//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 - The Erudite Enclave // Story: The Depths of Discovery // by Seamserb //------------------------------// Twilight holds her breath. She barely can think straight at a time like this. She faces down the beast in front of her. Its presence looms over her, blocking her from advancing forward. This is the last thing that stands between her and becoming a full-fledged Pathfinder.  Her trusty tool in hoof, she gets to work. From side to side, and up to down. She slashes away at it, mincing at what little she has left to finish. She can see her foe nearing its end, but it refuses to go down quietly. Suddenly, it comes to her. Her finishing move. With a final swipe..! Her quill slides against the parchment ineffectually and blankly.  She pauses, looking down at it. Out of ink. After a few quick dips into her ink-well, and some few extra strokes— "And... done!"  Twilight smiles as she inspects her finally finished paper, feeling content about her work. She's been struggling with it for weeks, but it's finally finished now.  "An expansive guide to Moss Crawler feeding behaviors (Volume Three). The boys down at the Epistery are gonna love this one." Grabbing the small stack of papers in-front of her, straightening them against the table, and carefully placing them into her satchel, Twilight wastes no time. Leaving her quarters, she takes her descent down a rather long spiral staircase. After a few more twists and turns through the stone halls, she eventually reaches a massive and open area; the Nexus Point of the compound, its main chamber connecting every wing. As Twilight walks, she takes a moment to look at the structure around her. Metal and stone intertwine seamlessly, arcing upwards towards a ceiling like a dome. Various patches of greenery and trees adorn the walls of buildings and some parts of the ground as well.  Looking in any direction, she sees the various Wings of the compound expanding in their own respective directions, along with their personnel, various ponies of all different roles and jobs milling about.  Twilight can’t help but feel a little bit of pride. Just like the cogs of a well-oiled machine, or the heart of a strong and dutiful pony, every single member of the Erudite Enclave has a set purpose to accomplish and fulfill. The honest acts of many can lead to rewards just as plentiful, for all.  She takes a deep breath, smelling the familiar metallic and misty scent of the compound.  She feels a brief sense of nostalgia; afterall, she grew up here for most of her life. But she honestly can’t say she’ll miss it that much. Even if she did, she wouldn’t let it get between her task – the Great Task of the Enclave.  As Twilight continues towards the Epistrey, she spots a pair of stylish mares. She recognizes their uniforms immediately. Full fledged pathfinders. She can’t hear exactly about what they’re talking about, but she can only assume it’s about one of their probably many expeditions.  Normally, Twilight would probably be full of fan-girling right now. Even the most basic and lowest ranked Pathfinder would make her squeal – they’re a somewhat rare sight in Charlie Compound.  But she manages to hold herself back, barely holding back a crooked smile. She knows she’ll be just like them, soon… After a bit more walking, she finally reaches the Epistrey. She cranes her head up to take in the full glory of the metallic and stone structure.  Twilight smirks, smugly.  Your average Mule-Jule probably wouldn't really understand what all the fuss is about. They’re  essentially just glorified libraries. But those ponies who REALLY get it (like Twilight herself, of course…) know that it represents far more than even just its admittedly impressive physical presence.  Every single Compound has an Epistrey at its center – It’s always the first structure built after all – regardless of how impractical that may seem. To the Enclave, the Epistrey is as crucial as a building block to any settlement as having food or soldiers.  Each one is a bastion and testament to The Great Task; the acquisition, maintaining, and cataloging of all knowledge and information possible, in the pursuit of making a better Underworld for all.  It’s almost representative of the Enclave as a whole. Nearly shining like Sol himself, its figure pierces through the dark and dull surroundings, providing a respite and refuge against the darkness that surrounds–! “Hey! No loitering, Missy!”  Twilight’s eyes widen as she snaps back to reality. She sees two armored guards at both sides of the Epistrey’s entrance, slightly glaring at her. “O-oh. My bad. I’m actually here to deliver this—” She’s about to unlatch her satchel, but the guard cuts her off. “Get on with it, then.” He says, gesturing to the door. The other guard continues glaring.  Twilight hurriedly enters the Epistrey, a bit flustered. As she walks further in, she hears a bit of chuckling from behind her.  