//------------------------------// // 40. Vengeance // Story: Millennia: Eye of the Storm // by Thunderblast //------------------------------// Shadow's escort rolled up to the front of the pristine and seemingly endlessly-tall skyscraper. Upon exiting his carriage alongside a well respected Air Force lieutenant, the greenish-grey stallion gazed up the side of the tower that glimmered spectacularly beneath the mid-summer sun, flawlessly reflecting its blinding light and the surrounding cloud-dotted sky like a mirror. A second carriage behind theirs came to a halt some ten feet behind, doors opening to allow out two more high-ranking members of the Army and Marines. Together, the four ponies would report individually to their respective branches on whatever it was they were requested here for. Neither of them had any sort of clue, other than it was a major project classified to all but those working on it. Just beyond the building's sliding glass doors stood a finely-dressed businesspony with a warm, welcoming smile, accompanied by a small earth pony mare tapping away at a tablet in her hoof, whom only glanced up when the four serviceponies entered. "Good afternoon! Welcome to GenTech," the maroon unicorn greeted, strolling nonchalantly to meet them. He firmly shook hooves with each pony before stopping at the Air Force lieutenant, looking puzzled by him. "New face, huh? Where is Commander Storm Strider?" The sky-blue pegasus seemed mildly caught off-guard by the query, adjusting his square-framed glasses by pushing them back on his nose. "I regret to inform you on such short notice that, after last week's incident at the U.W.C, Commander Strider has chosen to avoid Manehattan for some time. As such, I will be reporting to him for today, Mr. Mace." Armet gave a single nod of understanding. "Yes, it seems most would prefer to stay home since then. That is understandable." He then shifted his secretary, politely asking, "Will you ready the transport for us, please?" With an acknowledging nod, the mare tapped a few times on her device's screen. "Transport is on its way, Mr. Mace!" she addressed with a smile. "Thank you," he tipped his chin thankfully, then turning back to the four. "Gentleponies, if you would follow me, we have a train to catch." At that, Armet spun around, leading the four through the highly modern lobby, past a holographic projector displaying a spinning model of the company logo and a lounge area to the elevators. The one chosen was larger than most, more on the lines of a cargo elevator, yet not nearly as filthy as one and neglected to lack the sophistication of the other ones in the building, finished with a stainless steel interior and two small screens on opposite sides of the door above four buttons neatly arranged in a square. Once all slipped comfortably inside with plenty of room to spare between ponies, Armet pressed the lower left button. It chimed, prompting the doors to close, and thus began the journey downward. The short trip into the underground went on silently; so quiet that a pin dropping would be comparable to a gunshot, only interrupted by a low hum outside the little compartment that proved highly dissimilar to the common elevator. "For those of you who might not be aware, we have completely redesigned the elevators of GenTech Tower so that they aren't raised or lowered by conventional cables. No, from top to bottom of the shafts sit panels that magnetically attract either the top or bottom of the car. Depending on which way you are going, one has more force over the other to lift the elevator, but there is just enough equilibrium to stop it from flying up or down too fast," explained Armet in a break of the silence, motioning his hooves. Of the four visitors, only the Air Force pony actually seemed impressed. His Army counterpart merely flicked a glance at Armet in a show of acknowledgement, while Shadow and the sole Marine officer stood statue-like in stance and apathetic to his explanation. In that respect, the wine-coated stallion passed their silence off when the elevator reached the bottom with the gentlest of thumps. The doors slid open with a second electronic chime signalling their arrival to that floor, which led straight into a tube-like tunnel of sorts with a platform that aligned impeccably to a single rail propped on pillars above the bottom of the rounded burrow. Basic rectangular light fixtures hung from the curved concrete ceiling, illuminating tiny dust particles floating about the recently finished area. As compared to the rest of the building, it seemed as if they had entered a completely separate realm due to the unfinished nature of the room they now gathered in. To them, it was a subway station of sorts, though significantly smaller than the ones throughout the city, and not public. The tunnel did extend in the other direction, where a rapidly approaching roar emanated from. Light