//------------------------------// // 2. The Grapevine // Story: Machinations // by TheLoneWombat //------------------------------// I looked at the holo-cyrstal in my hoof, my mind made up. “How do I work this thing?” I asked Nightshade, turning the crystal over and seeing no obvious way of activating it. Couldn't they have just slapped a big red button on it or something? “Simply press the side of the crystal against your temple” she informed me, her trademark smile back in position. “Although I do suggest you get comfortable first, your going to be out for a while when you’re viewing it.” “It’s going to knock me out?” I asked with a degree of concern. “Are you sure this is safe to watch like this?” “Of course. It’s not usually meant to be viewed by one pony at a time, but since we don’t have a light caster with us you’ll have to make do. I’ll keep a watch whilst you’re in there, it should only take a few minutes real-time.” Still slightly sceptical, I held the crystal close to my forehead. I could feel the heat bleeding off the arcane construct warming my face and watched the distorting effect of the air around it as I examined my reflection. I’d made my intentions clear; it was too late to back out now without looking like a complete moron. So with a deep breath and expecting the worst, I brought the crystal in contact with my forehead. ____________________________________________ I... honestly don’t know what I was expecting Perhaps seeing rushing stars go flying past my head as my conscious raced towards a guiding light would have been more dramatic, or appearing as a ghost in a room watching everything going on from a third perspective, maybe even seeing the recording through the eyes of a pony who was recording it would have been more what I had envisioned before going into the crystal. I might as well have waited for that light caster; it was just like watching a recording, if a little more immersive. As it was, in my minds eye I was looking into the same office in the aerodrome that Nightshade had just broken into, albeit from the perspective of a recoding device sat upon the captain’s desk. The recording eye was facing the large window looking out upon the aerodrome landing pads, large shadows cast across the open ground and crept up the side of the one airship still stationed there. I tried to turn my view with no success, my peripheral vision was hazy and bled into the same blue / lilac hue that the crystal itself emitted when I tried to look anywhere other than directly in front of me. The recording shook slightly and changed both zoom and focus, as though someone were adjusting the settings and moving the device around. It was a little uncomfortable and disorientating when your whole perspective got shook about like a goldfish in a water bag, but fortunately for me the sensation didn’t last long. A dark grey Pegasus in military dress stepped out into the view of the recording, turned once on the spot and saluted the camera, holding the position for a second or two before relaxing. “Captain Rolling Thunder providing intelligence for the Celestial Union governing committee, dated 31st August 1216.” “My Lords, we recently received news from the New Luna Motherland. It appears that the Premier saw our attempt to undermine his powerbase by appealing to the populace, and as you are aware our operative in the region went silent a few weeks ago.” The captain took a moment to collect himself, and released a long breath of air to keep his voice steady. “…My Lords, it is with regret that I inform you that Operative Swift Step was publicly executed on 29th August 1216. Video evidence follows.” My viewpoint suddenly cut to a scene of barely restrained fury, as a mob of ponies shouted abuse at the light blue earth pony shackled to a large wooden pole fixed to the middle of a stage. The captive stallion was trying his best to get away from the crowd, but with both of his legs in bonds wrapped around the pole itself, it seemed like a hopeless task. The video was shaking slightly due to the recording eye being held by hoof from a member of the onlookers, and the angry mob of ponies pushing in on whoever was recording wasn’t helping much, but the look of pure terror and despair on the face of the captive was plain to see. A deep red unicorn stood next to the prisoner, a six-barrelled revolver held aloft in his magic field. The unicorn was shouting something out over the crowd, but the mindless noise generated by the mob made his words unintelligible, the crowd barely seemed to register that the unicorn was trying to address them at all as they focused completely upon the bound captive. Seeing that words alone would not hold the attention of the gathered ponies, the unicorn slowly started to lower his weapon towards the head of the prisoner. The crowd began to gradually fall silent as they watched the descending revolver, until the courtyard was quiet enough that you could barely hear the sobs of the prisoner as the weapon came to rest against his head. The prisoner forced his eyes closed as he prepared for the end. 'Click’ “Ohhhhhhhh!!!” the crowd cried out as one. The revolver had cycled onto an empty chamber and not fired, the crowd vocalising their disappointment as the captive looked around in confusion. Tears were streaking down his face even though he was unsure as to what had just happened, his head frantically turning this way and that, trying to figure out who or what had saved him. Then the unicorn began to slowly lower the revolver towards the captive again, the crowd fell silent, and as it’s barrel rested once more against the now frantic prisoner’s head I began to understand; They wanted to give the prisoner some sliver of hope, before yanking it away as one final torment. ….. 'Click’ “Ohhhhhhhh!!!” ….. 'Click’ “Ohhhhhhhh!!!” ….. BANG The revolver discharged at point blanc range straight into the captive’s head, scorching the fur closest to the muzzle and sending a spatter of blood out into the crowd, who cheered all the louder for the gruesome display. “YEAAAAHHH!!!” The lump of meat that had once been a living being fell limp, slumping against the pole it was still tied to as the mob around the stage yelled and stomped their hooves in glee. At first I couldn’t feel anything, I was so shocked at what I had just witnessed that I was unsure if what had happened was real. This had to be some sort of sick joke or fabrication, there was no way that any sane pony could witness that and react in the same manner as the crowd had. And yet the horde cheered on. Then I felt it; nausea creeping through the pit of my stomach as I came to realise that not only had that prisoner been mercilessly executed, the ponies surrounding him had been calling for his bloody end, taking joy from the execution made entertainment. The red unicorn with the revolver stepped over to the crumpled body of the captive, before grabbing his head and twisting it so that the crowd could see the half of his face that was missing, before pumping his free hoof into the air. I felt sick to the core. I’d heard stories coming out of the Motherland, and I had always assumed them to be exaggerated to make us more afraid of them, but this? This was monstrous. I wasn’t aware that ponies had it in them to be so appalling. The video cut back to the captain who began speaking again, he was saying about something about the captive but I found it too hard to pay attention. I couldn’t shake the image of the cavity in the prisoners head and the crowd’s reaction from my thoughts. I felt ashamed to be a part of the same species as those creatures. “…My Lords, I request that no more operatives be sent into the Motherland. The Premier always seems to know when we are coming, and until we find out how he’s doing it sending more of our ponies in would be handing them a death sentence.” The captain began to pace along the window, turning on the spot just before moving out of shot of the recording eye and pacing in the other direction. “My Lords I must also report on the Gryphon Kingdoms. Or more to the point, I’m concerned about the lack of reports coming out of there at all. The Kingdoms have been silent for a while.” “As you are aware, the last we knew they were still squabbling between each other, which had allowed us to create alliances and secure trade routes with a number of separate factions, but if they have all gone silent…” The Captain stopped pacing as if thinking for a moment before facing the recording eye. “My Lords, I fear that an event of significant importance is happening within the Gryphon’s boarders. I have no idea as to what it could be yet, but if all of the separate kingdoms that we are in contact with are going quiet, it can only mean they are all either being subjugated or annihilated, perhaps both.” “If the kingdoms fall we could lose security in the region to whatever they may be facing, we might even be on the receiving end of a refugee problem. But more concerning, is