The Epistrey’s interior is even more impressive than its exterior, but certainly reflects how large it looked. Elegantly patterned mosaic and metal walls contrast with a dark hard-wood floor. Various statues, paintings, and other similar artifacts are spread out across the main chamber. Looking above, she sees various rafters and shelves of endless amounts of information collected over probably hundreds of years. The impression of size given off by the outside was certainly accurate. She can barely even see the ceiling.  Twilight feels a bit giddy. She loves being here, although she unfortunately isn’t allowed to stay long without having a proper reason. As the guard said, no loitering.  She sees other ponies moving about. Some hold documents or other papers with them, while others simply congregate with their peers. She also notices multiple Pathfinders heading in and out of smaller chambers in the distance she’s never been before. Hopefully she gets to see what's in them, soon.  Twilight looks forward once more, breathing a sigh of relief. The path to the front desk is completely clear. Usually it has an absurdly long waiting line.  She approaches the front desk with a smile, spotting a stallion sitting behind it, writing something with a quill.  “Hello!”, she says, cheerfully.  The clerk doesn’t even turn or look up at all, instead continuing to write with his quill.  Twilight waits for a few seconds, frowning a little.  “Uh.. Hel—’  The clerk raises his non-writing hoof like a ‘shush’, but still doesn’t look up at her at all. After a bit more scribbling, he finally glances towards her.  “How may I help you?” He says, monotonically.  Twilight can feel her initial happiness die a little, but presses on.  “Hello. I’ve come to deliver my fifth report!” She says, recovering a bit of her lost cheer.  The clerk stares at her for a second or two, before pressing a button. A small slit opens up on Twilight’s side of the front desk, just wide enough to slip a paper in, or a few at once.  Twilight knows the routine by now, and slips her stack of papers in, sliding into a small trench in front of the Clerk. He picks it up, inspecting it briefly. Twilight looks like she’s expecting a compliment.  The clerk simply gestures for a nearby assistant, who he hooves it off to. Twilight looks as he takes it away to a further chamber. Twilight feels proud, knowing it’ll soon join the momentous catalogs.  The clerk clears his throat and smacks his lips. “Twinkle Spar—” Twilight’s smile nearly cracks. “Twilight. Twilight Sparkle.” She corrects, slightly annoyed. The clerk squints slightly. “Twilight Sparkle.” He says with an equal slight amount of annoyance.  “Congratulations. You have successfully delivered your fifth paper, meaning you are now in the final step to becoming a Pathfinder.”  He delivers it with a cadence that only somepony who has said that dozens of times could have done, only changing out the name. “Yes!” Twilight says, a bit subdued. Normally, she would probably have jumped up or pumped her hoof, but in a place this proper, she holds back.  The clerk raises an eyebrow, but continues.  “In order to be—’ “When can I take my first expedition?!” Twilight asks, a bit giddy. She already knows the process to a tee.  The clerk pauses after being cut off. He clears his throat again. “We have an expedition leaving today, act—”  “Really really?! Yes!” Twilight actually does a little jump now. A few ponies glance over briefly, but Twilight doesn’t notice. “When does it leave?! What do I need to prepare?! What—” “Please stop cutting me off.” The clerk says, a tinge of anger in his voice.  “Sorry. Just... a bit excited.” Twilight says, a crooked half-grin on her face. The clerk gives a forced smile and squints. “I can tell.”   He leans back in his chair. “Ill put you into the queue system, you’ll be able to—” Twilight’s eyes widen. “The what now?” She asks, confused. She’s somehow never heard of that in her entire career of Pathfinder obsession.  The clerk looks at her with a bit of bewilderment.  “The queue system. There’s a queue system for Aspirants such as yourself to get picked for Expeditions. You queue up, and whomever is in front gets to go first.”  Twilight is slightly shocked, but shakes it off.  “U-uh… Okay. Where am I on the list?” Twilight asks, curious but still confident. Surely she’s like second or third… Even fourth wouldn't—" “Sixth. You are sixth in line. When it is time, you will be called—” The clerk says. Twilight’s jaw nearly drops. “WHA—” She puts a hoof to her mouth. More ponies last time glance over with some disapproving looks, especially the clerk.  Twilight clears her throat.  “Sorry about that. But, sixth in the queue? I’m supposed to wait for six expeditions?! I didn’t even know there were six Aspirants in Charlie Compound total!” Twilight says, in shock. The clerk doesn’t miss a beat. “Well, there are. And there's five of them ahead of you.”  “Wait, why did you even tell me there was an expedition today if you knew I was sixth in the queue???” Twilight asks, clearly annoyed.  The clerk shrugs.  Twilight approaches the desk, touching the counter.  “Surely there has to be somet—”  “Please remove your hooves from the counter.” The clerk orders. Twilight quickly pulls them back. “Surely there has to be something that I can do to get further in the queue, right?”  