Coffee clinked, mugs swirled, the chatter of laughing ponies foamed through the air.
“I’m gonna go over.” In the softly angled corner of Le Café du Son de L'amour sat two ponies: one, a pale, white mare tossing a shock of blue mane, the other a vibrant yellow pony smirking behind the shade of his lanky orange dreadlocks.
“Dude...” The stallion took a delicate sip from his steaming mug.
“Dude what? Why not?” Floating her own mug to her lips, the mare stole a glance across the room.
“Dude, as in, that’s gotta be the straightest-lookin’ mare I’ve ever clapped eyes on.”
“What? No way.”She stared over the top of her mug at the pony in question, a black-and-grey mare seated by herself, gazing out the window.
“Yes way.” Dreadlocks swaying as he leant back, he added, “See that dress she’s wearing? She’s expecting somepony. That’s a date dress for sure.” He smiled, satisfied. “Stallions can tell that stuff.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yup.”
“These awesome stallion powers wouldn’t be the same ones which told you it’d be a good idea to ask me out, would they?” She gave him a wide grin, “Cause that was a great idea.”
“Do you have to keep bringing that up? Tequila and nasal spray are a nasty combination.”
“Sure, blame it on the juice.” She laughed, and set her mug on the table. “I’m going over. I got a good feeling about this one.”
The stallion waved a hoof as she stood. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Vinyl smirked, leaving him to his bagel, and made her way across the room, threading through crowded tables toward the window. The object of her attention was a slender grey mare around her own age, maybe a year or two older, whose silky black mane was drawn into an elegant bun about her head. She wore a simple ebony dress that clung to her hips and fell gracefully down her legs. Definitely not a date-dress. As she approached, the mare turned to look up at her warily, nose held high.
“Hey,” Vinyl started.
“Hello.” The response was prim and neat, not inviting further conversation, but not rejecting it either.
“This seat taken?” She gestured to the chair opposite, clearly vacant. The mare shrugged. Vinyl wasn’t sure if this was an encouraging sign. “Uh, name’s Vinyl. Vinyl Scratch.” Vinyl decided to sit, running a nervous hoof through her mane.
“Satin Cord.” The mare inclined her head politely.
Vinyl’s eyes darted around, searching for something to say. At the corner of her vision a yellow stallion didn’t try very hard to hide his amusement. She scowled. “So...” Her gaze latched on to Satin’s dress. “What’s the occasion? Or are you one of those ponies that just likes wearing clothes?”
The mare considered her for a moment, then her mouth twitched into a brief smile. “It’s for a date.”
“Ah.” Bastard jinxed it! “With, uh, whom, if I may ask?”
Satin smiled, more easily this time. “Nopony in particular.”
“Ah. Ah!” Vinyl’s ears shot back up. “I see. In that case, may I buy you a drink?” She gestured at the mare’s empty glass of... “Is that wine?” Vinyl was no stranger to a glass every now and then, but midday was early even at the worst of times.
“Cranberry juice.” She giggled, a high, magical sound. “But I’m glad you think so highly of me.”
Vinyl flushed.
“But in response to your offer, I’m afraid my time is running rather low.” Satin glanced at her hoof, “Very low. In fact, I believe I must be going now.”
“Where you off to?” It sounded more accusatory than she’d meant, and Vinyl winced. “Your date?” She tried to lighten her tone.
Satin’s lips twitched with another smile. “Something like that.” She paused, eyes narrowing, seeming to deliberate for a moment. Then she looked up with a grin. Something peculiar glinted in her eye. “You’re welcome to come along, if you wish.”
To her date? Or... Vinyl, surprised, smiled back. “Sure! I mean, yes, I wouldn’t mind. I wish.”
Satin stood, picking a small bag from the floor, that strange look still in her eye. “Excellent.” It was almost a purr, and Vinyl felt her cheeks reddening. “I’m glad.”