the possibility that the Gryphons are being united… and I shudder to think at what the consequences of that would be for us all.” The captain began his pacing once more, his most worrying thought apparently taken off his chest “One final thing My Lords, I’ve been made aware of a group known as the Ordo Solis which is becoming increasingly active in Canterlot. Whilst they seem to pose no threat to the Union itself, their practices are… troubling. They appear to be attempting to recruit as many ponies of influence from all walks of the union, and they have certainly made our informant uneasy. I request permission to dispatch additional operatives to investigate this movement as soon as they become available.” And with that, the captain of the Wonderbolts returned to position in front of the recording eye, and saluted the device once more. “So concludes the weekly report of Captain Rolling Thunder. May Celestia see fit to walk amongst us once more.” ____________________________________________ I snapped back to consciousness almost as soon as the recording ended, taking as many deep breaths as I could to try and calm my racing heart. That was all to real for me to be comfortable with, it had felt like i had been stood right there in the crowd. Whilst i knew the footage was days old and that Swift Step - a pony whom i had never known had exsisted - was long dead, the helplessness i had felt from being unable to do anything other than stand by and watch as his life was stolen from him was overwhelming. I dimly became aware of a presence next to me, and looked up to see Nightshade standing over me with a look of concern on her face. “Pathfinder, Are you alright? You were curling up and dry heaving for a while there. What did you see?” It took me a while before I felt in any fit state to answer her, gulping down as much of the early morning air as I could in order to dispel the dizziness in my head. “I saw… I saw Rolling Thunder, he was just talking to the recorder but then it changed to something from the Motherland…” I must have looked a real mess, as Nightshade actually recoiled slightly and took a half step back when I looked at her. “I saw them murder a pony. On a stage, in front of a crowd… They cheered, Nightshade.” Nightshade looked a little uncomfortable and unsure with what to do with herself, but she settled on kneeling down next to me and resting a hoof on my shoulder. “Equis is a darker place than you think, Pathfinder. Just be glad you’re lucky enough not to have been in that pony’s position.” I took another minute to gather my thoughts and calm myself down before standing to my hooves. Nightshade was right, Equis was a more dangerous place than I had believed, but I had also learned something more than just a brutal lesson in pony nature. The last time we had seen the gryphons outside of their own territories was just after the Fall of the Gods. They had sensed a weakness in what was then the remnants of the nation of Equestria and decided to try and take from us what they could. We’d had minor skirmishes with them since then along our boarders as Old Forty would tell anyone who listened, and I made a point to myself to ask him about his experience with the gryphons the next time I saw the old geezer. What could be going on over there? The gryphons have always fought for dominance over each other but a definitive ruler never emerged for long before another kingdom undercut him and reset the balance. What I really knew nothing about was this Ordo Solis group. Based on Thunder’s report it sounded to me like they weren’t exactly all sunshine and rainbows, but his description of them hadn't exactly been detailed, as he appeared to have only just been informed of them himself. I’d try to find out more about them if I could, but I stored that thought away for a later time. I trotted over to Nightshade, who had decided to give me some space whilst I collected myself. She was gazing into the blue and lilac hues of the holo-crystal, a look of unease on her features. “What now?” I asked her, wanting to get this over and done with so I could hit the hay as soon as possible. Maybe even actually drink a cider instead of just ordering one. “Now, we get this back to Grapevine as soon as possible.” Nightshade placed the crystal inside her saddlebags. “…For what it’s worth Pathfinder, I think you made a good call. It may not have been pleasant to see, but information of that calibre is hard to come by for free these days.” After we descended the staircase back down to street level, we found an empty locomoted carriage waiting by the roadside; both side doors open revealing the single large compartment inside. This was an expensive piece of arcane science; dark hardwood making up the chassis and exterior structure, with the rest of the carriage body painted gold. No pony in their right mind would leave it open at the best of times, let alone outside The Hound in the early hours of the day. I turned to Nightshade to ask her what she made of it, but she was already halfway inside by the time I opened my mouth. She looked at my expectantly from the interior of the carriage as I stood still on the pavement. “…Do you really need to ask who left this for us?” Judging by the green highlights along the carriage which looked suspiciously like vines, I guessed that no, I didn’t need to really. I climbed aboard, the double doors shutting behind me the instant I did, and the carriage smoothly pulled away from the corner of the road all by itself. The thing’s driver still hadn’t returned when we pulled off, so how it could move on its own as well as know where it was taking us was a complete mystery to me, so I drummed it up to the usual reason why things in the Union worked when they shouldn’t. Magic. We passed a sentinel patrol as we continued on to our mysterious destination, the two ponies inside their own locomoted carriage paying us no attention as we glided past. Perhaps they assumed that if you were rich enough to own your own self-propelled magic carriage that you were obviously a completely first-rate law abiding citizen. Or one of their unofficial sponsors, either of those was fine. Our carriage took a turn leading out of the main city and heading towards Canterlot’s industrial sector. Large, hideous factory buildings were placed alongside the great mineral mines, with large scale earth movers cutting into the very mountain that the city of Canterlot itself perched upon the edge of. The industrial district was a feature of Canterlot that the city often tried to hide from the tourists, but on a particularly dry day the dust clouds generated by the rotary maws of the earth movers made the machinery almost impossible to ignore. With the discovery that the city had been placed next to an immense crystal deposit, and with the advancements in arcane science, a demand for the raw materials hidden within the mountainside was far greater than the outbursts of protestors to mechanisation. Personally I had to question the logic of carving a massive hole into the only geometrical feature that was holding the city aloft, but I’m just a common pony, what did I know? “I can’t help but notice” I said as a gazed out the carriage window at the huge piles of rubble slowly being stacked behind the earth movers. “That this would be an excellent place to make a pony vanish” I caught a glance of a pair of fangs gleaming from the opposite end of the carriage, bright enough to be half-reflected past the stands of my brown mane and into my vision by the window. “Hmmm, doubtful. Grapevine likes to hang on to tools that could prove useful. As long as they stay that way, that is.” As much as I disliked the idea of being referred to as a tool, I couldn’t come up with a decent response to that. Not without sounding like the very object I would be attempting to deny being, that is. I noticed a small gathering of ponies in suits around the entrance of one of the factory buildings with red brick walls. The majority of them were a mixture of dull colours, but most of their bodies were hidden behind the black suits and shades that they wore, as was the expected attire for your typical run-of-the-mill goons. I mean come on, the sun wasn’t even up yet and you’re wearing shades? How do you expect your guard to protect you if he can’t see anything? In the middle of four heavies in suits stood a unicorn with a dark green coat, cream cut back mane, burgundy waistcoat and an honest-to-Celestia monocle perched in front of his left eye. “Well” I reasoned to myself as the carriage crawled to a stop in front of the group. “This certainly isn’t going to be the janitor that we’re meeting then.” I let Nightshade out of the carriage first, and as I climbed out the Gentlecolt with the monocle raised his right fore hoof in a friendly gesture. “Ah, welcome my dear boy! So good to finally meet you in the flesh, as it were.” He offered out his raised limb, and I gave it a quick shake with a yellow hoof