//------------------------------// // Champion Zuko vs home security systems // Story: My Iron Warriors: Ordinance is Magic // by Perturabo //------------------------------// “Remind me again,” Barbus grumbled as he crouched behind the rock. “Why we’re doing this?” “To prove a point.” Zuko didn’t grace his brother with a look. The Aspiring Champion was also crouched, trusting the night to conceal him. His eyes were fixed firmly on the house that lay before them, across the moonlit field. In truth calling it a ‘house’ was inaccurate; from what Zuko could see it was almost as opulent as the Castle, and far bigger than any of the other houses in Ponyville, standing just outside of town. ‘Mansion’ was perhaps more appropriate. Applebloom hadn’t mentioned this Diamond Tiara was rich, but the fact she was explained some things. “Bullshit.” Barbus growled. When Zuko had dragged him out of the training cages and told him to follow him, he’d told Barbus to leave his autocannon behind. It seemed to be pissing him off. “Burning down the town hall? That’d prove a point. Putting their precious princesses’ head on a spike? There’s your message. This seems like a mercy mission for a little girl.” He let the last point hang in the air for a moment. “A little Xenos girl.” Zuko still didn’t look at him. “Have a care, Barb.” He flexed the talons of his power fist in anticipation. “She’s irrelevant. What matters is we re-educate anyone who does what the other Legions did to us. Now, come on.” He rose slightly, starting to move forward. He stopped as a vice-like grip fastened around his wrist. Finally Zuko turned to look at his brother. The glowing optics of their helmets held an unbroken stare. “How long have we fought together?” Barbus asked. His voice wasn’t confrontational, but he didn’t relent. “Ten thousand years real-time, give or take.” Zuko shrugged. It was true; Barbus was the only surviving member of Zuko’s squad from the time of the Crusade, having passed through training and the initiation rites together. Sergeants and other brothers had come and gone, yet in spite of everything they’d managed to hack their way out of whatever mess they were in. After the Heresy Barbus had become the acting sergeant of one of the companies’ Havoc squads, but he was never far from Zuko’s side, and the Champion knew that he relied on the other Astartes more than he cared to admit. He didn’t trust Barbus, no more than he trusted Mordecai, or Lorkhan, or…maybe more than Rorke. But he knew Barbus, and that’s what mattered. “How many times have I steered you wrong?” “Very few.” That was true as well. “So if I tell you you’re acting like a damn Ultramarine running around being all compassionate, and not like an Iron Warrior?” Barbus pressed. Zuko didn’t answer, and for a moment silence reigned. Eventually the Aspiring Champion prised the other Marine’s arm off his own with the power fist. “I’m not going soft, Barbus.” Zuko said as gently as he could manage. “Suggest I am again and I’ll put out your other eye.” Barbus chortled in spite of himself. “But we need to do this. Not for the Pony, for us.” Barbus still looked doubtful for a moment, but before long he sighed, shaking his head. “The things I do for this Legion.” He mumbled, patting the combat knife affixed to his belt. “Iron Within.” Zuko began. “Iron Without.” Barbus finished. They clasped each other’s wrists again, but this time in a gesture of solidarity and not restraint. Without another word the two super-soldiers took a=off across the open plain towards the giant mansion. They moved fast and low, relying on the shadows to hide the worst of their shining silver armour, although the lack of light in any window gave Zuko the hope that all the Xenos were asleep. In a few short minutes, and never accelerating beyond a crouching jog, the two Iron Warriors had made it to the great railings that surrounded the manner grounds. Peering through the bars, Zuko took in the scene before him. The grounds were extensive, the area covered the size of multiples of the cottage Zuko, Barbus and Basikor had torn down. Water trickled soothingly from the mouths of stone fishes and Ponies into waiting fountains, whilst endless flowerbeds bloomed in an eclectic variety of colours. Zuko scanned the grounds for any sign of a security force, but there was none to be found; the Ponies probably thought they had no need of such a force, beyond the Royal Guards. With a thought Zuko brought his power fist to life, electrical energy dancing along the talons. