//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 - Masquerade of Manners // Story: Flurry in Time // by DuvetofReason //------------------------------// Flurry closed her eyes, letting the rhythmic pulses of the hot shower wash across her body. She took in a breath, the thick steam carrying the scent of apricots from her shampoo. The weariness and strain of a frantic escape was being gently massaged out of her muscles, the warmth seeping into her bones like the welcome embrace of a lover on a cold winter's day. This was her usual routine after a successful heist. But it was different this time. She would normally be wallowing in a pool of satisfaction right now, but instead, all she felt was anxiety clawing at her chest. It had been two hours since Nyx had contacted her. Two hours of silence. Flurry had hoped Nyx would send another message out, but not so much as a distress beacon had shown up on any frequency. It was bad enough that she only had another eight hours before Nyx’s CAPS storage was drained, but what worried Flurry the most was that unknown vessel that was shadowing her cousin's ship. Flurry’s only consolation was the fact that Nyx was the most capable pony she had ever known. A cunning starship captain and a formidable warrior, there was no pony better suited to defending the Orion. Of all the times they had sparred together, Flurry had only ever managed to last a few minutes against her cousin before tapping out. Any pirate attempting to board Nyx’s ship would be in for a nasty surprise from the former incarnation of Nightmare Moon. Then again, they wouldn’t have to attack her head on. All they needed to do was wait and let time do its work. Wait for the oxygen to run out. Wait for Nyx to… Flurry opened her eyes with a snort, shaking the water from her mane and forcing the unpleasant thoughts out of her mind before they could gain any more traction. She mentally chided herself for letting her anxiety take root. In fact, if it wasn’t for Whammy keeping her grounded in reality, she might have lost all her focus and done something stupid. After receiving Nyx’s message, Flurry had nearly burned out her engines trying to get to Harmony as fast as she could. It had taken Whammy’s typically stern pragmatism to make her relent. A burned out drive core was not going to help Nyx’s situation at all, so now they were plodding along at a pedestrian pace—at least that’s what it felt like. Flurry had also spent her time poring over the data Nyx had provided, trying to figure out who it was that was shadowing her. All she had was a fuzzy radar silhouette and scattered energy readings to go off, but it was a start. Naturally, since interpreting techie stuff wasn’t her forte, she had wasted no time calling Ambrosia up to set her on the case. If this was any ship known to Broken Bow, she could count on the changeling to find it. This had left Flurry with nothing to do but wait. Whammy’s opinion was that she should be busying herself with minor repairs. She suspected this was mostly to distract her from worrying about Nyx and what was to come. With a sigh, she turned the water off and let the shower’s auto-dry function do its work. Hot air blustered from the grating beneath her hooves, banishing the clouds of steam and billowing her short mane about. With her wings spread slightly at her sides, the airflow rustled her feathers, but even this simple pleasure felt numb in her current frame of mind. Once she was dry, she trotted out of the shower, feeling a little more refreshed. Plucking a battered comb from her sink, she set to work trying to tame the monster that was her mane. Even cut short, her mane resisted any attempt to conform to style, a few locks of hair refusing to fall into line with the rest. Eventually, she conceded defeat, tossing the comb back into the sink. Trotting out into her bedroom, she was confronted by the scrutinizing gaze of Whammy. He was perched on her oversized bed, nestled in disheveled silk sheets like a ship in a storm. “There, all clean and presentable,” she announced, giving Whammy a twirl so he could inspect her efforts. “Wouldn’t want those Harmony snobs looking down on us now, would we?” She had a feeling Whammy would have rolled his eyes if he could. “You saw how they reacted when we sent off Nyx's distress call," she huffed. "I wouldn't be surprised if they try and shoot us down the moment we jump in." Flurry stomped her hoof at the mere thought of that snobbish unicorn mare who had answered her call. All tarted up in that fancy uniform, that self-righteous sneer plastered on her face. Whammy eyed her impassively as his antennae shook from her stomp. She shook her head at his implied question. "No, holding onto Nyx's data is the only way I can guarantee they'll let me land. We're not exactly the most popular ponies at the moment, are we?" One antenna drooped, questioningly. “They confirmed Nyx’s signal was legit, didn’t