Night Patrol 2 Chapter 60
By Foxgear
Fierce Fury returned to homebase utterly exhausted. He and his team departed the helicopter that brought them from Austopona. The mission a success. Ordering the pony with the stolen intel to go to Topaz’s office for analysis. The red rinin quickly made his way through the castle to the second floor to his office to write his report.
“We really fucked up this layout.” Fury grumbled, skipping the stairs at three steps at a time before going to the nearest window and gliding down to his office. Having a balcony was convenient for occasions like this.
With a warily look at the clock, Fury resigned himself to hours of desk work as he began writing his mission report. It sucked. Having to explain every little detail, only for some pony to blackout incriminating parts later.
Fury was midway through the infiltration when there was a knock at his door. Gruffly he beckoned the pony inside without looking up from his work. “What is it?”
“Something needs your attention at Night Port, Commander Fury.” A very pregnant Fleetfoot reported.
If he was angry, Fury didn’t show it. Perhaps out of consideration for the expecting mare, but more likely, he was resigned to his fate, or he would have been if he didn’t want to go to sleep. “Get Sixes then.”
“Supreme Commander Sixes isn’t here; he departed for Clydesdale with Commander Essex and Vice Commander Twilight Sparkle almost two days ago,” Fleetfoot reported with a cringe, meaning she probably had more bad news for him.
Don’t let it be said, Fury didn’t try.
“Luna?”
“She’s showing the Selene to Queen Cadence.”
“Topaz?”
“He’s yet to return from his mission in Prance.”
Resigned, Fury set down his quill. Seemed he was the highest-ranked pony present. For a moment, the red rinin thought about asking about Admiral McGather, only to quickly dismiss the thought. McGather was probably testing the new Airship; he was a navy pony after all. Even if the ship wasn’t on the sea.
“Alright, what’s going on?” He inquired, sliding out of his chair with a soft creak. Popping his neck, he followed Fleetfoot down the hall.
“There is a message about a pony being detained by customs claiming to be Rotter from Trifecta’s team, but he has no tags, nor is he in uniform. I’ve gathered his personal data and security questions. As well as a photo ID. The Express line is waiting for you.”
“I’ll be able to nap, at least.” Taking the express on the Night Rail meant all other trains were cleared off the route, and all stations cleared. At full speed, a locomotive could be anywhere in Evernight within the hour.
“I also had a security team aboard. Just in case. The customs agents have already performed the shapeshifter test but are keeping Rotter detained until his identity can be cleared.”
“This is such a pain.” Fury sighed tiredly. Being head honcho didn’t suit him. Everything was so complicated. He gets why they couldn’t just take ‘Rotter’ at his word. Not with shapeshifters out in the world. Cadence and Shining Armor having a particular reason to be wary of them. As well as everypony after the Changeling Invasion.
It was tiresome having all these security measures, but being lacks would only invite more trouble. “Gloves is in charge until I return, don’t burn the place down.”
“Of course, sir.” Fleetfoot beamed; he found that smile a little unnerving.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t play sexy secretary in the offices.”
“Not even his?” Fleetfoot pouted.
“You have a room. Besides, you already got one in the oven.”
Fleetfoot puffed her cheeks indigently. “Yeah, well, maybe you should put your dough in Spitfire’s oven, already!”
Unamused, Fury got on the train, not responding to his descendant. Settling down in his seat, confused. "Why does she act more like Overheat then Spitfire? Something's weird here." His old friend had scattered his seed far, maybe one of them managed to be planted in Fleetfoot's family over the years. It wouldn't surprise him. "Then again Spitfire is no prude." He thought with a smile.
Reclining his seat, Fury closed his eyes for the train ride to Night Port. Hopefully, nothing significant came from this.
“Sir.”
Some pony was shaking him. He swatted them away, letting out a threatening growl.
“Commander.”
Now they were really shaking him. There was also a very annoying high-pitched squeal. Why did his sleep have to be interrupted by so much noise!
“Commander Fury! We’ve arrived at Night Port!”
Finally, Fury’s yellow eyes snapped open, giving the pony that woke him a piercing death glare. The pony, whose name escaped him. Stumbled into the seat opposite of him—a trembling mare stood in the alleyway to catch the poor sap.
Both were Night Patrollers, but they were from the pencil pusher side of things. They weren’t rinin, but regular ponies on the payroll. So, he didn’t know their names. Actually, he might not have even asked before going to sleep.
