//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: Resolving // Story: All The Way Back // by Jordan179 //------------------------------// Luna came back to consciousness in complete darkness, a crushing weight upon her shields, and her metabolism idling on a trickle of gravitic-compression nuclear fusion rather than oxygen-based biochemistry, because the air around her was a toxic oxygen-depleted soup of lithic combustion products. Yes, she thought to herself. This is about what I expected to find, awakening. She frowned. The fact that this, rather than a feather bed with mine own true love serving me breakfast, is what I expected and to what I in truth find myself awakening to greet does imply that I live in a less than perfect world. Ah well! Mine own true love knows me not and is a mare besides; feather beds are over-rated and -- well, I do wish somepony would bring me breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Or all three, really. Enough maundering, Luna told herself. Time to take stock and dig myself out. A quick gravitic pulse confirmed her position and that of the lightning drake. The protracted battle had shattered the structural integrity both of the Dragon's lair and of the caverns immediately beneath. The collapse of the main tunnel had brought down the burden of the peak above. The immense masses of rock had acted like a pile-driver, pounding Luna and her foe alike ito the floor, and then smashing that floor and its supporting stone into the vacancies underneath it. Both the ancient missile launch tubes, and the narrow passages by which Luna and Summer Lightning had ascended, had been battered to rubble; Luna could plainly sense the loose rock where vacuities had been on her earlier mental map. For the sake of Summer and Trixie, she very much hoped that she had not accidentally collapsed all the caverns within the mountain. As she extended her updated mental map further, Luna realized with relief that the collapse had been arrested by the heavily-reinforced structure of the antediluvian fortress, and that the battle had lasted far longer than necessary to let them make it down that far, even given the most pessimistic plausible estimate of their progress. The state of the mines beyond that was more worrisome. The hammer-blows of the titanic battle had plainly shaken the whole mountain, and there had been partial collapses; at least one of which lay along the main way from the missile base to the natural caves beneath. The chances were that Summer and Trixie had gotten past that part before the roof fell in, but still Luna found the possibility disturbing. The good news was that -- beyond the mines -- the caves seemed intact. There was nothing she could do to aid Summer and Trixie, if they needed aid, while she herself remained trapped in rubble and the Dragon's fate was not certainly known. The pulse had revealed exactly where the Dragon was buried, quite close by Luna. He did not seem to be moving and -- given that last wound Luna had dealt him, she did not expect the lightning drake to leap up and return to the fray any time soon. She knew that, were her foe anything less than a Dragon, the hurt would almost surely been mortal. As it was, she thought he might well wind up crippled, if he did not get medical attention. The first step was to free herself from her rocky tomb. Ordinary digging would not suffice: even her Alicorn muscles were not mighty enough to move her limbs against the stupendous weight of stone imprisoning her. But being a Alicorn, of course, she was far from limited to the use of mere muscle, or even ordinary magic. She pondered briefly, before acting. It would be well within her power to simply blast herself free, but this would both require some energy and be dangerous to any allies near her position, or even lower down on the mountain. What was more, it could do further, possibly even fatal, harm to the lightning drake. And she might further damage what was left of her weapons and armor. Which would be a shame. Luna liked her accessories. She decided upon a subtler way of freeing herself. Using her own personal variant of Alicorn shape-shifting, she phased into a mass of cold plasma, converting her accoutrements into the same state of matter and bringing them along with her. This might have caused the immediate collapse of the overburden into the place where she had been, but Luna used her gravitic field to exert an outward pressure on the rock, replacing that of her defensive force field. She did this because she wanted to