//------------------------------// // Chapter 19; Tailspin // Story: Shattered // by BronyNeumo //------------------------------// Chapter 19 This was it. This was the moment, her moment, and Rainbow Dash knew she wasn’t anywhere near ready for it. She could feel it on her every breath, kept slow and restrained through the force of sheer willpower alone, and in every rough palpitation of her heart. The chair in the witness stand was much the same as her usual one behind the prosecutor’s desk, but it felt exponentially more alien to her. She just couldn’t seem to find a position that was comfortable, a sorry predicament only compounded by the knowledge that every slight adjustment—every single movement she made—would register in the eyes of countless ponies across the audience. Rainbow Dash was a watched mare, and she could feel little beads of sweat begin to leak out from behind her mane and streak down her forehead. She only hoped nopony could see them. She could tell that Twilight Sparkle, for her part, must have been feeling much the same level of discomfort. The unicorn’s eyes locked themselves with Rainbow’s, emanating concern and what seemed to be a little bit of fear on her behalf. She thought to herself that it might be a good idea to give a little smile for Twilight, something small and intimate, just to let her anxious friend know everything was going to be all right. She might have done it had she believed so herself. “Please, Rainbow Dash, for the benefit of the court, I’d like to take you back the night of the event in question.” Here it was. A few scant minutes of setup, of easy, low-ball questions meant solely to prepare her, just to get her into the mindset of answering them, let her get used to speaking before the crowd; all had been leading up to this moment. This moment that Rainbow Dash knew she wasn’t ready for. “I want you to recount exactly what happened that day from your perspective, in as much detail as possible. Can you do that for me?” During sleepless nights back in her castle room, nights when the very last thing she wanted was to get up the next morning and face another day in court, she had rehearsed what few meager lines she had thought of before a mirror. She’d wanted to say “Yes, Ma’am.” It would sound professional, she reasoned. A good first impression—it might make the jury sit up and believe the rest of what she had to say. But when the time came, all she could manage was a simple nod. She tried to ignore all the waiting faces and impatient stares of a room crowded with other ponies, and kept her focus on Twilight Sparkle. And despite the pinstriped suit that implied otherwise, she knew this was not Twilight Sparkle her attorney. This was still Twilight Sparkle her friend and confidant; the mare who had been fighting for her from the outset, shouldering some untold level of burden and always coming out on the other end with a reassuring smile. This was the mare without whom Rainbow Dash knew she never would have found the courage to be sitting where she was, and in that, Rainbow took solace. She steeled her nerves and put thoughts of the curling knot in her stomach out of her mind. Suddenly, all those eyes seemed not to matter so much. There was no crowd, no audience; Rainbow Dash was merely having a conversation with her friend. So she closed her eyes and began to speak. ================================================================ “Wow.” To Rainbow Dash, the cavernous lobby of the Cloud Nine Inn seemed as nothing she had even seen before. Towering columns of shimmering cloud, carved to an artful degree that belied their vaporous nature, arced their way to a point upon the high ceiling to create a grand atrium. The floors, polished so smooth they may as well have been marble, glistened like ice under what waning afternoon light filtered in through the rotunda skylights. Across the lobby, a similar sheen marked the deep, rich tones of the mahogany desk—a rare and expensive piece for anypony in the cloud borne city to maintain, and an unusual glimpse of the world below. She took in all of this within moments of entering the hotel’s front doors, her eyes almost sparkling as her gaze swept the room. The other Wonderbolts, far more accustomed to displays of opulence and luxury, moved through the lobby with little a care for their surroundings, and Rainbow Dash soon found herself having to hurry to catch back up with the group. With a glance across her shoulder, Fleetfoot caught the new recruit’s eye, and flashed a knowing smirk. Rainbow Dash returned with a sheepish smile. Within moments, the team was already heading for the hotel bar, Soarin’ leading the way with a bounce in his step and