//------------------------------//
// 3 - Escape 
// Story: Commander: The Equis Invasion 
// by Meep the Changeling 
//------------------------------//

Amber jogged down the tunnel, chest heaving as her panting increased with each step. Her hooves clicked and clattered on the concrete floor. Their beat chaotically reverberated up and down the tunnel. There was no way in Tartarus that anyone even near the tunnel system didn’t know she was alive and moving.

So much for that ruse… Amber sighed to herself as she rounded the first bend.

<Ruse?> The Commander asked.

I made a smoke illusion to make them think… I mimicked a national disaster which would have happened had the box I found your Space Messenger Gem in had contained what we’d believed it had when we dug it up. Amber took a moment to quickly look over the tunnel wall and make sure the red line she was following was the correct one to lead her to the Weather Lab. But my hooves are super loud on this floor.

<About that… Do your people not have shoes? I know hooves are pretty great for walking about, but this one time I went on this Vidbinge about hoof repair so I know how fucked up a kinda sharp rock can make a hoof. Like, you could die from a serious infection.>

Amber winced at a light cramp forming in her left leg. Magical healing could do wonders, though strictly speaking, lactic acid build up wasn’t an injury. It’s just the physical process the body undergoes as it tires out.

 Yeah. True. My grandmother died that way. Amber’s ears drooped as she did her best not to remember the way her grandmother looked, and especially not how she’d smelled, when she’d passed on.

<Sorry, I didn’t know.>

We have lots of kinds of hoofware. But they’re not business attire. Amber deflected.

<Mmm. Good. I won’t have to try and explain boots for stealth operations. I don’t think I know how you make rubber, let alone synthskin.> The Commander mused idly as he took note of one of the turn offs from this main tunnel.

What’s with the mental note? Amber wondered, trying to distract herself from her budding cramp.

<Well, this is no maze… But, it would certainly be possible to ditch someone in the concrete passages. Is there any easy way to your bike above ground?>

Not one that has cover from spellslingers firing out from the windows, Amber grumbled as she rounded another of the tunnel’s corners.

The cage-wrapped crystal lamps affixed to the tunnel’s ceiling flickered and sparked. They’d been doing that off and on for the entire run so far.

Maybe we should focus on getting out of here? Amber suggested. This tunnel specifically, I mean. Before the storm knocks out the lights. I can do a light spell, but that will make us much more detectable.

The Commander “shifted” in the back of Amber’s mind. She wasn’t quite certain what he was doing at first, but it came to her after a few more steps. Amber frowned, not quite able to put it into words. I know what you’re doing, but… I don’t know how to…

<Oh, sorry. Uh… So my “species” has an intrinsic understanding of mathematics, probability, and statistics. Just like you corporeal critters have instinctive knowledge of physics even if you don't like, understand it scientifically. I’m terrabad at physics without a host. I’m tapping into your brain’s parietal cortex to see if there’s a way you can move your legs to minimize the sound your hooves are making.>

Amber narrowed her eyes irritably. I know I said do what you need to keep us alive… But that seems just a little invasive.

<You’re living in your frontal cortex. I’m not touching you, just the bits that control your body when you do things like catch a ball someone tossed> The Commander said, cutting off her concerns. <Though if you wouldn’t mind letting me access your higher brain functions, it would be nice if I could copy your linguistic centers so I can read your language.>

Oh, um, yeah go ahead and do that. The tactics guy should be able to read signs. Amber mused as she slowed to a brisk walk to catch her breath a little. Whew! I haven’t sprinted any real distance in… ages!

Amber felt the Commander quickly tap into her knowledge of language and copy it, then immediately leave her mind alone. <Wait… you consider about a hundred meters to be long?>

Well sure, I… Did also do a lot of running in the office too though. Probably about… Three minutes to… Wait a minute! Amber skidded to a stop and reflexively wheeled around to address the person she was speaking too. Hold on! You said you were just taking language! I— 

<... Language includes units of measure. Are you okay? I know you’re stressed out but try and focus.> The Commander urged.

The realiszation of just how dumb Amber’s accusaion was hit her like a delivery van. Even worse, the person she was being stupid around was in her head, so there was no hiding the concentrated essence of dumb she’d just taken a bath in.

Amber groaned and ran a hand down her face. Yeeeaaaah... That does include how long a meter is. Can we please forget that happened? I’ve never had ponies trying to kill me before.

<Yep! We totally can. Especially since your panic response is jumping to silly conclusions. I’m used to rooks sprinting headlong into the enemy when they panic… That or pulling off an impossible shot through several walls…Shame RNGsus won’t bless shots like that normally.> The Commander chuckled to himself for a moment, leaving Amber to take a moment to stretch her leg before the cramp set in.

