Boredom. There was no other way to describe what Rainbow Dash was feeling. She paced restlessly across the bridge of her cruiser, a hurricane within a storm as the personnel maintained a steady stream of updates. All they did was fill the air with noise. Rainbow could easily access the reports through her augments before the words could leave a person’s mouth. The crew knew this as well as she did. The birth of augmentation had made all of the meat’s flaws so obvious. On the other hand, the crew was simply obeying orders.
Rainbow stopped and looked at the city below. She had never been to New York, not even before her life-altering surgeries. Part of her had wanted to see the city, but the other half realized that she would be lost in the human tide. She had never wanted to lose that sense of importance bestowed upon her during childhood, so she stayed away from the city’s lurching maw. Calling upon her optical modifications, she pierced the flesh of the monster that had kept her away and focused on individual faces.
Boring. Bland. Aimless. Clueless. Rainbow could have laughed at her childhood fears, but one factor stopped her. No one was smiling. That thought wormed past the noise on the bridge and embraced Rainbow. She suppressed a shiver. Pinkie would have made all of them smile.
Rainbow shook her head and backed away from the view. She wasn’t going to be mired in regret, especially in front of her troops. For them, Rainbow would be strong. She would take the sadness and close her heart, pry the apathy away and throw it off a cliff. She was going to fulfill her orders to the letter and help create the world that Pinkie had wanted, and she could only do that by serving Celestia. The price was steep, but she owed her deceased friend that much.
Fearing too much introspection, Rainbow made her way to the holographic map in the center of the bridge. A miniature model of the city displayed the current troop locations, each soldier outlined by gold. Rainbow wished she was down there with them, throwing all caution to the wind and getting a good run in. She wore the tight Hunter suit beneath her uniform, but that was as close as she could get on the ship. With a heavy sigh, she held up a hand, her fingertips blazing, and flipped through the various filters on the map. When she found the Hunters on the ground, she stopped and watched. Judging by their rapid movements, they had found a fugitive. Rainbow leaned towards the display and found herself grinning.
The arrival and disappearance of a certain Sergeant Cloud Chaser should have left Vinyl feeling better. Octavia had avoided the soldier that had been actively searching for her. The fact that Cloud Chaser was a Hunter, someone who received augments specialized in reconnaissance and tracking, should have bolstered Vinyl’s confidence. Surely the military lacked the time and manpower to go through the entire city a second time. Even if there was another sweep, surely Octavia could hide in the meat locker and evade capture again. Despite all this, Vinyl had fallen victim to the sense of dread that had come with the hovering armada. She couldn’t look anywhere without being reminded of the brightly painted, blocky hulls that lingered above. To make matters worse, armed soldiers patrolled the streets, fingers resting lightly on their triggers.
Vinyl shuffled with the rest of the people on the sidewalk, her eyes glued to the concrete. Maybe if she made herself small no one would pick her out. Whenever she walked past the soldiers in their resplendent armor, she felt her heart beating against her ribs as if it wanted to jump out. Vinyl shook her head and told herself that she was being stupid. There was no way a random grunt could tell that she had Octavia at home. But what if they did? Before her mind could go down the long path of “what ifs,” Vinyl lowered her goggles and quickly opened her extensive music library. She needed to pump her head full of something upbeat, something loud. When she couldn’t decide, Vinyl hit the shuffle button and told herself to listen to the first song that came on. She listened to two seconds before deciding that she didn’t want to listen to that song and pressed “skip,” only to repeat the process for ten more songs. Damn it, why does all of my music suck? Vinyl wondered. Slowly becoming annoyed, Vinyl decided to settle on an album entitled “Balloon Party” and let it play.
Vinyl felt like someone had flipped a switch within her brain, turning her from a nervous wreck into a normal human being. The giant knots of stress melted as the loud music pulsed throughout her system. Nodding her head in rhythm, Vinyl stood up straighter and even managed a smile. Reclamation? Octavia? What was that? Who was that? To Vinyl, walking down the street with a head full of music was just like the good old days. She missed working in the CyberLink, getting paid for what she would have done for free. Her eyes glazed over under the goggles and Vinyl ran into someone who was standing still.Muttering an apology, Vinyl shoved past them but saw that no one was moving. Confused, she turned her music off and suddenly heard screaming.
Thunderlane was scared. No, scratch that, he was petrified. Over the course of his life, Thunderlane had acquired the nasty habit of procrastination. So he had a couple of tests coming up? He could just do his studying the night before. A date with the girl of his dreams? Who needs to shower when you can slap some deodorant on before walking out the door? Thunderlane had made some mistakes, sure, but he knew that none of his shortcomings were the end of the world.
So the Reclamation was announced? He had laughed it off from the comfort of the couch with a beer in one hand and a sloppy swipe of the other to find some sports. He knew that his brother, Rumble, was still a “pure” human, but he could just take the kid to a shop later and have him wired up. He would do it tomorrow. But he had put that off, positive that he had plenty of time. Now, with Solar Empire troops in the building, Thunderlane was forced to face the cold truth: he had burned through all of his tomorrows and Rumble was still human.
Desperation had fuelled Thunderlane’s actions. In a rush, Thunderlane had grabbed his brother, who had been eating breakfast, and dragged him out of their apartment.
“But I wasn’t done eating!” Rumble protested, trying to get back to his half-eaten bowl of cereal.
“So what? You can eat later, we gotta do this now!” Thunderlane said while he fumbled for his key.
“Where are we going?” Rumble whined.