they?” she said, weaving through the debris field that was her bedroom floor to get to her bed. “If the situation is as bad as I think it is, they're going to need every bit of help they can get." Whammy chose to remain silent on that little point. Ever since the Harmony Initiative had been announced, they had been nothing but trouble. Ostensibly, they were meant to help in the reconstruction of the worlds cut off in the Dragon’s Head nebula. Grand promises and dreams for the future were thrown out like candy on Nightmare Night. Then, the governments started to interfere. Supplies never arrived where they were promised. Construction projects never got off the ground. The same sad story was repeated across a dozen worlds. The only thing that changed was that a few planetary governors ended up with a new luxury shuttle or any number of flamboyant perks. Then there was Harmony station. The only thing Flurry knew was that it had drawn in every honest worker from Apas to Cuvuria to work on it. Though, in the four years since it had been publicly announced, she had seen nothing tangible out of them. The site had been sealed off to the general public ever since some civic-minded zebra had tried to blow up the place. Even the press had been kept out of the area, with only a few scattered stories lurking on the networks. “Seriously, Whammy, I can’t believe Nyx expects these Harmony clowns to step up,” she complained, fluffing her wings and looking away from his jiggling eye. “Yes, I’m aware that Nyx trusts them, but that doesn’t mean I do.” Her ears flicked, and she could almost hear his heavy sigh. She blinked in surprise, “Have faith? That’s the best you’ve got? Faith has kinda dried up around these parts, Whammy.” She scooped him up with her telekinesis and hovered him at her eye level. His head flopped slightly to the side as he floated in her grasp, causing her to let out a sigh. “Fine, I promise I won't go in and tear up the place.” She then pointed a hoof at him. “But if I ain’t satisfied that they’re up for this, then the deal’s off and we do it ourselves. Agreed?” The plushie floated over and bumped her hoof in acknowledgement. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna provoke anything. This is too important to be messing around.” Her gaze drifted to the long nightstand that dominated one side of the room. It was adorned with picture frames, the photos spreading onto the silver walls like a living creature forged of holofilm. Memories were hazy, intangible things without an anchor to hold onto, especially for an alicorn. Every alicorn had their own trick to keep hold of their treasured memories. Celestia had the Palace in Canterlot, with its paintings and statues, giving her a tangible link to her ancient past. Nyx preferred something simpler, a box of keepsakes, tiny reminders of precious moments in her life. But for Flurry, it was photos, along with her music and movies, that were her link to the past. Her ship was dotted with such places—little shrines of memory. Her ears fell as she spotted an old picture of Nyx sitting with her when Flurry was just a filly. It was easily visible because it was standing tall amongst a group that had been lain face down. They were sitting together, Flurry in the forefront with a beaming smile on her face. Nyx was behind her, a weary smile on her face from what had been a frantic day trying to keep Flurry out of trouble, The two hadn’t been that close in a long time, the past six years putting a real strain on their relationship. Flurry’s recent career choices never sat well with her more upstanding cousin, and they had barely spoken at all in that time, usually ending in heated words. The idea of meeting with Nyx again both elated and terrified her in equal measure. Whammy simply bobbed in her wavering levitation field. She managed a wry smile. “Saving her life is a good way of getting back in her good graces, isn’t it?” She drew him into a hug. “Maybe once this is over, we can talk a little. Provided I’m not arrested or anything… That’d be super awkward.” Her words sounded hollow in her ears, and she pressed Whammy a little tighter. A soft chime came before the computer announced, "Incoming transmission. Caller ID: Ambrosia." "Put her through," Flurry said, her ears perking. A small holo window appeared in her bedroom with the familiar face of Ambrosia. "Hey, Flurry," Ambrosia greeted. "I did some digging on your little ghost. From what I can tell, it looks to be Alliance. Elderberry class, I think." Her face scrunched up as she examined her results. "Heavily modified from the looks of it." Flurry frowned. "That thing must be fifty years old! What would it be doing out there?" "Nopony we know has a ship that big," Ambrosia said gravely. "This is something new." "Syndicate?" "Probably. They're the only ones I know of with the pull to grab a ship like that," Ambrosia replied. "Explains what I heard through the