<Anyways, I’m sorry for the scare. We’ll hash out proper rules as soon as possible. Even if I’m just with you for a few hours, I want both of us to be okay with it… But to focus on the now: Your movement is extremely limited,> The Commander noted. <I’ll have to account for that.>

Amber’s tail flicked irritably as she turned back around to resume following the red line. I’m not in poor shape! I’m quite fit, thank you very much!

<You misunderstand,> The Commander corrected with a mixture of apologetic and informative thoughts. <Average Humans can maintain a run of 9 kilometers per hour for 2.68 hours. Trained humans can do about the same speed, but for days at a time. The record for speed was 37.58 kilometers per hour, and time spent running was 80 hours, 44 minutes. Like, without a break.>

Amber sputtered out loud, nearly tripping over her own two hooves in shock.

“I’m sorry, what?!” she demanded. “What kind of horseapples is that?!”

<It’s true! Humans have the best endurance of any animal on their homeworld. They don’t need to slow down to cool off and have more tenacity in their little toe than most species we’ve encountered have in their whole body. Prehistoric Humans hunted via what they call persistence hunting, where they would literally just chase prey until it dropped dead from exhaustion.> 

“Celestia…” Amber muttered with a shiver as she did her best to focus on the fact she was being chased by ponies and not some gangly, furless, thing twice her size that she could not outrun.

Something that would just keep coming. Running until she weakend. Until her reserves were gone. Something truly relentless.

The thought lent some serious speed to her legs.

The Commander cleared his metaphysical throat, sounding more than a little embarrassed. <I guess I’m pretty spoiled in terms of what constitutes “a long run”. Sorry. Didn’t mean to be speciesist.>

It’s fine. Every tribe has its strengths and weaknesses. Why would alien tribes be different? Amber’s chest heaved once more as her panting returned with a vengeance. Even worse, while the cramp had been banished, her legs were starting to burn from the extended sprint.

<That’s an enlightened op—> The Commander switched tracks almost instantly, detecting something Amber could not. <Four sets of hoof steps not far behind us! Maybe some ahead as well.>

Amber’s heart fell even as the fear lent her a little extra stamina. Options?

<You’ve got a weapon. May I shoot for you?>

Do it!

The Commander drew Amber’s crossbow and quickly inspected the weapon. Amber could feel him analysing it, doing a lot of complex math she couldn’t follow, at least not yet. Watching the Commander’s thoughts while he worked was like staring at static you swore there was a pattern in. Like a magic eye painting Amber didn’t know the trick to seeing through just yet.

However, she did understand he was working out how her bow worked.

Amber focused on her run, only for her ears to lay back in fear as the sound of running hooves behind her entered her conscious mind. Hey, why not just use my memories of shooting that thing?

<Uh… Would you be fine with—>

Ethics can go to Tartarus for things involving not dying! Amber snapped, her left eye twitching.

<Kay.> The Commander swiftly tapped into Amber’s memory, searching for times she shot her hand crossbow. <Woah! That shootout you had was fucking awesome! Let’s do that again.>

Amber’s heart leapt in her chest ever so slightly. Yay! Someone got to see that!

<Okay… I think I can do this now. Just keep running and don’t fight my instructions. Just treat them like instinct.>

Amber nodded and concentrated on running. As much as the adrenaline spike had done to push her through the wall she’d hit a few moments ago, adrenaline could only do so much. She was starting to tire again.

Ten steps. That’s how long it took the League mages to round the corner. Amber counted them.

The Commander turned her head and shoulders, bringing her arm up to shoot, and bringing a squad of four mages into view. Amber immediately disliked the sensation. It felt like a reflex, like ducking out of the way, only also active. The confusing neurological signals broke her stride. She began to trip.

The Commander fired once.

The dart sped through the air.

A mage hurled an electric blue ray towards Amber’s back.

The Commander fired again.

The first dart struck the right most mage in the chest. He began to fall.

Amber fell forwards, her hooves slipping out from under her.

The Commander’s second dart slid off course.

The middle-right mage flicked her wrist. A ruby ray melted a furrow in the floor to Amber’s right.

The Commander fired yet again.

The dart whistled as it flew, striking the left-most mage in the shoulder.

Amber hit the floor at the same time the first mage crumpled to the ground.

A pair of spell bolts hissed over Amber’s head, singing her mane.

Amber rolled onto her back out of instinct.

The Commander fired twice.

The darts flew. The crossbow chirped, its enchantment warning them of its empty magazine.

One of the two remaining mages ducked, casting a shield spell. The dart sparked off the shield.

The other took the dart in the hip, and fell.

<Shit,> The Commander groaned as the remaining mage advanced on them, growling in anger and frustration.

Good shots though. Amber thought, trying to be brave.

<All you. I’m bad at physics, remember? I’m limited by your skill. Your physique.  I only picked the best moments to fire, and told your body when. Halves of a coin! I… Ugh... Sorry for making you trip… If it's any consolation, without a host or Elerium plasma to hop into… I’m also dead.>

Yeah, it’s super not a consolation. Amber looked up at the advancing mage, still doing her best to be brave. “Well? What are you waiting for? Transmute me into a rug or whatever.”