avoid letting the rubble above her settle into a denser packing. Then, shaping that force field around and ahead of her cold plasma body, she more or less oozed upward through the rock. This was a trick she had first learned from her possessing Night Shadow, but Luna was never one to scorn learning from a skilled foe. Now, it enabled her to slide slowly upward through the rubble, forcing it aside with her gravitics and then letting it pack again beneath her. This method of passage offered the significant advantage of being far less violent than simply blasting out. Instead of spraying massive boulders in all directions, all she did was slightly shake the stones around her. This should cause no serious avalanches, nor harm the lightning drake, nor risk further collapses to the caverns beneath her position. It was a slow mode of progress, but Luna was not really in a hurry any more: she had won her battle. As Luna rose through the loose rock, she periodically sent gravitic and acoustic pulses to refine her image of her surroundings. By this means she determined that the dragon's lair had not collapsed completely: the part nearest the main cave-mouth, where she and her guards had previously confronted the lightning-drake, was essentially undamaged, with the tunnel leading halfway to the point where the Dragon lay buried. It was from that point, therefore, that she should logically commence to disinter -- and rescue -- her defeated foe. Emerging from the rock, Luna found -- not entirely to her surprise -- that two of her Night Guards were already standing there. They were Cave Flitter and Fortitude, a Vera and Pseudo Nocturne repsectively. Cave Flitter was a small, quick mare with a talent for blindflying by means of sonar; Fortitude a burly Pegasus of tremendous strength and endurance. "Ma'am!" Cave Flitter saluted as Luna oozed from the rocks and re-formed. The Night Pegasus looked jumpy; Luna wondered if Flitter had first imagined the cold plasma to be some trick of the Dragon's. "We came looking for you," Flitter said. "Glad to see you alive and well!" "Better than the Dragon," Luna commented. "He is buried beneath that rubble." She looked over and pointed with a wing. "Sore wounded. I shall dig him out." She turned back to Flitter. "Have you seen aught of Summer Lightning, or the Pony we rescued from the Dragon's lair? They were making for a lower exit -- the collapse should not have harmed them." "No, Ma'am," replied Flitter. "But Sharpeyes and Starsoar are scouting the slopes right now. Shall I call them in?" "Let them continue their patrol," Luna decided. "They may spot Summer and Trixie an they emerge. I will dig out the lightning drake, and secure his surrender, then join the search if they not yet be found." She considered for a moment. "Ye twain should stay clear whilst I dig -- there's danger to ye of falling rocks. Flitter, go to Wrath and Vengeance and let them know I have triumphed and am not sore hurt. Fort, find Sharp and Star and tell them to keep an eye out for Summer and Trixie -- Trixie is a light blue Unicorn clad in purple -- and to aid them if needs be. Oh, and mind them to 'ware rockfalls from mine own digging. Copy?" The communications terms of pre-cataclysmic Amareica were millennia gone, but Luna's guards had already begun to be familiar with her anachronistic turns of speech, and so Cave Flitter and Fortitude simply nodded and answered "Yes, Ma'am." "Dismissed." The two Guards flew off on their missions, and Luna bent to her task of digging out the Dragon. Luna started slowly, to give Fortitude time to warn Sharpeye and Starsoar of what she was about to do. She began by pushing an exploratory tunnel horizontally, toward a point directly above the Dragon's tomb. She did this by first pulverizing the already loose rock with her force beams, then spraying the resultant spoil out the cave mouth in a long telekinetic arc, intended to be very visible to her own Ponies, thus minimizing the chance of an accident. She kept the overburden from falling back into the hole with a hemi-cylindrical force field, then quickly melted the exposed surfaces together with her ion beams. (Sun-hot plasma might have worked even better, but that was her Sister's element, rather than her own). The work went fast, compared to what modern Ponies might have done with dynamite, personal tools and ordinary telekinesis. It went fast even compared to what the Ponies of the late Age of Wonders might have done with mechanized borers, employing whirling diamond-tipped drills and laser or