of my own. Nothing too over the top, I wanted to stay in this guy’s good graces after all. “Mr Grapevine, I presume?” “Bah, is it that obvious? I mean the location, security, and transportation aside I like to believe I keep fairly incognito.” I raised an eyebrow at that statement and cast my eyes across the cliché location, easily identifiable thugs, and the less than stealthy carriage that brought us here. I had to believe this guy was pulling my leg. No way could you run a secret information empire and not learn the meaning of subtlety along the way. “Ah, but where is my hospitality? Come in my boy, come in. Then we can have a closer look at this trinket that you’ve brought for me.” With that Grapevine turned on his heels and took a few steps before throwing open the doors to the factory floor. As Nightshade and I followed him inside, one pair of the heavies on the door stepped in to close the doors behind us, leaving a set of guards on either side. Inside was a trio of green leather chairs (actual leather, I suspected) set up in a space on the factory floor, in-between several industrial size steel rollers with a small conveyer belt leading into the mouths of each mechanical behemoth. I eyed the rollers cautiously as I took a seat in one of the chairs. After all, those things were designed to take a steel slab in at one end and produce very thin steel plate at the other. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop my head imagining what such a machine could do to a pony were they to be fed into those rollers. Grapevine tapped his hooves together to recapture my attention. “Now then, I believe you have gone to great efforts to retrieve something for me.” With his eyes fixed in my direction, Grapevine extended his left hoof towards the other chair. “Miss Nightshade, if you please.” Nightshade rummaged around in her saddle bag for a moment, before lifting out the holo-crystal from within. Once the distinctive hue of the crystal registered with Grapevine, he took his eyes off me to accept his prize. “… Ah, such a pretty little bauble, is it not? I take it that when its absence is discovered the Union will believe that it already has a suspect?” Nightshade nodded her confirmation, eyes pointed slightly downwards as if she was unsure if it was her place to speak aloud. “Excellent! I can already feel several gears sliding into place. Perhaps I will even receive a message from dear Blueblood asking if I might spirit him away in the night to another continent” Grapevine turned the crystal over in his hooves, before casting his gaze in my direction. “Now Mr. Pathfinder, I find myself in the need to enquire, are you aware of the contents of this device?” I faltered slightly, Grapevine was staring intently at me, his piercing gaze examining me to rout out any signs of deception. “I am aware… Sir.” I replied, attempting to meet his eyes to try and convey the truthfulness to my words. “I watched it back before we got into the carriage that took us here.” “… I see.” Grapevine continued to play with the crystal, pressing a hoof to each of the largest points of opposite sides of the crystal and using his magic to twirl it upon its axis. “Hmmm… You strike me as the kind of pony who can take an opportunity when he sees one, but only if it’s presented to you on a platter.” Grapevine said to no-one in particular, still gazing into the crystal as it spun between his hooves. “I can make use for one such as yourself, a small amount of oppertunistic thinking on the fly is a trait which has become increasingly rare as time advances.” Grapevine exerted a little more pressure on the crystal, and it immediately stopped spinning. “Yes…” he pocketed the crystal in the front pocket of his waistcoat before turning to look at me once more. “You’ll do just fine. I have a proposition for you, dear fellow.” Grapevine rose from his chair and onto his hooves and began walking through the building, motioning for us to do the same. We were progressing deeper into the building, beyond the steel rollers and past other forms of heavy machinery, some of which I could identify and some that I could not even begin to guess the function of. Grapevine began to speak, bringing my attention away from the unnerving industrial giants flanking either side if us. “If your business is not growing, it is dying. And I have absolutely no intentions of letting my resources go to waste. So when I hear of both a demand in the market and an opportunity to supply I leap at the chance. It seems that the upper crust of Canterlot craves more than just knowledge, they require certain services also.” At some point the heavies guarding the door had begun to follow us as we walked, I wouldn’t have been aware of their presence if not for the sound of their heavy hoof-falls. “I would be a fool not to exploit a gap in the market when one presents itself, so we began to run a small distribution operation within one of the… how should I put this… neglected, districts of the city.” “Oh the operation is wonderfully simple, it practically runs itself, but one of my staff happened to notice how easily the conversations of punters were to hear even when standing outside of their transportation. And I realised, where ponies were talking and going largely unheard, I was missing an opportunity.” Grapevine suddenly stopped in place and turned on the spot to face both Nightshade and I. “I loathe a missed opportunity. A day or so hence, I want you both to aid my operation. You will be there to remain unnoticed and listen; its amazing what ponies of influence will say when they think that no-one can hear them.” “Hold on” I interjected, “You want us to stand around all night and just try and pick up on the idle gossip of random ponies?” Grapevine shook his head “No gossip is idle Mr. Pathfinder; you just need to understand how best to use it. I merely want you to gain as much useful knowledge as possible. My products attract an above average clientele who will inadvertently become my highly-placed informants. I trust that you will exploit any opportunities that present themselves.” “He wants us to get close to them without them ever sensing our presence.” Nightshade explained for me. “If we just stood on the street corner we’d be doing no more than his usual guys and the buyers would know that they’re being listened to. We need to get close to the carriages so we can hear the occupants clearly and catch the whole conversation.” “I couldn’t have found better words myself!” Grapevine positively beamed at Nightshade. “I look forward to learning what transpires, Nightshade will find you when we require your services Mr. Pathfinder.” “Now I do hope you will excuse me” Grapevine tapped his fore hooves together to summon his two moving mountains to his side. “But I believe I am overdue an appointment with an old acquaintance, and I must bid you a good day.” And with that, Grapevine tipped his head to us before leaving with his entourage. As both he and his bodyguards left the building through a door at the far end of the factory floor, I turned to look at Nightshade. “Well he was… surprisingly cheery.” “And he always will be, so long as you keep being the bearer of good news.” Nightshade tapped a hoof against my shoulder before nodding back to the door we originally came in from. “Come on, the sun will be up by now, and you’ll need some rest for his next job.” “It’s that time already?” Sure enough, as we opened the doors leading to the outside world the sky above was the light blue of the early morning, the sun itself was still hidden from sight but identifiable by the golden sheen in the atmosphere surrounding a group of clouds beyond the mountain ranges. As I looked around, I noticed that even with Grapevine’s unusual hospitality, the carriage that delivered us here was nowhere to be seen, chances were that it was probably ferrying Grapevine to his next destination. Such is the glamorous lifestyle of a crime boss; travelling from one out of the way and discrete location to the next. Nightshade was consumed in heatless green flames as she assumed a public face that I’d seen before, an orange pegasus with a sky-blue mane. She’d always preferred to be in disguise that meant she could still keep the use of her wings, it allowed her to leave in a moments notice without anybody questioning it,. “How do you think that went?” I asked her as we began the long walk out of the manufacturing district. “I think you were exactly what he expected; as much as he likes to hold all the cards, he was certainly seeking a pony with some intuition. He wouldn’t have told me to offer you a chance to peek into the crystal otherwise.” “He certainly wasn’t the type of pony I was expecting, usually the ponies I’ve met that are pulling the strings tend to err more on the side of unbridled power trips. He seemed like the type to ask politely and hand out second chances if he thought you’d still be helpful.” “Don’t for one minute think that he’s