The mage popped his neck. “You’re one of the more frustrating ponies we’ve ever had to work with,” he said, his voice low and rumbly, like a babbling brook. “I can see your bag’s empty. You broke the box. You didn’t use the Stone. It didn’t explode. So where is it?”

The mage stopped a good three meters from Amber and lit their horn, plunging the tunnel into a deep red glow as they readied a spell Amber couldn’t quite identify. “Tell me, and I’ll let you go.”

Oh hey! They need me again. Maybe I can talk my way out of this?

<Try it. I’ll think of a plan B.> The Commander said as he began to go to work.

Amber could feel his every move, though she couldn’t comprehend the bulk of his efforts. Her mind simply was never built to comprehend the full nuances of time and probability as an Ascended Ethereal did. All she could see were snatches, fragments, motes of thought and calculation zipping past at speeds that rendered observing these moments impossible.

Yet she still knew what her unlikely friend was doing. Running through each and every likely course of action and outcome in search of a hand to play that would win this pot. He’s like a living computer! We’re so getting out of this alive!

Amber cleared her throat. “Yeah, about that… You know the Stones are locked onto altering the Equine form right now, right? You’d need to find all of the others and use each in turn before you could wish for… What do you guys want? You sure do a lot of work to hide the League’s political campaign contributions. At least, you know, to the courts. Are you trying to wish your leader into being the Princess or something? Sure, the Stones could do that, but—”

The mage snorted and waved his free hand dismissively. The other drew a small gray-blue crystal wand from his robes. “Do not presume to know the League’s goals! We don’t want the Stone to be used. Not yet. This time of change is what our species needs to survive. We’d grown too stagnant, too fat, too complacent.”

Amber’s lips pursed in surprise. There was genuine sincerity in the Mage’s words. Even if those are not his boss’s actual opinions, he sure believes they are.

“Alright,” Amber nodded slowly, but didn’t take her eyes off the stallion. “Let’s say I trust you not to use it. How do I know you’ll let me go? I did just shoot your friends.”

“Be that as it may, you have your job, I have mine,” the Mage said quite firmly. “The quicker we acquire the Stone, the better. You can save us a few minutes searching the side tunnels and air vents you had time to stash it in. Last chance. Where is it?”

<Bluff him,> The Commander sighed. <Without knowing what power he’s got ready, I can’t come up with anything. We need to buy you more mags and a melee tool if we survive this.>

“I rolled it down the third hallway I passed,” Amber lied, using her years and years of experience as a mischievous foal to make it sound and look as genuine as possible.

The mage nodded, clearly buying her ponyfeathers. “Thank you,” he tilted his head to cast. “And... goodbye.”

Amber’s heart nearly stopped.

Time seemed to slow.

The mage’s horn crackled and sparked as the spell began to release.

Amber twisted, trying to roll out of the way.

Even as she began to move, she knew in her heart it was futile.

Something silver flashed over Amber’s head.

A folding chair smashed rim-first into the mage’s horn, shattering it.

The mage flew backwards, screeching in agony.

His cries stopped as he struck the floor skull first.

<That dude just got knocked back like four meters by a chair!> The Commander noted in shock.

Was this your plan somehow? Did you magic up a flying— 

<No! There wasn’t any… Fuck this, we can talk later! That dude got KOed by a fucking chairthrow! That was awesome! Wait... Who did it?>

Amber spun around, jumping up to her hooves, more than ready for a fight. Morning Snow stood in the center of the tunnel, left arm extended, right arm holding a second folding chair.

Amber’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me! You’re at least half unicorn, but still have full earth pony strength?” She groaned and rubbed her temples. And all I get from my pegasus half is higher meat tolerances and a kinda nerfed mana-pool!

Morning smiled wide enough for his teeth to glint in the dim light. “E’yup!”

<T— They can all just… Chair yeet evil wizards to death?> The Commander stammered.

Eh, not most. Morning here is in the like, 95th percentile or so… Amber informed, bemused that something about her species discontented the alien as much as his friends had her. Wait, did the mage die?

<Normally things that go crunch like that do!>

Morning cleared his throat and transferred his chair to his now free left hand. “Come on, we should run back and pick up the Stone you ditched. He could have been sharing senses with his friends!”

Amber shook her head. “No need, it’s not back there. I lied. Box was empty, actually. They wouldn’t have believed that though.”

Morning nodded, frowning slightly. “Okay. You run to the Weather Lab. It’s clear there! I’ll hold them off here.”

Amber raised an eyebrow as her mouth twisted into an o. “Um, do you want to be melted into a puddle? These are wizards, not street thugs!”

Morning’s cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink Amber had ever seen. “Oh. Uh, right.”