plasma beams to soften the rock faces. Luna was an Alicorn Avatar, and as such had access to levels of power beyond those of the mere machines of either civilization. It was not long before Luna, her tunnel sloping slightly upward, dug to a point far above the level of the main tunnel floor, but less than an octal hooves above the top of the Dragon's head. Luna had, at the last, pulverized the rock beneath her to cushion her force field when the ceiling fell in on them; the Dragon had simply lain there and been smashed into the solid stone floor. Consequently, he had not been pushed down as deep as had the Alicorn. Luna stood atop the buried head of the lightning drake, and pondered her next move. She could free the Dragon from the rock rather rapidly by englobing them both in a force field, and cutting them both loose with shearing planes of pure gravity. Then, she could telekinese them both out of the mountain. This would work. It would also bring down a good part of the peak above, starting avalanches that might endanger her friends far below, and quite possibly collapse the dragon's lair into the missile base beneath it. She could see future uses for that base, so ... no. Instead, she dug more carefully. She used her telekinesis as trowel rather than power-drill, feeling around first before removing each load: roughly a very large bucketful of spoil at a time. She still dug very rapidly, by the standards of any normal Pony or even team of Ponies: even Rock Ponies could not have matched her pace for very long. She was very careful, very fast and very steady; in those big bucket-sized quantities, she dug down toward the Dragon's buried head. Of course, as she was digging not through a mass of compacted clay or earth, but rather through a rockfall whose constituents ranged from pebbles to stones to slabs to boulders bigger than her own body, the task was by no means as easy nor the progress as even as that brief description implies. Small enough stones she removed whole: larger ones she shattered with force bolts; really big boulders she carved to pieces with carefully-controlled gravity lances. These energies she employed where normal Pony miners would have labored long and hard with picks; exhaustingly with hard-hammering hooves; or dangerously with the drilling and detonation of explosive charges. What she did was thus safer than would have been ordinary mining yet it was still far from completely safe. She was hollowing void into loose rock, and she might yet bring the ceiling down again if she failed to take care. The laws of physics applied to her as much as to any other Pony. She was the Avatar of one of those physical forces: indeed, the one that threatened to collapse her tunnel, an irony which Luna fully appreciated. Of course, being who and what she was, she had an excellent intuitive grap of how mass behaved under gravitational acceleration. She did not trust her Cosmic Self's callous attitude toward mere mortals, but she most certainly did trust its undrstanding of its own Force. With her telekinesis, she probed and tested and sensed the stabiity of the overburden; with her ion bolts and lasers she welded together stone pillars and lintels and arches to maintain that stability, supporting their shares of the millions of tons of rock overhead. It was engineering, and Luna was an exceedingly good engineer. As she continued, Luna mapped out in her mind the excavation which would eventually be required to easily and safely extract the Lightning-Drake and his hoard. It would have to be fairly wide, or the whole mountain top might repeatedy collapse on the Dragon as he emerged -- a prospect which, while amusing, woud run counter to her own aims. It is no honor to gain a foe's surrender, and then drop rocks upon him! The shaft she first sank was much narrower: only about as wide as the length of the Lightning Drake's head. This was quite intentionl: she wanted the huge and hostile rchosaur to be very much t her mercy when she first confronted him. Even crippled as he was, the gret Dragon could still hurl lightning bolts, though to fight in his current condition against Luna would be suicidal. Lna wanted to face him alone, for fear that a surprise strike might slay one of her escort brefore she could shield him. It would be terribe to lose one of her loyal Ponies now, when the battle was basically won. Luna was far too wise in the cruel chances of war to imagine such an event to be impossible. False surrender was always a hazard of attempting to take prisoners, and Luna was