not dangerous.” Nightshade looked at me sharply. “He may appear pleasant enough, but that’s only because he’s figured that’s the best way to deal with you. Sure, I’ve seen him be a genuine gentlecolt at times, but you tell him something he doesn’t want to hear and he’ll personally break every one of your knees.” I remembered how Nightshade couldn’t look Grapevine in the eye when he addressed her. It takes a hell of a lot to make Nightshade shut up at the best of times, how could that one pony suddenly turn her into an obedient pet without even breaking his friendly persona? I knew Nightshade too well to think that this was just a showing of professional respect, these two had history. “You’ve known him a while then?” “Know?” Nightshade gave a humourless laugh “I’ve worked with Grapevine for over a year now. But the instant I think I’ve finally got him figured out he goes and does something that throws everything I thought he was out the window. I don’t think anyone could truely know him.” I caught onto her dour mood as she spoke, I would have had to have been completely oblivious to my friend not to. Her tail drooped closer to the ground with every word and she seemed to lose the very spark that made her… well, her. “I never know if I’m doing a good job or not, he’s about as quick to praise me as he is to insult me. It’s a little scary not knowing what he’ll do next.” I put a hoof on her shoulder, concerned that my usually cheerful and joking friend had become so down just from talking about a pony. “…Are you alright? I can let this go you’d like.” She must have realised that she was telling me more than she should, as her head picked up the instant I spoke. “Yeah, I’m fine. Look, I really should be getting back; if I don’t get home before I’m missed I’m going to be short on breakfast for a few days until I can find a replacement." “Celestia forbid you don’t get to be fed by whichever poor sod you convinced to let you stay with them.” I patted a hoof on her back to try and lift her spirits “Take care of yourself Nightshade.” “I shouldn’t need too, that’s what stallions are for.” Nightshade flashed me a brief smile to let me know she was ok before spreading her wings. “Catch you around, Pathfinder” With a few flaps of her wings, Nightshade took off into the city. The sun finally peeked around the corner of the distant clouds, and the golden aurora of the early morning light reflecting from Canterlot’s towers soon hid her from my sight. I’d never say it to her face, but I worried about that changeling sometimes. A hundred years or two ago and a thought like that would have likely caused me a very painful death as a sympathiser of the enemy. And whilst ponykind as a whole still distrusted the changelings, I figured that I shouldn’t judge her for her race's past actions. After all, I couldn’t help but be reminded that ponykind wasn't clean of the sins which my ancestors did to her people. As I neared the undeclared boundaries between the different districts of Canterlot city, its inhabitants began to show more and more signs of life as they began to realise that the new day was upon them and time was a-wasting. Me? I just wanted to get home, grab a shower, and then crawl back into bed to enjoy as much sleep as I could before my broken body clock told me it was time to get up again. Think that cider might have to wait until I’m awake enough to enjoy it. ____________________________________________ Aside from the bag of bits that was waiting for me when I got home (how Grapevine already knew where I lived did cause some minor alarms to go off in my head), I hadn’t heard from Nightshade or any of my other contacts yet, and it was nearly the end of the week. It was late evening, and I was slumped on my couch, bored out of my mind waiting for something that didn’t seem like it would ever happen. They could at least have given me some idea as to when they would need me aside from ‘A day or so hence’. I flicked on my light caster, the arcane device responding by sending its star shaped emitter crystal into a gyroscopic spin, before projecting a flat wall of light from the device that always oriented itself to face me as I moved about my apartment. The wall of light changed from a blank surface into the familiar shape of a news broadcast as I fixed myself a drink before collapsing back onto my couch. “We’ll hear more about the surge in popularity surrounding the controversial but delightful singer Miss Flowing Mantra after we return to our main story…” - BREAKING NEWS! –[ They really go all out to grab your attention with that transition The whole light caster projection turned into a miniature alarm, a pulsing red light behind the bold yellow writing as the Canterlot News Network tried its hardest to both scare its viewers witless and make them pay attention to what it had to say. Well, I suppose what it lacks in tact it makes up for in simplicity. - Blueblood flees Canterlot - The title of this particular report repeated on a constant loop at the base of the projection, as if fully expecting the ponies watching at home to instantly forget what the fuss was all about if it didn’t constantly remind them. The news alarm switched from its ‘look at me’ background to that of a lone unicorn reporter stood outside the House of Lords; the seats of parliament for the committee that governed the Celestial Union. A large crowd had built up outside the building, mainly consisting of reporters fighting for room to film and shouting demands that their questions be answered towards the officials entering the building. “I’m standing outside the House of Lords amongst a storm of scandal and outrage” the reporter began speaking to the camera, doing an admirable job of ignoring the ponies in the background attempting to gain their five seconds of fame. “Lord Blueblood, Head of the House of Traders, has fled Canterlot city amongst accusations that he sold Union secrets to the Luna Motherland.” “Blueblood has been forcing a policy of increased relations with the Motherland upon the committee for months now, and whilst many believed him to be the traitor he has revealed himself to be, none of us thought it would end like this.” The reporter ushered the pony holding the recording eye to follow him as he began to walk through the crowd, talking as he moved but trying to find a pony in the mass of bodies to speak to at the same time. “Miss! Excuse me, miss. Can you tell our viewers why you’re out here today?” “Well I have to say I am absolutely appalled! They haven’t even begun to review the evidence yet and already he’s being labelled a…” The elderly mare began to speak but was swiftly interrupted by the reporter. “Did you know that Blueblood was a traitor the whole time?” “Why would he be a traitor? He would have heard the report with the rest of the lords anyway; it makes no sense for him to steal…” “Yes, yes thank you for your time miss…” The reporter cut the mare off again, seeing that she would not help the particular story he was trying to report. “Ah you sir, do you have anything useful for our viewers to hear?” “Ah knew he was a liar the moment Ah saw him!” A particularly loud stallion yelled into the reporter’s microphone. “So it didn’t surprise you when Blueblood betrayed us?” The reporter held the microphone close the stallion, seeing that he would provide all the opinions he wanted to hear. “A Surprise?? That no-good traitor sold us all out! He’s probably running straight for Luna land right now!” “And there you have it, anger that a stallion so powerful could betray his own nation in such…” “Ah hate them Luna lovers!” The stallion who had just been interviewed barged past to yell into the microphone one last time before he was pushed away, much to the irritation of the reporter. “… Uncontrollable rage here at the House of Lords” the disgruntled reporter began again into the camera. “We know now that the public is certain that Blueblood deserves to be brought to justice, but let’s hear what our political correspondent has to say...” With a quick twitch from my hoof, the output from the light caster died. Personally, I really didn’t need to hear what the correspondent had to say. It would be the usual impotent rage that he always trumpeted whenever a story broke that was not about how amazing the union was and how we should all be proud to be a part of it. Most likely he’d accuse Blueblood of being a spy, murdering baskets of kittens, stealing candy from foals and shooting the sheriff as well as his deputy. It seemed like Grapevine’s side plan had worked brilliantly, Blueblood was now apparently an enemy of the state and on the run. However, I couldn’t help but feel that this was severe overkill if this was merely Grapevine settling a score, there had to be more to it than just that. Grudges get settled on a personal level, you don’t throw the entire country you live in into chaos just to get back at a pony. If Grapevine had left just one lasting impression on me, it