There has to be. The Pathfinders value initiative and haste. Surely there— “No.” The clerk says. Twilight feels like she’s about to have an aneurysm.  “Please! There HAS to be something! Anything! I’ll—” “The queue system is set in stone. There is nothing you, me, or anypony, except maybe the Commander, could do. Life is dictated by order and lists. You have to wait your turn like anyone else.”  His mouth opens like he’s about to say ‘Next’, but Twilight gets in between his view.  “You don’t understand! I need to—” “Ma’am. I assure you that causing a scene will NOT put you ahead of the queue. And I’m sure having a recorded outburst is the last thing you’d want on your future Pathfinder log, right?” He says, squinting.  Twilight notices some ponies staring at her now. She also sees a line behind her.  She almost turns red from embarrassment. She quickly pulls back, defeated.  “Okay. Okay. I get it. I’ll… wait until I’m called.”  The clerk eyes her.  “Yes, that was the plan… farewell, Miss Twilight. You’ll just have to stay in the Compound for now… like the rest of us.”  Twilight’s sadness is replaced with confusion, briefly. Before she can even register what that last part meant, the clerk punctuates it with a loud ‘NEXT!’.  Twilight slumps back into a bench at one of the smaller common areas – somewhere personnel can reside when not on—duty, but also not as chaotic or crowded as the Nexus Point.  Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you see it), Twilight doesn’t have a conventional job per se — that being becoming a Pathfinder. This gives her a lot of free time. Unfortunately for Twilight, she HATES having nothing to do.  What is she even going to do in the meantime? She was banking on being able to start an expedition at least this week… the most entertaining thing she can imagine is the Troupe coming back, but last time they were here they accidentally flooded the lower levels with sewage, so it’s unlikely they’ll be allowed back again.   She stares blankly at the ceiling, staring at the metal reinforced enclosed ceiling of the Compound. Her eyes may look up, but they sure as heck aren’t focused on anything.  Where did it go so wrong? Is this her fault? It has to be her fault. Should she have written her papers about something easier, faster, or smaller? She KNEW she should've made The Various Forms Of Granite (Volume 3). If only she actually learnt about the queue system earlier! It’s all her fault. Stupid… stupid..! “Twilight?” A gentle voice calls. Twilight quickly snaps out of her stupor, sitting up. She looks towards the voice.  It’s Golden Harvest.  “You okay there?” She asks, looking worried.  Twilight’s shoulders droop a little.  “Oh. Hey, Gold… yeah. I’m fine.” she says, trying to not worry Golden too much.  Golden takes a seat next to her on the bench.  “Really? Cause it looks like you were just staring off into the void to me…” She says. “Well I mean— I kind of was staring at the ceiling but—” Twilight scoffs and slightly mumbles, incoherently.  “I just turned in my fifth paper and got queued up for my future Expedition.” Twilight says, with none of the enthusiasm she most certainly should've had after saying that.  “Nice!” Golden says, cheerfully.  “No, not nice! I’m sixth in the queue!” Twilight exclaims.  “Oh. Is that… bad?” Golden tilts her head, unsure.  Twilight nearly looks at her like she screamed bloody murder. “Yes, that's ‘bad’.” Twilight says, clearly shocked a little.  “Really? Sounds like you get to spend more time at the Compound, though!” Golden says, with a positive tone. Now Twilight looks at her like she did scream bloody murder. She almost sputters and trips over her words. “Wh— NO! That’s not what I want to do!” Twilight says, bewildered.  Golden frowns. “Why not?”  Twilight feels like ripping her own mane off.  “ ‘Why not…’ “ She repeats to herself, almost chuckling. Golden doesn’t understand. “Golden. Don’t you ever get tired of doing the same repetitive routine here? In the same place? Forever? With no respite?” Twilight asks. As an Aspirant, Twilight has a relatively high amount of freedom to do as she pleases, as long as she’s actually progressing. But more basic and simple workers like Golden are essentially forced into the same grind forever.  “Nope! I love the routine!” Golden says, cheerfully.  Twilight face-hooves. “Don’t you ever wonder what lies outside the Compound? What lies outside the other pockets? Think about how much we don't know… how much we don't know we don't know!” Twilight exclaims, extravagantly.   Golden puts a hoof to her chin, tilting her head.  “Hmmm… sometimes I do think about that kinda stuff… but then I think about hey if I wasn’t in the Compound I’d probably starve or be eaten or be beaten or get lost or fall into a chasm—” Twilight glares at her with a frown.  “—yeah. You get the idea. I don’t get it Twilight, what's wrong with being safe and happy?” Twilight scoffs. “Safe… happy… If people never did things because it wasn’t safe, or because it could make them not happy, they wouldn’t have ever discovered or figured out the technology to MAKE the Compounds. Then where would the safety and happiness be?”  