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of one of the iron bars. The weapons power field made short work of the metal, the fist almost passing straight through. As carelessly as one would turn the pages of a book Zuko pulled outwards, tearing the railing before him apart and opening a hole into the garden. Before long, the gap was just big enough for a Space Marine to fit through. Zuko ducked under, taking care to ensure the spike affixed to his power pack that carried the Imperial Fist helm as a trophy didn’t get caught, and took a few cautious steps into the mansion’s grounds. Barbus took a moment longer; two horns curved from the side of his helmet, and he had to turn sideward to fit through the gap. The Iron Warriors moved forward slowly and guardedly, glowing red eyes fixed firmly on one of the back doors. Zuko spun and drew his plasma pistol without thinking as Barbus hissed a curse behind him. When the Champion saw what had happened however, he holstered the gun and gave a disapproving snarl. Barbus had crushed one of the smaller water features underfoot, the stone fragments grinding against one another as he moved his foot away. “Well what did you expect?” he snapped back as he realised Zuko was glowering at him. “I’m Olympian by all the Gods, not Raven Guard. I’m used to going through things.” It was true that Iron Warriors weren’t particularly taught much in the way of stealth, and with its size and constant buzzing power armour was difficult to hide, but Zuko was taking no chances. “Don’t be an arse, Barbus, what if they’d heard us?” “So what?” the other Marine asked. Zuko didn’t dignify that with an answer; partly because when he thought about it he didn’t have one. He focused back on what he was doing, drawing closer to the back door. As they reached it, taking up traditional breaching [position either side, Barbus drew his combat knife. Crouching down before the door, he inserted the blade-sharp end downwards-into the gap opposite the hinges. With one pull downwards the blade had severed the lock clean in half thanks to the Marine’s prodigious strength. Sheathing the blade, Barbus stepped back and pulled on the door handle. It opened almost without a sound. It was a squeeze to fit through the doorframe, but the Iron Warriors arrived into a small, black room. With the dark-piercing optics built into their helmets, they could see that it was in fact a small kitchen. One of many, Zuko had no doubt. Cutlery hung from racks affixed to the ceiling, whilst various bubbling pots of soup stood gently heating on the hobs ready for the morning. Without exchanging words they moved on through the door, passing through pantries, drawing rooms and even a room with a swimming pool. The ground floor was a labyrinth, and even with his eidetic memory Zuko was agitated that they could get lost. More than that, he was certain they would be discovered. At any moment he expected to turn around and be confronted with some cook or menial servant. He didn’t actually have a back-up plan for such an occurrence-it wasn’t like they could hurt him, but this whole affair would run a lot smoother if he wasn’t caught. Yet no Xenos came, and after the seventh set of expensive looking chambers both Zuko and Barbus had begun to relax. Eventually they reached what must have been the foyer. Before them stood a grand, white marble staircase, almost comically oversized when the Ponies’ size was considered. The equally colossal main doors stood opposite the stairs. The decoration the pair of Iron Warriors had observed throughout the house so far was pretty typical of a stately home; red rugs, expensive oak furnishings, photos and old portraits hung from every wall. Barbus approached one now; within the gilded frame was a photo of a brown, tie-wearing stallion, smiling dignifiedly in the centre of a group of other officious-looking Ponies. “Filthy Rich,” The Iron Warrior read. “And the board of executives of Rich’s Barnyard Bargains.” He looked at Zuko, seemingly amused. “Who the hell names their child ‘Filthy’?” “Probably the same ones who come up with ‘Sweetie Belle’, ‘Rainbow Dash’ or ‘Shining Armour’.” Zuko deadpanned. He walked forwards, standing alongside Barbus and examining the picture. The brown Xenos was the same as the one he’d seen in numerous photographs in the rooms they’d come through alongside a small pink, crowned girl-child who he assumed was Diamond Tiara. Curiously, Zuko hadn’t spotted a mother in any of the pictures he’d taken a cursory glance at. Curiosity sated, the pair began to walk up the steps. They tried to move as quietly as possible, taking multiple stairs at a time, but the stone mixed with their ceramite meant that every footfall echoed around the near-empty hall. When they reached the top of the staircase, they were confronted with a long corridor stretching from left to right. Barbus looked at Zuko, the question unsaid. The Champion considered it for a moment. “Left.” He decided upon. They moved even slower than before now, the creak of every step the sound of an explosion in Zuko’s ears. His power armour had saved him more times than he could possibly count, but right now he cursed its bulk. The corridor extended further and further, and although he knew it was an idiotic suggestion Zuko could have sworn the eyes on the paintings that lined the walls were watching him. Barbus’ own eyes were scanning every door they passed, searching for some sign that one belonged to their quarry. “I say, what the dickens are you doi-“ Zuko moved the moment he heard the voice, pirouetting and lashing out with the back of his power fist. It caught the Pony across the face, cutting off whatever it had been saying abruptly. He felt the neck snap almost clean in half, the hard bone of the skull dissolving