flooded the hole as the sleekly-designed tram looped around and effortlessly glided to a halt along the platform. Hissing echoed throughout the little station as the doors on both cars granted entry, and Armet led his assistant as well as those accompanying him on board. A female robotic voice sounded over the interior speakers, "Welcome aboard, Boss." "Where's the driver?" asked an abruptly-concerned Equestrian Army officer, glancing up and down the adjoining cars as he entered behind the unicorn, neither of which occupying cockpits of any sort. A smug, boasting grin crossed Armet's muzzle. "Doesn't need one. It is one-hundred percent automated, operable by the request of a simple tap on any device connected to the GenTech mainframe," he said, raising his volume only when the doors securely closed. Everypony gently took hold of their own handle hanging from the ceiling moments before the monorail lightly lurched forward and began to pick up speed, and all light outside of the cars vanished behind them as they sped beneath the bustling city. On a monitor along a wall panel near the front displayed a miniature map, showing their current location relative to their destination at the end of the line, transitioning over to a similar picture that included the geographical shape of the land and water nearby. It raised suspicion in Shadow's head, noting of the peculiar stop which was situated out at sea. "Just where does this monorail lead?" he questioned. "Approximately two and a half miles east of the city. At this point we are traveling beneath Manehattan Bay where the water is still shallow enough to allot a facility at the ocean floor," answered Armet, observing the centered map consistently change in position. The naval captain flicked an ear, pondering some more. He wanted as much information out of the unicorn entrepreneur as possible before they arrived. "How long has it been out here for?" Armet whistled, shrugging his shoulders. "Years before I even considered building here. Constructed the monorail shortly after we achieved the rights to the facility for easy transport. There's a separate one that leads to the port that brings in resources." "So why did you acquire it?" Shadow asked out of blatant curiosity. The maroon unicorn sported a toothy grin directed back equally at his guests, shifting his attention to the left side windows. He proceeded to say tersely, "You shall soon see." Within a mere thirty seconds of his remark, the monorail exited the lengthy tunnel into an enormous hangar bay; large enough that, despite the speed of the train, seemed as though they weren't moving at all. Soon, the gazes of four military stallions followed Armet's, and each were met with their own shock and awe at the astonishing sight before their very eyes. Held perhaps fifty to one hundred feet above the facility floor by six giant steel clamps, similar to those used for some airships when they dock, sat a gargantuan example of technological advancement, sleek in design and taking the overall form of an arrow head with thin wings spanning from front to rear along either sides. The nose of the arrow-shaped cruiser sloped upward, cutting off at a flat portion where a bay of sorts sat wide open, continuing the aerodynamic manner of its design some three-hundred feet behind the beginning of the plain. At the very top of the ship sat the bridge—a circular shield of angled window panes complimenting the cruiser's shape, stretching a full one-hundred and eighty degrees to provide a crystal clear view surrounding it, finished with a small shark-like vertical fin with an array of antennas and radar domes. The monorail soon came to a steady halt at a platform suspended above the floor, connected to a long walking bridge that stretched from virtually the far south face of the underwater facility up to the craft itself with multiple staircases leading up to two individual access hatches, while other ramps and stairs led downward to the bustling floor, where hundreds buzzed around. Sparks flew from a couple of points on the side of the ship as unicorn and earth pony workers welded, while pegasi worked in pairs to haul heavy panels and crates to and fro across the massive base. "Twin hypernuclear fission reactor engines, capable of sustaining continuous suborbital flight. Three individual landing strips with adjacent hangars to store four to six small fighters per, plus one more for heavy cargo aircraft in resupplies," explained Armet, leading the four, plus his assistant at his side, nonchalantly toward the ship after disembarking the monorail, which had pulled off and vanished into another tunnel at the opposite end of the hangar. "Is this the carrier you promised? The one you mentioned some time back?" Shadow remarked, maintaining a solid focus on nothing but the gigantic, strange-looking craft. "This? No, of course not—I would have teamed up with ship builders, the