a large grin spread across his face. Spitfire fell back behind the group, but Rainbow Dash remained so focused on soaking up every newfound sight and sound that she hardly registered the team captain’s sudden and conspicuous silence. And even so, the brilliance and luxury that opened up before her as she and the rest of the Wonderbolts entered the lounge soon commanded her full attention. The room seemed to capture all the wonder and chill of a cold, star-filled night. Her eyes lit up in awe, and were it not for the presence of her fellow teammates bee lining for the bar itself, she may very well have stopped in her tracks. Before she knew it however, she found herself seated at a stool facing a wall festooned with numerous bottles and sparkling glasses. She felt a hoof thump across her back and jumped, to the sudden sound of warm, animated laughter. She looked behind her to see Soarin’ standing tall and still smiling wide. He sat down next to her and pulled her body up against his, and Rainbow Dash could feel heat rushing to her cheeks. “Just don’t forget this party isn’t just for you!” He called over to a team member, and received raucous cheers from the team. Rainbow Dash struggled to keep herself settled as the stallion dropped his hoof from around her withers. His ever-present grin remained as he looked her over. “Whaddya say then, kiddo?” Even before taking a drink, Rainbow Dash’s head was already spinning. She hardly registered his question, and stumbled to scrape together an answer. “Nothing, I mean… wow. This is just… wow.” “Struck speechless, eh? Don’t worry. We’ll see if a few drinks won’t loosen that tongue right up. Let’s get a few beers over here to start!” Rainbow Dash nodded along weakly, still feeling awash in awe and incredulity at the barrage of new experiences. She tried to shake herself of the nervous bubbles filling her stomach as the bartender stopped by her place. “What can I get fer ye, Ma’am?” “Uh… Just a beer, please.” “What kind would ye care for?” “I don’t know. Just surprise me.” She could sense Soarin’ watching her with increasing interest as a tall, dark, frothy mug of unknown origin thumped down before her. Tentatively, she took a sip, and grimaced. Soarin’ chuckled again. “Listen, kiddo, now that you’re a Wonderbolt, your first lesson is how to party like one. Got that?” She nodded, and, emboldened, took a larger gulp. It went down easier this time, and she could feel a familiar warmth spread from her gut to her hooves. Soon, a smile broke out on her own face. “That sounds like something more my speed.” “Let’s get to drinking, then!” Soarin’ shouted this declaration for the whole team to hear, and was met with even more cheering. For the next few minutes, Rainbow Dash merely nursed her drink, preferring instead to soak in every sight and sound of her surroundings as possible. In a way, she was still caught up in the novelty of it all. Sitting in one of the most expensive joints in Cloudsdale, surrounded by those ponies she had idolized for so long as they exchanged jokes and clinked glasses, and yet most incomprehensible of all was the very idea that they considered her one of them. This was it, she knew. She had arrived, and she could still only barely believe it. It took her a moment to realize that one of them was trying to talk to her. “Hey, Rainbow… Rainbow Dash!” She looked over to see Fleetfoot, a fiery, wild look swirling in her eyes as she twirled a crystalline glass of some amber liquid in her hooves. “Take some shots with me.” She said it in a way that seemed to leave no room for debate. Rainbow blinked. “What?” “We’re doing some shots,” She declared, albeit slowly, just beginning to pour the honey-colored liquor into two rows of small, ornately decorated glasses. “It’s… it’s an… what do you call it? It’s like a thing that you have to do. Like a rite of passage for rookies like you.” “Are you sure?” Rainbow glanced from the mare’s face to the cascading tumble of spirits filling glass after glass. She had been trying to keep her own consumption slow, and she could tell Fleetfoot did not share that concern. The bottle wobbled slightly as she poured, and a bit of the liquor sloshed out onto the counter, though Fleetfoot didn’t seem to notice. “What, are you scared?” “Hay, no! Of course not.” Rainbow felt a rush of confidence course through her veins. The two mares exchanged confident smirks. “Alright alright, if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this right.” A visibly swaying Soarin’ exclaimed as he pushed his way between the two mares. “Standard contest rules. Eight shots each. Whoever finishes first wins.” Rainbow blinked, twice, staring at the stallion. “Eight?” He