was that he never acted to gain just one benefit. What else was he getting by throwing Blueblood to the wolves? As I pondered the potential reasons why Grapevine would be lighting the torches and fetching the pitchforks, my thoughts were interrupted by a few quick knocks at the door. Tap, Tap, TapTap, Tap……Tap, Tap. At least she always let me know it was her when she knocked. I looked out of the door’s peep-hole to find an amused but slightly impatient looking ivory pegasus outside, stood next to a brown earth pony stallion who was trying (and failing) to look as unnoticeable as possible. The pegasus I knew from the knocks and because I had seen her in the Hound just the other day, the stallion was new though. “Come on Pathfinder, open up! Places to go, ponies to meet!” The pegasus said as she put her eye up to the other side of the peep-hole, completely filling my field of view. I opened the door just as she was beginning to make a hole in the floor with her tapping hind leg. I was more interested in knowing why we were getting an unannounced third wheel before going anywhere however. “Its about time you turned up Nightshade, I’ve been bored out of my mind for days. But who’s tall, dark, and definitely-not-a-crook over here? I didn’t know you were bringing a date with you.” “Ah, this guy. He’s here to show you some of the ropes before we get to the street he works at. Pathfinder, Buckshot. Buckshot, Pathfinder. Ok, everyone happy? Awesome, lets go!” Nightshade took off down the hallway in a jog with her wings fluttering behind her, a transport sign of a pegasus (or some other thing I knew of with wings) that was itching to get a move on, leaving me and Buckshot stood outside my doorway feeling a little awkward. I decided to take the lead by locking my door behind me and nodding my head down the hallway. “Come on, she’ll be halfway to the labourer districts if we don’t get after her now.” “Uh, yeah. Sure.” Buckshot said as he followed me out of the building, clearly not quite sure what to make of his new 'professional' business partners. Buckshot didn’t say anything more as we left my apartment block and headed down the streets, following the rapidly disappearing silhouette of Nightshade galloping off into the distance I thought that by getting the pony of few words thinking about something he knew already would be a decent way to get him talking. “So, anything you can tell me about the plan for the evening? Gra… uhh, our ‘mutual employer’ was a bit light on details.” “Yup, I’m pretty sure that I could, how much do you know about our bit of the business already?” “I know that you sell a product to the nobility on the street corners in the middle of the night. And because you don’t want the Sentinels to know about your dealings I’m pretty sure I can guess what that product is, so don’t bother with that.” “Right, at least your not as naïve to how this town works than I thought you might be” Buckshot spared a quick glance over each shoulder to check if we were being listened too. “Well you’ve got the basic idea, we’ve been running this for a while now but we need some pairs of ears on the customers as they enter and leave the streets.” As we got closer to our destination, I was able to put a location to the descriptions that Buckshot was telling me. The operation was based in a small street that deviated from the main road to travel in a half circle around some housing blocks, before linking back up to the main road again. In the middle of the half circle was a four exit alleyway to the main road, each entrance of the street, and the midpoint of the half circle. Buckshot explained that a buyer would come down the road and place their order with a runner at the entrance to the half loop. As the carriage made its way around the curve the runner would leave the bits with a pony with a bag at one end, run through the alley to a pony with another bag at the other side to collect the product, and give it to the carriage as it joined the main road again. “It ain’t foalproof, but its pretty effective.” Buckshot was still running me through the process as we turned onto the road in question. “Bit bag and Product bag are always kept separate, and if the Sent’s turn up there’s four ways of escape, five if you’re a flyer.” I gave it some thought, after all you never want to put yourself in a position where you’re not sure if you can escape from it or not. If I were the Sentinels, the first move would be to block the mouths of the half loop, but if you weren’t quick enough one could slip by right through the middle of you or bolt the opposite way and lose you in the maze of pathways the buildings surrounding the road that it linked to. Using the exits close to the mouth of the loop was too risky as far as I was concerned, you would be spotted as soon as you ran. And since I wasn’t a pegasus, that left me with either running directly away from the main road, or getting sneaky and crossing the main road when no-one was looking. One and a half escape routes were better than none, but was by no means ideal. “The real stallions don’t worry half as much as you do” Buckshot was quick to tell me when I voiced my concerns. “They stand their ground and fight back whilst the bag runners get away. Since I’m on bit bag duty tonight that means I’ve got nothing to worry about.” As we neared the corner of the side street we walked past an unlucky light green stallion sleeping in an alcove at the bottom of a building, curled into a ball as he slept on a spread out newspaper. “Uhuh. So what do the ‘real stallions’ do when the bags have escaped and left them to fend off the sentinels by themselves?” I asked him Buckshot snorted to himself as he delivered his reply “Who cares? They get paid for the risk, and chances are Grapes would bust them out if they were dumb enough to get caught.” Good to see that time hadn’t made the unlawful of Canterlot any more dependable. “So where did that winged missy get to?” Buckshot looked around, clearly expecting Nightshade to have been waiting on the corner for us; she had vanished from sight some time ago. “I think a good show of the old Buckshot charm would get me a drink or two with that mare.” “We just walked past her.” “Ehh?...” Was all Buckshot managed to get out before being cuffed around the back of the head by the lime green pony he’d presumed to be just a homeless tramp. “Pathfinder! You nearly ruined my fun!” Nightshade strolled past the pair of us in her green stallion body “At least I managed to get the jump on Buck before he realised.” I think she might have knocked a cog loose from inside his head, Buckshot just stood there as he tried to piece together why some random bum had just clipped his head for no good reason. “I’m more of a classy kind of gal, Buck.” Nightshade smirked at him “…And even then only if you’re paying. Now shoo shoo, the real stallions need to have a quick chat before ponies start queuing for their goody bags.” Buckshot left us to it without another word, nursing his pride more than his head I thought, as he made his way across the street to take on his shift with the bit bag. “So.” Nightshade said “You ready for this? I heard you and Buck talking plans when you walked past, anything else you want to know?” I had one thought that I felt needed explaining. “Yeah, we’re supposed to be getting close enough to these carriages to be able to listen in, but it was never explained to me exactly how we were going to do that without the ponies inside catching on.” Small smile back in place, Nightshade ushered me back into a back alley so we were out of view of the main road. “Well…” Nightshade began as her body was enveloped with green flames to emerge as a pegasus whose coat mimicked the colour of the night sky. “… If you had wings and magic, it would be simple. I guess you’ll just have to be creative.” “All the buyers know that they can only enter the loop from one way if they want us to sell them their treats. I’m going to wait on the other side of the street to catch any that come down the other side of the road. That way, if a carriage pulls up from either direction at least one of us will be able to hitch a ride.” “… How can we tell who’s a buyer and who isn’t? I could end up tailing some random pony and they’d drive straight past.” I didn’t want to involve some ponies that were just passing by in this mess. At least if a buyer heard me they couldn’t go running off to inform the Sentinels, not with their chosen products in hoof. A bystander could do anything however. “Look around you Pathfinder, I hid myself as some passed out homeless stallion because that’s what everyone around here looks like. How many ponies that live here do you reckon could afford a carriage?” I began to feel incredibly dumb as I took her advice and gave the area a closer look. The road was lined with apartments that had windows boarded up and doors that had been kicked in. Cider, trash, and I didn’t want to think what else covered the