• Published 16th Jan 2013
  • 3,106 Views, 101 Comments

Liberate the Sun - Seether00



Withholding their missing father's location, Discord ensnares a pair of siblings in a scheme to free the Sun from Princess Celestia's grasp. Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash are sent in hot pursuit with orders to stop them at all costs.

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Chapter 4: Canterlot Convergence

Chapter 4: Canterlot Convergence

Rainbow Dash crashed into a wall of noise as she barrelled out of the train coach. A cacophony of boarding announcements, shrill whistles, and the general hustle and bustle expected of Equestria’s busiest railway station overwhelmed her senses; the place was a far cry from Ponyville’s quiet single platform.

Ears flattened against the din, “Gangway!” she called ahead, elated to finally be out of the cramped box. With little room to maneuver, her beating wings almost knocked over a nearby conductor.

Canterlot station, being the central hub of Equestria’s rail network, was consequently its most crowded. As the saying went, spend one day watching its platforms, and an attentive viewer was virtually guaranteed to see at least one resident from every Equestrian city and town pass through the station’s overarching halls.

Ponies from as far as the Crystal Empire and Mustangia to as close as Appleoosa mixed freely with the upper class Canterlot locals in a melange of fashions and accents neither seen nor heard elsewhere. The colorful throng milled about the busy platforms as stewards dressed in the distinctive red and gold uniforms of the Equestrian Royal Railway Service efficiently herded passengers and unloaded cargo.

Twilight Sparkle stepped onto the crowded platform at a more civilized pace. “Rainbow!” she yelled, frustrated by the brash flyer’s rough exit. “Will you slow down, please?” She grabbed Dash’s tail in her magic and hung on for dear life. “We still need to wait for our bags.”

“No, we don’t,” Rainbow snorted. She gestured to the pair of saddle bags belonging to Twlight and herself, then crossed her forelegs. She testily nodded towards an alabaster unicorn. “She does.”

The mare she nodded towards was currently supervising a well-dressed porter. The poor stallion struggled to secure the tower of suitcases onto a cart.

“It’s bad enough somepony just had to worm their way into our trip, pushing us back a day,” Rainbow continued. “Then, on top of it, we missed the early train ‘cause the same somepony took forever packing everything ‘cept the kitchen sink, for what’s supposed to be a two day trip at most!”

Well!” Rarity huffed. “I would hardly call wanting to join two dear friends on outing to our fair capital…” She scrunched up her face in disgust, turning up her nose. “Ehh, worming, as you put it, Rainbow Dash.” Rarity sniffed haughtily. She bridled at allowing such an uncouth word to sully her delicate lips. “And can I help it if it takes time to select the perfect ensemble?”

Indeed, the elegant fashionista looked smashing in her white and blue sun dress, complemented nicely by a lovely, over-sized yellow sun hat—an outfit befitting a proper lady such as herself.

“Some of us actually care how we present ourselves, darling,” she added, putting on a chic pair of horned rimmed designer sunglasses.

“Now, Rarity,” Twilight carefully interceded before Rainbow started another argument. She had quite enough on the train ride over. Next time she intended to spring for a separate berth… or at least a bottle of sleeping pills. “You know you’re always welcome to come along,” she assuaged. “I just worry rummaging through the Royal Archives won’t be your cup of tea.”

“Yeah, best be careful or our frilly princess might get a little dust on her dainty hooves,” Dash snickered.

“Rainbow!” Twilight scolded.

Rarity attempted to placate her fellow unicorn. Celestia knows, the poor thing must be tired of Dash’s insensate complaining. “Now now, Twilight, that’s quite all right. As it so happens, the boutique is running a mite low on a few odds and ends. I was due to travel here anyway. Combining our trips seemed the most efficient course. You do like efficiency, don’t you, darling?”

Twilight Sparkle rubbed her chin thoughtfully for a second. She did like efficiency, and more passengers on a single train certainly fit the definition.

“So what if I now happen to be staying at the palace?” Rarity could practically hear Rainbow rolling her eyes; she was doing it so hard. “And if I happen to bump into Fancy Pants, and he just so happens to invite moi to an exclusive soirée…” Twilight joined Dash in the eye rolling competition. Twilight, having much more practice since moving to Ponyville, won by a large margin. “Well, all the bette—Oh do stop making that horrid gagging gesture, Rainbow Dash!” she sputtered in a most unladylike manner before lighting up her horn. “Here, make yourself useful, dear.”

The pantomiming pegasus squawked as she was sent to her knees by Rarity’s tower of trunks suddenly settling onto her back. It tilted precariously as she struggled to get up. “Heavy…” she groaned. “What did you pack? Tom?”

“We agreed never to speak of that!” Rarity snapped before realizing she’d raised her voice in public. Clearing her throat, she regained her composure before continuing. “To answer your question, darling, it’s only a few cases of gems, a small selection of outfits, and a few tools from the shop. One never knows when the muse will strike.

“In any case, I’m sure a little heavy lifting isn’t too much for Ponyville’s self-proclaimed Iron Pony,” Rarity tittered with a dismissive wave of a well-polished hoof. She made sure every last trunk and tote bag was securely fastened onto her makeshift pack mule before primly following Twilight towards the exits. “Come along, darlings. Canterlot awaits.”


The night rendered Facsimile a black shadow as she sprinted along the roof of the midnight train to Canterlot. She moved from one car to another, each bound as surefooted as the last, her stride unimpeded by the natural sway of the cars as they clacked along the rail. The passengers inside heard nothing. Her hoofsteps were trained to be unnaturally silent.

Rule sixteen of infiltration: an unheard changeling is an undetected changeling.

Reaching the tenth car in line, she clambered down the side like a spider—the bristles in her hooves held her perpendicular to the ground as it sped past.

Brushing aside a blue strand of fringe, she glanced at the window’s metal identification plate.

This was her stop.

Idly humming the theme from the spy thriller, Mission Improbable, Facsimile projected a needle thin emerald light and cut a circle of glass cleanly from the window pane, securing the round in magic lest the sound of broken glass give her away. A perforated black hoof reached inside and unfastened the latch. In one smooth motion she vaulted inside, landing in a crouch. Again lighting her horn, a simple repair spell restored the cut piece of glass back to its original place.

Rule ten of infiltration: leave an area as if you’ve never been there.

Scanning the unlit room wasn’t a problem for the darksight equipped changeling.

“Umm…” A hoof tapped her shoulder.

Acting on instinct, Facsimile immediately reared up and spun on her assailant. Using the spin’s momentum, she smacked the side of his head with a foreleg, sending him tumbling to the floor with a yelp. Not giving him a moment to recover, she nimbly pounced on his prone body, locking his limbs in place. The figure struggled, but couldn’t escape her expert grapple. He gasped as she raised a hoof to strike.

A flash of light, and Facsimile suddenly found her grasp empty. That was odd. Unicorn teleportation results in a pop, not a flash. Before she could considered the oddity of the teleportation—unicorn teleportation always resulted in a pop not a flash.

Snap.

She hissed and blinked as her nightvision was baffled by the sudden bright glare of fluorescent lights turning on.

Rubbing spots out of her eyes, Facsimile stared out with a bugged eyed fascination. What was supposed to be a normal sleeper car had been replaced by a something ripped from the screen of a Con Mane movie. The décor screamed of supervillany. Every cliché was represented: oversized maps of Equestria covered in pushpins, machines of indeterminate purpose with hundreds of blinking lights, and the floor itself was constructed of transparent glass. Facsimile could see schools of piranha swimming underneath. All that’s missing is…

In a puff of smoke, ponies clad in black bodysuits appeared.

Well, there we go. Facsimile spread her legs in a combat stance, sizing up her opponents. She was outnumbered three to one, and each pony outweighed her by half. Her lips curled back into a predatory smile as she ran her tongue along pointed teeth. This might even be a challenge.

The first ninja rushed forward in a flurry of hoofstrikes. Fax reared back and flowed around the stallion’s jabs and kicks.

Infiltrators weren’t the sturdiest changelings in the hive, lacking a thick shell, a direct hit from a pony could be crippling if not fatal. As such, infiltrator combat training centered around three basic tenets.

Deflect.

Facsimile blocked each heavy hit with her forelimbs, sending the force of the earth pony’s hooves along the outsides her armored forelegs and away from her body. Her counterattack was equally blocked, but it bought her time to strategize. Earth pony stallion. Weaknesses: eyes, throat, groin, magic.

Deceive.

Feinting left, she got within the larger pony’s defense and unleashed a combination of punches. She finished with a jump kick to the chest, sending him back a few feet.