“I’m up.” He replied neutrally, trying to put the two at ease. It was still dark outside. Which only made him long for the peaceful respite of sleep. His hour nap barely repaid his sleep debt. “Let’s get this over with. Where’s Rotter at?”
“Customs should still have him at the harbor, sir.” Pencil pusher one answered. Fury didn’t feel the need to get overly familiar with them. Also, it would be amusing to see how long he could go without asking for their names. “Lead the way.”
“At once, sir.”
Stepping off the train and onto the platform was uneventful. With it being night, there were few trains or civilians around. So, he and the other two were able to enter the town with little fuss.
That said, it wasn’t like Night Port was quiet. No. Like most of Evernight, there was a thriving nightlife in town. The main street was brightly lit by both street lamps and the moon. The white light reflecting off the dark blue water was a beautiful and romantic scene. Many flocked to the beaches and shores for a night of romantic conquests and enjoyments.
There was even music. Nothing deafening. Just some minstrels plucking away at some soft low-key melody. Even if there was nightlife, one must be respectful of those on the day shift who wished for a goodnight’s sleep.
(I wonder how Luna deals with pony’s on night shift sleeping through the day?) Fury’s mind was still a bit groggy, so his brain was wandering to mostly useless things. Though the thought did interest him. (I’ll ask her sometime maybe.)
Satisfied to leave it at that. Fury swiveled his head, taking in the sights. A food stall caught his attention and forced his hunger to make itself known.
“Hold up.” He ordered his two pencil pushers. Jogging over to the nearest stall, he dropped a silver owl bit on the counter, ordering three deep-dish tomato-basil red pepper pizza slices—his personal favorite.
He waved the two ponies over with the three slices in tow and offered them each one before biting into his own. “Didn’t realize I was so hungry. Eat up. We’re not that far from the harbor, nothing wrong with a snack.” He waved off the two ponies' concerns before they could voice them.
“Good, right?” He said, smacking his lips and licking his claws clean. The two nodded nervously, half-finished with their slices. “Right.” Fury patiently waited for the two to finish before resuming on their quest.
(I guess some ponies can’t get used to Rinin that easily.)
Fury liked to think things haven’t changed much. That they were just reaching their peak once more. He fondly remembered the golden age of Night Patrol. Thousands of ponies of every stripe filled their ranks, all eager for the fight and loyal to the cause. Things should feel the same as then, but they didn’t. He couldn’t pin down what was different, though.
Is it the contract workers? The weekend patrollers? Weekend Patrollers referred to ponies that came in for training and did volunteer work and relief efforts but otherwise lived civilian lives. It was part of the college program.
He didn’t look down on these ponies or thought them unworthy. Not every pony had the stomach for full-fledged military work. That was just a fact. And the Weekenders were able to do tasks that didn’t need their attention.
After all, why send a spec-ops team to deal with a flood?
If Fury was to put into words, the bond between the branches wasn’t as strong as it had been before. He never had to work with the weekenders or vice versa. They came in, did their training, and went home while he stayed at the castle.
(What’s it like, having a home?)
He had a home. But it was one he shared with many others. What was it like to have a private residence on one’s own land? He’s always felt a longing for a humble home that AJ the first built with Rawhide. Not to say he wanted to be a farmer, but to have a place to call genuinely his own, away from everypony else. A nice quiet place he could sleep and be at ease.
When he imagined such a place, Spitfire's image in a bandana an apron come to mind. It made him laugh. Spitfire wasn’t really the housewife type, nor did he really care for her to be. What was important, he wanted her there with him.
“I guess I figured out my retirement plan.”
“What was that, sir?” The female Pencil Pusher asked, looking back at him.
“Nothing, nothing, just thinking aloud. We there yet?”
“Just arriving. This is the Customs detainment building.”
“Good, good, you two deal with the legal stuff. I’ll go interrogate Rotter. Confirm his identity and all that.”
“At once, sir. Here are the files you’ll need.”
“Thank you… ah… what’s your name?”
“Oh, how rude of me; I’m Private Pen Quill, and this is Pen Brush. We’re siblings under contract with Night Patrol. Interns if you will. We’re both hoping to get a recommendation for our law degrees.”
Fury nodded, “I see, I see. Remind me later, and I’ll write one. That is if you do a good job.”
The Pen siblings saluted, “We will make you proud, sir.”
He only smiled. Feeling warm inside for breaking the ice with the two.