As they left the Café, Vinyl cast a look back at her yellow friend, mouthing Sorry! He raised his mug in acknowledgement, wistful expression swiftly hidden by a smile. That smile dropped as a waitress came over with the bill, and Vinyl smirked. She’d make it up to him, probably, but right now she had other things on her mind.
“Soo...” Vinyl trotted to catch up with Satin, who had reached the door. “Where we going?”
“Oh, not far.” Satin adjusted her dress with a casual hoof. “Just around the corner, really.”
To many ponies, the phrase ‘just around the corner’ might mean anything from another minute’s walk to halfway across Canterlot. Satin, however, used it literally.
“The bank?” Vinyl tilted her head in askance as they walked through the huge golden doors.
“Mmm-hmm.”
Vinyl stared, realising that was as much of an answer as she was getting. “Okay then.”
With a shrug, Satin transferred her bag to a hoof, and with the other began rifling through it. Vinyl took the opportunity to marvel at the majesty of the building surrounding them, eyes wide, struggling to take it all in. It was an incredible display of opulence, a place of obscene wealth that embodied pretty much everything Vinyl disliked about Canterlot. That didn’t mean she couldn’t admire it, though. Marble pillars laced with delicate veins of gold, finely cut silver ornaments topping every desk and bannister, shimmering drapes that hung from the beautifully painted ceiling, impressing upon even the most indifferent of ponies that this was a place of expense, money, and riches beyond imagining.
Their hoofsteps echoed through the wealthy air as they approached the counter, Vinyl keeping a step or two behind Satin.
“Welcome to Hoofsdayle Bank.” A large purple earth pony stallion examined them from behind the counter, hooves pleasantly folded as he droned on. “How may I be of assistance?”
“Yes.” From her pouch, Satin drew a thick white envelope, and passed it through the silver-plated cage between them. “I’d like you to take a look at that, please.”
The pony raised one eyebrow. With an air of extreme effort, he raised the letter with one hoof, and with the other retrieved a fine silver blade which he used to cut it open. From within, he pulled out a sheaf of cream-coloured paper, which he opened in a series of precise, exaggerated movements. His eyes moved from left to right and left to right again, absorbing dispassionately the information it contained. Suddenly, he stiffened, neck snapping to attention, and let the paper fall to the desk. “Of course, madam.”
Vinyl frowned as the pony descended from his stool and unlocked the booth, smiling rather woodenly. “Right this way.” He marched over to the side of the room, stopping at an ornate wooden door, opening it, and beckoning for them to follow.
Vinyl hung back. “I, uh...I’ll wait for you here?”
Satin giggled, shaking her head, mane shifting like some delicate silky animal atop her head. “Of course not! Come, come.”
They followed the purple stallion to the door, Satin oozing ease and confidence, and Vinyl glancing around the room, baffled.
The stallion closed the door behind them, and then promptly fell over.
Satin chuckled as Vinyl rushed to his side, putting a hoof against his neck. “He’s alive, don’t worry.”
“What?” Vinyl looked up at her, eyes narrow. “How... What happened to him?”
“Completely harmless. He’ll wake up in a few hours.” Satin waved a hoof dismissively. “Along here.”
Vinyl stared as she trotted off down the corridor, hooves sinking into the plush carpet and hips swaying with every step. Wha...how...uh... Vinyl stood, swallowing. “Satin, what’s going on here?”
Satin half-turned, an odd smile on her face. “You’ll see. Come on.”
Vinyl looked again at the unconscious earth pony. I mean, he is still breathing... She took off after Satin, trotting hurriedly along the corridor. Warm lights glowed above as she followed Satin through door after door, passage after passage, until finally they arrived at a small brown door set into the wall. Vinyl was vaguely aware that they hadn’t passed a single other pony on their way there.
“One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-now.” Satin flung open the door, grabbing Vinyl by the hoof and dragging her through after. Before them rose a large set of double-doors beside which two guards stood, talking. Distantly, Vinyl heard another set of hooves, voices fading as they vanished round a corner.