best of the best, to design a new breed of aircraft carriers," Armet then chuckled softly, stopping and turning around to face them, gesturing his hoof up at the cruiser. "This, gentlecolts, is Vengeance." The Army major glanced up, honing in on the side, where the name had been proudly engraved into the paneling. "That is what you named it?" he said. "First and foremost. Long before production officially commenced nine months ago," replied Armet, continuing toward the staircase at the end of the walkway. The name struck Shadow as peculiar, and in his mind he began to question the need for such a name. He recognized aircraft and seafaring vessels in the past to be named for particular reasons, though most of the time it is left to the public to decide on a perfect title. Of course, it brought him full circle back to the Lunar Fleet; none of the presently active ships held purposeful names. "Nine months? Surely that cannot be accurate, it took eight years alone to build just the Eclipse, and it is maybe a sixth of the size!" said Shadow, disregarding his prior, brief state of muse. Even he was moderately impressed. "Nine months to the day last week, Captain," Armet nodded. "With the help of pony power and automation combined, we cut the time quite nearly down from a whole decade's worth of work. Our machines produce the pieces necessary, then we bring in some of the strongest pegasi and earth ponies to set them in place while our unicorns finish the job. Works quite well, actually. Perhaps other shipbuilding companies could learn a thing or two from this place," he snickered softly. A scoff came from the Army major. "Yeah, perhaps. Put a lot of hard-working ponies out of jobs, ruin the economy, let countries east and west observe the total downfall of pony ingenuity," he commented. Armet glanced over his shoulder, offering a lukewarm smile that was half-genuine. "Oh, I not once said fully automated. Simply the integration of robotics and programmed machinery to speed up the process. Faster production equals increased profits, expansion, etcetera. Of course, I cannot speak for other companies, though it is part of my job as the CEO of GenTech to create an image of the future and to meet the technological needs of ponies throughout the country, and across the world." The group climbed three flights of stairs to one of the port-side hatches, entering through a corridor no wider than that of a regular ship's walkway. The walls lined of pipes and wiring, some of which transparent that let the respective blue and green light of the energy flowing through the craft's blood vessels brighten each corridor naturally. "You say this ship is nuclear powered. What's glowing, then?" queried the Air Force lieutenant, curiously examining the luminescent wiring as he walked along. The smile on Armet's muzzle grew with each question asked and once more began boastfully elaborating. "What you see is electricity in its purest form, powering every square inch of the Vengeance and, as soon as they are fully installed by the end of this week, its thirty-six individual weapons arrays." "Weapons arrays?" Shadow furrowed an eyebrow. "Long-range precision cannons and anti-aircraft, predominantly," Armet answered. "With the help of satellite targeting, there is no longer a need for visual contact in order to fire upon an enemy. If the fire controlponies cannot make out their target, the boys upstairs sure as hell can." "I must say, all of this is... quite impressive so far. I just have one question that, I believe I can vouch for all four of us when I ask it; who is going to be controlling this thing?" Armet came to a halt at the intersection of another passageway and turned around as the others stopped. He blinked a couple of times before saying, "Well, I would hope one of you might call the shots. It would be under Equestria's complete control on behalf of whoever wants it." The officer representing the Lunar Marines narrowed his eyes slightly. "What would any of us need a flying warship for?" he gruffly remarked. "In the event of war, Lieutenant General. It is to my understanding that there is no true threat posed to Equestrian soil, but the risk continues to lie out in the open. After the fiasco with Ajerstan, we don't know what their next move might be. They might tack the blame on us!" Armet drew in a soft breath to calm himself. "Gentlecolts, I do not credit myself as any sort of warfare expert, but I simply stress that our country needs to step up its game against external threats." "You have valid reasoning to be concerned, Armet, and I respect that. We have gone over this a couple of times before. However, if you want my own personal opinion, having this in the skies will do nothing but brew conflict and welcome it to our coasts. Power such as this will invite challenge which breeds utter catastrophe," Shadow asserted, stepping forward. "This is