The Night Port detainment center was a sizable building. Not the largest in town, but it was one of the first. It acted as the central government building for the city, the police station, record vault, permit office, and many other functions. The east wing contained most of the civilian utilities. So most never had to go beyond the iron-barred doors into the west wing of the building.
It was there where the remaining seventy-five percent of the building was in use. The hall immediately after the iron doors was the town jail and drunk tank. Ten cells total, with five on each side of the room, with a small corner spot for the guard on duty. For various reasons, prison and customs were considered the same thing.
With Night Port being a port town, one never truly knew if one was sneaking into the country or just a lost traveler. Those that were considered low-level threats were placed in the jail with the drunks, in separate cells. It was a polite way of telling the unfortunate trespasser things weren’t that serious.
Now even further in, passed magic locked steel-reinforced doors, that was the big leagues. It was were pirates, suspected spies, traffickers, and other shady creatures were placed. This wing was run by Night Patrol. Full-fledged members, not weekenders. Granted, the ponies here weren’t the A-team either. There was actually only one Rinin stationed at the facilities. The rest were regular ponies that had joined within the last five years.
There were lots of bat ponies in the ranks nowadays.
“Commander Fury,” The pony in charge greeted. He was a familiar face. “Bixin. I thought you retired.”
Bixin laughed, “Compared to before, this is retirement.”
Fury couldn’t help but chuckle himself. “I suppose that’s true. How’re the misses and the little one?”
“Oh, the misses and Dasher are fine. I think she’s just starting to forget what having a baby is like. She’s been dropping hints about wanting another. I would kind of prefer another year to catch up on sleep, but I suppose it’s a roll of the dice.”
“I suppose,” Fury mindlessly replied as Bixin led him towards the holding cell with Rotter. “I was kind of surprised when you suddenly retired. You got settled really fast too. Vani Lu took that pretty hard.”
Bixin smiled, but it was joyless. “Well, I could never see her like that. She’s so young, and I’m probably one of the oldest rinin. I got nothing on Kira, but I’m certain I’m older than you and Sixes. There was just too big of a gap.”
Bixin’s number had been 1055, while Vani Lu was 9835. Since figuring out the meaning behind the numbers, they were beginning to get a sense for ages. Kind of. Bixin had this old stud aura about him. While a pony like VeeVee with the number 0099 was considered much younger. It really came down to what ‘materials’ were used in their creation.
It did make Fury wonder if the triplets were actually older than him. Trifecta was 0301. While he was 1337, they all felt around the same age, so they just ignored it. They were only numbers, after all.
“So, where is he? Rotter. It is him, right?”
“As far as I can tell. But we wouldn’t be doing our jobs if we just believed, right?”
“I suppose not.” He replied as they moved to the more secluded part of the prison. On the way, in one of the isolated cells, was a hooded being. Their eyes shining brightly under their ragged cloak. It covered most of their body, but Fury could make out a striped leg that hung off the bunk in the cell. “You got Zebra’s in here?”
Bixin stopped to look at the inmate. “Ah, she’s a special case. We picked her up over three years ago. She’s been released several times, but she always ends up here when she’s hungry. Usually, she just gets into a bar fight, but this time we caught her breaking into the private records, so she’s got a longer sentence.”
“What’s her name?”
Bixin frowned, “Don’t know. There’s quite a language barrier. She speaks some sub-Zebra dialect. We’ve yet to find a translator.”
“She’s been here three years and still can’t speak any of our language?”
“I’m sure she can. She just chooses not to, I think. If I remember right, she filed for asylum; well, she tried to immigrate at first. Under the relative’s section, she wrote what we think says ‘Walker,’ but we haven’t been able to find this supposed Zebra, so she’s kind of been stuck in limbo. We’ll see how the asylum plea works out.” Bixin shook his head. “At this rate, it might have to go all the way to Luna.”
“I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear this has been going on for three years.” Fury sarcastically replied, knowing the Night Ruler would be very displeased by this mess. He could understand how this could happen, but still, at some point, you have to just take the hit and go Luna. Even if it’s embarrassing.
The question of the Zebra settled Fury motioned for Bixin to continue on. The room holding Rotter was a bit further in at the left turn and then a right. Unlocking the door, Bixin allowed Fury entry.
“Commander Fury!” Rotter sprang up for his chair, but Fury motioned for him to sit back down. The red Rinin’s expression was pure business as he laid the file with Rotter’s information on the table.
“What is your number.”
“10197.”
“Where was your first deployment?”
“Sandy Shores, SD-17-1, under LT Winzar.
“Who was the first mare you kissed?”