to nothing under the force of his blow. The body dropped limply to the ground, one leg still twitching. Staring at the body for a moment, Zuko made the effort to control his breathing, before swearing continuously as quietly as he could. Barbus moved over, also staring at the body. Unable to suppress a chuckle, he poked the corpse with the toe of his boot. The Xenos’ head had been practically pulped to nothing by the force of Zuko’s blow, and they were lucky the red carpets hid the blood. The Pony had been some kind of butler, clad in a tuxedo specially designed for quadrupeds. “You’re developing a bad habit of accidentally killing these things, brother.” Barbus whispered. Zuko was in no mood for jokes, his body taut and prepared for them to be found at any moment. Miraculously, no-one came. Exhaling some of his tension, Zuko groaned internally as he considered the implications of what he’d done. “Well that’s excellent.” He moaned. “Even if we get out of her without getting caught, the moment the Ponies find the body they’ll think it was us-“ “-Which it was.” Barbus pointed out. The two Marines were quiet for a moment, minds racing in an attempt to solve the problem. Just when Zuko was about to order the retreat, Barbus crouched down and slung the body over his shoulder. “Trust me.” He whispered chirpily, and before Zuko could protest he’d disappeared down the corridor. The sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed all around. Zuko had infiltrated enemy bases, charged across no-man’s land in thousands of sieges, and fought at the Walls of Terra, but the twenty minutes that Barbus was gone were for some reason some of the tensest of his life. He was as still as a statue, only moving to rub some of the excess blood into the carpet. Eventually Barbus scampered back down the corridor, noticeably sans a corpse. “What did you bloody do?!” Zuko hissed. Barbus responded by clapping a hand on Zuko’s pauldron, and when he spoke his voice was more genuine than the Champion had heard in a long time. “Trust me, it’s not going to get found.” Zuko watched his brother for a moment, wanting to ask more. When it was clear that Barbus wasn’t going to be drawn into elaborating, Zuko relaxed his shoulders in resignation, hoping that Barbus hadn’t finally decided to turn on him. The cigar that was slotted into a pouch on his belt suddenly felt very heavy, and it was only through will that Zuko was able to resist lighting it. They pressed on, taking care to be even quieter from then on. From where they’d come to a stop it didn’t take the Iron Warriors long to come to a door with a silver crown daintily painted on. Wooden blocks spelling out ‘Diamond Tiara’s room’ were hung off it, and the pink doorframe extinguished any lingering doubt in Zuko’s mind that this was the room they were after. He reached out with his ‘regular’ gauntlet, clutching the handle. It felt so small and fragile in his palm. Sharing a nod with Barbus, Zuko pulled down on the handle, pushed the door open, and crept into the dark room. *** The taste of metal brought Diamond Tiara rocketing out of her dreams and back to the real world. Something sharp rested at her throat, and its bite was steel and cold. She squirmed frantically in panic, attempting to move and get free. It was no use; the hand that had clamped over her mouth stifled her screams and prevented her escape. Held on her back in the middle of her four-poster bed, Diamond Tiara desperately looked around the pitch dark room in an attempt to find out what was going on. All she could see was the pair of red eyes glaring down at her. “Scream, and you’re dead.” A deep gravelly voice whispered. It seemed to come through some kind of speaker, the amplification serving only to make it even more intimidating. Diamond Tiara felt tears stinging the corner of her eyes, but nodded weakly. The monster’s red eyes moved up and down, as if it was nodding, and the hand was removed from her mouth-although the knife was still at her throat. For a moment Tiara considered screaming for her father, the butler, anyone. Raw fear made her comply with the creature’s will. The thing holding her moved out of view, and for a moment the filly was staring at a black room Then, the sound of a striking match filled the air, joined a moment later by the light from a flame. The flame moved to light something else, before being shaken out. Whatever was now holding the flaming item—it looked like a cigar, like Father sometimes had-raised it high into the air and inhaled. In the flame’s flickering light Diamond Tiara saw the outline of a head, the curve of an armour plate, although she couldn’t make out any details. The creature exhaled, a puff of smoke barely visible. Tapping a few smouldering embers from the end of the cigar out onto her floor, the creature walked forward, and Tiara noticed despite her terror that it seemed to be taking care to move quietly. As it walked it seemed to snap something that been resting atop its head down into place; something hissed, and two more the evil red eyes Diamond Tiara had seen a moment before came into being. The monster moved towards where she was