acutely aware that the Lightning Drake had not yet even offered surrender. After not too long a while, Luna had worked her way down to the point where the tips of the Dragon's great orange spines protruded from the rocks. Now, Luna proceeded with especial caution, for she knew that the Lightning Drake might possibly be conscious and belligerent enough to attempt an attack, foolish as such an action would be in his current situation. When one of her Guard came by to report on the as-yet-fruitless search for Summer Lightning and Trixie Lulamoon, Luna met them at the tunnel mouth, insisting that her visitor remain outside. Not only were some of the Lightning Drake's bolts capable of affecting wide areas, but if he had enough energy he might well choose to bring down the ceiling again, in the hopes of getting at least one pony. Luna thought it better than to tempt her foe with the chance. Finally, Luna uncovered the whole top of the huge, blue-and-orange head. As she finished removing the last of the rubble from that great scaled surface, an armored eyelid opened, and a slitted eyeball, the size of her whole body, swivelled up to glare at her. "So," the Lightning Drake wheezed, in what was but a ghost of his normal, booming voice -- Luna supposed that this was because it could no longer coordinate voicebox with lungs, and was feeding the former with air from the muscular contractions of its neck -- "Thou hast dug down to gloat at me, in thy triumph and mine own ruin. I had thought better of the Moon Princess, though alien monster I know thee to be." Wheezing laughter. "Plainly, I judged thee too high." The tone, and words, were both provocative. Luna might have let herself be provoked, especiay given al the trouble she had taken to dig him out alive, had she not grasped his tactic. He was amost helpless now, and given her might she could slay him with a thought. Slaying or tormenting him would show her as a villain -- but that was a role into which Luna did not want to ever be again cast. So she would forbear from further harming him. No matter what annoying, or even insulting thing he said, Luna would not add a new chapter to the black bloody legend of Nightmare Moon. So, instead of lashing out with either powers or tongue, Princess Luna affected boredom. "I have defeated thee," she informed the Lightning Drake, "as was fated by our respective might and skills. Thou now hast no real choice but surrender. Yield now, and I shall grant thee good terms." Her tone was calm and almost perfunctory, as if fatigued by the pointless necessity of discussing an event so plainly inevitable. "Arrogant Pony Princess!" hissed the Dragon. "And what if I do not choose to surrender?" "In that case," Luna yawned, "I should have no good choice but to treat thee as a foe and continue my war upon thee. Which -- as thou art now all but helpless -- would mean I needs must batter thy stubborn pate senseless, then bind thee in chains adamantine and cast thy living carcass into Tartarus, until thou dost admit defeat -- however long that might take." Luna had the rather nasty satisfaction of seeing the Dragon's pupil widen and then pinpoint at that statement. Aye, she thought, mull on that a bit. How many years -- decades -- centuries -- we might keep thee. For a moment, the thought filled her with cruel glee, as she much misliked his attitude. Then, remembering how she, herself, had spent most of the past millennium, she felt a sudden surge of sympathy for the Lightning Drake. Please, she thought, don't make me in earnest do this. Thou'rt an obnoxious and mistrustful old beast, but this thou deservest not. All thou dost is bravely face thy foe. Thou didst not betray and rebel against thine own Sister. I stand now in judgement over thee -- but I am by far the worse malefactor of us twain. To the Lightning Drake, of course, she revealed none of these thoughts. Instead, she said. "There does remain the fate of the hoard thou didst bring into Equestria in direct support of thine invasion." At that provocative formulation of the legal status of the hoard, she knew she had the Dragon's full attention. The reason was complicated. The Laws of War varied from age to age and land to land. Most Pony realms regarded property belonging to a hostile combatant as fair spoil, under the theory that, if life was forfeit, so was the lesser right of prperty. The Dragon realms inverted this: a hoard was the essence of personal Draconic honor, in some ways more vital than life itself to any proper Dragon. The Lightning Drake had