fear-mongering. This is... showing the world that we're afraid, and this will let anyone out there seek faults in the system so they can carry out heinous intentions against innocents." Eyes shifted to the naval captain, nodding in silent agreement to his notions as he carried on. "As much as I am in support of advancement in military technology, and how much I appreciate what you and your company are doing to take a leap in the right direction, I cannot stand behind the idea of this launching one day and children all around the world looking up in the sky and watching this thing cast a threatening shadow over their homes to where they live in fear of becoming a friendly fire statistic or are given the idea that so much as coughing or sneezing could lead to their death." The hall fell completely silent, apart from muffled thumps and other commotion outside of the massive ship. In that moment, Shadow and Armet engaged in unwavering stares against one another. None were cold, as Shadow expressed concern more than any other emotion on his mien, with Armet returning a look of slight disappointment mixed with acknowledgement of the naval officer's stern and solid perturb. "I'm afraid I must agree with Captain Shadow for right now," chimed the Army major, followed by a single nod of his Marine counterpart. There was a small silence as gazes turned to the slightly scrawny Air Force lieutenant, eager to hear his word. He briefly studied the ponies around him before giving his response. "I, for one, am in favor of this craft," spoke Wind Rider, holding a hoof to his chest. "Knowing Commander Strider well enough, I believe I speak on behalf of him, as well." Shadow's brow raised toward the lieutenant, mentally questioning the somewhat younger pegasus' mindset. Before the words could muster, he was ultimately cut off by Armet. "Well, your thoughts are most certainly taken into consideration, gentlecolts. I still wish to change your minds as we move along. Now, shall we continue the tour?" *** Pain. That describes all that could be felt in the first moments of consciousness. Like my time in boot camp, every muscle in my body ached, as if the entire day prior was spent exercising and nothing else. It hurt to merely move a limb. Hell, the throbbing of my heart caused pain on the surrounding skin, too. Quiet grunts emerged as I eased myself upright after turning sideways. My wings sat partially extended with their feathers ruffled and in desperate need of a thorough preening, though that was far from my top priority at the moment. While one minute was spent adjusting to the soreness, the next shifted the focus to one question in particular; where the hell was I? Upon first inspection, my initial guess told me it was a stockroom for manufacturing materials judging by all of the crates and overly-taped boxes sitting around the edges and on rusty shelves—some of which having already given way from deteriorating condition and the constant weight gradually pushing them to the breaking point. Seeing this racked a single conclusion to mind; abandoned. Probably should have seen that one coming. I checked around, especially my hooves, for anything to hold me back and prevent escape. Much to my surprise, not even a strand of rope or shackles were attached to any part of me. This meant a couple of different possibilities; either this was all just a huge joke and my captors are hired guns by some of my friends and it just went a little too far, or somepony was too incompetent and forgot to restrain me. As the seconds ticked on by, the former quickly became less plausible in my head. Either way, I wasn't complaining—I could escape! As quietly as possible, that is. Sliding off the old table, setting my hinds down first, one at a time to ensure little noise produced, followed by my forehooves. I didn't quite realize initially, but my zip-up I had on was missing. And my phone. Of course, it makes sense to get rid of the victim's phone so it can't be tracked one way or another. I made sure to scope out my surroundings a second time before advancing out into the eerie, dusty, and poorly-lit corridor. If my captors were still here, I wouldn't take any chances nonchalantly strolling about this place and getting myself trapped... again. The place was hot, even underground where I appeared to be judging by the all-cement construction. Of course, it was the middle of summer when the heat typically peaked out for the year. To my relief, it told me that I wouldn't freeze to death in minutes if I had to make a run from wherever I was. Though, I suppose succumbing to the elements would suit better than letting myself be tortured or executed on camera. At the far end of the hall on my right was a stairwell shaft stretching one and a half, perhaps two stories up to what I assumed was the ground floor. I moved beneath the stairs to hide in the shadows and listen in for any activity above, where