Rotter blushed, mumbling, “Shouldn’t have chosen that one.”
“Answer the question.”
“Aqua Frost, but it was only on the cheek, and she thought I was cute and that I was too young for her.”
“A little TMI, but yes, that is correct.” Fury slammed the file close. “Ok, what the hell happened?”
Rotter, relieved to finally have his identity cleared, proceeded to explain the circumstances in Germane. He got the rare chance to see Fury go from calm to annoyed, to very, very pissed off.
“Are you fucking kidding me!”
“No, sir, I am not. Though I really wish I were. But Commander Trifecta has a plan, so everything is cool, right?”
“Cool, huh. You were supposed to just find some documents and leave! Now we have three ponies masquerading as Germane military personal without groundwork or support. Somehow, Jazz got herself drafted into a Germane unit about to be deployed. Trifecta is pretending to be a noble and is apparently boning a Germane Noble mare. All while Celestia is acting as a peace broker. Honestly, VeeVee probably takes the gold for not fucking everything up!”
Fury ran his claw down his muzzle, seething through his teeth. He needed to take a step back and think. Rash action would only compound their problems, so what was the right thing to do? Despite his headache, Trifecta’s plan was viable. High risk, but achievable. There were a few issues, but one stuck out to him that Trifecta really should have noticed but apparently didn’t.
“Slipping out of the country during the aftermath of a battle is fine, a great idea, but there is one problem. There’s a ceasefire in place right now.” Fury pointed out, and by Rotter’s blank look, he wasn’t getting it. “Do you know what that means?”
“Ah…”
“It means that unless the peace talks go to shit and the war restarts, they can’t fake their deaths. If they cause an accident to fake their deaths, that could cause the peace talks to fail. If they're caught, the peace talks will also fail because Equestria and Evernight will be accused of foul play, which will drag us into the war. Do you see the problem here?”
“Oh, so… what do we do?”
“We fix this. Follow me.” Fury ordered with barely restrained fury.
The interrogation room door nearly flew off its hinges, Fury stomping his way through the corridor with Rotter nervously in tow. Bixin followed along out of habit. As Fury turned down the hallway, he came to the holding cells; his eyes shifted towards the Zebra, who seemed kind of restless. It should have been an afterthought, and he believed that.
Until the Zebra called out to him. “Wait, take me with you!” She spoke in broken Avalon. Her words awkward and thick with an accent. The Zebra hadn’t even tried to rhyme, which only further empathized her clumsiness with the language.
Fury barely gave her a thought when a chill went down his spine; pure instinct demanded he turn around, fangs bared. The Zebra was out of the cell, standing in the hall, with her hood down. Perhaps it was a gesture of goodwill to show her face, he wasn’t sure. What he did know is he’s seen that face before. And it wasn’t all Zebras look the same trope. He’s literary seen her before.
“Zecora?”
The Zebra’s eye sparkled to life, “I’m Shaka, but you know of my sister?”
Several questions needed answering, and they would-be, starting with the strange Zebra before him. “Come with me. We’ll talk on the way.”
On the train ride back to the castle, Fierce Fury heard Shaka out, the translation was a bit rough, and it clearly bothered her, stumbling over words almost every sentence. Yet he got the jest of what happened. Maybe.
“Ok, you're from the Amazon Tribe. You went to war with the Germane Colonies and got smacked into the dirt. You fled the battlefield to go and find your sister, so you can what? Rebuild your tribe?”
Shaka nodded soberly. “Yes, correct as you say.”
“And you escaped how?”
“I have the blood of the Plane Walker. One of our great powers, but better to show than tell, yes?” Shaka’s coat proceeds to invert colors, and she passed through her seat like a ghost. She seemed very proud. “My older sister was set to bare a brood, but she thought my mother’s will distasteful, so she fled home to be free, but alone.”
The long mystery of what happened to Shadow Specter, the ghost pony, finally came to light. Fury was unable to clearly process his thoughts on the matter. So many years have passed, it was too late to help his old friend. Yet he couldn’t help but feel angry.
(He gave himself up to get the Amazons to deliver that warning. I can’t imagine he would have a hard time escaping once he regained his strength.) Shaka had bestowed the tale of how the Amazons chef of the time captured the Plane Walker (Shadow Specter) and had him mate with as many mares as was available. Being an all mare tribe, there were plenty. Seems the ghost ability was genetic in sporadic cases.
According to Shaka, from all the bloodlines (34), the Amazons were lucky to get one Plane Walker every other generation. So, it was an extraordinary deal when Shaka and Zecora’s mother birthed two in one.