grapevine. Somepony hired Rancoth and his crew a few days ago for a big job." That explains the Houndrathi, Flurry pondered, rubbing her chin. "Any leads on who?" she asked. Even a name would give her something to work with, so she’d know what to expect, or who to hunt down once this was all over. "No, whoever was hiring used the local brokers to hide their identity," Ambrosia said, wilting slightly. "Sorry I couldn't get more." "It's fine. Thanks, Amby, I owe you one," she said with a smile. Ambrosia's wings buzzed slightly. "So you're going to Harmony station?" "If it is the Syndicate, the rescue will need all the help they can get," she replied firmly. "What if they arrest you?" "They can try," she declared, fluffing her wings with a smirk across her muzzle. "I've at least got something they need." "It's a big risk, Flurry." "She's my family, Amby," she replied firmly. "I don't care what it takes, I have to try. Besides, what's a few hundred years in jail to me, right?" Ambrosia went quiet, a sad smile on her face. "You be careful, okay? You owe me big, and I intend to collect." "Just be sure to visit me in prison, 'kay?" she said with a wink. "I might even bake you a cake," Ambrosia offered coyly, her wings buzzing. "Now you're just taunting me." Flurry fluttered her eyelashes, earning a raspberry from the changeling. "Attention: Avalon beacon reached. Navigator to the flight deck," the computer announced. "That's my stop," she sighed. "Thanks again, Amby." "Be sure to squeeze those Initiative foals for expenses!" Ambrosia said with a toothy smile before hanging up. Looking down to Whammy, she steeled herself. "Okay, Whammy, let's get this show on the road." <=======ooO Ooo=======> Flurry gazed out at the expanse of mirrorspace through the Dream’s sensors. Indistinct clouds of energy swirled and churned all around her, motes of oily colour washing against the Dream’s hull as it ploughed into the eddies that surrounded the Avalon star system. She felt a glimmer of joy as the Dream rode the system’s gravity currents, the waves of energy dancing off her hull. In the distance, dark clouds of energy flashed and boiled with crackling bursts of light. The Avalon beacon blinked invitingly, indicating the position of the Harmony station Arrivals gate, which orbited the planet Avalon 4. Flurry directed her ship to approach, anxious to finally get Nyx’s rescue underway. A few hundred canters away, a jump vortex opened up, followed by an Alliance personnel shuttle jetting through, into mirrorspace. The ship paused, seemingly regarding the Dream before heading on its way. Flurry pondered what they must have thought, finding the dreaded pirate ship Fleeting Dream there waiting for them. A small assortment of freighters and transports sat at the Arrivals beacon, patiently waiting for their negotiations with the Navigator’s Guild to finish before they could proceed. One of them backed away as she drew near, making her feel like a wolf amongst sheep. No doubt a few panicked calls were passing between them as she came to a stop alongside. The irony was that she wasn’t the biggest criminal here. An incoming call demanded her attention with the logo of a white unicorn head inside a golden circle appearing before her. After a moment of hesitation, she pressed her hoof against it. An automated message in an irritatingly chipper mare's voice chimed in. “Greetings and welcome to the Avalon System Mirrorgate. The next arrivals activation will occur in eight minutes. If you have already registered your flight plan, please wait in the designated holding pattern. "For unregistered vessels in your weight class, the fee is two hundred bits or trade goods of equal value. Please consult your Guild navigator or representative now. On behalf of the Guild, we thank you for your continued pa—" Flurry cut it off. Two hundred bits for a little ship like hers to jump back into realspace—even more for the bigger freighters. Thousands of bits changing hooves for something that cost a fraction of the value. Failing to pay your bill meant eventually being blacklisted from every port, and then being chased by the Guild’s bloodhounds the rest of your life. All of this done with a happy smile on their faces… and people called her a thief. A wicked grin formed on Flurry's face. “What do you say we wrinkle a few Guild feathers, eh Whammy?” Flurry took his lack of response as tacit support and turned her radio to the gate’s traffic control frequency. "Gate control, this is Foxtrot Uniform Zero One on approach. Clear sector twenty-seven by fifteen for an incoming jump point, I'm on approach in sixty seconds. Out."  She then hit her lateral thrusters just a bit to glide into position above the ships waiting for the mirrorgate. As she did so, she readied the Dream for her exit out of mirrorspace. 