Amber took a deep breath and began to run down the tunnel once more. “Then come on! There’s definitely more of them on the way. They think I have what they want!”

<Tiny fucking little pony just one upped a fucking Muton…> The Commander murmured in the back of Amber’s mind. <You guys run for it. I need to… Process.>

Amber and Morning ran down the tunnel silently for nearly a minute before Morning cleared his throat. “Uh, think that guy’s dead? I hit him harder than I meant to.”

Amber snorted and waved her hand in dismissal. “Who cares? He’d have killed me. Golden rule, filly!”

“Ah don’t think that’s how that is applied,” Morning said with the most confused ear droop.

“Totally is,” Amber panted. “Treat others as you wish to be treated. Goes both ways.”

Morning shook his head. “Eh, yeah, but, it applies to me too. I’ve only punched-out the other ones…”

Amber briefly felt her heart twinge for the young stallion. Maybe I've gotten too used to death from this job... 

She cleared her throat and looked at the brown pony’s eyes as best she could while running. “You gonna be okay? I know a good therapist.”

Morning snorted dismissively. “Ain't the first time I killed somepony. Ah was in the E.U.P. Just… Don’t like doing it by accident.”

Amber nodded, understanding at least in theory, what he meant. “I hear killing in self defense is something most ponies aren't bothered by… I’ve killed a few animals, but never a pony. Is that true? I mean, I might need to kill one of them now that I’m out of stun darts.”

“Mhm. ’S different then, and when y'all protecting somepony. Won’t bother you none. Just feels like stopping any other predator… Which is bad. Can make you stop thinking of ponies as ponies,” Morning warned as they passed a tunnel with a sign at the entrance labeled ‘Arcana Shelter’.

“There’s an Arcana Shelter down there,” Morning added quickly, “but the Admins locked themselves in it. There’s a safe room in the Weather lab incase we do someth’n real stupid. It’s spell-proof. You can hide there.”

Amber shook her head. “Thanks but no thanks. I’m gonna hop on my bike and get the buck out of here.”

Morning sputtered, his eyes widening visibly. “In this weather? Y’all got some kinda death wish?”

Oh right. Hurricane Buck You is happening… Amber thought to herself, her face slowly twisting into a frown.

<It’s fine. I can help you drive safely. We should get as far from here as we can,> The Commander advised soothingly.

Amber cleared her throat and gathered her courage. After seeing the Commander help her shoot like she had in the bathroom again, and repeatedly, she believed him.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve driven in worse,” she insisted.

Morning shrugged and scrunched his face. “Suit yourself… Guess I’ll see ya to the parking garage then.”

Amber’s ears perked. “Hey! I can get us both out of here. There’s enough room for two on my bike.”

Morning shook his head, causing Amber’s tial to lift in surprise. “Nah. You go.”

Amber frowned, slowing down somewhat in surprise. “You… want to stay where evil ponies are—”

“Ah know. Look, it’s simple. Mage’s want you, not me. If you leave, just might make ‘em follow you. If they do, or don’t, nothing changes. There will still be ponies here who need help,” Morning said so adamantly Amber knew there was not one way in all of Tartarus that would make him do anything else.

Amber tilted her head even more. “What are you, a cape?”

Morning snorted and grinned. “Nothing like that. Ah just gotta do what my heart tells me is right,” the little stallion’s ears drooped back, his eyes dimmed as despair slid across his face. “Ah’m a soldier… Ex-Soldier. Saw too many poor ponies hurt in the Powered Wars to not help when ah can.” 

Amber hummed, not sure how to respond to that, but definitely understanding. At least, in principle. There was a lot of pain in that war for sure… Morning’s only old enough to have been involved in the last few years. Not that it matters with how they went…

<What war is this?> The Commander asked, interest radiating off his every being.

Long story very short, some of us are being born with powers and abilities beyond the norm these days. A while ago, the ponies using those gifts for their own ends got everypony else mad enough for an open war to happen. Our Princess intervened about a decade ago, forcing a peace. War ended two days before the date I was to report in for the draft. Amber explained as they rounded the tunnel’s final corner.

<Interesting. I’ll have questions later. Not that I imagine you could answer strategic and tactically relevant…> The Commander trailed off. <I’m... sorry… D— Did you just imply that you had a war against Supervillains?>

Amber grunted an acknowledgement and made a b-line for a set of stairsstares labeled “Weather Lab” as they came into view. Yeah. That happened. It sucked.

<Okay… and somehow, this was stopped by your sovereign’s child?>

Amber blinked once, in that moment realising how very odd Equestrian nobility must seem to a total outsider. No. Princess is the title of our uh… Executive leader? Uh… So the senate is like, the proper true head of government. So our previous Diarchs took the title Princess rather than Queen, because… History. Look, it’s complicated.

<Okay. But… Supervillains imply there are also— Oh my gosh! That’s what you meant by “What are you, a cape?”.>

Mhm.

