//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: Fog of War // Story: Broken Accords // by Somber //------------------------------// Broken Accords: Chapter 7 Fog of War “You know, this wasn’t what I expected my first visit to Cloudsdale,” Misty said as they flew underneath the city. “I was more envisioning seeing jousting in the Cloudiseum. Touring the Palace of Arts and admiring Le Vague’s rainbow sculptures or Moonbeam’s Elegy of Light display. Getting a pony pedi at the Sunrise Salon at the top of the world.” Her eyes lifted to the nearly black underside of the clouds above her, cracks and faults patched with lighter, newer cloud. The rough surface was broken by hundreds of little ports and holes. Below stretched an immense, reeking bog. “Not flying around, looking for a-” She stopped short as a slurry of brown water poured out in front of her, barely missing her, her mane and tail spiking in alarm as she hovered in place. “What was that?” “Don’t worry about it,” Stormy said with a smile as she continued to search the broken, uneven underside. “And really, down here is way more interesting than up there. Cloudsdale is the oldest settlement in Equestria. Some of these old guys were here before there even was an Equestria,” she said, tapping the dark clouds, each the consistency of granite. “Cloudsdale was Commander Hurricane’s fortress, way way back. That’s long gone, but the foundations remain. They built Cloudsdale all around it, and then on top of it.” “But why park such a lovely city over such a disgusting swamp?” Misty asked, glaring down at the mire below, which was strangely colorful in the worst possible ways. Bilious reds mixed with noxious greens, toxic blues, and murky browns in the water below. “Um, Misty. The swamp wasn’t here before Cloudsdale,” Stormy informed her. One of the outlets gave an perfectly timed gurgle and spat gray water at the mire far below. Misty’s pupils constricted to points as every one of her feathers bristled. “That’s it. I’m going home now! Flying over swamps of poo under a city dripping with… no! No no no, I draw the line here!” Misty said firmly, shaking her head. “Well, suit yourself. I mean, I saved your life and everything but I understand if that doesn’t mean much when confronted with a little icky water,” Stormy said with a sigh. “Oh, and saving you from getting eaten. That too.” Misty gave a strangled sort of mewl before narrowing her eyes at Stormy. “You are…” She paused and her eyes softened, before she continued, “Getting better at this.” “Eh. Mom’s been using guilt trips on all of us for years. If you don’t want to come then go back and wait at the hospital. I’ll be fine,” Stormy lied, but again… 'mom’s lessons'. Misty shivered as one outlet let out a particularly heavy splat. “Just… what are we looking for, again?” “One outlet. A big one. Colorful,” Stormy said as she looked around them. “Colorful?” Misty asked, eyes boggled. “What are you pegasi eating up here?” “It’s not-” Stormy began when she spotted it. “There!” The outlet was a crusty ring extending three feet out from the bottom of Cloudsdale, big enough for three pegasi to fly up wingtip to wingtip. The sides of it were streaked with all manner of colors, mostly collecting into a brown crust. “The Cloaca Spectra. This is where Cloudsdale discharges all its rainbow waste.” “Rainbow waste?” “If they mess up the colors and they can’t fix them, then they drain it out here. You’d be amazed at the colors they can mix up. Lots are pretty nice. They really should swap out indigo for teal. But others are just horrible. Nopony will ever forget the infamous load of foal poop green. Tubs and tubs of it. Almost went out on the rainbows.” Stormy stuck out her tongue and then gestured to the colorful outlet which was streaked with the stuff. “They dump it into the swamp. Same thing with any waste water.” “Is it dangerous?” Misty asked. “I wouldn’t eat it if I were you,” Stormy advised as she poked her head up into the dark hole. Very dark. Very tight. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. There was the tiniest point of light in the distance. “Normally it’s always flowing with junk and there’d be no way to get up it without getting your wings gummed up, but with a strike on…” “We can fly straight into the weather factory,” Misty said, looking up the shaft. “Ugh, I know why they’d never think of it. This is so gross.” Tight. That was what Stormy thought. It was a tight space. Sure, the pipe was more than big enough for her to fly up, but some part of her brain was convinced it had to narrow. When it did, she’d somehow be pulled in and squeezed into spaghetti. But the alternative was to try to break into the weather factory when it already had a lot of security guarding the perimeter, and that was on a normal day. It’s a pipe. Fly up. Get out. Reach the lightning vault, stop Sun Glare from stealing another Class A bolt. Or else she’d made a whole mountain out of cloud and soon as Princess Twilight or some other pony flapped their wings she’d be left with nothing but a great big dose of embarrassment and a career carrying packages. Misty stared at her for several seconds. “Are we going?” “Oh! Yeah. Yeah. Sure,” Stormy said, the question giving her enough of a boot to her brain to get moving. It was just a pipe. Fly up. Easy… peasy… Ten seconds later, it was clear this was a big mistake. The air in the pipe was filled with a stingy fume that made it hard to breathe, her mouth and nose filling with a spicy, sharp favor that made her gag. With only the smallest circle of light below and above, it became almost impossible to see the edges of the drain. The encrusted rainbow colors had a mottled, organic appearance that reminded Stormy of a throat. Any second she knew it would swallow, mash her up, and spit her back to the swamp below. She accidentally backed into the wall of the pipe and her wings hit something the consistency of tar. She jerked forward and smacked face first into the wall of gunk. Panic began to rise inside her as it got in her mouth and gummed up her eyes. Every wing beat became a struggle. And then her head slammed into something soft and mushy. She couldn’t see it. Oh Celestia she was going to get both of them killed. She was going to be stuck to the wall and slowly entombed in the foal poop green and puce discharges. Hysterical gasps threatened to turn into screams at any moment! Then she felt hooves wrap around her, just as she had held Misty when lightning had crackled inches from her face. “You’re okay,” Misty said in her ear. “You just hit a big lump of goop sticking out from the wall. You’re fine.” Misty pulled her back and up. Stormy wiped her eyes clear and saw there was more light above than below. Stormy started flapping her wings again and Misty released her. “Thanks,” Stormy murmured in embarrassment. “That’s for the harpies,” Misty replied quietly with a smile. Stormy’s ears perked up as she heard voices above. Apparently somepony had thought to guard this outlet after all. Raising a hoof to her lips, she kept her eyes focused on the edge of the pipe. The mouth of the drain was an enormous funnel gaping underneath dozens and dozens of valves and spigots. Every vat had a waste drain that lead to this small, dingy round room. Stormy knew it well, having spent a month in here before her transfer to Manehattan. There was only one way out into the factory proper. And there were guards. A pair of pegasi guards stamping in agitation, huffing and breathing hard. The noxious smell of rainbow waste took some time to get used to. “How long do I have to wait here?” one of the white stallions asked. “That guy said an hour or two. Just keep your eyes open. There’s some crazy mare who might try and break in and do something with the lightning. The same one that blasted that farm in Ponyville,” his companion said, before departing. Stormy bit her hoof to stay silent, and was rewarded with a mouthful of goo tasting strongly of spoiled turnips. Ugh, when colors went bad, even the taste matched. Not only had they almost killed her and her sister, but now they were setting her up for whatever was going down here? She had to stop them… or at least find something that would get her clear of this! The first guard huffed, but stayed firm on his hooves, eyes scanning the pipe choked room. She had no illusions of winning a fight with the pegasus guard. And if she trotted up and turned herself in, it would only confirm the ‘crazy mare’ break-in theory. That was if something worse didn’t happen to both of them. Morbid as it was, there were a lot of ways to hide a body in the Weatherworks. Stormy glanced up at all of the spigots and valves overhead. Not taking her eyes off him, Stormy pawed a clump of brown goop and threw it over to the side. The guard’s ears perked and she ducked down. A few seconds later he returned to his firm stance. Another toss of goop, larger this time. He frowned and started over, trotting past the mouth of the pipe. Stormy pulled herself from the pipe and flew up