'Foxtrot Uniform Zero One," a stallion's voice replied, with the curt politeness one would expect from the Guild. "Your arrival is unscheduled, please…"  As his voice trailed off, Flurry eagerly anticipated the satisfaction of his next words. "F-foxtrot Uniform Zero One, this is restricted space," the stallion stammered, quickly recovering. "Do not attempt to enter, I repeat, do not—"  Flurry hit her comms again. "To any ships in the vicinity of sector twenty-seven by fifteen: Jump point opening in thirty seconds, so you'd better move your asses." "Jump drive fully charged," the Dream's computer announced. "Ready to engage."   With the gate controller still yelling warnings in her ear, Flurry triggered her jump drive, causing a flash of light to expand into the swirling colors ahead of her, adjacent to the queue of ships waiting for their turn at the mirrorgate. This vortex was bigger than the one she had used to escape the Alliance ships earlier—big enough to accommodate certain nearby cargo ships. Within seconds, she could see the familiar blackness of realspace expanding out of its center, complete with an assorted starfield and the crescent of a planet obscured by thick rusty red clouds, its edge just barely visible off to the right. Casting a glance to the queue beside her, she opened a public channel. "To all ships waiting on Guild negotiations, feel free to make use of the aperture while it’s still open."  With her heart warmed at the thought of every Guild official in the vicinity collectively having a seizure, Flurry eased the Dream towards the rift. Letting the pull of the vortex take her, she guided her ship through and was quickly out into open space. Looking back, she felt a tickle of amusement as an earth pony bulk carrier and a small Republic freighter snuck through the still open rift.  “Looks like somepony couldn’t resist a freebie, eh Whammy?” she observed, slowing to let the two ships pass her by. They then joined the myriad of ships that were waiting for their turn to be processed and assigned a docking route.  Nearby was the small gate control platform, a squat octahedron of polished silver with golden pylons on each corner braced with gilded struts. A cupola poked out from the platform's top, lined with windows to give the operators an unobstructed view of incoming and outgoing traffic passing through the paired gates.  Flurry wished she could have been up there to watch as the Guild officers scurried around like headless chickens in the chaos of her arrival. The thought made the journey worth it all by itself.  Cautiously, she broke out from the crowd surrounding the gate—no doubt to the relief of everypony there. She still hadn't been confronted by any police craft; busy gates like this should be swarming with patrol ships, and to not encounter any put her nerves on edge. Still, she pressed onwards. Ahead of her was the planet Avalon 4, currently showing its night side to her. A dapple of faint lights twinkled across the gas giant's surface like glitter on a black velvet cloak. Each was a narconium mining platform sitting in the eye of its own artificial hurricane, sweeping up the valuable mineral from deep within the planet's cloud layers. Flurry's gaze quickly focused on the cluster of bright lights moving along the planet’s equator. They were making their way toward the planet’s terminator, into daylight. “So that's Harmony station?” Flurry commented. “You getting a good look, Whammy?” From his perch at the front of the flight couch, Whammy had a front-row seat to take in the spectacle. She didn't want him to miss their approach. Several minutes passed before the station’s orbit suddenly thrust it into the sunlight. A small gasp escaped Flurry's muzzle at the sheer scale of the sight before her. Her initial guesses proved to be way off; the station wasn't just big, it was enormous. Even the grand stations of Caelum or Thera were dwarfed by this gargantuan piece of engineering. It reminded Flurry of those snow globe souvenirs she had bought during her childhood back on Equus. An entire city encased in a transparent sphere of reinforced omniglass, embedded into a sloping disc-like superstructure, like a jewel in a pendent. It was certainly an odd design, the Republic and Alliance architecture styles both competing with each other within the same structure. The pegasi's insistence on wide viewports, sweeping arches, and open spaces clashed with the earth pony utilitarian ethos of platforms and extensions. Clusters of pylons and antennas seemed to sprout from everywhere on the disc's surface like copses of trees on a grassy plain. Dominating one side of the station were two colossal docking pylons that were pock-marked with smaller gateways big enough to swallow the Dream whole. A framework covered in derricks and cranes connected the two pylons together. Flurry gave an awed whistle, “That thing's a dock? You could fit a Republic super carrier in there with room to spare. These Harmony ponies must be expecting a lot of traffic to pass through here." The initial