invaded Equestria, and in so doing had hazarded his life on the fortunes of war. But -- depending on one's interpretation of the purpose of his bringing along his hoard, he had not necessarily so hazarded his whole hoard. If he merely took it along so that he might personally enjoy it, Luna, as the victor, would be entitled to a "trophy" -- a token portion of it -- but no more. In the case of Fischfootur, his hoard had been so small -- and relatively valueless, in traditional Dragon terms -- that the issue effectively did not exist. It was like a soldier taking a prisoner's purse on a battlefield. Any accusation of injustice would have been more than countered by the fact that Fischfootur had made unconditonal surrender. Despite this, Luna had earned the Lava Drake's gratitude by forbearing from taking it from him. But, in the case of the Lightning Drake, his hoard was good-sized, far above the value of anything the Dragons would consider rightful trophy to the victor. If she took all the treasure, this would be seen as theft by the Dragons; aggravated theft, if she also slew the Lightning Drake who had earned it. As indeed her actions would be, in Dragonlaw. Plundering the Lightning Drake's hoard, seizing it all as spoils of war, simply because of his intransigent hostility: that would be a tempting course of action -- and the most obvious mistake possible for a greedy Pony Princess. Luna would do no such thing, and it was unlikely that whatever puppetmaster stood behind this incursion imagined she would, if he knew anything of her history. The law -- even Dragonlaw -- was different if the Lightning Drake had brought his hoard as a supply of war. Any and all such supplies might rightfully be confiscated by the victor in battle. In that case, Luna could take it all. Therein lay the trap. For the Lightning Drake had, in fact, done nothing to suggest that he had used, or meant to use, his hoard in such a manner. Luna was sure that if she plundered his hoard, her hidden enemy stood ready to argue among the Dragons that the Ponies were greedy for Dragonhoards, which would help him rouse them against Equestria. Thus far, anypony knowledgable in Dragon traditions might have easily reasoned. But there was another trap. If she behaved in accordance with Dragonlaw, and only Dragonlaw, she would be tacitly admitting that she considered Dragonlaw superior to Equestrian law -- on Equestrian soil. This would be an extraordinarily dangerous precedent, and could work to the future disadvantage of the Realm, in dealing both with Dragons and with other foreign cultures. This the more so because she was a Diarch, a Ruling Princess. When she spoke, she spoke with the voice of the Realm. This meant that, whatever she did, she must do in such wise as to be justifiable in terms both of Dragon and of Equestrian law. She thought she had the solution, but she must first test it. "I might in all right declare this all to be spoils of the Crown," Luna said, "but in my mercy and the light of our honor, I shall return it all to thee, unspoilt save for trophy in token of my triumph, giving it back into thy keeping upon thy parole as honorable prisoner of mine own claw." There. She had extended the opportunity to the Lightning Drake for surrender on favorable conditions. "Dost thou accept my terms?" The Dragon rumbled. Stray sparks -- mere ghosts, compared to his normal full might -- crackled over his head and horns. This display might rightly have frightened most Ponies, for he still had enough power to slay such; they were not enough to intimidate a war-wise Alicorn. She was in little danger from him, and they both knew it. "Thou wouldst think me ready to sell mine honor for mine own hoard?" snarled the Lightning Drake. "Dost thou take me for an honorless cur, like unto ... lie so many Ponies?" ANger flashed in Luna at that insult, but she choked it back. He had -- just -- avoided making the insult direct, and short of that, she would lose honor by abusing her prisoner. She was well aware that eyes and ears, quite possibly hostile far-off ones, might be observing this parley. She was also aware that, though she had won the battle, she had not yet secured the real victory. "Nay," replied Luna, coolly. "I think thee an intelligent wight, rather than some brute beast. I deem thee wise enow to know when thou'rt defeated in fair fight, and sufficient-canny to take a generous offer of short and honorable captivity -- for 'tis the best thou dost deserve, and are likely to get, as is most plain to us both." She paused, to