shrugged. “Hey, don’t blame me. Fleety here did it first, back when she first joined.” “So it’s a tradition?” “It is now.” Fleetfoot paused. “Initiation. That’s the word. It’s an initiation.” “Alright. Enough chit-chat.” Soarin’ raised a hoof into the air, “Fillies and gentlecolts, if I could have your attention for this duel of titans, Miss Rainbow Dash, and Miss Fleetfoot, decking it out in a race to the bottom of the final glass. Ladies, if you please, on my mark… and… GO!” The whiskey burned at first, but the sensation was quickly replaced by a fiery, yet soothing sort of warmth, one which she had taken the pleasure of enjoying numerous times before. Here was different, however. Here, the burn came with a sense of urgency, a numbing intensity in her brain that drove her hoof immediately back down to the counter for the next glass. Rainbow Dash had long prided herself on her ability to hold her liquor, and here, before her heroes, she was hungry to display this talent; increasingly eager to show how she could not only stand amongst them, but hold her own against them as well. She needed to belong. She became conscious of a growing number of gazes fixing on her, keeping careful track of her every move, yet still she dove back again and again for each new dose of searing liquor, her hoof flying from the bar to her mouth with smooth, repetitive, insistence, like a single-minded machine built for no other task. She found she had lost her sense of how much time had passed the instant her hoof was thrust into the air by the presence to her side she mostly guessed was Soarin’. The fire in her stomach threatened to consume her, and she couldn’t quite find the will to focus. Even largely unwilling to process the stallion’s words, however, he could hear him shouting something, and the round of cheering that followed. Cheering that she understood, intrinsically, to be meant for her and her alone. And in that moment, she didn’t care where she was, why she was there, or what she was doing, all she knew was that it felt good, and that she wanted more. The night became an extravagant affair; a fusillade of drinks that surged together and transformed into a single slug of alcohol; one blistering flood of it that erased all sense of propriety and self. Fleetfoot had collapsed against the counter, seemingly asleep, and Rainbow Dash had done the same against Soarin’s warm shoulder; she wasn’t quite aware of being awake herself. In a way, she felt grateful for his presence. He was solid, a stoic presence that kept her from losing herself. It was through resting against him that she still knew which way was up. Her eyes blinked open when he shifted under her. She looked up at him, questions in her eyes, wondering just why he had made her move, to find him staring right back. His lips were moving. He was saying something, but her ears were ringing. She had to strain to even hear, focusing on the sloppy movements of his mouth. He was saying something about pretty eyes. Something about her eyes. Her pretty eyes. He thought her eyes were pretty! What a funny thing to think. The thought ran through her head a few seconds after she began laughing uncontrollably, the mirth and the giggles pouring out of her like wine from an uncorked barrel. She couldn’t stop herself. She only just managed to choke out a strangled “thanks”, or something close. Soarin’ grinned. He leaned in close to her and said something again, but she couldn’t hear. She tried to slow her mouth down enough to match her thoughts, but “I don’t understand. What did you say?” became “I don… buh. Wha—” And then he kissed her. It was strange, she realized. She’d kissed other ponies before, but this was new, somehow. It was warm, and wet, and graceless, yet still foreign. It was an infiltration, some alien thing that she had neither expected nor quite understood the need to expect, and so she didn’t break from it, if only out of sheer, dumbfounded confusion. She was vaguely aware that there seemed to be other ponies cheering somewhere nearby. What next she knew, but she was on the floor, struggling to preserve her balance and climb to her hooves. Then he was there too, offering his side for her to lean on, and of course she did, lest she fall and the alcohol sloshing angrily about in her stomach pass dangerously close to her throat. And then he lifted her onto his back, and she just lay there, no longer even supporting her own weight; immobile. And so, swaying dangerously but still managing to keep both himself and his cargo upright, Soarin’ trotted out the door of the bar, and she went with him, just like that. She remained in a catatonic state of half panic and half confusion, yet still