held, getting even closer to her face than the first had. It kneeled, so the burning red eyes were scant centimetres from her own. “We have…” it said, almost apologetically. “A problem.” He twirled the cigar idly between his fingers, not actually making an effort to smoke it. Diamond Tiara couldn’t help her brow creasing in confusion. “A…problem? But I don’t even know you!” she insisted. The two creatures shared a glance, before the one who was speaking fixed her with a stare again. “It’s come to our attention that you’re an individual who thrives on the achievements of others.” It said. The tone of the voice had shifted now, to an icy calm with clear threat running underneath. “That is unfortunate for you.” As he spoke, the one holding the knife twisted it so the tip of the blade just punctured her flesh. Red, coppery liquid began to trickle out, and now the tears flowed in force. The one with the cigar watched her discomfort for a moment, seemingly neither condoning nor enjoying it. Eventually he dropped the tobacco stick, reached to his waist and produced something with coils that glowed a dull red. “Do you know what a plasma pistol does, little one?” he asked. Tiara shook her head. “They were developed just before the Dark Age of technology, when mankind had a better grasp of the technology he commanded.” The monster explained. “the coils here react to fire a bolt akin to the centre of a star. Oh very dangerous of course, and the damage they can do to the wielder if the cooling apparatus is not maintained is considerable, but what they leave of what they hit is…well, best your young ears don’t hear it.” Diamond Tiara didn’t understand anything he’d just said, but slowly understanding was beginning to dawn. “You…you’re the Iron Warriors.” She said breathlessly. “You’re like, those guys who crashed in that spaceship.” “You learn fast.” The lead Iron Warrior agreed. Before Diamond Tiara could ask any more questions, he rested the muzzle of the gun in the centre of her forehead. She squeaked and cried even more, but still didn’t shout out. When the alien spoke he practically spat the words. “Listen to me, you little shit. I know you have a presentation at your school tomorrow, and I know you’ve done none of the work for it. If I hear anything about you getting all the glory…even the slightest whisper…I swear to the Gods I will show you exactly why we call Vortun an ‘Obliterator’, do you understand me you miserable piece of Xenos filth?” She nodded as furiously as her neck would allow, somehow finding herself unable to look away from the staring eyes. After studying her for a moment longer, the Iron Warrior stood, still looking down at her. “Actually, just take all of tomorrow off.” He suggested in a voice that made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion. “And it goes without saying that this never happened.” The knife was removed rom her throat and she breathed out heavily, rubbing where it’d pierced the skin. The Iron Warrior that had been speaking to her turned around, but instead of leaving he paced over to one of her side tables. Diamond Tiara watched in confusion as he rummaged through her stuff, casting aside expensive and fabulous jewellery or perfumes like they were nothing. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for-a book. From what she could see as her eyes grew used to the dark, it was tiny in his hands. She didn’t know what it was or what he wanted with it, but if it got him out the alien was welcome to it. Yet the moment the pair’s backs were turned, the filly’s confidence began to grow again, and with it came her doubts. He’d known about the presentation, and had taken a book…could it be Applebloom’s Diary? The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She’d managed to steal that stupid little blank-flanks diary when she’d had to go to to their smelly farm, and it would be just like Applebloom to get someone else to fight her battles. If she’d joined up with the Iron Warriors…oh, was she ever in for it. As soon as the other kids found out no one would talk to her. Maybe even Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle would keep their distance. She’d be the least popular kid in school! Despite what was happening, Diamond Tiara smiled at how clever she was-turning such a terrifying experience to her advantage. “I won’t call anyone,” she promised as the Iron Warriors moved to leave. Her voice was shaky, but she was determined to overcome it. “But you’re like, an idiot if you think no-one’s gonna’ find you. They’ve probably all heard you in here anyway.” She immediately regretted her confidence as the two pairs of eyes turned to look at her again. Diamond Tiara curled up in a ball, covering her face with her hooves and whimpering “I’m sorry” in a shallow voice repeatedly. Yet nothing happened. In fact, when she dared look up, the one with the pistol actually seemed to be considering what she’d said. The talons of the massive fist attached to his left hand tapped the chin of his helmet thoughtfully. “You’re right.” He agreed, to her surprise. With a speed that took the filly completely off guard the one with the knife