wonder soon wore off, leaving only a bitter taste in her mouth. It disgusted her to think of all the riches that had been poured into constructing this place. All that money could have been spent helping Dragon's Head rather than building an enormous white elephant. She was sure the vultures of the Alliance and the Republic were already circling this place, just waiting for it to fall on its face so they could move in and take it for themselves. Speaking of which… Her blood froze as she spotted an Alliance cruiser surrounded by a flotilla of frigates. The cruiser was easily four times the size of its brethren. The bulging hammerhead bow held a cluster of gun ports, concealing the huge barrels of its railguns. The word Hyperion was stenciled onto the bow, a set of lights illuminating the name for those who faced down the barrels of its guns. Behind the bow, the hull was thinner and more conservatively armed than its smaller siblings. It had been daubed in an olive green with a positively garish white stripe down its flank. The frigates surrounding the massive ship huddled together like a group of foals would to their parent, sheltering under the protection of its huge guns. “Why am I not surprised to see those idiots here,” Flurry muttered, swallowing to wet her rapidly drying throat. The Alliance ships seemed to be in the middle of some kind of cargo transfer. Several tugs were working with EVA teams, moving large containers out of the cruiser’s ventral cargo hatch. Thankfully, the warships all seemed blissfully ignorant of her presence, continuing on with their work unimpeded. Flurry's body tensed as she closed in on the gathered flotilla. One casual scan in her direction is all it would take, and she would have a real fight on her hooves. Her criminal instincts that she had honed over the past six years were screaming at her to turn tail, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she slowed her approach and tried to blend in amongst the station’s other traffic. Suddenly, the ship’s comm system crackled into life. “Attention, unidentified vessel: this is Harmony Control,” a familiar mare's voice announced calmly. “Your arrival is unscheduled. State your business here.”  There was no visual, but Flurry recognized her hard, professional tone. It was the same mare she had spoken to earlier when she had passed on Nyx's distress message. “Harmony Control, this is Flurry Heart of the Fleeting Dream. I have important information regarding the Orion.” Her eyes flicked warily back to the Alliance ships. She would have to be careful with what she said over an open channel. “I request permission to come aboard to discuss the matter in person.”  “Fleeting Dream, interfering with a directed distress message is in violation of interstellar law. You will surrender any data you have pertaining to the Orion at once," the mare demanded. "In case you hadn't noticed, taking things that aren't mine is kinda my speciality," Flurry snarked. "Now we can sit here glaring at each other until one of those Alliance ships tries to shoot me down… Or you can let me dock and save yourself a lot of trouble, because I'm not leaving." Flurry gave Whammy a nudge in satisfied jest, but she had a feeling that if the snail plushie had been able to move and had hooves, one would have been on his forehead just then. A prolonged silence hung in the air between Flurry and the station. They had not severed the link with her, nor did there seem to be any reaction from the ships outside.  Her mind was already surveying the surroundings, plotting possible escape routes, lines of attack, and any cover she could use to her advantage.  Suddenly, her link crackled back to life, and the unicorn mare returned. “Fleeting Dream, permission to dock has been… granted. Hold position until your escort arrives.” Flurry could practically hear the grinding of her teeth across the radio. “See, Whammy. All under control,” she assured, her voice laced with self-satisfaction. Whammy didn’t dignify her with a response. It didn’t take long for four blips to appear on her sensors, coming towards her at high speed. She couldn't help but frown as they approached, their formation not being one she recognized. One was far ahead of the others, with the rest of them trailing behind in a line.  “What is this? Amateur hour or something?” Flurry grumbled. “This isn’t filling me with confidence, Whammy.”  Pegasus fighters usually stayed together to maximize firepower and to give mutual cover to each other. Stringing themselves out like these idiots meant they could be picked off one by one.  