too frozen to even begin an attempt to express those concepts swirling about her heavily addled mind. Her face was buried in his mane, her nose inhaling a forest of deep blue hair with every breath. She remained like that, unable or unwilling to move—just which it was she couldn’t quite sort out—for the duration of the elevator ride. They arrived at the top floor and Soarin’, still uneasy on his hooves, meandered down the hallway. He fumbled with his keys before getting the door open and stumbling into his room. And before she even knew what was happening, he threw her onto the bed. Her mind was sent reeling as he loomed up behind her, she could feel breath against the back of her neck, the… ================================================================ “There. I’m afraid I must ask you to pause right there, Miss Dash.” Ink Scroll was up and in his element once again. The pegasus glared at him. “And why should I?” The lawyer raised his hoof. “I have only a few questions. Just a couple statements struck me as odd, first when you recounted your recollections of these events to Miss Sparkle, and then again just now.” “Like what?” “First, I’d like to know, what color were the bed sheets in that room?” “Are you insane? What does that have to do with anything?” “Miss Dash, I assure you I am of perfectly sound mental faculties.” “Your Honor, I object!” Twilight stood up in a flash, throwing her hooves into the air. “The defense is pursuing a line of questioning at best only tangentially related to the case at hand.” “You Honor, I assure you. If you allow me to continue, my questioning will prove to be quite relevant.” Ink Scroll maintained, keeping his tone even. “I fail to see how the color of the sheets has any impact on these proceedings.” Twilight shot back. Justice Honor Bound just sighed. “I’ll allow it. But you had better make your point quickly, Mr. Scroll.” “Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Miss Dash, what color were those sheets?” “I don’t know, white?” Rainbow huffed. “I see. And would that be your final answer?” “Yeah.” “Well, then it might interest you to know, Miss Dash, that the Cloud Nine Inn uses dark blue sheets in all their guest bedrooms.” “So? How do you expect me to notice that when I’m being assaulted?” She thrust her hoof out towards the defendant’s table, “By him!” Her eyes were as of ice, and they met Soarin’s for the first time in well over a month. He blinked. “Miss Dash, I have heard your accusations against my client before. What I am trying to do now is establish a basis for them.” Ink Scroll resumed his pacing. “Now. Were there any other details about the hotel room that struck you?” “No.” “Really? Nothing that you can remember about the room? Nothing at all?” “Nothing.” “I find that a bit strange. Are you sure you can’t recall a thing?” “Your Honor, the defense is badgering my client.” “Get to the point, Mr. Scroll.” “Forgive me, I only ask because I found it strange. In all your other recollections, you gave such vivid detail, yet that seemed to fall away afterwards.” “It’s not like I didn’t have more pressing issues to deal with just then.” “That would be understandable, except I have a theory. I don’t think you recall ever being in that room at all.” Rainbow Dash’s eyes followed him as he strode past her perch. “Are you saying that everything I’ve said has been a lie?” Once again, the lawyer held up his hooves, as if in defense. “Not everything you’ve said. Other witnesses have corroborated most of what you described about the incident at the bar. However, I do not believe you actually remember your experience beyond that point. That would explain your inability to correctly recall details.” “That’s crazy. How can you expect me to mind the décor when everything is happening all at once? I was drunk!” “Precisely!” Ink Scroll whirled around; his pacing ceased, and he looked right back up at her. “Miss Dash, I have a copy here of your medical records from the day you were admitted into Ponyville General Hospital. Your attorney submitted them as evidence. Were you aware of that?” “Of course I was.” “I see.” The lawyer strode over to his desk and assembled a series of papers, the writing on them had been marked over heavily, with parts circled and other parts underlined in red. He held the papers before him and cleared his throat. “Well, it says here that, upon arriving early that morning, your blood alcohol content registered as .21. Now, accounting for the few hours that we know elapsed before your arrival at the hospital, we can extrapolate that your blood alcohol content at the time of the incident would have most likely been between .27 and .32, well above the threshold for