As the pair in front of them snapped to attention, Satin pulled from her bag another letter, which she handed to the guard on the left even as the one on the right began to speak.
She said nothing, just smiled sweetly as from her bag she pulled a small crystal, around the size of a hearthswarming bauble.
“Hey,” the left guard frowned, “this is blank!”
Satin’s expression didn’t waver. “Yes.” She tossed the gem to the right guard, who caught it on reflex in his magic. “It is.”
A red aura surged from the ball and vanished into the guard’s horn. Suddenly he turned, expression unchanged, and bucked his letter-waving colleague straight in the face. Vinyl jumped, gasping as the guard collapsed against the wall, armour rattling as he fell.
Saying nothing, Satin walked forward, brushing past the ball-bearing stallion as she entered the room. Vinyl, wide-eyed, darted in after her, the door swinging shut behind them even as the patrolling guards ran back around the corner.
“What happened?” came a voice, muffled by the wood.
“Silent here just collapsed. He wasn’t feeling too well today. Maybe we should...”
Vinyl twitched, gritting her teeth. She marched up to Satin, growling, “Okay, just what in the name of Celestia is going on here?”
Satin paused, foreleg raised mid-step. “Why Vinyl, darling.” She blinked at her, eyes huge and full of innocence. “We’re robbing a bank.”
What. What. What? “What.”
Satin giggled, grinning and turning my head to the end of the empty room. “What did you think that was?”
At far side of the room, sunk into the smooth oak panelling, was a great metal door. Huge, circular, and inlaid with everything from silver engravings to precious gems, it loomed over them like the gate of Tartarus itself. In the centre, an ornately carved handle thrust out toward them, polished and shot through with metal rods like the spokes on a wheel. Vinyl’s jaw dropped.
Satin grinned like a little filly, sashaying up to the door and laughing her delight. “Now...” She spoke softly, suddenly calm once more, “Let’s see what you’ve got.” From her bag she pulled out three items: a small metal rod, a pair of red wires, and a bright blue crystal.
“Now hold on a minute...” Vinyl stood stock-still, blinking as she struggled to wrap her head around what had happened. “Ponies don’t rob banks.”
Satin frowned, turning to stare at her. “Sure they do.”
“I mean...” Vinyl licked her lips, brow furrowed. “Ponies like us don’t rob banks.”
“Ah. Well, who do you think does it?” She turned her attention back to the objects before her. “Banks don’t rob themselves.”
“I...but...” Vinyl gave up. “How do you even open this?” She waved a hoof helplessly at the vault door.
“Oh!” Satin sounded pleased. “Well, that’s the fun part.”
“The fun part.”
“Mmm-hmm. Up until now...well, it’s all been planned. Evading alarms, unlocking doors, avoiding guards...all decided in advance.”
“But not this?”
Satin smiled, raising a hoof to pat the door almost lovingly. “Custom vault. Sixty million bits of the best security money can buy. Isn’t she a beauty?”
Vinyl nodded mutely. “Okay.”
“See there?” Satin gestured to the left of the door, where a flat panel of blinking gems shone in the metal, “that’s how one opens it. Hoofprint recognition, iris scanner, key-code, and a physical key for good measure.”
“That sounds pretty secure.” Vinyl ran a hoof through her mane, shaking just a little. “I don’t suppose you’re stumped and can’t get in and we have to leave now?”
Satin smirked. “I’m afraid not.” She took the metal rod from her bag in her mouth, and held it up to the door. “I’d say look away,” she said round the device, “but I think you’ll be fine.” With that, she turned her head and touched the rod to the silver etchings on the door. Vinyl’s eyes widened as the blue crystal glowed, sparks of magical energy crackling up the wires to the rod they were attached to. Satin’s eyes squeezed tight shut as the energy sparked straight across the gap into the silver inlay, causing the metal to glow. First red, then blue, then a blinding white that was only just made bearable through Vinyl’s red lenses, the elaborate silver pattern burned and then vanished, evaporating in a cloud of black smoke and molten slag. Coughing, Satin removed the rod from the door. “Would you mind locking the door, Vinyl? I am quite sure nopony heard that, but we can never be too safe.”