The Chieftess thought she could finally have her army of Plane Walkers, but she never birthed another, even after seven more tries. So, she set her sights on her oldest daughter, hoping Zecora could pop at least one out. Zecora didn’t take kindly to this and left her tribe. That was the abridged version, but that was all Fury needed.
While Fury pondered what to do with Shaka, the Zebra in question was grinning stupidly, clearly excited that she could proceed with her revenge after three years of getting nowhere. Or so she believed. She conveniently ignored his counter-arguments to her offer to help retrieve Trifecta’s team.
It was true. With Shaka and Zecora’s ghost abilities, sneaking the team out would almost be too easy. Shaka listened through Rotter's entire interrogation. She also has been looking at classified documents while using the Customs prison as her own personal hotel.
What really scared Fury was how much of this broken Equestrian was probably an act. She admitted to reading the documents, implying she could read. Also suggesting she knew more than she let on. There was no telling what she knew or could know if left unchecked.
The only leverage he had over her was he knew where Zecora was. The Zebra relocating after the Everfree suddenly got too crowded.
“So, my terms acceptable? I help fight the Germanians to get your ponies back, yes? You take me to my older sister, right?”
There was that suddenly very clear Equestrian again. The more Shaka talked, the less broken her speech became. It might be his imagination, but Fury wondered if she didn’t rhyme just to try and play up the supposed language barrier.
He had to play this close to the chest.
“Look, there is no doubt your powers would be useful, but we’re not looking to start a war, were looking to end one. Even if it would make things thousand times easier, I can’t trust you on this mission. Not when you so clearly have your own plans that could endanger my friends.”
“Ah, yes, makes sense, makes sense.” Shaka was much more reasonable than he expected. It made him wary about what she might try to do. “We have different objectives, no helping that. Then in exchange for helping me find my sister, I help you, is that ok?”
“Why do you want to find Zecora? She left your tribe, as I recall. She might even be happy about your mother’s fall. How can I be sure you’re not just trying to find her to kill her? After all, taking out an entire nation by yourself would be impossible, but taking out the sister that left you? That’s something you could do easily.”
Shaka placed her hoof over her heart. “In my youth, I once thought like that, but after having to live with my sister’s expectations, I understand why she fled. I disagree, but I understand.” She smiled sadly. “Besides, defeating Zecora in combat is unthinkable for me. She is my better in everything. Mother reminded me every day after all.”
(Well, that doesn’t take killing Zecora off the table.)
Zecora wasn’t part of Night Patrol, but she had registered as an Evernight citizen. In good conscience, Fierce Fury couldn’t just tell a stranger her location and hope things worked out. That said, if he were to think like Topaz for a minute, there was a way to use Shaka to his advantage.
“If you help us and the mission succeeds, I’ll tell you where Zecora is.” (And send a warning after we leave.) He’d have to be careful given Shaka could be spying on him at any time, but this might be worth the risk. Besides, it would be even more dangerous to let her out of his sight. “That said, you’re not allowed to kill any pony, Germanians included. This is simply a rescue mission.”
“I will refrain from all, but one. The Germanian Witch is mine. If I see her, I make no promises. She was the one to wipe out my tribe. I must avenge them!”
The Germanian Witch was the Kaiser’s daughter, Titania. They had a file on her, and he’s read it at least once. Fury doubted Shaka’s ability to kill her in a straight fight, but assassination was an excellent option for a creature that could walk through walls.
(I might have to kill Shaka after the mission is over.) It was dark, but she was too much of a liability. (I’ll just keep that idea tucked away. Hopefully, she won’t make me chose that option.)
“So why did you stay in Night Port for three years?” He changed the topic to something much lighter. Mostly to lower her guard, he was also curious why she didn’t just leave and look for Zecora herself. Granted, the Everfree forest was huge and was only a quarter of Equestria’s size.
“Oh, that’s easy, every time I tried to leave, I’d always catch a whiff of something yummy, so I’d get distracted. I did take the train to the other towns, but the Port still has the best food!”
(I cannot tell if this is an act or if she’s just a gluttonous ditz.)
Fury hoped Topaz was back by now. Dealing with these kinds of delicate situations was hard on him. Besides keeping Shaka in check, he had to organize a team and transport. Since he was the highest-ranked officer at the base, he’d have to plan and approve everything.
(What kind of timeline am I dealing with? Who to send? How do I make contact with Trifecta and the others?)