Flurry spun the Dream to face the oncoming ships, catching the glint of their canopies in the sun as they approached her. Much closer now, the elegant sweeping curves of these fast and nimble Republic Swallow fighters came into view. The lead Swallow waited until the last moment to slow, the thruster veins in the ship’s wingtips glowing white as they brought the fighter to a sudden stop in front of her. Flurry felt a tiny shiver down her spine as they sat nearly nose to nose. Not because of the manoeuvre, but because it was like coming face to face with a ghost. The ship before her was a relic from the war, at least twenty years old and now very out of date. Seeing the long wings arched forward and characteristic bulge of the large golden teardrop canopy triggered frantic memories of hundreds of such craft charging against her and her allies during the war.  Flurry felt her leg twitching involuntarily on the triggers as the pair of gimballed pulse cannons under the fighter’s slightly pointed nose swung across to aim directly at her. Thankfully, the Dream's weapons were powered down, otherwise the ship outside would have already been reduced to vapour.  “Come on, Flurry,” she whispered to steady herself. “Keep it together.” She felt Whammy shift against her forelegs as she squeezed him tightly. Flurry shook off the feeling and eyed the fighter carefully. It was painted a bright blue, but its new livery couldn’t hide the hull patches and wear and tear on its frame.  Her radio crackled to life. “Attention: this is Rapier leader of the Harmony Defense Force. You are to follow us to docking bay two. If you deviate at any time, I have been authorised to use force at my discretion. Do you understand?” There was an eagerness in the stallion’s voice, as if he was just begging for her to try something. Likewise, a part of Flurry’s mind almost wanted to oblige him.  The thought was quickly quashed by the reality of her situation. As fun as it would be to mess with these ponies, she didn’t have time to waste on such things.  “This is the Fleeting Dream, I copy,” she replied. “Lead the way, flyboy.” He didn’t dignify her with a response. Instead, his companions moved into position above, below, and behind her. The squad leader quickly brought her down beneath the station proper, where a long line of open hangar bays ran for at least a kilocanter, most sitting empty. Soon, they arrived at their destination in a remote section of the station where traffic was minimal. Flurry had to admit, after weeks in the black, the faint blue haze of the atmo-shield was a welcome sight. The escorts stayed in tight formation with her all the way to the dock, only breaking away when she had no choice but to go forward. She quickly passed through the blue haze and felt the gentle breath of air caress the Dream’s hull. The inside of the hangar was easily large enough to accommodate the Dream with room to spare. Large blast doors were closed on the left and right sides, partitioning her landing pad from the rest of Harmony’s hangars. Evidently, they didn’t want anypony to have any contact with their notorious guest. Bringing the Dream down gently, Flurry set the ship onto the pad. She let out a sigh as her ship’s engines quietly spooled down. As the links to her ship faded, her awareness returned to the empty flight deck. Silence rushed in, filling the void left by the sudden disconnect from her ship’s sensors. This time, it felt a little disconcerting. For the first time in a while, she felt… nervous. It had been a long time since she had cooperated with the authorities over, well, anything. With Nyx and her crew’s lives on the line, she couldn't afford to screw this up. Flurry felt warmth between her forelegs and saw Whammy’s eyes bulging from the squeeze she was giving his tiny body. “Whoops, sorry, Whammy,” she said, releasing her grip. “I guess I’m just a little apprehensive.” Whammy’s head bobbed as his body returned to some semblance of normality once again.  “I know, weird, right? I’m the big bad Flurry Heart. Talking to some stuffy ponies should be foal’s play,” Flurry said puffing her chest out and trying to ignore the hollowness in her voice. Her bravado died quickly, making her ears flatten. “I’m worried, Whammy. What if they don’t believe me?” She rose to her hooves and lifted Whammy to join her.  “That’s true, they did let us land,” she pondered. “At least they’re willing to hear me out.” One of Whammy’s eyes jiggled in her telekinetic grip. “Yes, yes, I promise I’ll hear them out as well,” she snorted with a wave of her hoof. “Let's get going. We don’t want to keep these Harmony ponies waiting, especially since they rolled out the red carpet for us.” <=======ooO Ooo=======> Flurry cautiously stepped onto the gantry and took a deep breath. The air tasted fresh—still tainted by oil and metal, but far cleaner than what she was used to. She was glad she had decided to wear her flight jacket, as it was decidedly chilly in the vast hangar bay. Beyond the blast doors, Flurry heard the sounds of work going on in other bays, echoing through the cathedral-sized space.  “You okay there, Whammy?” she asked, looking to where the plushie was strapped to her jacket’s shoulder.  