let her words sink in. "Now -- dost thou surrender, on these fair terms? Or must I subdue they more full-well, and thou then awaken to find thyself in any case my captive, and under worse duress?" The Dragon grumbled, but Luna had logically-trapped him, and she knew that he knew it as well. Did he continue to reject her mercy, he would seem but churlish, and she would be more than justified in battering him to the point htat he could no longer carry out even token resistance. "I do yield," he said in a sour tone. "On the terms thou dist offer." "Then, I do accept thine honorable surrender," replied Luna, inwardly sighing in relief. She had little stomach for further-beating an almost-helpless foe. "And whom shall I have the honor of hosting?" This was important, for the surrender was not complete without his also yielding at least a Use-Name. The Dragon cast his gaze about the hole he was in, ut could clearly see no means of avoiding the inevitable. "I am hight Blue Blaze, egg of Astra Blaze, sired by Wellenflash." "I am Princess Luna Selena Nyx of Equestria, the foal of Mimic, of Paradise Estate," she replied. "Dost thou promise to obey all honorable terms of parole that thou acceptest, by thine eggshell?" The Dragon whiffed. He was clearly a bit dismayed that she knew that form. But it would be absurd for him to abort his surrender on that point. "I so swear," he affirmed. "By mine eggshell." "Then i also so swear. By mine own honor, and that of the womb that bore me. We are now host and hostage." The term "hostage," in this context, did not mean that she was threatening to kill him if he misbehaved. It meant that, in return for good conduct, she had just promised to treat him as a sort of honored captive; essentially a guest of the Night Court. He would not be harmed, unless he grossly violated the terms of his hosting. "Agreed," said the Dragon. He really had no other good choices. Luna relaxed. Blue Blaze's own hidebound pride, the same which made him so annoying a foe, would now ensure that he would abide by his word, unless she very much misread him. And she had dealt with Dragons like him for a very, very long time. Blue Blaze's surrender had been made far more formally than Fischfootur's. But Fischfootur had been a rambunctious, friendly youth, eager to prove himself against an admired rival champion, no true foe of Ponykind. Blue Blaze was an elder of his kind, whose motives were subtle and actions calculated: for all his gigantic roaring might, he was no brutal savage. His original plan had almost certainly been to sacrifice his life for some greater purpose, probably to provoke a war between Equestria and the Dragons. The trap of honor Luna closed on him must thus be flawless. It was, as far as she might divine. She, and her Ponies, were now safe. She could now bend her full attention to saving the life of her prisoner. In this, she was aided by the fact that a Dragon his size was very hard to kill. Even if she made mistakes, Blue Blaze was almost certain to survive. But it formed no part of her plan to cause him needless suffering. She meant to be an impeccable host. "Here be my design, Blue Blaze," she told him. "I shall -- slowly and carefully -- free thee from this rubble, then transport thee to a house I shall prepare for thy shelter and healing." Luna wasn't actually certain that the Realm had an appropriate house, for such a very large Dragon, but she could always convert a large warhouse or something of the sort, if needs be. "Also, I shall mine out and bring to thee thine Hoard, numbered and listed so that none of it be lost. We shall discuss my trophy at later leisure -- but it shall of a certain include the Equestrian citizen, Beatrix Lulamoon, hight Trixie, upon whom thou shalt then yield all claims. Is this agreeable?" "She is a thief, Blue Blaze complained. "Fair-taken!" "She be little more than a foal," chided Luna, "an innocent, scarce-kenning her own actions. Wouldst thou smash an egg?" "Perhaps," grumbled Blue Blaze, "were it as bothersome and naughty as Trixie. But -- I take thy point. I shall yield all claim on her. Does this bring thee satisfaction?" "Thou dost display a great heart." "Fair words," said Blue Blaze. "let us see if thou canst unearth me without pulling me apart, or burying me for ever." He almost sounded as if he hoped to be dismembered or interred alive. Blue Blazes was of course complaining, but Luna was glad of it. He had shifted from suicidal defiance to grousing, which was a good sign. It meant that he had accepted his