“Frankie’s. He’ll give you somethin’ good. Maybe you’ll become a superhero. Doesn’t that sound cool?” Thunderlane provided, finally locking the door and grabbing his brother’s hand.
“But I don’t want them! They make you all glowy and weird!”
Thunderlane shook his head. He had heard this all before, about how Rumble got scared because his brother was basically staring off into space in a near-comatose state. Whenever he tried to explain that nothing was wrong, Rumble would run to his room and cry. He opened his mouth to argue when the elevator opened with a cheerful ding. All of the words he was going to say died in his throat. Four Hunters stood before them.
Flitter looked at the two people before her with a hungry smile. One was augmented, wearing clothes that hadn’t been washed in weeks, and making an expression that made her wonder if shit would be trickling down his legs. The other was hardly better off, his expression a mix between fright and awe. Flitter didn’t have to use her augments to know that the young boy was pure. She took one, loud stomp forward, taking pleasure in seeing them both wince at the sound. Trying to lower her nasally voice to a growl, Flitter said, “Run, little boys. Run.”
The two took off for the other end of the hall before she finished speaking. Flitter held up an armored hand to the three Hunters behind her. She watched her prey disappear around the corner, undoubtedly going to the stairwell. When they heard the door fly open, Flitter instinctively used her augments to raise her suit’s helmet. The face shield hadn’t even closed before the four Hunters were bursting through into the stairs.
Thunderlane didn’t know why he was ascending rather than descending. In his fear-ridden mind, he thought it sounded like a good idea. The higher they went; the possibility of escape went up. It was flawless logic. Of course, he had no time to relate that to Rumble, who was now caught in Thunderlane’s white knuckle grip.
The stairwell was becoming repetitive. Despite how much he was panicking, Thunderlane’s mind was racing. He thought of the many movies he had seen where the Solar Empire were the good guys. Then his mind slipped to the fight scenes, particularly one where a Hunter tore into a changeling’s chitinous armor with their arm-mounted machine guns. It had looked good when he had a giant tub of popcorn, but now he was being chased by four Hunters! Just keep going, Thunderlane told himself. Just keep going, oh Celestia, why are you doing this? Why, why, why?
Flitter and her Hunters coasted behind, always keeping Thunderlane and Rumble in sight. They were close enough to remind their prey that they were there, but far enough away to make them think they had a chance. “That guy would’ve made a terrible soldier,” one of the Hunters remarked, causing the other three to laugh.
One of the others had turned on her helmet’s external speakers. Her laughter floated up to Thunderlane, causing him to redouble his efforts and renewing their own merriment. Flitter knew that she shouldn’t have let the others act that way. She should have told them to be quiet and do this by the book. She really should have.
However, the Reclamation had felt like a giant chore that had no end in sight. Flitter had set out and finished her assignments by the book, until the days and the faces became one giant blur. The whole business was depressing. So she wished a little fun onto her men, and if that involved joking around, where was the harm in that? There was none.
Above, they saw Thunderlane and Rumble fly out of a door. When the Hunters reached it, Flitter pointed to the large letters on the door and read out loud, “Roof access.” The others laughed.
Thunderlane paced back and forth. Rumble had gone silent. They were on the roof with no way down. The Hunters would come out any moment and take his brother away. Where would they take Rumble? What would they do to him? He had ran away from them. There was going to be some sort of punishment. Maybe an execution? There wouldn’t be that many witnesses. His eyes fell to the ledge. They were trapped. The door opened. He knew what he had to do. They weren’t going to get his brother.
Flitter walked out to see the end result of a trapped and panicked man’s plans to get away. Still smiling under her faceplate, she ran to the edge of the building and looked over. Thunderlane and Rumble were falling towards the sidewalk. People were already giving the impending crash site a wide berth while they stared in fascination. Flitter sighed and threw herself off as well. The rockets on the underside of her boots gave her the extra speed she needed.
She put her hand on Thunderlane’s shirt, making him turn around in shock. If he could see her face, he would have seen her smug smile. With a jerk, she threw him away from Rumble. He twisted in the air, still screaming, reaching for his brother who was now yelling for a different purpose. Flitter held the youth tight against her chest and forced her feet below her. The rockets killed their momentum, allowing for a safe descent. Thunderlane, on the other hand, fell with the knowledge that he had let his brother down.
When her feet were firmly on the ground, Flitter put Rumble under one arm and carried him through the crowd. He tried to fight back and was calling out Thunderlane’s name. She didn’t have to tighten her grip, Rumble would never break free. No one in the crowd tried to stop her. Most of them were too busy looking at the ruined body she had left behind or running in terror. Flitter idly noted a young woman with blue hair standing in a doorframe, watching her behind tinted goggles.
The screaming hadn’t stopped when the man hit the ground and the Hunter walked away with her prize. Vinyl had edged out of the crowd to avoid the people running around like maniacs. Whether someone was pushing towards the scene or away, she didn’t want to be trampled. Some of the troops had arrived to restore order. When they walked past Vinyl’s hiding spot, she could hear that their voices lacked conviction. One of them stopped right in front of her and sat down on the step below. He took off his helmet and lit a cigarette, distant eyes following the chaos before him.
Vinyl shook her head. The weight of what she had just witnessed was going to kick in soon. In the Empress’ name, she had just seen a Hunter assist in a suicide! She resisted the urge to ask the soldier for a cigarette. No, no need for that. She activated her music again, but she could still see the people running. There was no rhythm to their movements, it was all just panic, and Vinyl could feel it eating into her.
Fuck, she thought. Everything was being swallowed up in the rising flood. She needed a rock. In her despair, she sat down and thought of Octavia.