what is known as total memory blackout.” The stallion paused, hoping to allow time for his words to sink in with his audience, and Twilight jumped at the break in his speech. “Your honor, the defense has no way of knowing whether my client actually suffered from memory blackout. This is purely conjecture.” “Miss Sparkle,” Ink Scroll countered, “I do believe that, unless you have an objection, Miss Dash can speak for herself.” “The only effect this line of questioning will have is severely distressing my client.” The judge swept his gaze between both attorneys, “Mr. Scroll, I will warn you if I believe the witness is becoming unduly distressed. Is that clear?” “Yes, Your Honor. May I continue?” “Go ahead.” Ink Scroll nodded, and again began his measured steps before the stand. “Thank you. Now, as I’m sure the jury is aware, it is quite rare indeed for anypony with a BAC of .27 or more to maintain accurate memories of the time spent impaired. And this, I believe, is precisely the ailment which afflicted Miss Rainbow Dash on the night in question.” “That’s absurd. Of course I know what happened. Soarin’ took advantage of me. I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t remember.” “I don’t think that’s quite true, Miss Dash, and I’ll tell you why. I noticed it twice, first when you recounted your version of the events for Miss Sparkle, and again when I asked you to repeat certain pieces. You made it clear both times that you rode an elevator up to the room. Is that not correct?” “That’s right.” “Well, then it might come as a surprise to you, that the Cloud Nine Inn’s elevator was out of service for routine maintenance the night in question.” Rainbow Dash blinked at him. “You’re lying.” “I can assure you that I am not.” “That doesn’t even make sense! I rode the elevator, I remember it!” “I don’t doubt that. Yet, and if I need to produce the building’s maintenance records, I will, that elevator was out of service.” “That’s ridiculous.” “It’s all very simple. The hotel only has one elevator, I assume because of the expense required to operate one in a building made entirely of clouds, and that single elevator was undergoing maintenance that night. Nevertheless, you had no way of knowing that. And that is precisely my point. You don’t actually remember riding an elevator, because you suffered a blackout on almost everything that happened after you left the bar. However, without knowing the elevator was out of service, you fully expect that you would have ridden it. So, when you try to recall the incident, your mind tells you that you rode an elevator.” “You’re not making any sense.” “I’m sorry. I’ll try to explain. Essentially, your mind has tricked you into believing you rode the elevator, because that seems logical, when it would in fact be impossible. In reality, you have no real recollection of the incident; your mind is simply trying to fill in the gaps. This leads to what we might call false memories.” Rainbow Dash remained silent, deigning simply to stare down at the lawyer. “Of course, we’re not gathered in this courtroom today to discuss the intricacies of elevator operation in a Cloudsdale hotel. I bring this topic to the attention of the court because it would seem your memory of this incident is compromised, and I am thus wary of any accusations made against my client based upon it.” Rainbow Dash kept her gaze hard for a moment, unwavering. She shook her head. “You know, you can try to talk around me all you want, but that doesn’t change anything. That doesn’t change my experience. That doesn’t change what I know happened to me. Your words won’t change anything.” “That may be all well and good, Miss Dash, but you have now twice said something, under oath, that was categorically untrue. From where I’m standing, that leaves two possibilities. Either you’re misremembering these events, or you’re deliberately manufacturing your story. And if the second option is true, I have no reason to believe that you won’t just describe my client’s actions in whatever way you think the jury wants to hear.” “I am not lying.” “Good to know. I am therefore free to assume that your memories cannot be trusted.” “That’s absurd. Just because I missed a few details doesn’t make my experience any less true.” “Unfortunately, neither I nor the jury has any way of knowing that. As far as I know, you can’t actually remember anything from when you left the bar until you woke up in the hospital.” “That’s not true!” “Then show me!” The lawyer spun on his hooves; in the matter of an instant he went from walking to stock-still, staring right up at Rainbow. “You have yet to show how your recollections provide any sound basis for prosecuting my client.” “I know what happened in that room. He raped me! He assaulted me and he took advantage of me when I had no way of preventing him.” Twilight Sparkle’s hoof tapped the desk expectantly. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but kept her eyes on Rainbow Dash. Her friend was still; she wouldn’t meet her gaze, instead keeping it locked on the defense attorney. Twilight could sense the fire behind Rainbow’s words, yet they still seemed calm, premeditated. Twilight bit back whatever quick interjection she might have had. She needed to trust Rainbow now. This was her moment. “You’re going to have to do a little better than simply shouting accusations. As I’m sure you’re aware, in our society, ponies are deemed innocent until proven guilty. So far, the only thing that’s been proven in this trial is that you and my client had a sexual encounter. Nothing more.” “I was drunk! He didn’t even try to get my consent.” “Nor you his. Need I remind you, Miss Dash, that you were both heavily intoxicated, both well above the legal limit, and both incapable of giving consent. As far as the law is concerned, neither of you can be considered in control of your actions.” “What about when he kissed me, huh? I remember that. Your witnesses remember it. I remember him kissing me when I didn’t want it. I didn’t want anything to do with it.” “Interesting. And would you say that’s the last thing you remember?” “That’s not what I’m saying.” “I see. What of this kiss, then? You say you didn't want anything to do with it, does that mean at the time, or that you’re regretting it now?” “At the time, obviously.” “Interesting.” At some point, Ink Scroll had begun pacing again. Rainbow Dash watched him, her gaze fixed, her breaths coming heavy but measured. She could have sworn she felt a vein throb in the back of her neck. The stallion’s steps were careful, deliberate. She hated it. She wished nothing more than for him to stop, to stand still. “Because I happen to have witness statements that speak much to the contrary. We have heard testimony stating not only that you made no attempt to resist, but that you actively encouraged the kiss…” “That’s a lie!” “…That you embraced him, even that your eyes closed—I’ll quote Mr. Whiskey Sour here—as if ‘in bliss’. Do you deny this?” Twilight closed her eyes. She moved her hooves beneath her desk to keep the tapping from growing ever louder. She took a few hard deep breaths, inhaling through her nose. In, out. In, out. “I’m telling you he kissed me against my will, but I suppose you’re going to take somepony else’s word over mine, then?” “Miss Dash, you must believe me. I’m not against you here. This isn’t about anyone’s word being taken over anyone else’s. In fact, I can understand that you may not have wanted him to kiss you. The problem remains, however, that you gave absolutely no indication of that to either my client or any other witnesses present.” “Rape is still rape, you know. It doesn’t matter if I resisted him or not.” “Rape is only rape if you can prove it occurred, Miss Dash, and thus far, I have heard nothing that indicates my client acted in an aggressive or inappropriate manner.” “How can you say that?” “I have a theory. I think you and my client, both heavily intoxicated, had some form of sexual encounter which neither of you were in any position to think too much about. When it was over, you started to have your regrets, and flew off, only to run into your friends once you got home. One thing leads to another, and the next thing you know, you wake up in the hospital with no memory of the incident whatsoever. Does that sound accurate, Miss Dash?” “No! Of course not! I know what happened to me!” “But can you prove it? Can you prove it beyond reasonable doubt? I don’t think you can, and therefore I cannot, in good conscience, allow my client to be convicted based on accusations that you can’t substantiate.” Twilight tried once again to catch Rainbow’s eye. Her friend wouldn’t look at her. “I’m telling you he caught me off guard when he kissed me. I never would have let that happen otherwise. And I never would have had sex with him either. That’s the truth.” “I’ll believe that. But I think we all tend to do things we never would have otherwise considered after we’ve had a little too much to drink. And from what I know, you had much more than a little too much to drink. Are you honestly telling me that this, all of this, couldn’t have been some mindless mistake you made while inebriated? A mistake you’ve come to deeply regret, perhaps, but a mistake nonetheless?” “Yes!” “Somehow, I’m not convinced.” “Well isn’t that a shame?” “This is a very serious matter, Miss Dash. We are talking about