Vinyl blinked, nodded once, and headed for the door. How in Celestia did this happen? She stared dumbly at the door for a moment, mouth open and no words coming out. How did I end up here? Not an hour earlier she’d been drinking coffee and flirting. The door in front of her, golden and smooth, seemed to mock her as she stood. Can I just walk out? she thought suddenly. There’s the door, can I just leave? Glancing behind her, she remembered the precise, exact way Satin had taken out the guards. There’s probably a jewel in there with my name on it, too. Sighing, she considered how to lock the door. Was she meant to ask that guard on the other side to do it? About to push it open, she remembered that the unconscious one would most likely have been replaced by now.
“Uhm...Satin?” She tiptoed back across the room. “How do I lock the door?”
“Oh! We don’t actually need to, that was just to give you a moment. You seemed rather dazed.” For a moment, she looked almost guilty, before her usual elegant smile graced her face. “Anyway, I’m almost done here.” In front of her lay a new crystal, this one purple, and substantially bigger than the previous. Five red wires led out from it, two of them running into a port in the wall, the other three ending in little sticky globs. Moving quickly, she attached the three sticky nodes to gems on the panel. Vinyl braced herself. Satin shot her an amused glance, the gems sparked once, and then went out. Inside the door, something went click.
Satin stood back, admiring her work. The bubbled and distorted face of the once-grand door glared back at her. “Vinyl, if you would do the honours...”
This was her last chance to back out. Run here, and...well, she’d probably be taken down by either Satin or the guards, but she’d be done for being an accomplice to robbery, at least, not robbery itself. She looked back at Satin, and sighed. Buck it, you only live once. Concentrating, she wrapped the great handle of the vault in her magic and, straining, for the thing was terribly heavy, twisted. Groaning, shuddering, the huge vault door swung slowly open.
A soft yellow glow poured forth, spilling out over the floor and lapping at the faces of the two awestruck ponies. Gold. Gold in ingots, gold in bars, gold in vast unwieldy cubes, gold in twenty different types of coin, gold in hundreds and thousands of sparkling bits, all arranged in neat little stacks around the edges. And in the centre of the vault, a glass cube filled with precious gems.
“Wow.”
“Sweet Celestia.”
Satin walked forward with a slightly unsteady gait, bathed in the glorious, obscene, breathtaking glow of wealth. Vinyl followed as if by instinct, legs moving of their own accord. It was more coin in one place than either of them had ever seen.
Vinyl was the first to break the silence. “And how do you propose to get this out of here?”
Satin blinked, as if brought down to reality by the gentle weight of a thousand-tonne brick. Wordlessly, she placed a small purple stone on the ground, and tapped it with a hoof. “Stand back.”
“Standing.”
After a moment’s quiet, the gem began to hum. A few moments later, it was still humming.
“Uhh...is something supposed to happen?” Vinyl asked.
A sudden flash lit up the room, and when her vision returned, Vinyl found they were no longer alone. A green unicorn with long, lanky legs, sporting a dark green suit, had arrived in the room. He sniffed, scanned the place for several seconds, his horn glowed, and he vanished.
Vinyl shot Satin a questioning look, but she simply gave a tight-lipped smile, saying nothing. Seconds passed, and then there was another flash. This time, instead of a green suit, a grey one appeared. The unicorn stallion wearing it was short, stocky, and covering his shiny black head with several desperate strands of orange mane. He looked around for a second, before his piggy eyes alighted on Satin. “Octavia!” His face split into a wide grin, orange toothbrush moustache crinkling in glee.
“Father.” Satin—?—inclined her head with a strained smile.
“What beautiful work, my daughter! I am so proud!” His grin appeared to be missing more than a few teeth, with gold and even diamond glinting in his mouth. He ran his tiny gaze around the room, and his breath caught a little as he took in the full abundance of the vault. “Good work! Very good work.”