The paradox throws Golden for a little loop, but she shakes it off. “Yeah, but why think about it like that when it DID happen anyways? That was the past – this is the present. Besides, as long as I have a purpose, I'm satisfied.”  Twilight rolls her eyes.  “And that purpose is..?”  “Producing corn! Duh! Charlie Compound is the leading provider of corn in the whole Enclave, Twilight! Isn’t that a-maze-ing?” Twilight groans, putting a hoof to her face. Not only at the horrible pun, but the statement about Charlie Compound itself. Following a conventional ordering system, Charlie Compound was the third compound to be founded in the Enclaves thousand year-long history, after the destroyed Alpha Compound and retired Bravo Compound. While most societies would probably have continued to upgrade and expand something so old into one of their greatest settlements, it turns out when your entire worldview is based around progression and ditching the old, you aren’t exactly keen on sticking around a relatively primitive base anymore. The Compound has been largely retrofitted into one of agricultural production, mainly corn.  Twilight HATES corn. It's wet and gross and irritating and it gets everywhere. The amount of times she's had to pick individual kernels out of her satchel is too many to count. “Some purpose, huh…” Twilight says, uncharacteristically cynical.  Golden tenses up a little, squinting slightly.   “Got something you wanna say?” not as cheerily as before.  Twilight glances over with an annoyed expression, barely moving her head. She feels like the damn clerk now.  “Oh nothing… just that I wouldn’t be content with something as redundant as farming corn my whole freaking life.” Twilight says, offhandedly. Golden is really on the defensive now. She holds her head high, eyes closed. “I didn’t take two years at Corn College to be disrespected like this…” Twilight grumbles. That place seems like a diploma mill to her, anyways. The unicorn doesn't appear to notice Golden having moved a bit closer, a slight glare on her face. “I’m so sorry that us non-pathfinders chumps apparently aren't good enough to make you feel 'content' or that you have a 'purpose'. That we're just soooo bad that you want to leave as soon as possible." She’s about to retort with something, when she just now notices the angry farm-hand staring her down. The larger and much bulkier earthen looms over her slightly.  Twilight gulps, slightly scooting away and holding her hooves forward appealingly.  “Woah woah! Hey! Come on! I think we’re getting a bit too heated here, yeah?” She nervously says, trying to defuse the situation.  Golden shrinks back a little, sighing.  “...sorry.” she says.  Twilight can’t help but feel bad. She glances at the now slightly-sullen earthen, just staring ahead. Despite Golden being her closest friend, there's always been a strange divide between the two of them. A dissimilarity. All of Twilight's original peers either fell out of their 'Pathfinding phase' early on, like most do, or actually made it and became Pathfinders… which comes with the ability of leaving your home Compound. Which they all did. Only a few of them even bothered to say a goodbye. The experiences crushed her. As Twilight broods, her eyes widen. She realizes something. All this time, she's been telling Golden how much she wanted to leave and be 'free' from the Compound. The exact same things that her previous 'friends' did to her. Leaving her in the dust. After a brief pause, Twilight looks over at Golden once more. “I’m sorry, Golden." Golden glances over, with a more neutral and curious expression.  "I just... I let my emotions get the better of me. Today was just so horrible and I didn't mean anything I said about you or anyone else being—" Golden just slightly raises a hoof. Twilight stops. "It's fine... Can't blame you for having a bad day, right?" She says with a cheery smile. Twilight lightly smiles back. The two continue sitting on the bench, looking out into the distance. “Ahhhh…” The clerk exhales a fine smoke as he leans against the wall.  “Why did I even take this job… oh right I DIDN'T and I was assigned to it by force.” He grumbles. “Wah… sixth place queue! Wah… help me I can't find my baby! Wah… you called that fat mare a mule… bah!” he taps his hoof. “One more shift and I'm finally free of this crap. I finally got to move up the line… Now I'LL be the one chewing out the front desk guy! Haha!”  The clerk blows another puff in his ‘break room’, also known as one of the Epistrey storage depots.  Smoking is officially banned in the Enclave, with its health hazards known all too-well, yet some partake anyway. It’s a wonder that ponies within the Enclave can even obtain the death sticks, yet some do anyways.  If he was discovered smoking, especially IN the Epistrey – he’d likely be executed. But to him, that would be preferable to working another shift as the clerk.  