Well, if you’re gonna become one of us, you’re gonna need to know the basic rules of F-Zero.”

Rainbow Dash smiled. “No cutting in line, no pushing, no shoving…”

Twilight groaned. This was who the Princess put her trust in? This was who Prince Blueblood decided to help? This was what she’d have to put up with? She shook her head, deciding it was time to beat the stupid out of Rainbow Dash—and the only weapon to use on stupid was a lecture.

“Shut your piehole,” Twilight hissed. Scootaloo flinched at the sudden change in Twilight’s tone. “F-Zero is serious business. It’s one of the most lucrative sports of ponykind, employs thousands of ponies, and keeps several businesses in the black.” She poked Rainbow Dash’s chest with a blue-gloved hoof. “It’s also extremely brutal—and failure to understand or respect F-Zero and its rules will end up with you in a hospital bed…if you’re lucky.”

The two ponies locked eyes as Twilight continued, her tone unrelenting and grim. “We’ll go over most of the other rules later, but the most important thing to understand about F-Zero is that it is a warrior culture. The moment we go onto those racetracks, we are not friends. We are competitors. Gladiators fighting one another for the right to achieve our dreams.

“Every pilot has their own goals that the prize money can help them achieve. Many of them have goals far more noble than yours or mine. You must be ready to crush their goals in order to achieve your own. When we’re on those racetracks, I am going to crush both you and everything you believe in.” Twilight paused, letting the last sentence linger like a threat. She took a deep breath as their floor approached, not breaking eye contact, teeth clenched.

“If you are not willing to do the same thing not just to me, but to everypony else on those tracks, then you have no business in F-Zero. None whatsoever.” The elevator came to a stop with a bump that nearly caused Scootaloo to fall over.

Rainbow Dash nodded. “I’ll do it,” she said. The gravity in her voice almost startled Twilight. It was odd to hear such seriousness out of a pony this laid-back and carefree, especially so suddenly. She glanced at the elevator doors when she heard the chime.

The elevator opened, revealing a large and splendorous garage before them. It was large enough to be Twilight’s own underground mansion—and likely was—with its own test track and racks upon racks of tools and spare parts. There were even smaller buildings that likely acted as additional rooms, perhaps for kitchens or bedrooms.

But what got the most attention was what was parked on a dais, under a spotlight: a beautiful, golden F-Zero machine with an attractive vulpine shape. A name was etched onto the dais’ side: The Golden Fox.

Silently, Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo took their first steps into the world of F-Zero.

Twilight Sparkle waved a hoof out to her garage. “Then welcome to your new addiction.”