Satin stared at the back of her father’s head, solemn. As he turned back to her, she raised a grin that mirrored his own. “Shall we bring the rest in, Father?”
“Yes. I will see to it. Very good work.” A glowing horn and a flash later, he was gone.
“...Satin?” Vinyl placed into the silence. The word sat there between them, quiet and patient.
“...Yes.” Satin sighed, looking down at her hooves. “I am afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”
“You don’t say,” said Vinyl drily. “So what happens now, uh...?”
“Octavia.” she replied. “We get this,” she gestured to the millions around them, “out of here.”
Vinyl looked around at all the gold, the gems, the riches. An awful suspicion was sinking into her gut. “No, I mean...what happens to me?”
Octavia looked surprised. “Why, you walk out of here.”
“I’m not going to be...”—she hesitated—“dealt with?”
The grey mare paused for a second, as if considering the option. Then she let out a laugh, short, sharp, not at all like the liquid giggles of before. “No.” She turned away, and repeated it, much more quietly this time. “No.”
That didn’t help the pit in Vinyl’s stomach one bit, but before she could say anything, the flashes were back. Red, blue, pink, green, a multitude of colours lit up the walls of the vault, pulsing like the inside of a club. In seconds, ponies—all unicorns, Vinyl noted—were milling around the room, threading their way though the mounds of gold and gems with practised ease. Some of them carried strange devices: nets of gems connected by wires, sets of jewels like dice, and two of the ponies were so burdened with various glowing shapes and inexplicable metal rods that they would have looked comical, were it not for their grim expressions. Most of them, however, carried only bags. Large sacks and cases and pouches, hung from their bodies in a series of straps and ropes. As she watched, each of them darted to a pile of gold and began stuffing it into these bags, scooping hooffuls of coin and ingots inside them. When every one of a pony’s bags were full, they stepped back from the pile, closed their eyes, and with the glow of a horn, flashed away. Less than a minute later, they were back, and piling in the gold once more. The sheer mechanical efficiency of it was quite took her breath, but Vinyl found herself more than a little...offended by the whole thing. The ease of it, the simplicity with which they took all that potential—for good, for evil, for action—seemed wrong at almost an instinctual level. All this money belonged to ponies, didn’t it?
Satin—no, Octavia—was standing beside her, watching the whole thing with a grim little smile. Vinyl couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Her father, the one with the orange mane, looked on from the other side of the room, eyes shining gleefully as he watched proceedings with a grin full of money.
It was all over in minutes. The bars had been taken, the piles depleted, and the central gem casing cracked in seconds by the two overburdened mares. The vault, so full before, lay now all but empty, and then even the ponies were blinking away again.
At last there was only Octavia, her father, the green-suited pony, and Vinyl left. The black stallion nodded approvingly at the emptied room, and patted Octavia’s head. “Well done.” He spared a glance at Vinyl, and lowered his voice. “We’ll have a talk about that later.” His horn glowed, and he was gone.
Octavia sighed, then, seeming to gather herself, turned back to her with a smile. “Coming?” She held out a hoof.
“Do I have a choice?”
The mare shrugged. “Not really, I’m afraid.”
If she stayed, she’d have to find her own way out, and would be the only thing left of several million stolen bits. Vinyl didn’t fancy her chances. She clasped her hoof around Octavia’s own, the mare tapped the ground smartly, the green unicorn wrapped them all in his glow, and suddenly she was somewhere else entirely.
Teleportation spells were hardly easy, and magic had never been Vinyl’s strongest suit, so the wrenching that took hold of her stomach as they were yanked through space itself and spat out the other end was quite unexpected. Vinyl felt her coffee rise and fought valiantly to keep it down, tearing her hoof from Octavia’s to cover her mouth. For her part, Octavia looked only mildly ill, which Vinyl found especially impressive. Her earth pony companion probably had far more experience with magic than Vinyl herself.