Hearing a beep from his pocket, he pulls out a small timer, and groans. Break’s over. He takes one last smoke from his cig, before tossing it at a wall, towards an empty container.  Or, what he ASSUMED was an empty container.  Unbeknownst to him, that same day, an equally moronic pony incorrectly delivered an ammunition shipment there instead of the Exchange Wing.  The cigarette flies into the box, and…  “Don’t think I’d forget the time you tried to use a shovel to chop that wood!” Golden says. Twilight laughs, wiping off tears. “In my defense, it was a really sharp shovel! It almost worked, too!” Twilight says.  Golden snickers. “Almost.” She mocks.  The two friends easily made up after their heated moment, sharing some laughs.  Twilight breaths a little sigh of relief, but then sighs and stands up.  “Ah… that was nice, Golden, but I should probably get going. I need to move my stuff into the Aspirant Wing now that I’m actually at that step now.”  Golden stands up as well. “Oh! I can help with that. I wouldn’t mind.”  “Thanks, but I’m not sure that’s necessary. I mean, it’s right there—” BOOOOOM! The two ponies instinctually hit the deck as they hear and feel the explosion in the near distance, air rushing over them and noise rushing into their ears.  A blast bursts out of the side of the Epistrey.  Both ponies flip around, and look with complete shock, as do other nearby civilians and workers. Guards, soldiers, and Pathfinders rush the scene. Some think they’re under attack, but those fears are quickly quelled.  After some brief moments of chaos, the situation stabilizes and calms down a little.  The explosion, thankfully, erupted from a wing nearby the Epistrey, and not the core Epistrey itself. That would've been a disaster. But it still hit was in the near vicinity of it,  Twilight’s eyes widen as she realizes the explosion happened closer to the Aspirant wing, which is right next to the Epistrey for convenience.  As the two join the crowd that formed quickly around, they see people being lifted out of some of the rubble. There’s multiple workers and pathfinders in various states of injury, but thankfully nopony died. Twilight notices the clerk from the Epistrey. He’s charred and burnt, but alive. He groans and coughs smoke as he’s taken away on a stretcher. Some other ponies are brought out as well. She slowly begins to make a realization, seeing the injured. A nearby soldier spells it out for her, though.  “Sir! The Aspirant’s Wing took the main hit! None of them are in any state for today’s expedition!”, a nearby soldier says to his CO, a grizzled and grey-maned earthen.  “Was that all of them?! We REQUIRE one of them for the operation today…!” he barks. Twilight’s face of shock and horror slowly morphs into a smirk. Obviously the explosion is bad and people were hurt and yadda yadda whatever but she’s not one to let an opportunity go to waste like this.  She turns to Golden. “Guess who just moved up the queue.” Twilight says her goodbyes to Golden, but promises to come back. Golden gives her a little-too-tight of a hug.  She strolls into the Exchange Wing of the Compound – a massive, tunnel-like chamber. It’s similar in shape to one of the wings, but without most of the applications for permanent residence such as rooms and whatnot. Like giant airlocks side to side, various gates adorn the exit and entrance of the wing. It’s the only way in or out of the compound, at least the only one noticeable.  She’s almost immediately accosted by a guard, but she smirks and shows him her (temporary) Pathfinder credential. He backs off. Logically, it would make the most sense to use a full Pathfinder in place of an Aspirant if there are no Aspirants (besides Twilight) available, right? That’s the thing, though. Pathfinders are given an even larger degree of freedom compared to their Aspirant predecessors; they can pick and choose to join or not join any Expedition they please.  Strangely, despite a few Pathfinders being present at Charlie Compound none of them volunteered to join this one – something Twilight wasted no time in signing up for, although she does slightly wonder why none of the Pathfinders did.  Due to the volatility of the moment, that being a completely random explosion that happened to clear out the queue, Twilight didn’t have much time to prepare for or learn about the expedition, but she’s confident in her abilities to adapt and deal with whatever comes her way.  She certainly looks a bit out of place, the cheery, slim, and young unicorn in the middle of a large amount of gruff and large soldiers, workers, and guards all hastily making preparations to receive or send out materials or things into the Compound. Some flash her weird looks, but she ignores the few that she is able to detect on her own.  After some more waiting, she notices a small trolley being wheeled in nearby, with a large crate inside. She wonders if it's being sent in or out. There’s a strange amount of soldiers and guards nearby it, though. Twilight thinks about what it could be… Maybe it's something from the outside she’s never seen before? Maybe some rare artifact? What else would prompt that much security? Maybe she could get a peek or even examine- Something inside the cage begins to move. A tall figure. There’s something, no… somePONY inside of it. .  