Disable.

Hearing the distinctive hum of a unicorn powering up its horn at her back, Facsimile charged. Using a quick burst of her wings, she somersaulted over the earth pony’s head. Sailing over, she let loose a series of lightning fast jabs to the eyes and nose.

She was rewarded with a scream as he clutched his face. Landing behind, Facsimile bucked her injured opponent into his comrade’s bolt. The stallion jittered as the energy washed over him before collapsing.

Not giving the unicorn a chance to recharge, Facsimile buzzed straight for her. Unicorn mare. Weakness: eyes, throat, horn.

Her hoof struck horn with a satisfying snap, disrupting the spell being conjured. The unicorn appeared to be made of hardier stuff than the stallion, making nary a single grunt before spinning and kicking out her hooves. Fax used her smaller size to slide under the attack. A quick, stinging combination of punches to the mare’s underbelly took her out of the fight. Facsimile barely had time to roll out of the way of the falling body. With two down, and one to go, she rounded on her last target.

The feathered ninja and the changeling tensely circled each other. The glint of metal gave away the wing-blades attached to the pegasus’s flared wings.

Facsimile watched the swords dance in a hypnotic series of movements. The mare was clearly skilled with the weapons. Facsimile waited. She just needed an opening. Pegasus mare, armed with wing-blades. Weakness: eyes, throat, neutralize flight by breaking joints where the wing meets the body, attack nerve clusters for maximum effect.

Blades clattered to the floor as the hooded mare fell to the changeling’s stunbolt. Or just shoot her. Whatever works.

“Velcome to my lair, Miss Facsimile.”

A high-backed chair, behind a large oak desk, spun lazily around. Discord reclined, dressed in a white dinner jacket and with a monocle over each eye. Because if one monocle was evil, two was doubly evil! He tenderly stroked the stuffed white feline perched on his lap with a solid gold claw as he addressed the spy in his midst.

“So, you haf passed my little test, Fraulein,” Discord began, hamming it up with a ridiculous Germane accent. “Boarding a moving train and breaking in, while completely disguised. Most impressive. But tell me, vhy did you not simply buy a ticket?”

Facsimile took a seat opposite and kicked up her heels. “Meh.” She shrugged. Anyling could masquerade as a pony and board with nopony the wiser… but it was so expected, boring, lacking difficulty. No, sneaking aboard in her natural form was so much more thrilling. It really got the blood pumping. “I prefer the challenge,” she replied with complete nonchalance.

“A changeling with guts, glad to see Chryssy didn’t send us a dud—” Discord was interrupted by a blue uniformed henchpony furnishing a paper cup of Starbuckers coffee. Discord took one sip before spitting it out. “I specifically ordered a Grande Caramel Macchiato with skim. This is a Grande Caramel Macchiato with soy! You had one job! One job! What am I paying you for?” he chastised, throwing the scalding beverage back in the cowering pony’s face.

“B-but, sir. You’re not paying us anything.”

Discord pursed his lips. That was technically true. Interns weren’t paid, especially not illusionary ones. He causally pressed an ominous red button on his desk sending the unfortunate intern plummeting to a fishy demise. “Never correct your superiors, kid.”

“A bit harsh, no?” Facsimile turned away from the grisly feeding frenzy. Her gorge rose a bit as the water gained a rosy tint.

“Eh, sometimes you have to sacrifice one to keep the rest in line.” Discord dismissed her concerns with a wave. “Anyway, congratulations!” he exclaimed, reaching across to grab her hoof in a hearty handshake. “Welcome to team Disco-Flower!”

“Speaking of which, where’s the rest of my team?” She was the espionage specialist, so naturally she’d be in charge.

Discord snapped his fingers and changed the train’s interior back to normal. “Assuming command. I like that attitude.

“Mayflower is off to tinkering somewhere. For some reason I get the feeling she doesn’t like being around me. You love me, don’t you, Mister Tibbles?” Much like a live cat, the stuffed toy was indifferent to its owner’s affectionate nuzzles.

“As for her brother, I believe you just scared him off,” Discord continued as he flashed over and wrapped his arm around the changeling with a grin. “Good job by the way. I’ve been pestering him to try teleporting for a while, but for some reason he doesn’t trust me. I ask you, who wouldn’t trust this face?” His eyes spun while he pressed his snouted against her. Facsimile squirmed away like he was the plague.

She wasn’t too familiar with the mechanics of teleportation. An infiltrator's repertoire didn’t include the spell, unfortunately. “And he ended up where? Because I really need to brief both of them before we reach Canterlot.”

Discord‘s grin stretched even wider. “Oh… he’s hanging around somewhere.”


Wallflower clung to the roof like his life depended on it—because it did. He could almost imagine the Chaos magic chuckling at him. All he had asked was to be sent somewhere else on the train. Technically, the carriage’s rooftop was a part of the train. Wallflower would have laughed, but was too busy screaming and trying to keep his heart of bursting out of his chest.

With Luna as his witness, he vowed never to teleport again. Oh ponyfeathers!

The train hit a sharp curve and he started slipping in the opposite direction.

“Buck, buck, buck!” he cursed as he tumbled over the edge. Hmm… never predicted my life ending splattered on train tracks. Before Wallflower had a chance to contemplate why his internal monologue was so unfittingly calm in the face of imminent death—side effects of Chaos magic maybe—the wind was knocked out of him as he landed chest first on hard, black chitin.

“Need a lift?” quipped Facsimile, wings buzzing with exertion. The stallion outweighed her by half, making the flight back to the top a little wobbly. Wallflower’s stomach did a flip. Normally he’d concentrate on the strange dual male-female quality of his savior’s voice—definitely leaning on the younger mare side. Or on the smoothness of her lovely flanks, regardless of species, he was still a college stallion and appreciated a good looking filly.

He meant to say ‘thanks for saving my life. I owe you one’, but what came out was, “Blargh!” Odd. I don’t remember ordering corn during dinner. Orange against black clashed horribly.


Mayflower examined the vacuum tube held in her hooves before carefully putting it down. Suspended within was Celestia’s feather.

Letting out a breath, she stopped working and rubbed the tiredness out of her eyes. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, waiting for the shaking to subside. She was too keyed up to sleep, and nervous hooves lead to mistakes.

Removed from the cramped confines of her mobile workshop, the tools of her trade lay littered across a workbench. A ponyquin stood in the middle of the floor of the cargo car, suited up with the Icarus prototype.

At rest, its wings appeared facing rearward with turbines mounted on top and flaps facing forward. An array of strategically placed hinges along each wing allowed them to fold into thirds and rest against the model’s side.

Nervous energy drove the engineer’s movements as she juggled an assortment of wrenches and screwdrivers, making adjustments to the chest harness.

On the midnight train to Canterlot, paranoia made itself her constant companion. It robbed her of the ability to sleep, whispering misgivings into her ear. To Mayflower, Canterlot represented a gilded edifice masking the rot buried beneath its gaudy exterior.

In truth, May didn’t hate the mountainside metropolis. A short while ago, she’d been looking forward to visiting there. Chewing her bottom lip nervously and fidgeting with her goggles, she opened a window to gaze at the imposing gold and white castle looming in the distance. She who lurked there frightened her terribly.

Rumors spoke of Her Highness possessing a telescope enchanted to allow the user to observe every nook and cranny of the capital, even beyond the city limits. Would Princess Celestia be alerted as soon as they arrived at the station? Immortality lent patience; even now she could be lying in wait, ready to ensnare and devour the ignorant flies foolish enough to enter her web.

Nervous energy drove the engineer’s movements as she juggled an assortment of wrenches and screwdrivers, making adjustments to the chest harness. She paused once again. In her worrying, she’d overtightened a nut.

Focus was needed. Maybe some music would help.

Finding the proper accompaniment for her projects often lent Mayflower inspiration. In the case of Icarus, the inventor chose a favorite, a classic piece. She slipped the record out of a well worn sleeve. Glorious earth pony mares wearing gleaming, gold armor with winged helmets, and waving lightning covered spears while riding pegasi adorned the cover.

Valkyries.

The imagery invoked by the echoing music reinvigorated Mayflower as she pirouetted around the ponyquin. She almost saw herself as one of the warrior mares.

By the blare of trumpets, she again held the vacuum tube aloft. As the violins’ tempo increased, the sweet smell of ozone filled her nostrils as she precisely soldered the precious artifact into the reinforced compartment mounted at the crux of the shoulders.