<We are super fucked if the Aliens take your planet!> The commander said in a way Amber found far too excited and fancoltish.

Amber and Morning reached the terribly designed stairs and headed up, hooves clicking against the hard plastic edge banding thrice as loudly as they had the concrete. The hidden door at the top of the steps hissed open as Morning approached, revealing… Just another stairwell.

Nothing special. White painted cinder blocks, silver railings. Black tiled steps. The usual.

Morning reached the top of the stairs first and peeked through the chicken-wire reinforced windows set into the doors as Amber caught up to him.

“It’s clear,” he reported calmly. “Parking garage is… Uh, left, then out. Right?”

Amber nodded, wincing slightly as she picked up the distant, or rather dampened, howling winds outside.

“Yes.”

Morning nodded and with an interesting little two handed gesture, opened the door slowly and in such a way as to absorb the vibrations caused by the latch clicking open with his palm. He then soundlessly stepped outwards, pushing the door open while using it as a shield for his right side and looking out to the left.

Amber marveled for a moment at the totally silent way of opening the normally very clicky doors for a moment, then slipped into the hallway. The Weather Lab seemed far nicer than the administration floor Amber worked on.

Carpeted hallway. Framed paintings. Cheerful blue walls with a nice dark wood wainscoting. Light fixtures that didn’t look like they were on loan from a prison.

Why can’t my floor be decorated? Amber idly mused while doing her best to quiet-jog down the hall towards the exit sign.

<Just blame Doctor Vahlen. That’s what I do, and it’s worked out pretty well so far,> The Commander said, his thoughts carrying a strange sincerity.

Who?

<Long story. The TLDR being, a very annoying person you have to put up with because she’s the best at what she does.>

Amber had never empathised with somepony so completely before. That sounds like a give-hug situation. Too bad I can’t hug you. 

Amber smiled as she felt a vague sense of discomfort from her headmate. <Uh, don’t? Please? Let’s focus on getting out of here. Is there any chance they know which vehicle is yours?>

Amber paused to consider that for a moment. She wasn’t sure if that was something you could do with magic, if it was an obvious thing one would think to do if it was possible, and if that fit with the League’s tactics. She slowed down, still thinking as she reached the door that led into the parking garage.

I don’t know. Amber admitted as she put one hand on the door handle, doing her best to ignore the now very loud bellowing shrieks of wind, rain, and hail crashing down on the other side of the relatively thin metal door. Brace yourself for some serious wind though!

Morning drew up next to Amber a heartbeat after she started to turn the handle. “Ah’ll help you get through the wind. Brace and all that.”

Amber nodded, wincing at the realization of what going back outside would mean. “Thanks. Uh, good luck with your sticking around…” Amber bit her lip then on a whim reached into her inner jacket pocket and removed a flat, oval shaped, slice of pink crystal.

Amber pressed a finger against the largest faset on the bevel, making the stone glow with an inner white light as its magics activated. “Here, link your Messenger. That way you can call me later. I’d still like to get a drink and talk about comics… I need that more than ever now.”

Morning blinked, facepalmed, and took his own Messenger out, activated it, and touched his crystal to Ambers. The two gemstones flashed twice, then went dark once more.

“Sure thing,” Morning promised as he slipped the stone back into his pocket. “Let’s go. No sense delaying. Especially not if there’s any of ‘em in this build’n.”

Amber took a deep breath, pushed the all-too-recent memories of repelling down the tower out of her mind, and pushed the door open. The wind caught the door the instant it cracked open and ripped the heavy steel door from Amber’s grip, smashing it into the wall with a thunderous bang. The wind’s muted roars were unveiled as the wrathful screams of mother nature herself.

Amber felt a chill wash down her spine, not only from fear, but from the side-ways flying rain which instantly drenched her head to tail.

“Which way?” Morning shouted over nature’s fury.

Amber only barely heard him. Squinting her eyes to keep as much water out of them as possible, Amber searched for her bike. It was a fairly distinctive ride. It had belonged to her grandmother, and was one of the first motorcycles ever designed.

It didn’t take long for Amber to remember where she’d parked. The hard part was finding the bike nestled between two autowagons on the outer edge of the garage, parallel to the little concrete half-wall through watch all the rain in the world poured into the garage, seemingly intent on showing everypony it’s peas-soup-thick fog impression.

No fancy windscreen or body work. Simple, elegant. Refined. Cherry red with chrome accents and black leather. Classical Equestrian design present in every feature.

Like it? Amber asked. It was my grandmother’s. It’s one of the first models Gem Hound ever made!

<That is a pretty nice bike,> The Commander agreed, shivering as if he were somehow also soaked and chilled to the bone.

Amber turned as much as she could to face Morning without the wind knocking her over, and pointed to the windward side of the garage and began to walk. Each step required her full strength to push against the wind. All of her concentration and focus went into pressing on, maintaining her balance in her battle against the storm.