I stayed for a whole minute. I would do it again to double check when I got to the top, though all seemed clear so far. With a silent, cautious step, I steadily climbed the stairs, halting a couple of times for a split second when a sound I didn't recognize as my own caught my attention. At the top of the stairs, I moved beside the walkway leading into a much larger room and propped myself against the wall, listening once more for another soul beyond that exit. Letting off a low exhale to ready myself beforehand, I peeked around the corner. First thing I noted of was a couple more neatly-stacked sealed wooden crates and three sets of what appeared to be train tracks in rough condition, telling me more about the building. Despite sunlight flooding in from above, a high roof covered the large room. Carefully, I continued out of the stairwell. Chains hanging from the rafters creepily clinked, swaying in an upper-level breeze streaming near the ceiling. Plant life had begun to spring up through cracks in the foundation, and dust collected along the fractured concrete and old, rusting railway tracks from years of neglect. A pair of sliding warehouse doors to let trains out of the complex sat with a couple of inches to spare above the rails, bound together by heavy chains and an industrial lock potentially only breakable through the use of construction pliers. The skylights were mostly broken or badly scuffed with a reddish-brown dirt. Rays of sunlight flooding in illuminated squared and rectangular tiles along the center of the old facility, shining atop a couple of old freight carriages. The light itself also revealed just how dusty the place was, as the concentrated beams themselves stretching to the ceiling were foggy in nature, and even from afar, I could easily discern a thick collection of particles floating about. From a distance, after looking back at the sliding doors, even then I could tell that they hadn't been tampered with in some time—likely to give the false appearance that no one has been here and convince anyone who just so happens to be searching the area, wherever this place was located, that I wasn't here. Without a key or chain pliers, there was no way that would be my way out, nor the staff door beside it. Looking back up towards the ceiling, I studied the overall integrity of the skylights and contemplated an exit. Only then did I curse mentally and glance over my shoulder to set upon my folded up wings, staring questionably at them. Now might not have been the prime moment to make an attempt at flying out of here, although it appeared to be my only option in that instance as any floor exit was likely locked or possibly guarded by enemies. Strangely enough, I had yet to spot any hostiles since waking. That came off as highly peculiar. Making up my mind after no more than a few seconds of calculated musing, I drew a deep breath into my lungs and slid my left hind leg backwards as I shifted into a new stance. Spreading out my wings to full length, I swiveled and moved them around to loosen their muscles. All this time of no use added to the achiness spanning across my form leads to risk of a cramp, which could prove deadly in flight. No use in escaping if I wind up killing myself in the process. I honed my steady sights onto one of the broken skylights above, one with plenty of room to fly out through should my takeoff be unstable. When the moment came, I leaped upwards, aided by a single flap of my wings that kicked up a cloud of dirt. I felt myself climbing quickly and saw freedom closer than ever, but it wasn't more than a second when I realized I had failed and tumbled from the roughly ten feet in the air I reached, coming crashing down on my face and chest with my hinds and rear stuck in mid-air. The impact forced every bit of air out and muffled my hearing to where only my own ailing grunts could be heard. Slowly, the rest of my body fell over with a thump on the lukewarm cement and I lay essentially motionless there, dazed from the crash landing and even more sore than prior. I couldn't be sure just how long I stayed down. Time slowly passed as I tried to regain partial control over my senses and make a feeble attempt to get back on my hooves. Every muscle in my body burned with the painful rage of fifteen fires, especially in my arms and hooves when I rolled myself upright and began shakily lifting off the dusty concrete. First my forehooves, followed by my hinds, I finally stood. Wobbly and shaken, but stable enough to not collapse. A chill ran up my spine, causing a shiver that quaked the dirt off my coat and ruffled my feathers. I sighed softly, looking back at my wings, then up at the skylight once more. Frankly, the courage to try again simply wasn't with me. I couldn't fly, I knew that already. So why did I try to? Click. "Not a step forward, not a step back." I froze, a shocked breath escaping my maw. My eyes