Slowly, as the trumpets rose again, solar energy filled Icarus with life. The wings unfolded, rotating in their sockets. By the last cymbal crash, Icarus stood fully unfurled. Now slung underneath, the turbines spun up to speed in a harmonious hum. To Mayflower’s ears, the engines sang a more joyous chorus than the orchestra’s finale.

Mayflower knocked her goggles back up towards her sweat soaked mane before she clapped her front hooves together. After years of work, she possessed the last piece of the puzzle, a reliable power source, one akin to the sun itself, an irony given Scootaloo’s choice of name.

The decloaking of the library in the Everfree ruins meant the solar alicorn’s feather wasn’t as inert as she previously thought. Making the leap, Mayflower had asked the next logical question: could the power be harnessed?

It took a long time, Princess, but your feather finally worked. I should send Orange Zest a postcard.

Warmed by triumph, she stroked the wingflaps lovingly. The engine purred sweet nothings into her ear, promising heady heights and a cloud’s caress. “Together we’ll break the feathered ones’ lock on the yonder,” it promised. Mayflower reluctantly pulled away, she need to focus on her next task: uniting Alula and Icarus in a combat platform.

Selling the Royal Army on the crossbow would be simple, but convincing them of the flight pack’s worth was a challenge. She’d tried before. The army brass called flying unicorns and earth ponies, ‘too pie in the sky’, an unnecessary waste of resources when pegasi were available. Hidebound traditionalists, all of them.

Pie in the sky? She’d show them pie in the sky tomorrow. She’d planned her demonstration of Alula months ago. Incorporating Icarus, at the last minute, was tricky, but doable with a now fully functional prototype.

She smirked, imagining the shocked expressions as she flew over their fat heads, raining down a hail of arrows at the targets below. That military contract was good as signed.

Mayflower snorted, thinking back to her first presentation. Walking into the panel and being completely dismissed out of hoof. Did nopony understand the benefits of an expanded air force?

She was under no illusions about who’d blocked her funding last time. The pegasi faction protected their turf fiercely.

Before she could grouse further on the rampant tribalism holding sway in the upper echelons of the Equestrian military, Facsimile flew through the open window and landed heavily. Wallflower slid off of her back into a shaking ball, eyes spinning. May took one look at the disheveled sight of her brother and angrily rounded on the changeling, leveling Alula with a scowl.

“What did you do to him, changeling?” she growled. “Unless you want another puncture added to your body, the answer better be good.” Facsimile gaped at the threat, torn between huffing at the ingratitude—she just saved the mare’s loved one from a messy demise, after all—and identifying ten quick ways to disarm the ungrateful pony. May crinkled her nose with a sniff. “And are you covered in vomit?”

“May, hold on,” Wallflower gasped as he picked himself up. Things were escalating far too quickly. “She just saved my flank. I fell off the roof.”

May turned to stare at him. “The roof? Why were you on the roof?”

The distraction was all Facsimile needed to dart forward. A quick grab and twist, and May found herself staring down the business end of her own weapon. “He teleported and almost killed himself. Luckily, I was around to save his plot. Some thanks would be nice,” Facsimile said flatly.

Mayflower backed up a step, watching the now armed infiltrator warily. At such close range a miss was near impossible. “Wally. Explain. Since when can you teleport?”

“Discord,” he answered, rolling his eyes. Mayflower sighed and shook her head, accepting the single word explanation. Of course the troublesome spirit would be involved. She turned back to Facsimile who had taken the time to remove the ammo cartridge from the crossbow.

“And let me guess, you took him flying?” The soiled changeling nodded. “Well that explains the vomit. Mother stopped trying after two ruined saddles…” May paused to pinch the bridge of her nose. She really needed some sleep. “Look, you saved Wally’s life, changeling. So I owe an apology.” She extended a forehoof. “Let’s start over.”

Facsimile took moment then reciprocated. “Agent Facsimile, infiltrator 3rd class, but everyling calls me Fax.”

“Charmed, I’m sure. You’ve already met Wallflower.” Still slightly green, he returned a weak wave.

Introductions made, Facsimile quickly got down to business. “We’ve only a short time before we reach Canterlot so I want to over a few mission details.”

The reek of sick was filling up the hold. “Perhaps a shower is in order first.” Wallflower gagged, holding his nose.

“No time.” Green fire flashed over her body and Fax stood spotless. “If this mission’s to have any chance of success we need a proper plan of action and…” She stopped, peering at the strange contraption behind Mayflower. “Are those wings?”

Her face lit up with amazement. “Wow! They are!” Fax rushed over to the ponyquin, poking and prodding at all the little switches with interest. “Does it fly? Does it? Does it? Does it?” She hopped up and down with each repetition.

The siblings glanced at each other. May mouthed ‘Huh?’ Wally shook his head and shrugged. The sudden shift in demeanor from professional spy to filly in a candy store befuddled them both.

Sensing the ponies’ confused gaze, Fax stopped bouncing, flattening her ears in embarrassment. “Yeah… sorry. I’m kind of a flying nut.” She blushed, hiding behind her fringe. Wally noticed her cheeks turn a light green rather than red. It was pretty cute.

“But this is the coolest machine I’ve ever seen,” she gushed. “Reminds me of the Con Mane’s flight pack from You Only Live Thrice.” It truly was impressive. Part of the reason she ached to leave the hive was the chance to experience Equestrian innovation. Hivetech mostly consisted of scavenged, stolen or copied technologies. The only homegrown breakthroughs related to the HiveNet or love harvestation. “You’re totally like T.” Not being a Con Mane fan— Daring Doo more her vein—the reference to the fictional agent’s source of gadgets went over Mayflower’s head. “Do think you could make me a superspy laser-watch or maybe an explosive quill? Either’s cool.”

“Sorry, but I’m not that sort of inventor.” Mayflower intervened before the inquisitive changeling broke something. “But I can show you some of Icarus’s functions.” She pressed a button, causing the wings to retract, folding up into standby mode.

During the lecture, Fax easily picked upon the engineer’s loving pride towards her craft. A pity the love was directed at a machine and not something she could impersonate. The changeling was feeling a bit peckish. Not that there aren’t other options, she thought, catching Wallflower sneaking peeks at her backside.

Unusual.

Most ponies only went for their own kind, but a minority possessed a taste for the exotic. But If the grey stallion was one such pony… The tendril she sniffed wasn’t love, barely affection really, more of an interest—something to cultivate for later.

“I’ve never seen changeling wings before. What kind of lift can you get with those?” Mayflower asked with genuine interest, running a practiced eye over the nymph’s gossamer wings.

“Not really sure. We don’t measure wing power like ponies do. Flying isn’t really valued as a skill. Personally, I think we need something like the Wonderbolts. I even snuck into their headquarters once and stole a flight manual.”

“Why? Your wing structure is so different.” The casualness in which the spy mentioned breaking into one of Equestria’s premier military facilities didn’t surprise Mayflower very much. Even after the invasion, the nobility resisted ponying up taxes for increased security. “The physics wouldn’t match up.”

Facsimile chuckled at the inventor missing the obvious. “We‘re shapeshifters. We can sprout feathers whenever we want. Besides, rule number two of infiltration: know your enemy. Plus, the Wonderbolts are awesome!” If Equestria ever invaded, the Wonderbolts would lead the spearhead, everyling knew it.

Wait… If unicorns gained flight without magic… By the Queen’s fangs, it’d be like facing flying magic cannons!

Training kicked in. Facsimile carefully kept smiling and maintained her tone of voice as she oiled towards a nearby wretch. It looked suitably hefty. “So, Mayflower, you’re keeping Icarus for yourself or…?”

“Nope, presenting to the military tomorrow morning,” May answered, breaking Icarus down for storage and completely missing the flash of worry across the agent’s face. The ability to perform magic and fly simultaneously wasn’t an advantage the hive could afford to lose.

Well bother. What a pity. And they seemed like such nice ponies. A shame to kill them really. Hmm… bludgeon Mayflower first. Her brother shouldn’t present much of a challenge.

She hesitated. On the other hoof, outside of self-defense, infiltrators were forbidden to kill without authorization. Killing meant bodies, investigations, a higher chance of detection and mission failure.

Ugh… she cursed her superiors’ shortsightedness and moved away from the tool. The command directive from Vizer Facade made it clear this was her one chance to prove herself. Screw up and off to the mushroom farm. No way, am I being demoted to ditch digger on a technicality.

Putting aside the problem for later, Facsimile motioned for the siblings to gather round.

“Speaking of knowing your enemy, Hive Intelligence rates encountering one or more of the Element Bearers fairly high, given our goals, so they prepared a little information packet for us.”

The ponies blinked as bright green fire flowed over her body. She gained several inches in height and a sturdy orange body by the time it cleared.