<Holy fuck, this is bad!>

The Commander’s shock washed through Amber’s mind. She stumbled. Morning caught her. Amber regained her balance and pressed forwards once more.

Can you still drive us out of this? Amber asked as she leaned into the icey wall of wind, doing her best to cut through it one shuffled hoof at a time.

<Maybe! Depends on you. I can only guide us to places your skill has a chance to succeed.>

Amber nodded, mostly to keep her focus on moving forwards. She’d felt that earlier in the tunnels. She really was half of their little cooperative. It was nice to have been told the truth about that. Most stories you’ll find with something like this have the Elder Things being super vague assholes.

<You have no idea! Pray to whatever gods your species has that we do not encounter another of my kind,> The Commander laughed in distress. <I bonded so young that my first host’s humanity rubbed off on me… Most of the Ascended are members of the League of Extrordinarily Cryptic Dickholes.>

Amber couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that. Morning braced her as the distraction caused her to stumble once more.

“Please tell me ya didn’t forget the keys,” Morning pleaded over the gale.

Amber felt her heart stop like blowing out a candle.

Amber’s hand shot to her lower left jacket pocket. Her hand found her keys. Her pending heart attack receded.

“Just the situation getting to me,” Amber yelled back. “It’s absurd!”

“E’yup!”

Amber struggled forwards once more. Her bike was nearly in reach. She could feel the anti-theft enchantments screaming in metaphorical agony as they resisted the wind’s attempts to push the bike away. Woah, feel that, Commander? Those wards were worth every bit!

Amber managed to make the last three steps to her bike. The winds died down ever so slightly. Seemingly out of respect for the mare’s struggles.

<Is that a psionic anti-theft system?> The Commander asked. <By the way, Commander is a rank. My name’s Asaru. It means rummage in one of my homeworld’s languages. That way in the event anyone ever called me by rank and title near a Japanese person, they’d get a giggle. Cuz, you know. “Good morning, He-Who-Leads-Those-Who-Disorderly-Search. I have the intel you requested.” Good times!>

Amusing… Amber grunted and reached out to grab her bike’s handlebars. The wind picked back up again, nearly tearing Amber off her hooves. Morning reached out and braced Amber with both hands, going as far as to push her up and onto her seat with a grunt of effort.

<My point was that I’d like you to use my name please. We’re equals.>

Oh! Sure. Sorry!

“Thanks!” Amber shouted to Morning over the renewed wind’s howles.

“Good luck!” Morning shouted back, flashing Amber a thumbs up.

Amber fished her keys out of her pocket, jammed them into the ignition, and turned the key. Please start…

The bike’s engine roared to life on the first crank, seemingly as eager to be out of the storm as Amber was. She twisted the throttle, revving the engine three times to prime it and make sure the alchemist’s fire flowed through the engine correctly in spite of the cold, then released the parking brake, gunning the throttle so the wind wouldn’t push her backwards into a wall.

Amber’s bike roared, audibly struggling as she pulled out of the garage against the wind’s wishes. A glance down at her gauge cluster showed her engine was running a good thousand RPMs higher than normal. A testament to the wind’s strength.

Amber felt Asaru go to work as she turned towards the garage’s exit. It was as if her every sense understood exactly what the wind was doing to her and her bike, and she just knew how to work around the gale.

<Just focus on driving. I’ll follow your lead.>

Okay. Let’s— Amber frowned, wanting to stop for a moment, but continued to roll through the garage exit, fearing being knocked over if she stopped moving. I can’t go home, can I? The League will be able to find me. All they need to do is question somepony I work with.

<Actually, you can definitely go home right now. For a bit. This storm will slow them down. I say we go to your place, get everything you need to lay low for a bit, then head somewhere safe.>

Amber hummed and pulled out into the street, her tires throwing a rooster tail behind her as she entered the two inch-deep river which had been a road just hours before. You sure?

<I mean… Can they teleport?>

Probably not. That’s pretty advanced and I don’t think I’ve ever heard even a rumor of the League knowing teleportation spells.

<Then do it.>

Amber nodded, twisted the throttle wide open, and raced off into the night.





What was normally a twenty minute drive consumed an hour. One of the most hellish hours of Amber’s life. Practically every road was blocked in some way or another. Floods. Ice. Rubble. Piles of Autowagons, trucks, vans, and even normal pull wagons. If none of those blocked a given street, then emergency services had it cordoned off to evacuate ponies from buildings which were just a little too in danger of collapsing under the hurricane’s unrelenting force.

They’d run through police lines, ramped off rubble to jump obstacles, even driven up onto one of the city’s monorail lines for a time, but they’d made it. The Manehatten city center was in their mirrors, receding into the distance as Amber pulled into the suburbs.

Neighford. A charming little community consisting mostly of duplexes and condos, created just for the ponies Manehatten needed as workers, but refused to pay enough to actually live in the glass towers with their “betters”.