went wide as saucers. Slowly and steadily, I peeked back over my shoulder, only to find the barrel of a handgun aimed for my forehead, wielded by a bandana-wearing earth pony donning a heavy vest, probably ballistic, with a sheathed knife on his right hoof. "Now, just what were you trying to do, fly out of here without saying goodbye?" *** Soft grunts of effort emanated from the moss-green stallion at each gentle lift he gave of the sixty-pound weights suspended carefully by just his two forehooves. He counted each push mentally and was already nearing the two-hundred mark, with a goal to reach five hundred by his session's end. It was well past his usually-set time to sleep—three hours, to be precise. But after accidentally motivating himself through countless instructional videos on his personal laptop, and relieved to know tomorrow was the start of his weekend, Ashfall felt he had no choice but to further work on building up his strength and endurance. He was determined to set a new record for himself, whether or not he would achieve that goal tonight. However, the night wasn't willing to let that happen. When a loud, borderline banging knock startled him, Ash threw the weights onto the bar rack above his head and sat upright. Sweat drenched his dark blue undershirt, leaving a damp mark running down his chest from his neck. He reached over to his nightstand, tapping the pause button on his music player, silencing it as he snatched up a small cloth and wiped down his face with a few dabs of the cold, wet towel, before strolling to the door and peeking through the little hole to see who was outside. He lurched back when the greyish-white pegasus on the other side slammed his hoof three more times in a desperate attempt to grab his attention, unaware that he had already snatched it. Ash took the lock in his hoof and twisted it, then pulled the door inward. "Spare the door, will you?" he rolled his eyes. "What is it?" "They—they... they took Star!" panted Anchorage, his form quaking all across. "Whoa, whoa, slow down," Ash motioned his hoof. "Come inside." As soon as the words left his mouth, Anchorage hurried in past the Marine. Ash closed the door behind them, locking it, studying the pegasus briefly and noting of the severe distress he was in. He picked up his water bottle from the side of his workout bench and offered it to his sailor comrade, who after a split second of silence, snatched it from his hoof and guzzled half of its icy, refreshing contents in seconds while Ash observed, a look of concern plastered across his countenance. "What happened to Star?" Anchorage slapped the bottle down on the floor and drew in a deep gulp of air to account for the seconds spent not breathing while he drank. His chest heaved, still strictly catching his breath from the non-stop sprint. His icy blue eyes met the rose-shaded cores of Ash's, frightened unlike any look he has seen before. In his head, he knew in that instance just how serious the situation was. Fear rarely affected the pegasus sailor beyond the boundaries of his needle phobia, and seeing him act this way only made the moment more tense. "It's... all a blur, man. W-we found somepony in an alleyway on our way back from the pub, and... I turn around as he's callin' for help, and he gets s-struck down. I w-went to help, then I went down, too." At this point, the pegasus' bloodshot eyeballs glazed over with forming tears in his ducts. "I thought I heard them say something about how I wasn't important before I passed out, and when I woke up... he was gone!" Ash swiveled his ears backwards, dipping his head slightly. His tone became abruptly stern as his expression turned dour. "Did anypony come? Have you reported it yet?" Anchorage quickly shook his head. "No one came, they took his phone. For all I know, they might have told them it was a prank call and hung up!" "Anchorage—did you report it yourself?" A lump formed in the sailor's throat, blocking the words from emerging. Slowly, he bobbed his head in a nod and finally mustered the strength to speak with a low volume. "To military police. They... tested me for alcohol, and they disregarded it." He sighed sharply, closing his eyes. "I'm not drunk anymore, I must've slept it off, but there's still enough in my system for them to consider me under the influence!" "Okay, okay," Ash motioned his hoof for Anchorage to stop. "Take a deep breath." The pegasus stared crazy-eyed for a few moments. Finally, he followed his friend's words and straightened his still-shaky posture and sucked some air into his lungs, then exhaled deeply and wiped his eyes with a hoof. "I don't know what they'd want with him, Ash... he hasn't done anything wrong to my knowledge!" "I'm with you there." Ash nodded in concurrence, tapping his chin as he engaged in thought. "Hang on, you said you found somepony in an alley, and he tried calling for help?" Anchorage reopened