“Howdy ya’ll,” ‘Applejack’ greeted with a tip of her Stetson. Wallflower let out a loud gaffaw as the transformed changeling strutted proudly. She was a dead ringer for Navel’s cousin. The increase in musculature was fascinating to observe as was the change in voice modulation to match the workhorse’s drawl.

“Now, Ah may be a simple farmer, but I’ll have yah know, I’ve tussled with the best of ‘em. Of mah friends I’m the strongest, so best avoid gettin’ bucked or ya’ll liable to be sent to the hospital for a spell. Ah reckon Ah can sniff out a liar at twenty paces, so Intel advises not chattin’ me up if ya’ll make mah acquaintance.”

A backflip into the air and a familiar rainbow maned pegasus hovered in place, sporting her trademark smirk. “Aww… yeah! Equestria’s fastest flyer reporting in,” ‘Rainbow Dash’ crowed, striking a heroic pose. The excessive wing flexing definitely fit Mayflower’s experience with the brash pegasus. “Not only am I super-fast, but I’m a black belt in Tail-kwon-do, and a Wonderbolt in training. All in all, making me one radical badflank of a pony. Don’t even try to out fly me in a fight. Ya gotta totally outsmart me.

“Based on reports smuggled out of my shrink’s office, I’ve got a deep seeded fear of failure hidden behind a way overblown ego.” Mayflower nodded. Based on her brief time with pegasus, the assessment rang true. Knock down the fortress of arrogance to goad Rainbow into doing something insanely risky made perfect sense. “One-on-one, cripple my wings as fast as possible.”

Only the colors changed on the next imponification. ‘Fluttershy’ peeked out from behind her pink mane, her voice barely a whisper. “Umm… I’m Fluttershy and I’m not too much of a threat, so don’t mind me. I’ll just hide behind my friends… if they don’t mind. Oh, and yes, don’t look me in the eyes. Intel says I have the ability to bend creatures to my will just by staring at them. So again, don’t look me the eye… if that’s okay with you.”

The elegant and refined Rarity was next. Facsimile definitely had the poise, style, and harpsichord tones of the posh unicorn down, in Mayflower’s estimation. “Greetings, I am Rarity, proprietress of Carousel Boutique where every garment is chic, unique and magnifique. While I am a lady of fine manners, I am not above hoofticuffs if necessary. I more than handled myself during the invasion, so don’t be fooled by my pretty face, darlings.”

Another flash and ‘Twilight Sparkle’ stood proud and ready to lecture. “As protégé to Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia herself,” she began in an officious tone, “I’m considered the highest value target on the list. My I.Q. and magic potential are both in the highest percentile in all of Equestria.” She preened proudly, rubbing a hoof against her chest. “I may suffer from borderline OCD, any disruptions of my plans leading to mental breakdown. In a fight, don’t try to attack me with magic. Intelligence recommends direct physical attacks to the horn from multiple vectors to halt casting.”

Unlike his sister, Wallflower paid little attention to the spy’s presentation. He didn’t have a reason to. Few ponies had a direct line to the princesses like the Element Bearers, and he had no intention of fighting them. If fate smiled and he ran into any of the mares, he was positive, after a calm explanation, an audience with Princess Celestia could be arranged.

“Surprise!” A burst of bubbly effervescence heralded the final entrance. Wallflower had a sudden hankering for strawberry soda for some reason. “Woweyzowey, what a trip!” Pinkie exclaimed then stopped midair, looking around, confused. “Hey, this isn’t Lyra’s closet and what am I doing on a train?” she asked while rubbing her chin. “I don’t remember buying a ticket…”

“Miss Pie, is that you?” Mayflower asked equally confused.

“Yepperooni.” She nodded vigorously. “Just your friendly neighborhood Pinkie Pie.”

She gasped so loudly almost all the oxygen was sucked out of the room. “I remember you. Mayflower, right? I never forget a face. Especially such a downy-mcfrowny. But it looks like your little brother’s all better now,” she sang, cavorting around a nonplussed Wallflower.

Experiencing citrus turned explosives and being suspended in gelatin had desensitized the historian to such oddities at this point. He wondered if that was a bad sign. “Well it’s certainly a surprise to meet you here, Miss Pie,” he said.

“Of course it’s a surprise,” she beamed back. “Everypony’s always telling me ‘Pinkie Pie, you’re the most surprising pony I’ve ever met.’ I even won Equestria’s Most Surprising Pony award three years running.

“Anyway, I’m super glad you guys are okay. Some the girls were really worried when you left.” She lost a bit of bounce on while saying that. “Especially Twilight. She went like totally study crazy again… But now you’re better!” she cried merrily, previous melancholy forgotten, stretching her forelimbs impossibly to pull both ponies into a crushing hug. “Oooh! You guys should totally come back to Ponyville and I’ll throw you a ‘Miraculous Recovery Party’.

“Oh yeah, here’s the cake I owe you,” said Pinkie, thrusting a chocolate torte towards a stunned Mayflower. The cake remained hair-free despite it coming from her poofy mane. “Rarity’s not around to stop me this time!” With nary a thought, it was casually tossed onto May’s workbench with surprising accuracy and not a sprinkle out of place. “Enjoy! Anyway, I need to get back. Everypony’s probably wondering where I disappeared to. Don’t forget to smile!” she signed off with a wave.

A hop, skip and jump later Pinkie disappeared in burst of green flame leaving behind a very dazed and confused Facsimile wearing slack jawed expression. She wobbled a bit trying to get her bearings. By The Silk, that was weird. Transformations, as a rule, didn’t usually cause blackouts… or a sudden craving for cake.

Cupcakes! So sweet and tasty!

Blinking again at the errant thought, Fax did a rushed review of the party pony’s dossier. It seemed normal… wait, there was an asterisk. Warning: changing into subject Pinkamina Diane Pie aka Pinkie Pie may result in random side effects. Extreme caution is advised.

“You alright?” Wallflower asked, tapping her shoulder and bringing her out of the stupor.

“I’m not sure. I think so, but one question: are you guys going to eat all that cake?” Love was great but chocolate, divine chocolate would do for now.


Rainbow Dash wasn’t what one would call a religious pony. Sure, her parents took her to the First Solar Church of Cloudsdale when she was a foal, but it wasn’t a habit she continued. Meeting the princesses in the flesh certainly hadn’t helped. Bringing down a goddess made a pony question divinity. She knew for a fact Applejack stopped reading the Celestial Gospel each night after the Nightmare Moon incident. Only five Pinkie Promises kept Granny Smith from finding out and tanning her granddaughter’s hide. Rainbow did find it odd that, given her upbringing at Celestia’s side, out of all her friends, Twilight was the most religious, able to recite entire homilies from memory.

Agnostic or not, Rainbow had reason to praise Celestia, Luna, Faust or any other deities listening, for she was saved.

Hallelujah! The grand exhibit on Saddles through History was canceled. She’d be doing backflips if the museum didn’t enforce a strict no flying indoors policy.

Her horned companion, on the other hoof, hid her face in her hooves in utter embarrassment at her friend’s victory dance. “Seriously, Rainbow, is the ‘The Butter Churn’ dance really necessary? Ponies are staring.”

Indeed ponies were staring at the pair. Some merely glanced and continued on their way; others, especially children, stopped and stared for a moment before being scolded for being rude and escorted away towards other exhibits by their parents.

“So? Let’em watch my smooth moves.” Rainbow started gyrating her hips, more to irritate Twilight than anything else. “You should watch and learn from me, Twi. Your dancing’s terrible.”

“My dancing’s not that bad,” Twilight defended. “I can boogie down. I’ll have you know my brother loves it when I get down with my bad self.”

“Number one: promise me you’ll never say ‘boogie down’ or ‘get down with my bad self’ ever again. And number two: not that bad? Twilight, the last time you ‘busted a move,’ ” she flatly said, breaking out winged air quotes. “Pinkie called an ambulance because she thought you were having a seizure.”

Twilight dismissed Rainbow’s obvious jealousy with a wave and held her head high. Her moves were great. Why else would Shining Armor invite his buddies to her birthday parties and insist she break it down, Twily style? Cadence even complimented her, saying ‘She’d never be able to get Twilight’s ‘dancing’ out of her head as long as she lived.’ Yeah, Twilight totally had the moves.

“Good thing Rarity got called away. She was looking forward to seeing some firsthoof examples of what was in fashion during the classical era,” she said.