Amber’s headlights cut through the rain as she turned down Cherry Lane, shivering like her life depended on it, and doing her best to ignore the impossible level of soaked she’d managed to make herself. The storm wasn’t nearly as bad in the suburbs. Here it was simply a very, very bad rainstorm. Thank Twilight the Weather Ponies deflected the storm by a few kilometers.

<Sooo… are they a superhero team, or like… Is that something your species has always been able to do?> Asaru asked, curious as always.

Pegasi have always been able to control the weather. We used to have them keep everything safe and scheduled, but after The Change reset the ways we access our magic… Well they’re still figuring out the new ways to do the old things. We should have proper weather control back in ten to fifteen years. Amber twisted the handlebars, following Asaru’s subconscious directions to avoid hitting a pothole mostly hidden by the slightly-flooded street.

Amber squinted, doing her best to pierce the darkness as the silhouette of her duplex emerged from the dreary night at the limits of her vision. It was a nice place. Modern construction, all Cedarwood siding, carved arched windows, and subtle gables. Complete with a large reading nook above an enclosed porch that was more of a sunroom than anything else. All of which sat in a lovely yard with a nice big tree specially growth-accelerated by an Earthpony so it looked positively ancient.

The quintessential Post-Change Equestrian home.

Amber’s eyes checked the windows. No lights were on. Doesn't look like anyone’s in there. It's as cluttered as Tartarus. You’d need a light to keep from tripping over. Though I guess the power could be out… Storms like this usually mess up the aether pretty bad.

<True, but your door is closed. That’s a good sign.>

Yeah.

Amber turned her attention to her driveaway. Her jeep was parked where she’d left it, the doors still closed. Her neighbor’s auto-wagon was missing, as it should be given they were on vacation. No other vehicle she could see was parked in either drive.

I think I recognise every wagon I can see… Amber mused as she looked towards her porch.

The storm had blown the outer doors open, and cracked two of the windows, but that had happened during the last wind storm too.

I think it’s safe. Amber said as she pulled into her driveway and reached out with her magic to open the duplex’s shared garage.

The door’s wards recognised the touch of Amber’s magic, and unlocked as she pulled on it. The door slid open with a slight creak, revealing the collection of tools, old moving boxes, chest freezer, and yard care paraphernalia which Amber shared with her neighbors. More importantly, it also had one of the building’s alarm panels.

Amber took a good long look at the copper and silver plate riveted to the wall above the door leading from the garage into her side of the building. There was no glow, nor were any runes visible on its surface.

Yeah it’s safe. Amber said as she pulled into the garage and turned her bike off, letting the door drop shut behind her.

As the bike’s engine rumbled to a halt, the headlight blinked off, plunging the garage into total darkness.

<How do you know?>

Landlord is a security nut. Our alarms are Aura Masked so you can’t find them without knowing exactly what you’re looking for and where it is. A League Mage would have looked for an alarm ward, but found nothing. Unless they’re like, really very good. In which case, we’d be bucked because they’d just cast a spell that would be called something like “Detect Amber and Turn Her into Crispy Bacon” from their home thirty kilometers away. Amber elaborated as she stepped off her bike and cast a quick light spell.

Amber couldn’t help but feel a little happy as the garage lit up under her spell’s cheerful white glow. She’d always loved her magic’s color since it didn’t tint everything around her some random color when using it. In this case, the white walls remained white.

Amber walked over to the garage door, unlocked it with with her keys, and stepped inside her rather cluttered home. The place screamed “Bachelor Pad” so hard that Asaru’s alien nature didn’t matter one bit. He understood exactly what he was looking at.

The Craftspony style home was covered in all manner of nerdy posters advertising tabletop roleplaying games and settings, comic heroes, maps of fictional places, old bands, and even mock propaganda posters for fictional armies from what were obviously wargaming games. That alone would have made Amber’s duplex feel cluttered… But she also had a rather extensive collection of melee weapons from all periods of Equestrian history displayed on shelves, floor-stands, and end tables. There were even a few shields and a suit of Classical Era Equestrian Guardsmare armor on a stand visible from the garage entrance.

An entrance which was, infact, a dead-end of a hallway with an immediate right hand turn into a livingroom. A livingroom best described as a breeding ground for randomly set down novels, plush throw blankets used as beanbag chair covers, and empty Cider bottles.

Topping all of that off was the way Amber clearly didn’t give a single buck about coordinating her home’s furniture in a given room. No two lamps matched. The “chairs” were all different sizes and covered by different blankets. Two curtains matched, but were clearly not ones Amber had purchased due to the fact their wine red nicely contrasted with the dark walnut wood-paneling on the walls.

“Whelp,” Amber said out loud. “Here we are. Make yourself at home.”

<You don’t need to talk out loud, you know,> Asaru said, holding in a comment about Amber needing an interior designer, stat.