leaned over and yanked her out of bed. His hand covered her mouth again, silencing Tiara’s hollers. “We’ll need a distraction.” *** The moment they’d snuck out the heavy front doors of the mansion and closed them as quietly as they could behind, Zuko and Barbus abandoned all pretence of stealth. The Astartes sprinted down the paving stones that led to the front gate, Zuko’s bionic legs easily eating up the distance and putting him just ahead. The diary hung in the empty spare pistol holster he’d brought, swaying back and forth from his belt. The leapt in unison as they reached the gate, strong hands wrapping around the tops of the railings and pulling them over so as to vault the metal bars in a single jump. They were moving again the moment they landed, seeking to put as much ground between them and the building as possible. “I was wrong.” Barbus voxed, and Zuko could hear his grin. “That was the most fun I’ve had in ages.” The Champion didn’t reply, nor did he slow when he cast a glance over his shoulder. By now he could just detect a commotion within the mansion at the edge of his hearing, and several windows now had light streaming from them; but no-one was following, and the Iron Warrior chose to capitalise on that. They were a good fifty metres away from the immediate danger zone and heading back to Ponyville when Barbus voxed again. “I hate to be pedantic brother, but what exactly do you intend to do now you’ve got the book?” “We need to get to the school before she does her presentation.” Zuko said breathlessly, still focusing on the run. “Keep up, Barbus.” Barbus was silent for a moment, before the vox-link erupted with laughter. Zuko heard his companion’s footfalls cease behind him. He skidded to a halt, turning and reflexively engaging his power fist. Barbus stood quite afraid, arms folded and shaking his head as he chuckled. “What the hell are you doing? We don’t have time to stop.” Barbus looked at Zuko for a moment, broke out in another fit of chuckles and rubbed his eye lenses with the tip of thumb and forefingers. Looking back at the champion, he pointed east. The first of the sun’s rays were only just beginning to crest the mountain tops of the horizon, painting the previously black sky a bloody shade of red. “Me and Varvillon did some investigating.” He explained. “School doesn’t start for five hours yet.” *** Every tick of the second hand rang painfully loud through Applebloom’s head. She sat almost completely rigid on her disk, eyes fixed firmly on the clock that hung on the wall; moving only to fidget nervously. She didn’t even listen to her two classmates droning on at the front. “Calm down, will ya?” Scootaloo whispered to her left. The orange filly’s eyes shone with both confusion and sympathy. “You can totally do this without Diamond Tiara, no sweat.” Applebloom spun to face her, grinding her teeth together. Scootaloo recoiled slightly. “Calm down?” The earth pony hissed. “How can ah calm down? It’s meant tah be a group project, it can’t be a group if it’s just me! Besahds, ah don’t wanna go up there bah mahself!” “There were more ponies watching when we did the talent show.” Sweetie Belle pointed out. “And besides, you probably did most of the work anyway.” “But ah didn’t know most of them ponies.” Applebloom said dejectedly, practically slamming her face into the desk. “Ah didn’t have tah see ‘em again, and if I say something stupid now ah’ll be the laughing stock of the school!” She couldn’t believe it. Diamond Tiara had been there pretty much every day for the past year, teasing the Crusaders about being blank flanks. What were the chances that, the only time Applebloom actually needed her, she’d fallen down the stairs in the middle of the night and broken a hoof? What was she even looking for? She’d almost be willing to give up any hope of getting her diary back if it meant the other half of her team was here. Applebloom’s despair was so great that she almost didn’t hear Ms. Cheerilee calling her name. “Wh-what?” She stammered, lifting her head. The whole class was looking at her, Cheerilee from behind her desk included. “Isaid it’s your turn to present, Applebloom dear.” Applebloom’s heart caught in her throat. She looked around for any succour, but there was none to be found. Desperately, she put on her best concerned smile. “Oh, u, ah’d love to Ms Cheerilee, but y’see…what ah mean is, ah’m just so worried ‘bout Dahmond Tiara that ah don’t think ah’ll be able to do the presentation without her!” She grinned toothily, sweat beading on her forehead. Cheerilee smiled, and for a moment Applebloom dared to hope she had her. “Oh that’s touching dear,” her face turned grave. “but I’m afraid we can’t afford to delay your presentation. I have to get these marks in today. I’m sure Diamond Tiara would want you to go on without her.” There was no way out of it. Sighing in defeat, Applebloom shuffled to the edge of her chair. She looked up at Sweetie Belle, who gave her a reassuring smile, but the filly wasn’t convinced. Just as her hooves were about to touch the ground, the classroom door was practically flung on its hinges. Sweetie Belle squeaked in fear, Cheerilee