streets. Celestia, there was even a working mare pressed up against one of the purple streetlights. “...Point taken. I’ll wait till I see something coming my way and try to think of something.” “Ata-boy” Nightshade took a few steps back from me and unfurled her wings. “Now don’t you go doing anything I wouldn’t do.” “That doesn’t leave me with much I can’t do!” I yelled after her as she took off towards the night sky, presumably to get in place on the other side of the street without anyone seeing where she came from. I settled into a seated position at the mouth of the alley, piling a few empty bottles of Applejack-Daniels next to me to complete the look of a pony that had lost his way in the world. From here, I could see down both ends of the street to watch for traffic, as well as seeing part of the distribution ring in operation. Keeping my eyelids half closed and resting my head back against the wall to make it seem like I’d had a few too many, I started shifting my eyes around to try and get a feel for the ponies within sight. About fifty metres or so off to my right, I could see the mouth of the half loop, and instantly spotted the lookout standing post on the junction corner. He wasn’t even trying to hide himself, standing out way past the wall onto the kerb itself, giving off the aura that said he’d knock you down if you so much as made eye contact with him. I couldn’t see into the operation itself, there was a whole line of buildings following the roadside and Buckshot and his buddies were tucked out of sight behind those. I could just barely make out the lookout posted on the far exit of the half loop however. Directly across the road from the second lookout was the working mare I’d noticed earlier. She looked like she was trying her best to catch the eye of the guard, but to no avail so far it seemed. A brief flutter of movement drew my eye left of the working mare, as I spotted Nightshade getting into position between a pair of buildings of her own. Aside from that, the rest of the street was deathly quiet, only the rustle of some discarded newspaper or the clinking of empty bottles rolling down the road lifted the silence. I heard the sounds of a wooden wheel creaking in the distance, and looked right to spot a carriage heading down the road. Although everyone on the street that night was trying to look uninterested, I felt that there were many eyes watching that carriage as it trundled down the road. As the stagecoach neared Nightshade, I saw the dark coated mare flash a catlike smile my way before the transport blocked my view of her. In the moment it had moved on, she was nowhere to be seen. Without trying to move my head too quickly, I glanced over at the two sentries and the mare on the kerb, but none of them acted like they had spotted anything unusual. Credit where its due, if there’s one thing changelings were good at, it was disappearing. I tracked the progress of the carriage and sure enough, it made a turning into the ox-bow before slowing down to pull up out of sight. As it was making the turn though, I noticed that one of the purple lights from the crystals in the street poles briefly winked out as the carriage moved past it, casting the outline of a dark shape on the roof of the carriage that had blocked out it’s light. Clever girl. Nightshade was perched on top of the roof of the carriage, letting the colour of her chosen form blend her into the shadows of the district. Unless she was directly between someone looking at her and a light source, she would never be spotted. As well as that worked out for her though, I doubted I would be able to replicate the same trick. Nightshade was both considerably lighter and more nimble than I was, and whilst I had no doubts that I could jump to the roof of a carriage if I wanted to, the ponies inside were pretty much guaranteed to notice the loud crash of me landing on top. I might even put a split in the roof if I was too heavy-hoofed about it, I needed some other way of getting close to the carriages. And I needed it quickly, I could see another carriage at the opposite end of the road coming my way. I couldn’t jump onto the stagecoach as Nightshade had; I’d give the game away too easily. And I couldn’t just trot alongside next to it, if the ponies inside didn’t see me they’d likely notice the distinctive clip-clopping of a pony following them around. And then I remembered something from my trip to visit Grapevine, something that I could use to my advantage. The carriages had no drivers. I waited until the carriage was as close as it could be without letting the occupants at the windows see me, and keeping as close to the ground as possible, I crept out into the road directly in the path of the carriage and lay on my back with my legs on the deck. If the carriage had a driver like any normal one would, he would have easily seen the movement and could have either stopped the carriage or steered it around me. As it was, the carriage carried on to its destination, the wheels set to miss my hooves by inches. The stagecoach rolled over me, and when it had passed, I was no longer lying in the street. I was spread-eagle underneath the chassis, my hooves pressed against the undersides of the carriage frame and my head nearly rubbing against the rotating prop-shaft driving the wheels forward. I was in an extremely uncomfortable position, but was feeling quite proud of myself; it wasn’t even that stressful on my legs yet. “…way of operating. If there’s one thing that Blueblood’s always been it was careful, even if he was a traitor he wouldn’t have been so bloody obvious about it.” I could quite clearly hear a male’s voice coming from inside the compartment above me; all I had to do was make sure I split my focus between listening in, trying not to touch the rotating prop-shaft, and making sure I didn’t scrape my head along the road. “But what of his dealings with the motherland? If anyone were to defect he would be in an ideal position.” This was definitely a mare. Were they a couple maybe? The carriage turned into the street and crawled to a stop at the kerb, a runner made himself known as I spotted a quartet of legs trotting up to the carriage, before sprinting off to the sound of chinking bits after one of the occupants placed his order of ‘The usual’. That caught me as odd, how many times must a pony have to come back to a distribution ring before they set up a tab for him? The carriage began to pull away again as the first occupant resumed speaking. “It was because he was in an ideal position to defect that he was targeted. It gives plausible motive and an opportunity for him to escape; increasing both the length of the distraction as well as the belief that he genuinely turned.” “… Distracting who, and from what?” The carriage clattered over a drainage grating, nearly causing my face to have a brief meeting with the chassis components, I managed to keep my grip, but briefly lost track of the conversation. “…is crumbling under its own need to tell itself that everything’s fine. Reminding everyone that the Motherland is still out there is a good incentive to bind them together under our protection. The committee had little to lose from Bluebloods trade agreements, so who would gain anything from casting him out?” “The Trading Guild definitely would, just because smuggled goods from the Motherland will become illegal doesn’t mean that they will lose any demand, they might even become more valuable…The Ordo maybe? More paranoia means more members for them.” I silently urged the carriage to speed up slightly, as strong as earth pony legs are I could really start to feel my muscles twitching involuntary as they put up with the strain of keeping me in place. “Your thinking of groups, Ingot. Even our own house would gain to benefit from Blueblood’s departure, think of specific ponies; the individuals who openly loathed him.” “Hmmm… His wife fled the city with him, his mistress will be too busy raking in bits for her story to care, and the house of traders doesn’t have a suitable replacement in the wings… Lord Aegis?” “Exactly. The house of defence has been looking to steal his thunder for some time now. Add in some national security threats and stories of the motherland and their popularity will never have been higher.” The carriage began to slow again, and as I looked around I spotted the same four legs of the runner who took the speaker’s bits earlier stop next to the carriage. The goods were exchanged without a word, and as the carriage pulled out into the main road it took all my willpower to ignore the agony of my own legs for being locked into position for so long. If I could hold out just a little longer… “…ling Thunder’s request?” “We should deny it; we need as many ears in the Motherland as possible now. The other Lords know they could have their credibility ruined as well if they don’t support action now.” Right, I’d heard enough and my legs were about to give up. As gradually