to a large red valve. She hooked her hooves and waited. Three feet. Two feet. One… She heaved her hooves against the wheel and it let out a metallic shriek. “Who’s-” he started to say, looking up just before the faucet above him unleashed a torrent of neon green. It coated him head to hoof, and he flailed, falling on his side as his feet slipped out from under him. She cranked the wheel the other way, shutting off the flow. From the heap of green goop a head burst free. “Lima beans!” he gasped. “Sorry about this,” Stormy said before she bit down on the helm, which now resembled a paintbrush, and pulled it from his head. Then she swung it hard and clanged the armor against his skull. Twice. He collapsed into a neon green heap. “Wow,” Misty said from the outlet. “You just assaulted a member of the Royal Guard. For a mare trying to prove your innocence, you sure do break a lot of laws.” “I- They- He…” Stormy sputtered, then froze. Misty looked as if somepony had turned her into a piece of modern art. Every color of the rainbow, and many others that didn’t belong in any rainbow, coated her hide so that only her pale jade eyes remained. Stormy couldn’t help herself, but immediately started laughing. “You look…” “Better than you,” Misty finished with a smirk. Stormy examined her own coat. No wonder the stallion hadn’t spotted her in the mouth of the outlet. Her whole hide was covered with huge, colorful splotches and drizzly white and brown streaks. Her mane lay flat, plastered against her skull. Okay, they couldn’t go trotting all over the rainbow factory like this, leaving a colorful smear in their wake. Fortunately there was a wash station right outside the door. They both stepped in, pulled the handle, and immediately the nozzles all around them hissed to life. The shower blasted warm water at twice the pressure of comfort and the soap was harsh, industrial grade stuff, but it did the job. “Wash my backside and tail?” Misty asked as she scrubbed her mane. Wait, what? “Ummmm…” Stormy blinked amid the rivulets of water. “You want me to… uh… wash your… what?” “Backside. Tail.” Misty turned and looked at her, blinking in bafflement. “What?” Then her eyes widened. “Ohhhh…” “No!” Stormy immediately protested. “No 'ohhhhh!' Definitely not 'ohhhhh!' There is no 'ohhhh' involved what so ever!” “Well there’s nothing wrong with it,” Misty said with an amused smile. “You’d hardly be the first!” Brain... mind... lightning... priorities... gah! “Just… do you want me to wash your butt or not? This is hardly the time for… for the nothing that is not going on!” Stormy huffed. Right now, that was the last thing she needed to deal with. She didn't mind mares liking other mares. Mares liking her though was a little too... experimental... for stormy. “Well… if you insist,” Misty said with a coy flutter of her lashes. In a few more minutes they both cleaned up enough that they wouldn’t be leaving a trail through the factory. The harsh soap did its job well…. mostly. “Wait… why am I still blue and pink and green?” Misty asked as she rinsed off the goop. “Well… let’s just say raspberry jam’s got nothing on rainbow stains,” Stormy said, her mane still a clash of chalky white and neon green with a few flashes of yellow. Misty’s throat let out a strangled sort of mewl. “Don’t worry, it’s usually not permanent,” Stormy added, and Misty’s mewl rose in pitch. “Usually… Though most don’t get smeared in pipe gunk.” The mewl lifted above Stormy’s range of hearing… or the pale pegasus’s throat had closed entirely. “When we’re through with this, I am getting a full Canterlot Spa treatment,” she said. “Which way?” “Through the winter staging area and the condensitorium. Come on,” Stormy said as she hurried down the hall. The problem with the Weatherworks, like most pegasus buildings, was that most of the architecture was wide open and airy, with little cover. Moving down the hall, they had to dart from column to column when the patrolling guards' backs were turned. They just barely made it through the double doors into winter staging. Immediately the wet ponies started shivering as they went from summer to the depths of winter. Massive stacks of boxes filled with snow filled the cavernous space. The massive warehouse held enough snow to cover Equestria in several feet, all kept chill by a constant frigid blast from vents in the roof. Flying brought them closer to those freezing vents, and given their coats were soaked, they trotted along as quickly as they could. “Come on. There’s an exit on