my client’s life here. I, for one, don’t believe he should go to prison over some casual drunken fling, regardless of how much you regret it.” “It wasn’t a fling! He raped me!” “I have yet to hear you submit any evidence of that. No evidence that this encounter was anything other than casual, and indeed, none that you gave either my client or anypony else present any indication that you weren’t receptive.” “You want evidence? You wanna know why I couldn’t have been receptive?” “Please, do tell.” “Because I’m gay, alright!” In the next instant, several things happened; not all at once, but each in such quick succession that any observer present in the courtroom would have found it impossible to say whether they didn’t occur simultaneously. First, the color seemed to drain from Rainbow Dash’s face, as the adrenaline of the moment previous subsided and she looked out over the room, suddenly and horribly realizing just what she had said. She felt her mouth go dry, knowing just then that Ink Scroll was not the only person she was speaking to. She saw the countless faces surrounding her again as if for the first time, having forgotten for an all-too-short yet all-too-terrible moment that they were even there, and she froze. Second, as if entirely unfazed, Ink Scroll made to continue speaking, his next counterpoint ready to roll off his tongue, before he stopped in his tracks, suddenly aware of a rush of noise coming up from behind him. Third, Twilight Sparkle leapt up from her desk, glaring daggers at her opponent and bellowing one final, shrill “OBJECTION!” for all to hear. Finally, commanding the attention of the entire courtroom in one decisive fell swoop, an orange blur erupted from the stands just behind Twilight’s desk, clearing the fence in but a single leap and heading straight towards Ink Scroll. It was all over in a matter of moments. One of the Royal Guards tasked with maintaining order reacted quickly, tackling Applejack to the floor before the livid farm pony even had the chance to reach her intended target. The combination of Twilight’s objection and the sudden commotion at the front of the room had brought the whole court to a standstill, with not a sound in the chamber save for those of Applejack struggling against the guard. Rainbow Dash’s mouth opened and closed uselessly, again and again. Honor Bound smacked his gavel loudly against his stand. “Order! Order! I will have order in my courtroom!” Applejack paid the judge little heed, continuing her futile attempts to worm out from under the larger stallion. “Rainbow!” She grunted, “ya don’t owe this suit nothin’. Don’t say anythin’ else. It’s gonna be alright. Ya don’t owe ‘im.” She shifted her body weight but remained pinned. “Get offa me.” Ink Scroll’s gaze flicked from the tussle just behind him to the bench and back again, his eyes wide. “Just what is going on here? Miss Dash?” “No!” Twilight roared. “She isn’t answering any more of your questions. You were deliberately trying to make her angry. I won’t stand for this.” “I can assure you that was not my intention.” “I should’ve stopped you before any of this happened.” “Miss Sparkle,” Honor Bound fixed her with a stern eye, “if you cannot control your friend, I will be forced to hold her in contempt of court.” “AJ, please.” Twilight called. Reluctantly, Applejack quit her struggling, and the guard relaxed, though he kept the mare pinned. “Your Honor, you said you would stop Mr. Scroll if my client became too distressed. Well, just look at her.” Twilight’s words, of course, has the unintended consequence of not only shifting the judge’s attention away from the floor and towards Rainbow Dash, but nearly everyone else’s in the room as well. It was only a few seconds before the blanched pegasus, suddenly feeling the burning weight of countless eyes fixed upon her, leapt from her seat and bolted for the door. “Rainbow!” With an almighty effort, Applejack managed to throw the guard off of her and jumped to her feet, taking off after her panicked friend. Deaf to the world behind her, Rainbow Dash burst through the door and out into the deserted hallway beyond. Applejack followed, right on her heels, sliding as her hooves lost purchase on the slippery marble floors. “Rainbow! Wait! It’s Ok!” She chased her through the back halls of the courthouse, skidding around corners until Rainbow Dash finally ducked out of sight through a plain door marked ‘Mares’. Applejack hurried in behind her, slowing her frantic pace. “Rainbow? It’s alright, it’s…” her words of comfort died on her lips as she stuck her head through one of the stall doors, only to watch helplessly as the contents of her friend’s stomach splashed into the toilet.