A guard nearby the cage unlatches its multiple locks, swinging its door open. The figure slowly steps out into the fluorescent light of the Wing.  Her yellow mane is a frazzled and mangy mess, and her clothing is little more than rags and a prisoner jumpsuit. Twilight surmises they’re an earthen, judging from the lack of wings or horn, and she certainly lacks any of the elegance associated with either.  She’s covered in various chains and restraints, even a muzzle. What little of the orange body she can make out through the chains and restraints, she looks like she’s covered with various scars, bruises, and cuts. Some of them look fresh.  One guard roughly pulls on the chain, causing the prisoner to nearly trip as she’s forced forward.  Is all that really necessary? How much more dangerous can you be after the first few sets of restraints –  Suddenly, the prisoner yanks on her own chain, pulling the guard who yanked it towards her, before headbutting him. His body sprawls away on the floor. Immediately multiple guards and soldiers descend on her, with a few strikes here and there. She chuckles while being hit, looking down at the fallen guard.  “Serves ya right…” she mutters.  Twilight gulps. Ok, maybe all that is necessary. But why is that thing even here? Twilight can tell they’re one of those Hovels… those backward and violent savages who want nothing more than to keep the Underworld in a perpetual state of ignorance.  A few soldiers arrive around the prisoner and her guards. Their CO, the superior from earlier, pulls out a small form and squints at it.  “Twilight Sparkle! Is there a Twilight Sparkle?” He yells into the wing.  Twilight quickly gets to attention, and rushes over. “Here! I am that Twilight Sparkle.” She says. The superior eyes her up and down, looking from above. He completely dwarfs her. His eyes lock onto her horn. “Unicorn, huh…” he says.  Twilight feels a bit off-put. “...yes?” She says, unsure how to respond. The superior clears his throat. “How proficient are you at combat magic? Any notable spells you got?” He asks. Twilight feels taken aback. “U-uh… Sir… I’m just an Aspirant. I only know basic telekinesis and barriers. Magic isn’t my profession.” Why is he asking this? The superior seems similarly taken aback. He shares some glances with his soldiers. “Hm… proficient with any kind of weaponry?” He asks. “...no?” She asks. She’s definitely getting weirded out now. Why is she being asked these things for just a mere expedition? Sure, the outside of the Compound can be dangerous, but she’s not entering a freaking war! The superior raises a hoof and pulls back to his soldiers. They have a quick exchange of words. Twilight makes out the words “Only one”, “explosion”, “required.” The superior bends over a little to get to eye level with Twilight. She moves back ever so slightly. “Miss, uh… Twilight. Were you informed of the nature of this here… expedition?” He asks. Twilight shakes her head slightly, looking confused. The superior closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath. “This isn’t a regular expedition. This is more like an operation.” He points over to the prisoner, staring off into the void. “That Hovel over there is our POW, and also our one-and-only guide for today. She’s gonna be leading us to her kin so we can ‘pacify’ them…” He says, with a fiery determination.  Twilight feels more shocked than she did after the explosion. Thoughts rush her head.  This is why none of the Pathfinders wanted to join this ‘expedition’! This is a death trap! And they’re bringing that thing with them?! Twilight raises her hooves and shakes them.  “H-hey, woah! I didn’t sign up for… this! There… there has to be some mistake.” She says. The superior raises an eyebrow. “According to this form, you DID.” He raises it to her face, showing her the signature she clearly signed. She face hooves.  “Okay yes I did sign it but— I can't do this! I’m not a soldier or anything like that..!” Twilight says, a bit panicked.  The superior sighs slightly. “You know, we don’t exactly want to bring a non-combative into this either, but we don’t have a choice. It's mandatory for every expedition to have an assigned Aspirant or Pathfinder, and you’re ours for this one.”  That last part was pretty much how it was, but it sure sounded a bit wrong to Twilight. The Superior didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. “There is no backing out of this. Doing so would be TREASON.” He says, a bit sternly. Twilight doesn’t even attempt to go there. She nods her head quickly, biting her lip. The superior raises an eyebrow, but turns away, satisfied with his prep-talk.  “We leave in five, at vehicle bay three. Be there.” He says.  She notices them wheeling off the Prisoner towards said vehicle bay. Twilight just looks blankly ahead with dread as various soldiers and workers continue to move around her.  What has she gotten herself into?