Where they were was a mystery. A high metal roof, stacks of crates, and the bare concrete floor meant it was absolutely a warehouse somewhere, but Vinyl knew Canterlot fairly well, and she’d never come across anywhere like this. There simply wasn’t enough space for a place this big, and in the quieter moments, Vinyl was sure she could hear the soft chuckle of running water outside.
Around them, the gold was being tidied away as quickly as it had been taken, and in moments it was all packed away in crates and shelves, not a gleam of it exposed. It had vanished in seconds, all that money, and nopony except the ones stood here would be able to tell a word of where it had gone. Everything but the gems—these were placed carefully in a velvet-lined case and carried away by two blue-suited ponies.
A sharp whistle cut the air, and the black unicorn motioned over Octavia with a stomp. Octavia took a breath, flashed Vinyl a half-hearted grin, and headed over to join her father.
Soon the warehouse would be as deserted as the vault, and as Vinyl watched, the ponies began to wink away again, leaving no trace they’d ever been at all. Most of them looked exhausted, and she noticed a few of them had to try more than once to teleport out. Vinyl didn’t blame them. She’d seen more magic here than in all her old magic classes combined, and with the weight they’d moved between spaces, she was amazed they were even still standing. Several tons of gold had been moved, at least.
Sweet Celestia. Vinyl resisted the urge to simply crumple to the concrete right then and there. She’d robbed a bank. Or, well, she hadn’t, but...
Calm down, she told herself. What was the worst that could happen? She’d only watched as one of the wealthiest Canterlot banks had been drained almost dry, only seen how it was done, who had done it... Wait. She froze, a sudden thought arresting her. Is this the Mafia? Unicorns, bank-robbing, suits... She chanced a glance over at Octavia’s father, with his slicked-back mane and tailored suit, and swallowed. Yup, definitely the Mafia.
The ponies in question seemed to be having a bit of a disagreement. The stallion snorted and stamped his hoof; Octavia tossed her mane and held her ground. As the warehouse emptied, their voices rose, and despite the fact that they were loud enough to echo round the boxes, Vinyl caught very little of what was being said. “...Young lady...” “...my decision...” “...liability...” She gathered they were talking about her.
Eventually, the argument ended, and Octavia broke away, trotting back over without so much as a glance behind her.
“Hey,” Vinyl started, “sorry if I caused you any trouble.” She realised as she said it how insane the apology was.
Octavia held up a hoof. “Not your fault.”
There was a pause. Vinyl scuffed her hoof on the concrete absently. “So...”
“So.”
“I’ll be honest, it’s not the date I was expecting.”
Octavia giggled. “No? Shame.”
“What was he, uh...?”
“Oh.” Octavia cast a dark look back at her father. “Only how foolish I was to take you along, and how much of a mistake your involvement was.” She took a breath. “But you’re all right, don’t worry.”
“Well that’s good,” I said, releasing a nervous laugh. “So do I, uh, get to walk out of here alive then?”
“Oh, yes, absolutely.” There was not a single reason she could think of to trust her, yet somehow Vinyl found herself doing it anyway. Octavia looked at the ground. “I’ll arrange transportation for you then, shall I?”
Vinyl nodded. “Yeah, please.”
Octavia turned to go, then, but something made her stop. Vinyl realised it had been the “Hey,” that burst from her so unexpectedly.
“Yes?” Octavia stared curiously back at her. Her ears half-raised in something that might be hope.
“Uh, I was, uh, wondering,” Vinyl shook her head to clear it. “You wanna grab another coffee sometime?” she asked, prodding at the ground with a hoof. She cast her mind back a million years, remembering, “Or a cranberry juice?”
“Or wine?” Octavia said, ears flicking amusedly.
“Or wine, yeah.”
She bit her lip. Vinyl watched, heart pounding faster than it had at any point all day, focusing on the shimmer of her mane pouring over her shoulder, the slightly askew neck of her dress, the faint tinge of pink at her throat—anywhere but her eyes. Several years passed in an instant.
“Mm,” the silken grey mare murmured, her voice high and silvery. “All right.”