As predicted, while taking lunch at a local café, the group had encountered Fancy Pants and his charming wife, Fleur de Lis. The famous power couple immediately took the opportunity to invite them all to the charity ball being held at their estate that very night. Ever the one for a high class soiree, Rarity accepted right away and took her leave; no doubt off to spend the rest of the day getting her makeup and hooves done in preparation.

The remaining mares declined. Politely in Twilight’s case, citing dinner with her parents, and a not so polite outright refusal by Rainbow Dash.

Luckily, Fancy Pants was the type to appreciate brash honesty even if delivered by such words as ‘no feathering way am I spending a night stuck indoors with the snobbiest snobs in Canterlot.’— that was the cleaned up version—and accepted her declination with his trademark aplomb. Ever the gentlecolt, he went so far as to help Rarity, who appeared to be going into a fit of hyperventilation, back into her seat and generously ordered another round of drinks for the table.

Even Dash later admitted, that for a Canterlot elite, Fancypants was pretty cool, and seriously rocked a monocle like nopony’s business.

Twilight remembered getting a bit red-faced herself. She wasn’t sure if Rainbow meant what she said or simply wanted to watch Rarity sputter out apologies as payback for being saddled with baggage cart duty earlier. By the sly grin plastered on Rainbow’s face when the mortified unicorn lunged across the table to wring the living daylights out her, it was probably a little of both.

“On second thought, maybe it’s best Rarity isn’t here.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow massaged her neck in agreement. “Girl’s got a strong grip when she’s angry.”

Twilight shook her head, deciding to write off the incident and move on. With the exhibit closed there was no reason to stay. “I may as well go back to the library and keep researching,” she sighed, starting towards the lobby. “You coming or do you want to explore Canterlot?”

“Nah, I’m gonna hang around here.” It wasn’t the response Twilight expected, if her arched eyebrow was an indicator. She’d never known the sporty flyer to show any interest in history before. “It’s nice and cool in here.” That explained it.

Summer in Canterlot had been especially severe this season. The heat and excessive humidity made everypony sticky and lethargic. Battling the muggy soup of airspace was so draining, the weather department sent out an advisory warning pegasi to walk as much as possible. The ground proved a poor escape, however, as the paved streets radiated the summer heat, turning the city into a sauna.

The Canterlot Library was air conditioned too, but Twilight was secretly glad her friend didn’t want to come along. Truth be told, much like Spike made a poor substitute Rainbow Dash, the fidgety pegasus made a poor replacement for her number one assistant. Impatient, prone to sighing at an irritatingly loud volume, and lacking any knowledge of the Dewey Decimal System, she wasn’t even helpful enough to warrant number three assistant status.

As part of her Princess assigned project on ‘The Knowledge of Friendship’ Twilight had surreptitiously run background checks on all her friends, the justification being knowing your friends’ pasts ensured stronger friendships in the future.

How Rainbow had coasted through Cloudsdale University to a hold a degree in Weather Management without learning basic research methodology Twilight couldn’t fathom. At least until she cracked open Rainbow’s academic records using royal privilege. She should have guessed Dash rode an athletic scholarship to ‘C’ average. Most surprising, Applejack graduated Manehatten University’s degree by mail program with a bachelor’s in agriculture and a four-point-oh grade point average.

After seeing the lavender unicorn off, and finally left to her own devices, Rainbow Dash started a circuit around the building. The Canterlot Museum of Equestrian History was built in a starburst pattern, all wings spreading radially from the central lobby.

Exhibits from all periods of Equestrian history were on display, divided up by subject matter. As she explored, she assigned each item a level of ‘awesomeness’ based on her patented Rainbow Dash scale of awesomeness.

At the bottom languished such things as double-shifts, paperwork, words over four syllables, and Gilda. In a word, ‘lame’. Next was ‘cool’. Most things in Dash’s life ended up in the cool bin: her friends, hayburgers, Scootaloo, the princesses, etc. Finally, the coveted ‘awesome’ slot was reserved for only the best and most radical of Rainbow’s loves: herself, of course; flying; napping; her pet tortoise, Tank; Daring Do; and last, but certainly not least, the Wonderbolts.

Princess Celestia’s old Sun armor complete with badflank halberd: cool.

Unicorn scouts ‘camping’ in the forest exhibit: lame, then upgraded to cool when some of the kids recognized her, and begged her to sign some autographs and pose for a few photographs. Nice to see the Rainbow Dash fan club expanding beyond Ponyville.

About an hour later, Rainbow found herself in large exhibit hall on the history of flight in Equestria. Displays ranging from the early experiments with wooden gliders to the development of hot air ballooning. A statue dedicated to the Germane earth pony inventor and father of the modern airship, Count Von Zeppelin dominated a corner.

Born with wings, Rainbow never really considered airship travel. It was still relatively new, expensive and restricted to specific routes. The fledgling industry was very unpopular with pegasi in government, many unhappy with having to share airspace with what they saw as upstart youngsters with no business in the sky.

The old pegasi were very influential. An entire half of the flight exhibit was dedicated to the winged tribe and its many and varied contributions to Equestria: the development of weather management, aerial combat, and most famously…

“The Wonderbolts!” Rainbow Dash squealed. The exhibit promised a showcase of items from the Wonderbolt’s founding to today. Attending the academy and being screamed at everyday still hadn’t taken the shine off seeing everything associated with the elite unit.

Unfortunately, a sign barred entry to the still under construction exhibit to any unauthorized personnel.

Authorized personnel ehh… Wonderbolts must be authorized… and I’m pretty much a Wonderbolt, so… “Ha! And Twilight says I don’t understand logic.”


Inside Canterlot library, Twilight Sparkle’s ears perked to attention. She felt the sudden, overwhelming urge to correct somepony.


Rationalization, and what the studious unicorn would undoubtedly lament as a butchering of the transitive property complete, Rainbow Dash took a quick glance around for any security guards before easing the door open.

“Wow...”

Wow indeed. Wall to wall glass cases packed with a treasure trove of Wonderbolt memorabilia filled the hall. There was no restraining Dash’s inner fangirl once unleashed.

“Oh my gosh!” Overwhelmed and with wings fluttering in excitement, she pinballed from one display case…

“Captain Wild Wing’s flight goggles!”

…to another…

“The cup from the first Wonderbolt Derby, won by Crimson Sky!”

…and another…

“Air Marshal Skyline’s dress uniform!”

…and another.

She paused at the final displayed and pressed her face against the glass, leaving a moist smear. “An original founding day flight suit,” she breathed in wonderment.

The vintage flight suit was constructed of brown leather and decorated with a bright yellow stripe down the middle— both colors and material a far cry from the spandex bodysuits used now. The leather came from a time when pegasi still drew on their warrior heritage and hunting animals was considered a rite of passage. A blessing Fluttershy wasn’t here, she’d be appalled.

Dash wanted an appropriate souvenir to cap off the trip and spent the next couple of minutes perusing the exhibit’s gift shop. Sure it was unmanned, but she’d leave the right amount of bits and note. A truly righteous pony doesn’t steal.

The gift shop sported a pleasing array of what the sign claimed was exclusive official Wonderbolt merchandise. She spotted quite a few thing she already had, and Rainbow prided herself on having one the most complete collections of any fan, taking up an entire room of her cloudhouse.

‘Official Wonderbolt approved wing weights for kids’ read the package. “Available in light, medium or heavy, huh?” Well, Scoots did drag around Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom all day, making her wing muscles fairly strong already. With a shrug Rainbow selected the heaviest weight. Besides, a heavier weight just meant faster results, and faster is always better. Rainbow, you’re a genius.


For the second time that day, Twilight’s ears sprung up accompanied by the uneasy feeling somepony nearby was committing a logical fallacy.


Persnickety purple unicorn absent to correct her flawed logic, Rainbow packed her purchase and headed for the exit.

“Rainbow Dash!”

Crap!

Back straight, chest out, shoulder squared, face front. Dash’s body reacted without needing to be told. It knew what the gruff voice commanded.

She felt eyes burning into the back of her skull, tempting her to turn around. Don’t do it, Dash. Just stare at the picture. The mosaic depicting a three pony wing against a sunset was quite spectacular—lots of vivid oranges and gold.

Much like the scowling visage entering her field of vision.

Spitfire’s sunglasses didn’t soften her glare. Rainbow kept staring ahead, careful to suppress even a twitch. When facing a bull, any sign of weakness meant being run over.

“Cadet Rainbow Dash, fancy meeting you here,” the captain said levelly as she circled her prey. Rainbow kept counting the tiles making up the picture—she was up to twenty—detecting the dangerous edge in her superior’s tone. “Tell me, Cadet. Do you consider Equestria’s education system the best in the world?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” A bead of sweat began its journey down her neck.