his red, puffy eyes, nodding slowly. "Y-yes, and you won't believe this when I say it." "I'll try my best," Ash shrugged. "It was... the captain. The Alder captain. Remember him?" Ash's eyes shot wide open. "Do I? Yes. That was the night my platoon sergeant took a stretcher to the face and I thought I was gonna lose him." His ears pinned back, gaze lowering as he started to think again. "But... why? And how? That was months ago when the Alder sank and we saved him and his crew..." Ash stopped, looking up. "...and those griffons ambushed us." Anchorage recoiled his head. "But they weren't griffons that took Star." "Because maybe they weren't the bad guys that night. We were." "What... do you mean?" Anchorage cocked his head slightly. Ash waved his hoof around. "Maybe there was something on that ship that they were trying to destroy, maybe it was a threat to them, and we thwarted their plans. Maybe the crew wasn't who we thought they were." "So it was a setup." Anchorage stomped his hoof out of rage. "Damn it, it makes sense now!" "What does?" "A couple weeks ago, I stopped by a friend's office at the Port of Manehattan, had her do some research on the Alder's payload. She looked it up, I watched her, the Alder was recorded to have been scrapped eight years ago after an incident caused irreparable hull damage, but I know that was the ship we were on that night!" "So, it was running under the radar..." "Doin' dirty work..." "And those griffons were trying to stop it and take out the crew..." "And we helped them escape..." Anchorage finished, looking up. "Then someone leaves the captain to die to set up a trap for me and Star, and they take him. But why only him?" "I... don't know," Ash shook his head. It was all a lot to take in, and there were still pieces missing. "Oh, god, Ash..." Anchorage looked off to the side, putting a hoof on his forehead as anxiety for his kidnapped friend bubbled up in his chest. "What are we goin' to do?" Ash set a gentle hoof on the pegasus' shoulder. The gesture made him jump, only to then settle down when the two made steady eye contact, putting down his hoof from his forehead. The moss-green stallion wore an assertive look on his face, affirming to Anchorage, "If M.P. won't listen, we'll seek somepony who will. We'll hunt these bastards down with what we know, and we'll bring our friend home. Trust me." *** Soothing glows of alternating color filled the penthouse, basking the open room in golds, oranges, and even some blues. Droplets of rain trickled steadily down the floor-to-ceiling window panes, creating spots of grey that shadowed over the interior or refracted the city light to create a wondrous spectacle inside the three-story housing quarters. From his personal bar in the kitchen, the sole occupant of the penthouse suspended a green and gold-wrapped bottle mid-air, tipping it just enough to gently pour himself a glass of white wine, filling it half way, before capping off the bottle and placing it back in its rightful slot in the refrigerated rack above the counter and closing the sliding glass panel, in turn automatically switching off the light wall installed behind the wooden fixtures. Carrying the glass in a sparkling magical grip, the maroon unicorn strode composedly to the window overlooking lower Manehattan. A fog of rain caressed the buildings below, shrouding the infamous Trotterdam Tower, now no longer the tallest structure in the city for almost half a year since the GenTech building's topping-out. The skies above flashed electrically with bolts of lightning, stretching out like furious arms across the cloud ceiling, while some made contact with a couple of the antenna towers atop some of the city's numerous skyscrapers. A smile pursed the lips of the unicorn, showing clearly his true demeanor. He lifted his glass and took the smallest of swigs, followed by another, proceeding to then swirl the contents of his glass around gently afterwards. The small watch on his wrist lit up to the screen of an incoming call. He tapped the button to answer, holding his hoof up in front of him as a blue gridded holographic picture of a stallion's face sprung up from the little screen. "The job has been done, Boss. Just like you asked," said the deeply-toned pony. "You have Corporal Star Shooter?" "The blue one? Yes, sir. The distraction worked impeccably. He wasn't much trouble, either—drunk as a skunk, in fact." Armet let off a soft, dark chuckle. "Excellent. Great work. Let me know if you get anything out of him." "Yes, sir," the stallion nodded. He threw up a salute just moments before the hologram faded back into the watch. Setting his hoof down, Armet gazed back over the stormy city, blinking slowly. The sinister smile on his muzzle remained small, yet apparent. He brought the wine glass to his lips once more to savor the bitterness of his relaxing beverage, which only grew sweeter as a result of the news.