the far side,” Stormy said. Unfortunately due to the strike, the far side was pretty elusive. There were boxes out of place and pallets blocking the path to the exit. “I used to love winter,” Misty said as she shivered, icicles forming in her mane. “Now I’m wondering why we even bother!” “Depends on who you ask,” Stormy said to keep her teeth from chattering. “Earth ponies say that the land needs three months to rest. Personally, I think it’s just an excuse for farm ponies to get three months off work every year.” She spotted the exit on the far side of the cavernous space. “Oh, Celestia it’s cold,” Misty gasped, staggering in the chill air. “Is… is it true no two snowflakes are alike?” Stormy snorted. “No. That’s just a popular myth. Can you imagine what a pain in the tail it would be to check that each one’s unique? There’s a couple thousand different styles though. Some are pretty rare and famous.” Stormy wracked her brain to keep thinking as they crossed the chilling room. The trivia was keeping her mind off the hoof-biting cold. Most ponies who worked in these areas wore heavy jackets and coats, and none of them came in here dripping wet. “Snowdrop gave us the six sided flake. There’s been some folks that try for three, four, five or seven sided flakes, but they never caught on.” They almost reached the exit when two silhouettes appeared in the frosted glass. Panic was enough to get Stormy and Misty in the air, hiding behind the nearest towering stack of snow. Two guards walked in and took position inside the storeroom, flanking the door. Worse, they wore heavy, fluffy coats over their armor. Up here, closer to the vents that blasted out freezing air, Stormy felt a dangerous lethargy start to spill over her. There had to be another way through before they both froze. Stormy pressed her back to a box in the stack, shuddering. Cold was all she could think about, though. It was so chilly she couldn’t feel the ends of her hooves! Lessons from her winter weather class bubbled up in her mind. What were the steps in hypothermia? Lethargy. Confusion. Numbness. A strange warm feeling...which made no sense to her. Confusion... wait she'd counted that one, hadn't she? Fatigue. At that point, they’d just have to give up. Normally it’d take several minutes, but being wet had accelerated everything. Stormy felt the stack behind her suddenly shift and she stared up, watching the pile sway ominously above her. She peeked at the pair standing stoically in their warm coats and heavy armor. Stormy flew up to the highest boxes filled with the newest, fluffiest snow… and closest to the vents. Icy air buffeted her, oddly drying her off as all the moisture in her coat froze… along with her. She looked at where Misty seemed on the verge of passing out below her and grit her teeth, slamming the top of the stack with her body. It shivered again. Come on. Another hit, and the boxes below shifted. The pair looked up just as Stormy threw her body as hard as she could against the stack. All at once, the boxes fell, tumbling over and dumping their snowy contents over the pair. An avalanche of white poured down on the pair with an enormous ‘whump’ that drowned out their shouts of alarm. Stormy tumbled down end over end, not quite remembering how her wings worked. A second later an armored head popped out of the snow. The guard blinked and stared at Stormy in bafflement, then the other guard emerged with a tiny conical cap of snow upon his head. “Sorry,” Stormy murmured, barely audible for her chattering teeth. “Shoulda said look out below.” The pair started to struggle out of the snow, when a glittery pair of hooves trotted up. The helmet was pulled away, and the glistening hooves smashed down on the head beneath. Then the other. Stormy looked up at a crystalline Misty. “You’re… walking?” “Most ponies can walk on snow,” she said. “I’m glad that crystal ponies aren’t bothered by cold.” She returned to being a pegasus, and dragged Stormy through the double doors and into the hallway beyond. The warmth was so abrupt it hurt, but was oh so welcome. “Will they be okay?” “They have nice warm coats and are tough stallions. They’ll be fine,” Stormy answered sourly as her body tried to both ache and shiver at the same time. At least she hoped they would be. Neither one had been their brown attacker. How long would it take to get a message to Princess Twilight or Princess Celestia? There wasn’t a telegraph to the skies, but instead they used a light beam that would flicker and flash in Moose