“And, being born and raised in Equestria, you matriculated through the fine halls of academia, graduated elementary, middle school, and high school. Is that correct?”

“Yes, ma’am,” was Dash’s reply again. She’d finished counting. There were exactly thirty-five tiles making up the mosaic.

“So tell me then, Cadet Dash.” Spitfire stopped pacing. “Why, after receiveing such a high quality education, can’t you read a simple sign?!” she bawled, suddenly mere inches from Rainbow’s now sweaty face. She opened her mouth, but was cut off by the continuing tirade of questions. “Are you illiterate? Maybe we need to send you back to school for remedial reading lessons. Is that what’s needed here, Cadet?”

“No, ma’am!” Rainbow practically yelled back then cringed back as Spitfire removed her sunglasses. Once unleashed, the full power of her well practiced ‘pissed off commanding officer’ glare sent the normally unflappable pegasus quivering.

“So you read the sign and entered anyway, is that it?” she asked, lowering her voice. The authoritative edge combined with the relentless, granite glower forced Rainbow Dash to crumble like Pinkie’s day old coffee cake. Ears and wings drooped and she lowered her head.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” she conceded shamefully.

Spitfire sighed. “Alright, at least you admit it. Stand up straight.” Rainbow obeyed and got ready for whatever punishment the flame haired officer came up with.

Spitfire whistled over two pegasi dressed in same light blue military shirt as herself. The white and blonde stallion Rainbow didn’t recognize. The teal mare, however, she knew quite well.

“Cadet Skybox,” Spitfire addressed the stallion, who saluted smartly. “Good work today. You’re dismissed. Take leave for the rest of the day.” Skybox didn’t need to be told twice, and cleared out in a rustle of feathers. “Lightning Dust, you’re still on probation, but good news. Cadet Rainbow Dash has graciously ‘volunteered’ to help finish cleaning the displays. Isn’t that right, Rainbow Dash?”

So much for taking the rest of the day off. “Yes, ma’am,” Rainbow affirmed weakly with a nod.

“Good. Then as you were, cadets. I’ll see you in an hour.” Orders given, Spitfire sharply about-faced and marched away.

Armed with rags and glass cleaner the two cadets divided up the room as started work. Naturally it wasn’t long before it turned into a race. Both mares being equally competitive, they finished with a good half-hour to spare, which left them with little else to do but make small talk and peruse the displays.

“So thanks for not laughing back there, Lightning Dust,” Rainbow said graciously.

“Pfff... Like I’m gonna laugh at another cadet’s screwup on the last day of probation with Spitfire right there. I’m reckless, not stupid, Dash,” the blonde mare answered dryly. “I might raz you about it later though,” she ribbed.

“Yeah, I guess I deserve that…” An uneasy silence followed, both former teammates conscious of the elephant in the room, but not sure how to address it. Both took a few minutes to examine the displays a little closer than necessary.

Dash hadn’t seen much of the former lead pony since Dust was put on probation. There’d been some lingering tension each time she saw her peeling potatoes or other menial tasks Spitfire came up with. “Hey, Dust... we’re like, cool, right?”

Dust turned away from the cabinet of medals she’d been eyeing and gave Dash an appraising look. “Look, Dash, I’ll be honest. I was pretty saddle-sore about how things went down…” She paused for second and let out a breath, shuffling her hooves around. “But after getting hammered—not my finest moment by the way—talking to some of the others… Well, you were right,” she admitted, sounding much like Dash earlier. “I was out of control up there. You did what you were supposed to do—let somepony know about it.” She walked forward and extended a wing. “So, if you’re cool, I’m cool.”

“Fine by me, Dust.” Dash smiled broadly and blue and green pinions slapped together in renewed comradery. Never let it be said Rainbow Dash couldn’t forgive a pony’s mistakes—as long as they owned to them. Not like I’m perfect… Close, but not perfect.

“But wait, why are you still grounded? You got chewed out weeks ago.”

“Yeah… Hah ha,” Dust chuckled sheepishly while scratching the back of her neck. “Remember I said I got hammered?” She got a nod back from her squadmate, who folded her forelegs and reclined against a wall in anticipation of a good story. “I may have mouthed off to the Captain while drunk.”

“Woah… Dude, seriously?”

“And I may have called her an old grandma who flies with one eye on the regs manual.”

“Bwahaha!” Dash could barely contain herself. “Wow, she must’ve flipped. The buck. Out!”

“Actually no. She was pretty chill about it. ‘Cadet’ she said, ‘Taking pointless risks and relying on luck, like you’re doing now, is a poor way to reach old age.’ Then I snapped back, ‘Yeah, I could reach old age—like a certain someone—maybe net myself a gold watch. Or… fly with a little ‘tude, make a name for myself.’ ”

“Nothing wrong with pushing the envelope,” Rainbow commented.

“Dash, the only envelope you’ve ever pushed is the one addressed to common sense.” The two speedsters immediately stood at attention at Spitfire’s interruption. “And I’ll give ask you the same question I asked Lightning: you want your name on a gold watch or a coffin?

“Lightning Dust. Consider your probation over. Wait for us outside.” A raised wing blocked Lightning as she tried to pass. “And it goes without saying: I don’t want to see you in my office again. Are we clear?”

“As crystal, ma’am,” Lightning acknowledged.

“That goes for you too, Rainbow. I need my two top flyers setting a good example for the rest of the rookies.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Rainbow, punctuating with a salute.

Once back in the lobby the trio was unexpectedly overrun by a flock of children, who started peppering them with excited questions.

“It’s Spitfire!” called out a filly.

“Can I have an autograph?”

“Isn’t that the pony who did the Sonic Rainboom?”

“What’s it like being a Wonderbolt?”

With practiced ease, Spitfire latched onto the last question, having answered it many times. “So you want to know the life of a Wonderbolt?” she asked the nodding faces after slipping on aviators sunglasses, adopting a serious tone. “It’s hard work and sacrifice, kids. If you just want to be famous, find another job. Make no mistake. The training’s tough, the hours long, and we miss our families every single day, but do you know what makes it worthwhile?”

She paused for dramatic effect, gazing over the enraptured expressions of the young audience. “All of you,” she continued passionately and swept a hoof over the crowd. “We do it to protect you, your skies and your futures, with the hope some of you will be inspired to join us and do the same. That’s what it means to be a Wonderbolt.”

The lobby echoed with the sound of applause as all the children and quite a few adults stomped their hooves. There were also a few sniffles from those truly touched by the speech.

“Dash… are you crying?”

“No, it’s—it’s raining, okay.”

“But we’re indoors.”

“I said it’s raining, Lightning Dust!”

By the time Spitfire cleared path outside, Rainbow had wiped the ‘rain’ from her eyes.

“Great speech, Captain, you probably got a few future Bolts out of it,” Rainbow said.

Spitfire gave a nonchalant shrug. These speeches were fairly boilerplate for her at this point. Still, it felt good to encourage the next generation. Wonderbolts needed replacing fairly often—wear and tear, and old age doing in most of them. At twenty-five, Spitfire was no spring chicken herself, heading over the hill in pegasus years.

Time to start cultivating future replacements, she thought as she watched the two younger mares chat. At least it seemed they’d patched things up. Made her job a heck of alot easier. “Alright, ladies, you’re dismissed. Lightning Dust, I’ll see at the academy next week.” The teal mare whipped of a salute, and took off. “Rainbow Dash, hold up for second,” Spitfire quickly added before Dash could also take flight.

“Tomorrow there’s a weapon’s demonstration by some hotshot inventor. I’m on the panel judging its effectiveness. Since you’re staying at the castle anyway, how’d you like to be my adjunct for the day? You might learn something.”

Dash was experienced enough to know this wasn’t a request. “Sure, I’ll be there, ma’am.”

“Good. Rendezvous at the Royal Guard’s practice field at ten hundred hours. Dismissed.”

The pegasi traded salutes and took off in opposite directions.


The Grand Hayett of Canterlot Luxury Suites towered over the surrounding buildings, but even it was dwarfed by the sheer majesty of the Royal Palace. With the annual National Agricultural Expo in town, the group was lucky to find rooms vacant.

Looking out from the suite’s balcony, Wallflower breathed in the clean mountain air. Even from behind the built-in privacy spell—tint added to all balconies after some couple behaved a bit too amorously while outside— the view from the 100th floor was spectacular. For the first time in a while, he smiled broadly.

They had finally arrived.

