I've always wondered when I'll die. When will it happen? How? Will I be torn apart by the same violence that's torn my life asunder? Will I die in a bed, old and frail surrounded by loved ones? The question of mortality is one that I'm drawn to often. The vibrations of the repulsor engines shuddered the cramped compartment I had spent the past few hours in.
'This power will make you and it will destroy you,' Celestia had said. She was long dead, as was her sister and everypony I had ever known. At least, they were dead for the time being. The castle they had built was gravel beneath the smog covered earth as a city of industry floated above in the lower atmosphere. It's turquoise habitat dome kept the ponies alive in what should have been freezing cold and thin air. It was a perfect day with a gorgeous sky overhead, the smog forced out by the air-refiners. The temperature was average, but would be cold had there been a breeze. I pulled my nose from the chilled glass porthole. Glass towers raced by as the slip-runner cut through the air like a bolt from a thunderhead. The city of "dreams", Heavens Hold was a floating metropolis that floated above most of Equestria's landmass. Patches of the ground so far below had become inhabitable from all but the hardiest of ponies, but a dedicated few still struggled on, refusing to partake in the gentle genocide taking place in the skies. Genocide might not be the correct word for the situation, but it was the most apt. It wasn't a genocide of lives, but one of freedoms, independence, and wills.
The entire city no longer had wants or needs. All that was ever needed was provided. The Colab saw fit to that. Corporations of Liability and Benefit, Colab for short, were the ruling caste of the age. The workers had happy little lives, living out their status quo, the medium level employees had much the same, but with a few extra luxuries. The high level members, CEO's, large share-holder's, VIP's, they ran the city-state. The were trade houses from the days of old who had become bloated with wealth, greed, power, and corruption. They kept the common rabble complacent. When and if somepony decided they weren't satisfied the Colab's "police" would make them disappear. The private security forces were bonded to the highest paying houses and were enforcers and thugs, vicing out any "seditious thoughts". The general Colab officers patrolled the streets. The elite guarded the buildings and activities that the Colab didn't want becoming common knowledge.
'You are to be a guardian of the future, much like your rival is a guardian of the now. You have all of her talents, yet none of her restraint. That will serve you well there where it has not in this time. There will be others like you, unneeded now, but required later along the line. You will find each other, and you will set my children right.' I had been taken to Celestia by Spitfire immediately following my debacle at the academy. I was left alone in the room with the princess while she poked and prodded my mind. 'I'm afraid sometimes the needs of many are more important than the needs of few. This will be mandatory. I will bestow on you something powerful that will shape you as much as you shape it. When you return to us, if you return to us, you will not be the Lightning Dust you are now.'
My visor slammed down into place, snapping me out of my memories. The cerulean mage-glass blinked into life, outlining the others in my pod with a dim green. Blades were checked for sharpness, horn-amplifiers tuned for the final time. The click-clack of projectile weapons was easily heard over the dull roar of the repulsor. I look to my own kit; the magical ranged weapon strapped to my front left leg was linked to my visor and a red square of dots followed the barrel. The blades embedded into my wings slide out quickly and quietly; I had kept them in pristine condition. All the ponies in the hold, myself included, wore the same magic-hardened flexible weave armor meant to slide off blades and magic bolts. The weapons fit their owners, my fellow pegasi kitted out the same as I, the unicorns with their horn-amps, the earth ponies with hydraulic breach hammers and a smaller version of the bolt thrower strapped to our legs on their preferred hoof. To put it as simply as possible, we are a rebel strike force from the past(usually) who had been implanted with biological augmentations to make us better soldiers. Like Celestia had said, this was mandatory. You were here till the job was done or you were dead. Each of us had our own Celestia-given powers, but those were private even in our close-knit if rocky brotherhood.
The brotherhood was a mishmash of broken ponies with nothing to lose, desperate ponies with everything to lose, and psychopaths. Feel free to file me under whichever category you wish; we all weren't exactly sociable and generally stuck to our own devices. While each battle-group had it's over-arching orders and objectives, when the blood spilled and blade and magic met flesh each was their own island in the tides of conflict. Help was neither asked for nor given. You set out knowing no one would watch your back, and the only way you would see the next sunrise was to complete your mission how you saw fit and get to the predetermined extraction at the predetermined time. No exceptions.
The siren sounded and the door lights flashed on. In a few short minutes hell was about to be unleashed on a chemical testing plant that had just received a new shipment of ponies to test on. Guard presence was high and casualties were "expected".That was what had surprised me in the beginning. It seems our 'Great and Kind' ruler had little love for us. Really though, what can I expect? We were the trouble makers, fire starters, and thorns in the side of her perfect golden-age.