code. But what if there was some other threat or peril the Princesses were dealing with? Some… dragon or monster or pony only knew what? She tried not to think about that. The warmth of the factory invigorated her and together they went into the condensitorium. Dozens of huge kettles sat waiting for their workers, steaming slightly. They’d release puffs of water vapor that condensed into cloud when they hit the cool air drifting from vents near the roof. Then pegasi would gather them up into clouds and send them on their way across Equestria. Only instead of workers, a half dozen guards patrolled back and forth along the middle of the large, empty chamber. Stormy and Misty darted from cauldron to cauldron, using them for cover. If these had been on, they’d have been cooked quick. Another moment the strike worked in their favor. They cleared the far side of the room and Stormy pushed open a small side door, leading down. A soft rumble filled the air as they descended. Here the clouds were darker and an ominous rumble moved through the room. “We’re here. This is the lightning level.” A large sign on the door warned that only authorized lightning specialists were allowed in here. Stormy pushed it over, and immediately was struck by the acrid tang of ozone and breathed deep, smiling. “I love that smell,” Stormy murmured. Inside were dozens of pillars and glass tubes. Yellow, blue, and purple lightning flickered and flashed from machine to machine. Pipes of all sorts ran from one device to the next, gurgling with fluid and hissing with steam. Crystals and gems throbbed with power. Tiny little crystals of condensed energy lay scattered around the bases of the equipment. “Oh wow,” Misty murmured. “That’s amazing.” “They usually don’t show this part of the Weatherworks to tourists,” she said, pointing at the equipment. “That’s the heart of the whole factory. The power plant. That energy goes into everything we do here.” “It’s powered by magic?” Misty asked softly as she stared at a spiral tube filled with flashing blue bolts zipping around a larger tube of bubbling water. “Well, it is now. In the old days they’d have to wrangle wild clouds and fight them into position. Squeeze rain out of thunderheads. Snow back then was more like hail hammered out of clouds with big ol’ mallets. Now we got all these new ways of magic to make whatever weather we want,” Stormy said as she peered around, looking for the guard she knew had to be down here. The constant crackle more than covered their speech. “It’s why pegasi who think we don’t need unicorns don’t know what they’re talking about. We’d never be able to manage all the weather all over Equestria doing things the old way.” For some reason, what I'd said made Misty smile. "What?" Stormy asked, worried. "It's true. I mean, it takes forever to milk rain." She shook her head, still smiling. “Nevermind. So, who provides the magic?” Misty asked. “Oh there’s a few unicorns up here with enchanted horseshoes or cloudwalking spells on all the time. They charge the thunderstones with their horns,” she said as she gestured to a head-sized rock that whirled with a rumble inside a casing full of copper wires. “That makes them spin for days, and the spinning somehow produces the lightning that runs everything.” Stormy rubbed the back of her head. “I don’t know the details beyond that. I’m not even sure where thunderstones come from.” “Earth ponies, I suspect,” Misty said, peering through the long, stretched out hall. “Where’s the lightning vault?” Misty asked. Stormy pointed at the end of the long hall and they walked their way along the machines. There was no way to shut these down without completely killing the factory for days. At the base of each were baskets collecting the yellow condensed crystals of lightning. The further along they walked, the larger the bolts became. “Careful,” Stormy said as she lifted a foreleg long bolt. “Class D.” She looked around and spotted a long, tapered sling of sheet rubber attached to a strap. She slung it around her neck and slipped the Class D bolt into the sling. “Might come in useful.” Misty arched an eyebrow and Stormy flushed. "What? It might." “Right. We’ve assaulted three royal guards so far. Electrocution sounds good,” Misty said, shaking her head. The lightning vault was a large block of black clouds at the far side of the hall. It rose two-stories and had a massive door of real metal, no doubt enchanted to stick in the clouds and prevent a pegasus from kicking their way in. Before the door