Hopefully, the three had their gemcoms on and active. There was a risk Germane could intercept transmissions, but communication was critical. Otherwise, it would be the blind leading the blind.
With all the details whirling through his mind Fury began to formulate a workable plan. Workable was the best he could hope for right now; time was against them, and the situation was a powder keg waiting to blow up in his face.
(I need to know the situation of the peace talks as well.)
As the train rolled into the Capital station, Fury wasted no time rushing out, his gemcom alive with chatter. “Platinum, Bulwark gear up! Recall Spitfire! Have Ruby Blaze and her team in the control tower ASAP! Send a message to CL:44-Clover, tell them to get over here stat!”
A resounding “Yes, sir!” reverberated in his ears. The castle lit up like a Heartwarming tree, the staff scrambling for a sortie.
“Light Cruiser 44-Clover on the way, ETA two hours!” The Captain of the Airship reported.
The Clover was one of the remodeled Nippon Airships, named after the famous mage Clover the Clever. The third ship of the Hero-class ships. Its firepower wasn’t overly impressive, but its engine was an experimental new model that was the fastest in the fleet while quirky.
Going by Airship was dangerous, but it was also a portable base. If things really went to shit, Fury wanted some firepower. That said, if they stayed in international airspace, everything should be fine. Yeah, they’ll make everypony nervous, but hopefully, they’ll be too scared to notice them making land while the ship kept everyponies attention.
Leaving Shaka with some escorts, Fury and Rotter ascended to the Command Center to explain his chosen ponies' mission. Between the new monster ponies and the other specialist, he was confident they could complete the task.
When Fury arrived, everypony saluted while he took center stage. As the junior Commander Ruby Blaze took up position behind him, he explained the mission's details. The crack staff already had maps marked and ready for presentation.
“What I’m about to say is classified and doesn’t leave this room. Rotter proceed.” Having the word straight from the horse’s mouth, Rotter explained Trifecta’s team's situation, his escape to home, and what Trifecta was planning to evac out of Germane. From here, Fury took over, laying out the blind spot in Trifecta’s plan and current situation of the peace conference, which he just heard himself.
From multiple news sources from several countries from on-the-scene reporters, the first day's peace conference did not go well. The second day was still underway. Given the time zone differences, it was midmorning in Freiberger or so. By the time they got there, day three and Trifecta’s team would be on their way to the northwest frontlines.
“With the ceasefire in place, faking their deaths as battlefield causalities is non-viable. If they go through with it, it will spark up the fight again. Our objectives are to extract our comrades and ensure that we don’t cause the fighting to resume. With the peace talks on shaky ground, our time is short, but we will not fire first. As for the extraction, we have a secret weapon that will ensure our success.”
It was at this time, Shaka was brought into the room. She smiled a bit too wide for his tastes but didn’t openly comment on it.
“The Monster Squad will be part of the extraction team, Platinum will be the acting engineer and medic, Bulwark will be back up. Save for these five, all of you finish the preparations. We’ll leave as soon as the Clover is restocked and ready. You five, come with me.”
Fury looked at Shaka, “You too.”
In one of the smaller briefing rooms, Fury brought the Extraction team up on Shaka, her powers, and her story. Obviously, she received dubious looks. He assumed everypony had thoughts similar to his own after hearing her story. Plus, she was an unknown rogue element; trusting her outright was impossible.
Ruby, bless her heart, and for thinking with a clear mind, asked the obvious question. “I know we can’t do this for legal reasons, but why don’t we leave Shaka here and take Zecora. No offense, but your kind of shady.”
Shaka merely shrugged at her statement. “I can’t say I would be any different if you showed up at my home. I understand, but you need my powers, and I volunteered for this mission. There is no need to get my sister involved, right?”
Fury narrowed his eyes at her, maybe he was reading this wrong, but perhaps her objective wasn’t Zecora. (If she tries to go after the Kaiser’s daughter, my claws will be tied, but we’ll see how this goes.)
“We can’t ask a civilian for help with this. By Luna’s own words, we are not to force ponies into danger they didn’t sign up for.”
“But we could still ask! If she goes of her own free will…”
“The answer is no, Ruby.” He declared firmly. “Now, this is the plan for the extraction…”
Going over every detail for the next hour, Fury ordered the team to gather their gear and be ready for the Clover’s arrival. In less than forty minutes, they’d be on a ship to the Britannia Channel.
“Operation LRTSF: Let’s Rescue those Stupid Fuckers is underway!”