Sure, but… Amber closed her eyes and listened intently for several seconds. Okay, no sounds. Not a rustle or creak. Nopony’s here. They’d have shifted a bit when I said something, right?

<If your bike and garage door were drowned out by the rain, yes.>

Amber nodded and walked into her living room, hanging a left to get to the stairwell. “Get yourself a drink or whatever. I’m going to dry off,” she said to keep the ruse up as she climbed up to the second story.

A second story that was comparatively very tidy.

<Huh…> Asaru noted that the posters in the hallway were actually hung with care and not overcrowding the walls.

Living room is for fun with the girls. Upstairs is for calm, Amber informed, understanding his confusion perfectly well.

Amber took the second door on the right, entering into her bedroom. It was a fairly empty space. Amber spent little time here. A bed. A night stand. A dresser. Each very simple, plain, and basic. Cheap flat packed particle board and screws. The most boring furniture imaginable. The only noteworthy things in the room being the massive nest of comforters and weighted blankets atop Amber’s bed.

Before you ask, I like to feel cuddled when I sleep, Amber commented as she opened the topmost drawer of her dresser.

<I wasn’t going to,> Asaru commented idly.

Amber ignored the fact she could feel he totally had been about to ask, and turned her attention to the drawer. It was mostly filled with a large gray oil-cloth hiking backpack, but of course… a mare’s dresser drawer usually contained other, more private things as well.

Amber hesitated for a moment, blushed, then turned to one side so she could lift the bag out and close the dresser without looking at what resided beneath her pack. I keep a spare field kit ready to go ever since I got called at two in the morning and told I had to be at a dig by four. It’s got everything needed to rough it in the woods for three days, including dried rations!

Asaru snickered. <You know that I can tell you’re doing this to hide your toy collection, right?>

Amber’s eyes narrowed. HEY! I thought you said you wouldn’t read anything other than surface thoughts!

<I don’t have too. Girl’s dresser drawer. Shyness when someone’s watching her open it. I’m basically made of math you know,> he teased. <No but really, my species dosn’t reproduce sexualy, so I literally don’t care what you like slash do.>

I’m still not going to show you my collection, Amber muttered as she slipped the backpack on and walked over to her nightstand.

<Again, literally do not care. I’m just trying to make you comfortable,> Asaru said earnestly.

Amber huffed and pulled up on her nightstand’s top, opening a hidden compartment within it. The hinged top opened with a creak, revealing four magazines of tranq darts and a second hand crossbow. Amber took them both, tucking the second bow into her belt, placing the magazines into her belt pouches, and then reloading her spent bow with darts from a box hidden away in the depths of the compartment.

<Got a crowbar?> Asaru asked as Amber closed the compartment.

Amber tilted her head as she tried to follow his logic. Yes, why?

<You can hook one over your shoulder under a jacket and no one will notice it. They happen to make for very effective melee tools. I know you have spare mags but sometimes you can’t reload fast enough.>

Good point. I’ll get it from the garage before we leave… Amber frowned and sat down on the edge of her bed. I have no idea where to go.

Asaru sat quietly in the back of Amber’s mind for a few long minutes as she struggled to think of anything and came up short.

<Well… Uh… You don’t exactly need to go to the remotest mountain fortress in the world or anything. You should just lay low for a bit. A few days. Once the heat’s off, we can focus on contacting your government.>

Amber’s ears perked up. Hey, that's an idea! It’s a few days drive to Canterlot. Mom and I used to take the RV on camping trips everywhere along the road! I know the route like the back of my hand.

Memories bubbled up within Amber’s mind the moment she remembered those “camping trips”.

Long hot summers in a chrome plated rolling trailer home lacking a comfort talisman to keep things cool. Freezing winters with only the wood stove and blankets to keep warm. Her mother ducking out multiple times a night for “work” and coming back home exhausted but satisfied and smelling of changelings, or bitter and sullen and smelling of strange stallions.

Years spent without friends as they pulled away from one illegal camp after another as local authorities inevitably chased them away from their communities with the other refugees.

Amber looked down at the floorboards for a long quiet moment.

We could just go see the Princess. Her mental voice now quite hesitant. I doubt the League thinks I’ll just head straight for Canterlot.

<You can just… walk up to your leaders and say hello?> Asaru asked, seemingly in shock.

Yeah. Sort of. Open court on Mondays, but anypony can make an appointment for urgent business. Which we have. Amber said as she stood up. Come on… I’m not going to sleep in my Jeep. We’re going to borrow the RV from mom and have a little road trip.

<Cool!> Asaru said, positively aglow with joy. <I’ve always wanted to go on a road trip. Sure, I’ve done that when fully merged with a host, but… This is the first time I’ve gotten to interact with the physical world as, well, just me. Road trips are fun, right?>

Amber nodded solemnly. Yeah… Long as you have a home to come back to at the end of one.