Canterlot: the shining beacon of hope and prosperity lighting the way for all Equestria. The old city spoke to the historian. Towers of gold built upon the strata of history and accomplishments of Equestria’s heroes. Tales of ages past practically oozed out of the architecture. He could spend days wandering the many museums and libraries. The Grand Central Library of Equestria, in itself, could eat up months. The massive wall to wall stacks housed books from all over the world, with only the Royal Library rivaling its collection.

Speaking of the castle, Equestrian Today reported the recently rediscovered underground crystal mines were due to be sealed in the coming days.

A pity that. What he wouldn’t give to lead an expedition to explore the old shafts. Celestia knows what lost artifacts lay buried and forgotten.

His sister watched the setting summer sun alongside the gray unicorn. She didn’t share his smile, however. Lack of sleep left her eyes bloodshot and her movements lethargic. The suite’s luxuriously appointed poster bed sang its siren song, calling her to its pillowy embrace.

“My, my, you ponies really fixed up the place nice.”

By force of will, May suppressed a shudder. Her personality was pleasant enough, and she knew it unfair, plus a bit rude—Mother taught her not to be speciesist—but on an instinctive level everything about the little changeling standing behind her felt alien. The light trill of her speech, the pupilless eyes, the way her hoofsteps made no noise, allowing the agent to silently appear from behind.

“You could almost forget a battle happened here. Oh look! Down there’s where I first landed after the shield went down.” Facsimile sighed wistfully while pointing out a distant unrepaired crater. “Fun times… Well, until we were blasted out.” She rubbed the underside of her carapace in sympathy. The hard landing had been especially painful for her, not possessing a legionnaire’s heavy armor.

May moved past the infiltrator, making a conscious effort not to touch her. If Facsimile took offensive she didn’t show it. The larger mare acting so uncomfortable around her was small boast to her ego—meant she was scary.

“Your sister looks out of it,” she said conversationally, turning to Wallflower as both watched Mayflower tread back inside. “Her emotions are all over the place. Smells terrible.”

Wallflower simply shrugged. May probably needed some sleep. As far he knew she’d spent the entire trip in the cargo car, putting the finishing touches on Icarus and Alula inside her mobile workshop. At least he didn’t have pull the damnable caravan all the way to Canterlot, thank Luna.

“Her presentation’s tomorrow,” he said, following Fax back inside. “She has a lot riding on it.”

“I’ve a got a little prep work to do tonight, myself. You want to come?”

“Me?” he asked, perplexed. “What would you need me for?”

“A lady doesn’t go the ball unescorted.”

Facsimile smirked at the last word before flashing green, blinding Wallflower for a short moment. As his sight returned, he saw light pink pegasus with a feathered blue mane and two blue lightning bolts adorning her flank.

“Firefly, at your service,” she purred in introduction, winking a flirtatious amethyst eye at the stallion. “I’ll be your date for the evening.”

“A party?” Discord interjected after flashing into existence. “I want to go. There’s bound to be cake. I didn’t get any of Pinkie’s,” he pouted.

“Trust me, I tried. Almost lost a limb.”

“Never get between mares and our cake, Wally,” called from inside the bathroom. Exiting, she couldn’t help but give the changeling’s disguise a professional assessment.

Good wing and muscle development. Short primaries, well maintained. A tight middle. Definitely an acrobat’s body; good for quick, sharp turns, but not extended speed. The mane-cut’s a little retro; feathered hair’s been out style since the neighties.

Being a red-blooded stallion, her brother eyed Firefly with a focus on her other assets.

Said assets were quickly covered in a tight, blue, sequined dress. Both fashionable and functional, it left her wings free while slits along the side allowed her legs freedom of movement.

“It’s a formal engagement, Discord. Everypony there may be a bit too high class for you,” Firefly explained, smoothly switching pronouns.

“Too high class?” The draconequus puffed in indignation at the very thought. With a snap he reappeared wearing a dapper top hat and tails, and holding a cane in the shape of himself. “I’ll have you know, I am the very model of a well-mannered gentlecolt.”

Author's Note:

Editors credit and thanks to: notMurphy and Georg

Proofreading credit and thanks to:
Mixolydian Grey
ping111

Phew! Now all everypony is where they need to be. Only took about a month. Hopefully the next chapter will be shorter hence a quicker update time.

Comments ( 36 )

Because if one monocle was evil, two was doubly evil!

LOL! :rainbowlaugh: SuperVillain logic

This is saturated with so many references that I was drooling at the thought of re-watching and rereading everything I caught. The callbacks were a nice touch as well. Seeing Lightning Dust return felt pretty good.

The touch on religion was fascinating. Is it going to hold any significance later in the story? To me, it seems like it would be a weak point for Twilight later on if or when she has to deal with her faith in her long time mentor.

Anyways, nice chapter! Looking forward to the next. :twilightsmile:

My goodness. I lost it every time Rainbow had a thought that caused Twilight to twitch. That monocle thing was too much as well.
I think I know where this demonstration is going with Spitfire. Be sure to get the next chapter out quick and maybe not so long. I'm a slow reader. This bloody thing took an hour-and-a-half for me.

This is what Discord should be like.

These chapters are always really a delight to read. There's a very noticeable quality about your writing that sets it in the top percentile of the stories on the site.
You do a great job with world building, and I think that's what I enjoy the most in this. It's not so much expanding on the canon universe as much as it is fleshing it out, which is really wonderful. Too often stories try to create something entirely new, some new setting or history, that comes so detached from what the readers already know that they often feel the need to put in big lengthy backstories along with them that slows everything down. You strike just the right balance between familiar and new.

The only concern I have about this story are the OCs. Don't get me wrong, I don't find them falling into any of the usual faults of original characters. They have believable motivations and their personal situations make them compelling. And it's already clear how conflicts may arise later in the story with our three protagonists, since all of their interests are simultaneously congruent and incompatible with one another. Mayflower wants to take revenge on Celestia and prove herself with her flying gear. Wallflower doesn't want his sister to get in over her head with Celestia, but still supports her dream of flying. And then Fax has an interest to harm Celestia, but sees May's machine as a danger. They all have a reason to work together, but it isn't going to come as a surprise when loyalties are tested and the characters are put in situations where they have to make a choice about their priorities.

But what bothers me is not so much their motivations as much as their personalities, or somewhat lack thereof. Perhaps it's just because it's been so long since I read this story that I may have forgotten how the characters are presented earlier in the story, but I'm not getting much personality from May and Wall. Normally that would allow readers to slip into the character's position and become part of the story, but that's not done as easily with the frequent shifting of perspectives. Again, maybe it's just been a while and I've forgotten how the two were shown earlier.

Who really worries me is Fax. The chapter started off exciting with her demonstrating her skills as an infiltrator and fighter, and then we see her as impersonal, professional personality with a bit of a wit about her. Then she goes fangirl in an instant. We already knew that she was considered defective by the other changelings and we see her interest with Con Mane in the previous chapter, but the sudden snap seemed to be just for the sake of a joke that ruined her character. It played with her being a little too goofy for too long, and I feel that a short burst of sudden interest may have done the job just as well. Instead of a layered personality, it's more like a light switch. And later she's back to being cunning and serious and a little seductive with no one mentioning the outburst again, which makes it seem like this side of her is going to be more of a gag than part of her personality.
I mean, I'm sure that you know where you're going with this story and these characters, and maybe you have a reason for setting Fax up this way in mind for later. But from what I can see at this moment, it just looks like another case of the "serious, but can be lol so silly when she sees her trigger" OC personality that's too common and too boring to like.

But as for the rest of the cast, I think you've knocked it out of the park. All of the show characters feel very true to themselves without being over-saturated exaggerations of their personalities. The humor is well timed and balanced with the rest of the serious writing. I can't wait for the next chapter!

I LOVE how you wrote the characters! All of the descriptions and actions and dialogue--it all felt genuine and real. I loved RD messing with Rarity and going gaga over the Wonderbolts. The monocle love in this chapter was also hilarious.

This is a very well written story with really interesting and fleshed out chars, canon and original (I like Fax). Keep it up!

Wait, wait, what. Dusty is FINE, But GILDA gets the shit kicking?

I don't seem to recall Gilda almost getting ponies killed. I:

I need more wine.

The expression is "hide bound traditionalists", not "hind bound traditionalists".

Besides that, I'm not sure if I have anything to say. Mayflower seems painfully genre blind to still want to demonstrate new weapons technology to the military, and especially so for including Celestia's feather in the device - I don't know how she could possibly see that as a good idea in these circumstances - but I'm taking that to just be mandatory for the genre.

Why is she trying to help the equestrian government... When her mission is to take down its leader, and aid one of their mortal enemies?