as was possible with shaking muscles, I eased myself towards the road and managed to let go before the carriage built up any real speed. I tucked my legs into my sides as the carriage rolled over the top of me and away into the night. I half considered just lying there for a while, a thought which my aching body heartily agreed with. Then my brain had to be all sensible and remind me that just staying in the middle of a road probably wasn’t the smartest idea. It wasn’t busy enough for me to be run over or anything, but any old pony could notice me and wonder what was wrong. I tried to ignore the protests my legs made as best as I could and gradually eased myself off my back to stand up, checking my surroundings to see if anyone had spotted a pony appear from underneath a stagecoach. Fortunately, the only pony that seemed to have noticed was the closest lookout, the working mare across the street apparently had eyes only for him and so missed my appearance completely. The sentry posted at the corner gave me a quick grin and a nod as I passed him, but I didn’t return the favour. I knew now that if anyone had been watching him and noticed his friendly gesture, they would presume that we were working together. They’d be right of course, but that’s not a fact I wanted to advertise to anyone. I walked purposefully slowly back to my position, I could see that there were no carriages coming down the road from my side so there was no rush, and I wanted to avoid gaining any more attention than I might have already picked up. That and my legs still ached like a bitch, but that’s not the point; I was walking slowly because it was my choice to. Yup. I sat down with no grace whatsoever when I returned to my spot, I was just grateful that I had got some time to rest instead of having to jump straight under the next wagon that rolled by. What had I just heard? It seemed like whoever was in the carriage hadn’t bought Grapevines story of Blueblood defecting as well as the media had. They mentioned their own house, so they were either from nobility or were a part of one of the Houses which governed the Union Committee. The Trading Guild I knew, they were a practically a country onto themselves, a town of merchants who set up on the unofficial border between the Union and the Motherland. As far as I knew they were a fairly decent group but never cared much for the laws of either of their neighbouring states, they had a supply to maintain and a demand to fill for the goods that either faction could not get hold of. Supposedly renowned for their uncompromising honesty, the Trading Guild could be trusted to let you know if they saw a business opportunity with you, or to tell you straight to your face if they thought you were being a complete arse. I already knew that we had spies in the Motherland. “Had” being the key word there, if Thunder’s report was anything to go by. And they wanted to send more in?? Thunder seemed to believe they would be killed the moment they got there, so why risk posting more informants there? And here was the Ordo again, who were they and what had they done to get the attentions of so many ponies? They had to be doing something important if they were mentioned in the same breath as the Trading Guild. Lord Aegis was another point, the pony they thought to be behind Bluebloods exile. Grapevine would need to know this. As I sat on the kerb in my thoughts, I became aware of the sound of another approaching carriage, I looked over my shoulder to check if it was coming along my side of the road and…. …Wow… This abomination of a carriage was the beyond ridiculous. If you were to look in a dictionary under ‘tasteless’, you’d find a picture of this thing stapled next to it. Bright, neon pink exterior. Silver highlights. Dear Celestia, they’d even plastered fake eyelashes on the poor machines front lamp lights. I was brought up to try and not judge ponies when I saw them, hell I’d never have made friends with Nightshade if I hadn’t have been, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this hitchhike was going to involve a lengthy discussion about how a mare had seen a funny shaped cloud the other day. Well, if Grapevine wanted me to collect any and all idle gossip, I’d happily recount to him the thrilling tale of the pony-shaped cumulus. With some reluctance (although I’d be surprised if I found a pony who wasn’t slightly reluctant to throw themselves under a stagecoach), I eased myself back onto the road in the path of the oncoming carriage, silently praying that none of the ponies I knew would catch wind of this. If Nightshade saw me, I’d die of embarrassment long before she would stop joking about the carriage I had to hitch a ride with. I latched onto the underside as the carriage trundled over the top of me, noting how it was actually a lot easier to get a secure footing underneath this chassis than the last one. Perhaps my legs would forgive me once this was over after all. “…she, how dare she think she can be seen with us. I don’t care how popular she is with the commoners; she does not get the privilege of being seen with me.” A shrill female voice came from the carriage, so loudly that I probably could have heard it if I had just stayed sat on the street corner. “Just because she makes a song about how the workers are worse off than us and earns fame practically overnight, Flowing Mantra is not even close to the same league as me.” “Ruby…” another, older female voice began “Don’t ‘Ruby’ me, its Miss Tiara to you.” I don’t think I’d ever changed my opinion on a pony from ‘stranger’ to ‘irritating’ so quickly. “…Miss Tiara, perhaps you’re overreacting slightly? The poor mare only wants to make some friends.” “But she doesn’t get to. It’s not her place to mingle with her betters.” The carriage drew to a stop and was approached by the runner, his legs stopping just short of my nose. “Ummm, a packet of rainboom, an ounce of blitizen, and twelve of those little yellow tablet thingies, you know which ones I mean? ‘kaythanksbye.” As the carriage pulled off the irritating filly inside started up her complaining again. “Even daddy agrees that she shouldn’t be seen with me, he even said she deserved to be taken down a peg or two.” “If that’s what Lord Visage wants then it’s not for me to disagree.” “You’re absolutely right, it isn’t! What a clever pony you are. Now what to do about that mare though…” I could practically hear the gears clunking as the filly fell silent to think. It was either that or the sound of the carriage wheels rolling along, but I know what I preferred to think that the noise was. “… She wants to make friends? Fine, I know which friends she needs to meet so that ponies can see what she’s actually like. Daddy would see to it that everyone finds out, and then she’ll be forgotten in a week or two.” The other voice in the carriage said nothing, letting the filly continue her monologue. “I mean, it’s what she deserves after all. My daddy runs the union and our family has been important for centuries, these ‘new money’ ponies need to learn some respect.” The carriage came to a stop again, as the runner who had been waiting for us to appear picked up the bag that had been by his side and give it to the ponies inside. “Now, I’m sure you’ll help me with this Mrs Sweep, I might even put a word in to daddy if you do a good job.” The carriage turned the corner, and even though my legs were a lot less strained than they had been clinging on to the previous carriage, I decided that this filly had nothing useful to say and I'd be much happier if I didn’t hear another word from her. I started to ease myself slowly back towards the road, and as I let go of the carriage underside, I felt a sharp tug and pain shot through my left fetlock, quickly followed by agony from the rest of my body as it was scraped along the street by my hoof that refused to let go. I tired to clamber back into position so I could work on getting my leg unstuck without having my hide sanded away by the road, but the carriage was travelling too fast for me to get a good footing to push up from. I could feel my own skin being burnt away by the friction of the road surface; I had to get my leg free now before the carriage was moving even faster. I pulled with my stuck leg so that I could reach it with my free hoof and began to work it loose. The carriage hit a bump in the road, and I swore I felt something move within my knee that shouldn’t be able to, but as the suspension recoiled from the shock my hoof came free. I tumbled along the road as the carriage pulled away from me, the rear wheels barely missing my battered body as it carried on into the night. I didn’t know if the occupants had heard anything as their stowaway was caught underneath them, but frankly I was in far too much pain to care about them right now. I swore my head must have hit the road once or twice, as all the colours of the surrounding buildings and streetlights became much brighter, but