practically jumped out of her skin and Twist almost fell of her chair. Applebloom, along with many of the others, just stared as Zuko ducked into the room, padding forwards slowly and awkwardly. The spike with the helmet on his back almost stabbed into the ceiling, and he had to stoop to fit in. He rubbed the back of his own helmet with that massive oversized claw in the closet thing to nervousness she’d yet seen from him. The kids stared wide eyed and open mouthed in awe, and he stared back, meeting all their eyes in turn and shifting uncomfortably where he stood. Cheerilee, to her credit, rallied well. “Oh, uh, w-what a surprise mister…” It took him a moment to look at her. “Zuko.” He answered in a gruff voice. “Zuko, right, of course.” Cheerilee cleared her throat, affecting her best ‘teacherly’ accent. “Class, I want you to say hello to Mr Zuko, who I’m sure has a very good reason for joining us this morning.” “Good morning Mr Zuko.” The fillies chorused. To Applebloom’s surprise, they didn’t sound scared for the most part; only as enthralled and fascinated to find out what an alien super-solider was doing in their classroom as she was. Zuko gave a small wave back, although it was clear that he didn’t want to be here. “Urm…hey. How you doing.” He looked around again, seemingly unsure what to do next. Finally his red eyes settled on Archer’s desk. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing at a loose piece of paper. “Your drawing, what is it? It looks like a volkite culverin. Not seen one of them since Tallarn” he mumbled the last part, as if talking to himself, before twisting slightly to get a better look at the picture. “You’ve got the basic shape down…and the barrel’s fairly accurate…but you’re missing cooling vents in a few places.” “It’s a boat.” Archer said, still staring at Zuko in wonder. “Oh.” The Iron Warrior backed off slightly, and lapsed back into silence. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his helmet again. “I like your boat.” He said at last, pointing. “That is a nice boat.” Archer didn’t respond. It was Cheerille who broke the quiet. Her voice was a bit stronger now, although she was still as far away from Zuko as she could get. “Well, that’s very nice of you to say, Mr Zuko. But I’m afraid I am going to have to ask again why you’re here.” He looked at her blankly for a moment, before starting a little and mumbling “Oh, right.” His head swivelled until the two blazing red coals were settled on Applebloom. She gasped, eyes widening even further as she felt Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo’s questioning gazes bore into her. Zuko shuffled forward towards her, having to go slowly to avoid knocking any desks over. As he moved he fiddled with a leather pouch attached to his belt. Eventually, he produced a small book, drumming on the back cover with his fingers. Applebloom’s mouth went dry; could it be… He stopped right before her desk, placing the volume delicately on the wood. Sure enough, ‘Applebloom’s diary’ was scrawled clumsily across the top. She looked down at it, before looking back up at him. The helmet was as emotionless as always. “How…how did ya…” . “You dropped it.” He said, a little too quickly. “Yeah, uh, you dropped it…outside…somewhere.” He coughed, looking around. Applebloom could hear the lie in his words, and a few things started to add up in her mind, but she chose to keep silent. Zuko was silent too, before coughing again and turning. He moved as quickly as he could, seemingly eager to get out and only stopping when he reached Cheerilee’s desk. “Oh yeah, that was it.” He said, pointing at Applebloom. “I’m pretty sure she did most of the work for her project, and is just too modest to admit it. You should give her a …well, whatever it is you give things that are good here.” Looking around once more, he turned and moved towards the door. He was almost outside when Applebloom called out, extending a hoof towards him. “Wait!” The Iron Warrior stopped, and looked at her. Applebloom stared back, unsure of what to say for a moment. “Thank yah.” Was what she eventually managed. Zuko didn’t reply, but after a few drawn-out seconds nodded. Without a word he ducked under doorframe. Applebloom watched him go through the window; walking at first, but quickly breaking into a run as soon as he could. She looked back towards the board, aware of the whole classes’-including Cheerilee’s-eyes on her. The teacher cleared her throat again, shaking her head as if to dispel her confusion and try to restore order. “Well that was…strange.” She admitted. “I’m afraid you’ll still have to present, Applebloom.” Applebloom had been expecting it, but found that her fear had left her. With a cry of “yes ma’am!” she took the saddlebag containing her presentation props and trotted to the front of the room. As she set up though, the presentation was the last thing on her mind; instead, she thought about just what Zuko had done for her. Applejack had always taught her the importance of fairness and being gratuitous when somepony helped you out, and Applebloom knew she needed to thank Zuko. More importantly, she knew how.