defeat, and was now focusing on his future treatment as her captive. Luna meant to treat him very well indeeed. Both because she deemed it right, and because Blue Blaze was plainly an ardent partisan of their war faction, and by good treatment he might perhaps gain an improved opinion of Equestria. Blue Blaze was a foe, but he did not impress Luna as a foul one. He might well have slain Trixie, when she was at his mercy; he had instead kept her alive as her captive. He seemed not evil, but rather misguided -- though this did not by any means require that this was true of all Dragons of his political stripe. She was still unsure of their exact purpose. Perhaps she -- or her more cunning Sister -- might gain valuable information by peaceful future converse with their prisoner. This did not mean that she enjoyed his company, right now. Blue Blaze was understandably depressed, in physical pain and angry, and though it was beneath his dignity to show his discomfort directly, he could complain of all sorts of things -- especially the intelligence, morals, and other allegedly unpleasant habits of Ponykind, to his captor. Which he did. At length. He's not here for my entertainment, she reminded herself. Which was as well, because he wasn't very entertaining. Luna listened to his litany of equine disparagement, paying just enough attention to it to sift out any useful intelligence, while wishing for better company. Pumpernickel, she thought wistfully. Adamant. Ruby -- oh, no, she remembered, that sweet filly's o'er a thousand years dead. The same for all my Loyal Band, and my Shadowbolts, and all mine own boon companies. By now all nine or more centuries in their graves. All gone, lost to me for ever. Some never even knew how much I did care for them. For a moment she felt very lone, and lorn, and briefly toyed with the idea of slaying Blue Blaze out of pique. But no. T'is nae my purpose, and he's not really evil, -- and along that path lies the Nightmare. I must henceforth hew to my decency -- and duty to the Realm. She firmed her resolve to behave well. She really couldn't bring herself to hate Blue Blaze that much, anyway. So she listened to his compaints, and made the occasional sympathetic or complaining noise in response, while she continued digging out his head. "Canst thou breathe now?" she asked him, after she cleared away most of the front of his upper neck. "You severed my spine!" snarled Blue Blazes. "That will take long to mend!" "Aye," said Luna, "but we both know thou hast independent ganglionic centers in thy torso, to handle autonomic functons in just such a pass. Come now! I am no callow young Pony warrior, ignorant of Draconic anatomy. I've fought many of ye, over the long centuries, aye, and helped heal many as well." "'Tis ... a bit improv-ed," Blue Blaze allowed. "Yes. I breathe better; my biochemistry works more smoothly, I need not draw so much on radiothermal power sources." He seemed to be gathering his resolve for something. "Thou dost ease my condition somewhat, Princess Luna. Thankee." "Ma'am!" came a stallion's shout, from just outside the cave mouth. "Sharpeyes, reporting on the search for the missing detachment!" Luna stopped tossing spoil out the entrance. Wise of him, not to directly mention Summer Lightning and Trixie Lulammon by name. "Prithee pardon," she said to Blue Blaze. "Administrative business calls. I shall soon return." She darted to the door. The athletic, large-headed Night Guard specialist saluted her, anxiety evident in his big eyes. In Night Guard uniform he was of course gray-coated and purple-maned, like the Nocturnae, but he was only Pseudo Nocturnae, and she remembered he had a lovely sky-blue coat, blue eyes and blonde mane in mufti. Almost a shame to make him look like everypony else, Luna reflected. She led them a couple hundred feet away from the cave mouth. "Report," she ordered. "Yes, Ma'am," replied Sharpeyes. "We've found Summer Lightning. She was stumbling around at a cave mouth halfway down the mountain. Starsoar and I went to her aid. She was dazed, from a close-range stun-spell. Starsoar remained to tend her." Luna thought on this a moment. "And Trixie Lulamoon?" she asked. "There was no sign of her, ma'am. Lt. Lightning wasn't sure, but she thought that Miss Lulamoon might have been the one who stunned her." Idiot, Luna thought, wincing. She wasn't sure if she meant herself, Summer Lightning, or Trixie Lulamoon. Or, possibly, the whole stupid situation. "Take me to her," she ordered. They dived down the side of the mountain.