also fuzzier at the same time. I had landed next to a dumpster waiting on the kerbside for collection the next day, and I crawled over to it to prop myself up against it as I waited for the world to stop spinning around so bloody quickly. As I tried to control my breathing to stop my stomach from bringing my dinner up all over myself, I could hear the sounds of ponies talking nearby. I looked up and down the street, but either there was nobody there or I was just too out of it to notice. My head was absolutely pounding, and was clearly having a contest with my leg to try and inform me which one hurt the most, but if there were ponies nearby it was more important for me to find out if they had seen me or not. I peeked around the corner of the dumpster, and my vision almost immediately cleared as another shot of adrenaline coursed through me with what I saw. Four ponies clustered in a circle in the alleyway behind my dumpster, grey ceramic ballistic plates and black mesh clothing covered the majority of their bodies with black caps perched upon their heads; they stood in front of a pair of locomoted carriages parked in a line behind them, both had a set of red spotlights mounted on their roofs. Sentinels. …Oh shit. None of them had noticed me yet, so I quickly drew my head back behind the dumpster before they spotted me. My first instinct was to get the hell out of there, but experience had taught me that it would be a terrible idea if I bolted now. Not only would they instantly see any sudden moves, I doubted that I would get far on a gimpy leg. And what about all of Grapevines guys? The Sentinels were obviously waiting for something, and I doubted that Grapevine would take too kindly to me abandoning his men without warning them. Chancing another glance at the Sentinels, I saw an opportunity and crawled away from the dumpster and out of view of the alley, before trotting back to the ring with a very obvious limp in one knee. As I neared the ring, moving as quickly as I dared without damaging my leg further, I saw that the working mare had crossed the street and was talking with the closest sentry. That worked out fine for me, I could warn them both before finding Buckshot. “Sentinels in the alley down the road, we need to get out of here now.” I said urgently to the pair of them as I passed, not slowing down in the slightest as I limped by. “Eh? What do you … ARHH!” I looked behind me at the sentry, wondering what had happened. The working mare stood over him and had him on the ground with a knee in his back and two hooves twisted behind him as she began to speak out loud. “They’re on to us, execute the operation. Move!” Ah, crap. I turned and bolted, trying not to care about the sharp pain that coursed through my leg whenever it hit the pavement. The Sentinels were on their way and I had to get everyone moving before they boxed us in. “Everyone, Sentinels are coming, get out of here now!” I yelled as loudly as I could whilst I ran, the more ponies that I warned the more would start running too, and the less likely it was that I would be targeted in particular as the group scattered. The runner got the message pretty quickly as I dove toward the alleyway, lobbing the bag he was about to deliver straight through the window of the carriage that had pulled up next to him and raced ahead of me, shouting warnings as he went. The suspension of the carriage creaked as a dark shape pushed down to launch itself from the roof, and Nightshade landed in a sprint at my side. I knew that there were at least four sentinels in carriages behind me, and whilst I didn’t know for sure if there were any more at the opposite end of the street, I doubted that they would be dumb enough to only bring their guys in from a single direction. I raced past the pony with the product bag, who was gathering as many packets of multi-coloured dust and crystals as he could into the large black rucksack next to him, before slinging it onto his back and chasing after me. So, escape plan. One of those would be nice about now. For all purposes the road behind me was a no-go, as well as the other end of the street since I thought it likely there would be sentinels waiting at that end too. If I thought it was dicey to run across the road beforehand I knew it was insanity now, not only would I be spotted they would also see that I was hurt and would be easier to catch. Only one thing for it then. As I came to the middle of the alleyway I took a left turn at the point where the paths crossed. Apparently, Buckshot had listened to my concerns earlier as it seemed that every pony (and one changeling) was running in the same direction as I was. We emerged at the midpoint of the curved road to see the carriage that the runner had just served was surrounded by Sentinels with weapons drawn off to our left, and to our right another pair of Sentinel carriages had entered the street; red spotlights fixed on our fleeing group as we ran into the alley on the opposite side. As we tore through the cramped side streets I was being overtaken on both sides by ponies that didn’t have a knackered leg to worry about, in fact the only pony that seemed to be slower than me was Buckshot, the bulging bit bag fixed to his back making him the slowest mover of all of us. The alley opened up into another street, and the black pegasus form of Nightshade took to the air in front of us. “Everyone, split up!” she yelled, before a red spotlight was fixed on her and she flew off into the night, a pair of Sentinel pegasi in hot pursuit behind her. Our group split into three as the runner tore off to our left, with the product bag and remaining sentry running straight ahead. I turned a right behind Buckshot, practically neck and neck with the stallion now as he struggled under the massive weight of the bit bag. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like this, where the hell is the other lookout?” He yelled at me as we raced down the street “The mare across the road took him down, she’d been watching us all night!” I yelled back. I looked behind me to see that four Sentinels had appeared at the mouth of the alley where we split up, and immediately all four of them turned their attentions to us and charged after me and Buckshot. What the hell?? There was easily enough of them to go after more than just the two of us, why did they focus everything our way? If that mare had been feeding them information all night they must have known who was carrying the product bag, so either they were focusing on us because we were slow, or they didn’t care about seizing the product and were only interested in the bit bag. “Quickly, down here!” I yelled to Buckshot and the pair of us turned left down another alley that was much more cramped and filled with debris. I kicked a few bins over as we passed to try and make life harder for the pursing Sentinels. “I can’t keep this up man, the damn bags too heavy!” Buckshot shouted at me, I hadn’t realised that he was gradually starting to fall behind me, desperation in his voice as he realised that he would get caught if I didn’t help him. “Take the bloody bag off!” I yelled back at him. He’d make it if he just dropped the accursed thing. “Are you kidding me?? Grapevine would skin me alive!” He shouted back, he was starting to fall further and further behind, and I could see the squad of Sentinels tearing into the mouth of the alleyway behind us, they certainly weren’t that close to us before as they were now. I had to go back and help him. The dumb sod wasn’t going to ditch the bit bag regardless of what I said, and if he didn’t lose that weight on his back he would be caught for sure. If he wouldn’t listen to sense then I’d just have to get back there and bite the damn thing off. Or maybe this was exactly the opportunity I needed to get away, I wasn’t running much faster than Buckshot and I might get caught if I went back to help him, then both of us would get caught and the bit bag would get taken anyway. What if I were able to lighten the load though? I might not have to bite the strap of the bag off; if I tore a hole in it then maybe enough bits would come out to make the bag light enough for us both to get away. Surely it would be better to lose most of the bits instead of all of them? Hell, I could actually get away and keep the bits if I wanted. If I took the bag from Buckshot and tripped him up, it would be enough of a distraction to get away with both my freedom and all the bits. Sure the poor bastard would get caught, but I would be free and gain extra favour with Grapevine for bringing all the bits home. I could see the Sentinels gaining behind us, they leaped over or barged through the debris I had scattered behind us, and soon they’d be close enough that I wouldn’t matter what I thought, they’d take us both down anyway. I could see that the unicorn in the group was charging a spell up, a blazing blue light beginning to form on the tip of her horn. It was now or never.