Sorry for the late response to comments. Servers went down due to the storm and been working from home the last few days. Damn snow.:ajbemused: Things were kinda crazy with upset clients.

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Thanks for the constructive criticism. I'll keep it in mind going forward. Always good to know how to improve. I'm flattered you think my writing is top tier, certainly a boost to my confidence.

Maybe that thing with Fax was a misstep, I don't know. The next chapter is very Fax and Wallflower heavy so she should get fleshed out. I'd put down forgetting their personalities to the lag between updates. Not to worry. I have a much bigger text bank saved up for use on the next chapter, and its only three scenes long... right now.
This is not going to be a novel or one those never ending stories we have on the site which go on for over a year with no end is sight. Sorry... sometimes I get the feeling some authors are just stringing us along. Pet peeve.

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Sorry about wait. I'm just a slow writer by nature. Fast reader though, oddly enough.

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Why yes, religion is going to be a factor. I try not seed things without using them later.

2234263>>2233791
Maybe this is my fault for not clarifying. Remember from her conversation with Rainbow that Mayflower is a patriot. Celestia aside, her main goals are to make Equestria better and to enable everypony to fly. She needs a military contract if she is to have any hope of mass producing Icarus. Even if Celestia is gone, Equestria as country will still be around.

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Monocles are awesome. That is all. +10 to dapperness and +15 to snobbishness. Glad you're enjoying the story. I hope I can keep up the quality of work. That is one fears which slows me down, to be honest.

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I put down what Lightning did as a training accident, so it's forgivable. I personally think Gilda got shafted, but I needed to keep Rainbow's stubborn streak alive. Here's crossing our fingers Gilda gets some redemption in season 4.

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As I said: Bastard covered bastard with bastard filling is what I am going for.

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But, wasn't she there when Discord and Crysalis plotted the country's downfall? Like, why does she think the changelings want Celestia dead?

This story is awesome, but I'm blanking on the motivations and logic a little bit. Not trying to just your balls, just curious. If you're usin the patriot argument, you need to have her say how killing two goddesses that virtually guarantee that no one would dare invade will somehow make the country better. How does killing Equestria's nuclear deterant make the country safer?:twilightsmile:

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That's actually an argument in the next chapter. (spoilers). It shall be explained.

For a serious story, you sure do have some cute standout gags wedged in there. The monocles and Dash's reaction to being caught having liquid emotions were both fiiine stuff.

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Thanks. Basically wanted to keep some levity in there. Can't be all crying about parents, plotting, and angst all the time. Needed some comedy beats.

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Coolio!

Again, I'm no trying to call you out of anything. Just want to be sure that you got your I's dotted and your t's crossed, you know? :twilightsmile:

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Well you're a drill sergeant, so I wouldn't expect anything less. On that note, hope the Spitfire thing wasn't too over the top.

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No, she seemed pretty true to life... if not a bit less explicit. :pinkiecrazy:

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>> Starlight Nova
As I said: Bastard covered bastard with bastard filling is what I am going for.

Oh, that reminds me of one of my favorite terms from Transmetropolitan: 'spherical' bastard (someone who is a bastard from any angle)

>"Rule sixteen of infiltration: an unheard changeling is an undetected changeling."
>Starts humming.
LOGIC. :derpytongue2:

A most enjoyable chapter, especially the bit with Dash and Dust. Much better resolution than the episode ever gave us. Oh, and the hazards of turning into Pinkie? Hilarious. Definitely looking forward to more.

Facsimile is best changeling. She is just awesome. That team name is awesome as well, but in a somewhat different way.

Hmn, using Celestia's feather to power the wings. Interesting.

That may be the most hilarious Pinkie Pie scene breaking I have ever seen. Makes me wonder if it's just a one off gag, or possibly something that will be relevant later.

I like how you are writing Dash, her characterization is just great. Her interaction with Spitfire and Dust was very nice.

Ah the games gods play with mortals. Why do I get the feeling that both Discord and Celestia will be screwed in the end?

2244230 Whoa whoa whoa... no anal:pinkiehappy:

A Tyrant Celestia story. Interesting.

I love crossbows... Alula!

Princess Celestia’s old Sun armor complete with badflank halberd: cool.

Not sure if referencing my story or not... :trixieshiftright:

This is not going to be a novel or one those never ending stories we have on the site which go on for over a year with no end is sight.

You wouldn't happen to be obliquely referring to a certain Red vs. Blue crossover out there, would you? Last I bothered to keep up with it, it was at or nearing 100 chapters long.:trollestia:

I like how you're handling this story so far. May and Wally are very likeable, and I want to see them both come out of this intact. Fax is kinda cool too, with her fangirl moments; makes her a bit more relateable. Discord is very Discord-able. As for the Lightning Dust vs. Gilda thing, the one thing that Gilda has working against her is that she's a douche-canoe, and doesn't seem to care. :rainbowdetermined2:

2229123
I too am a slow reader, but prefer longer chapter updates. Anything to prolong the experience.

hope more comes soon

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i3.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/117/021/enhanced-buzz-28895-1301694293-0.jpg

But seriously I am hard at work, but the department just fired a guy so guess who has to pick up the lost slack? This guy. :twilightoops:

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Not sure if referencing my story or not.

I think this is more of an example of great minds thinking alike. :twilightblush:

You wouldn't happen to be obliquely referring to a certain Red vs. Blue crossover out there, would you? Last I bothered to keep up with it, it was at or nearing 100 chapters long.

100 chapters? Yeah, I am not doing that.

Greetings and thank you for trusting the WRITE group for reviewing purposes. I'm Simon o'Sullivan, and this thing hanging from my face is my beard. We both will offer advice about what you might want to fix to improve your story.

I know this fails to be an excuse, but today my laptop died. I'm not going to say that I had a review that would dwarf any other review in the history of forever, but I had some stuff there about the first chapter. And my laptop died and I lost everything I had. I know it wasn't a lot, only a few quotes about lesser grammar error (you have some genitives where they shouldn't and I think you had "the other the other" there once.

Other than that, the story seems pretty solid for what I've read, which due to my schedule, was only til half of the third chapter, but here you have a review so far.

My beard warns every new reader that this review contains spoilers,

The prologue shows us the main characters' father. I curse you and bless you as the same time for that. Curse you because I wanted to see more of that dude, but he died. I bless you, however, because that's a good sign. I liked the character, so it hurt when he died. I would've expect something more aside from what happened, and I expected something more from the Royal Guards, to be fair. It's very hard to use weather as an "antagonist", so to speak, with the pegasi being able to control it. I'd expect Royal Guards, at least the pegasi ones, to be able to sucker punch clouds that stand on their way. Anyways, we're moving on.

Characters are great. The unusual mindset of Mayflower is interesting to say the least, being an earth pony who wants to fly like a pegasus. Wallflower's an egghead, a unicorn with a lower than average magic power. I have nothing against this, though I'm concerned about people writing OCs with lower than average stats to avoid being Mary Sues, and sometimes they turn into underdogs. In this case, however, they seem to compensate with other traits. Wallflower is a dude with academic knowledge to keep Twilight entertained for a few hours and Mayflower is a badass glider. They are both likeable and relatable, which is important when writing original characters.

I'm afraid that the last thing I read, due to my problems today, was the conversation between Dash and Mayflower. I like how characters are slowly developed, though many people might not like the concept of “tribalism”, but you're using it as a motivation for Mayflower to defeat the odds.

As I said, and for what I've read for now, there are some lesser issues in the prologue, but nothing too off-putting. The story's solid enoough to make people overlook barely noticeable grammar issues, and the characters are interesting. To be honest, after seeing that the story had already been featured on EqD, it made me think that we had little to do here.

As for the mentoring thing, it's a feature we have yet to officially implement. However, I'm looking forward to keeping track of this story if my own stories allow me, which means that, when we stat with that, I might be interested in mentoring you during the story.

This is Simon o'Sullivan and Beard, WRITE's Manly reviewers of Manly fics, signing out.

Please come out with the next chapter soon. I want to see Celestia go down for robbing an innocent family of a loving father and husband.

Sorry if I sound impatient or something, but any idea when we can expect the next chapter to this thrilling story? Great job so far, I'm enjoying how you handle Fax and Wall-Flower

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I am waiting on a new editor. I kind of hit a wall on chapter 5 so hopeful he/she will help with that. I have moved ahead with chapter 6 though and that is coming along nicely.

Sorry for the delay. :facehoof:

How long until the next chapter?

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Please see my latest blog post.

This is such a great story! But its 2 years since the previous update for this, you left it at such a good part. Is there plans for continuation???

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