The plushie remained still—perhaps, Flurry assumed, out of embarrassment. He looked like a tube of toothpaste that somepony had squeezed in the middle, his fluff bulging on either side of the strap, stretching his seams. It was not graceful or stylish, but it meant he could get a good view of what was going on.  “You look fine,” she nickered. “It's a good look for you.”  As Flurry trotted down the gantry, his antennae bobbed up and down, comically, only increasing her mirth. It was a silly thing, all things considered, but it helped stem the anxiety that was coiling inside as her hooves hit the deck.  Her attention was drawn to several figures emerging from a doorway at the far end of the hangar. There were five of them, four clad in jet black security armour and the last wearing a sky-blue uniform.  As she got closer, she could see that the others were three earth ponies and a zebra concealed mostly behind armour. Their shoulder-mounted weapons were currently holstered, making her think that they weren't here to arrest her… at least, not yet. Standing at the center was a tall unicorn mare with a pristine white coat and deep-blue mane. It was styled in a neat practical bun, the mare exuding an aura of professional composure that would be the envy of a Canterlot Royal Guard. The silver epaulettes on the unicorn’s shoulders positively glistened in the light of the hangar, as did the command bars on her chest.  Somepony must have drawn the short straw, Flurry thought to herself. What drew Flurry's attention, however, was the chain of small gems woven into a lock of the unicorn's mane. It was the signature of a knight of the Evocarum.  Wow, the Federation sent one of their best, Flurry pondered, eyeing the line of rubies and sapphires carefully. She must be here to guard their investment.  No doubt this mare had been sent down to make sure she didn't cause any trouble. Only a fool picks a fight with an Evocarii, and Flurry knew from experience to be wary of them. The mare regarded her for a moment, those deep blue eyes looking briefly to Whammy then back to her, an eyebrow cocked. To Flurry's surprise, the mare then bowed. “Greetings. I am Lieutenant-Commander Snow Drift of the Harmony Defence Force. On behalf of Harmony Station, I welcome you.”  Flurry raised an eyebrow. “Thank you. I admit, I wasn't expecting formality.” Snow Drift lifted her head. “You are a guest of Harmony and will be given all due courtesy.” “And those four?” “Given your reputation, it was felt an escort was necessary to put our personnel at ease. Do not be concerned; they're here for your protection,” Snow Drift replied. "I feel safer already," Flurry replied, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Now, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to see Captain Oakheart so we can conclude your business,” Snow Drift said, gesturing for her to follow.  “Oakheart? As in the Oakheart?” Flurry gasped.  “You've heard of him?”  “Who hasn't? He was a legend in the Alliance fleet during the war,” she replied. “How'd he end up here?” “The Director recruited him personally. That's as much as I know,” Snow said. “Now, unless you have any more questions, we'll be on our way.” A Spell knight of the Evocarum and a war hero from the Alliance… quite a setup they have here, Flurry pondered. They certainly had no shortage of capable ponies at the very least.  “Great. The sooner we get this done, the better,” she said while trotting beside the unicorn, their escort falling in on either side. “Indeed,” Snow Drift replied coolly. “We're still picking up the pieces from your arrival.”  “Oh? Nothing bad I hope,” Flurry inquired innocently. The unicorn's brow twitched slightly and her tail flicked. “Nothing we can't handle, we’re just dealing with some… difficulties with the Guild after your arrival.” “I'm sorry to hear that,” she said, fighting back the urge to smile. “I'm sure you are,” Snow Drift replied sternly, giving her a pointed look. “Hopefully, we can avoid any disruptions in the future, compensating the Guild navigators is an expense Harmony can ill afford.”  “We wouldn't want the Guild to be out of pocket now, would we?” Flurry commented. Snow Drift worked her jaw. “Quite.”  Oh I'm going to have fun with you, Flurry thought with a mischievous chuckle. Snow Drift exhaled slowly, and they continued on towards the doorway. As they neared the exit, there was a gasp and a sudden clatter of tools hitting the deck, making everypony spin to face the source.  Off to their right, standing beside a pressure door leading to another bay, was a lime-green pegasus mare, clad in a grease-stained technician’s uniform. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as they focused onto Flurry. The mare shook visibly, her wings open and a foreleg raised. “L-Last Shadow! She's here?!” Before anypony could stop her, she bolted away. Snow Drift looked to Flurry with an eyebrow raised. Flurry merely facehoofed and let out a grumble. This is all I need right now.