were a trio of large sky wagons filled with silk padding. At least twenty guards were standing around attentively, as well as a half dozen lightning specialists, identifiable by the hooded rubber unitards they wore. “We’ve been waiting for more than an hour,” said a lanky blue stallion harshly, the one from her picture. Sun Glare certainly didn’t seem all that threatening; he wore a tight business suit and a pair of wire frame glasses. He had a cutie mark of a sun with a slightly cheesy lens flare. He resembled nothing less than a ill mannered, but otherwise unassuming middle manager. The dark purple unicorn he addressed, however, was one she knew well. Captain Darkstar stood casually on the clouds, giving the blue stallion a faintly patronizing smile that seemed calculated for maximum annoyance. “And we’ll wait for another hour if we must. Or two. Or three. The Accords requires a representative from all three races to supervise this transfer from Cloudsdale to Baltimare.” “A waste of time,” Sun Glare scoffed, dismissively. “Lightning is the property of the pegasi people. You unicorns have no say in how we manage it. This move to a ‘secure facility’ is nothing but brown clouds. It’s simply an old castle outside of town.” “Well one of your bolts obliterated an earth pony barn. A bolt which was in your custody and which should never have left this vault,” Darkstar said with a dry smile. “I think we’re all eager to have the vault moved elsewhere. So we wait.” “Now what?” Misty asked. “We have to wait too. Eventually Spitfire or the Princesses will come,” Stormy said, hoping that they came soon. Then there was a bellowing from the other end of the hallway. “Alarm! Alarm! The Weatherworks has been infiltrated!” A neon green stallion with puce splotches raced down, followed by two faintly frostbitten guards. “Stormy Skies is here in the weather factory!” Sun Glare looked at the other guards and swept a wing. “Well don’t just stand there! Find her! Search everywhere! Make sure she’s not in the ducts or the storerooms.” He glared around at all the constrained lightning about him. “Sweep this room first! She’s a madmare. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d done something in here.” Stormy froze, looking every which way. While there were plenty of places to keep out of sight, there weren’t enough to evade detection by a dozen determined pegasus guards. Then Misty clambered on her back. “Hold still,” she said in Stormy’s ear, and then Stormy felt something like spider gossamer tickling her hide. She looked over her shoulder… but saw nothing but the faintest outline of the unicorn. Stormy stared at her own transparent hoof. A pegasus guard came around the corner, his gaze sweeping over the flickering machines. For a heartstopping moment, his eyes lingered on the pair of them. Then Stormy felt her insides turn to water. It was him. The brown pegasus. Really, she had to think of a name for this guy. He wore the uniform with a bit of difficulty; it was a size or so too small for him. If Stormy hadn’t known him, though, he would have appeared to be just another royal guard. His eyes wandered off her and then he continued past. Stormy felt Misty’s sweat dripping off her back. With a soft gasp, the spell broke and the unicorn slumped. “It’s easier to lift a buffalo than maintain that spell.” “You can turn invisible? Why didn’t you say you can turn invisible?” Stormy asked in a harsh whisper. “Because it’s not easy,” Misty whispered back. “And aren’t we hiding?” “We have to find her. I have no doubt that that maniac is planning something,” Sun Glare murmured, wiping sweat from his brow. “She’s sick. She’s caused catastrophic damage to his room before and just killed another pony with her disregard for lightning. She should be locked up.” “That is one theory,” Darkstar nearly purred. “There is some evidence to the contrary.” Stormy’s mind worked furiously. “We have to get in there,” she murmured. She was going to be the scapegoat for whatever it was they planned. Stormy could practically read the headline: ‘Mad lightning mare blows up weather factory. Spends rest of life locked up professing innocence.’ The only question was if Misty would be locked up with her? Then Stormy’s eyes stared at the lightning specialists and an idea started to form. Most of the guards had moved on to search elsewhere. Now was their chance. Stormy gestured for Misty to follow to a side door. As quietly as she could, she pushed it open to a store room with cubbies full of equipment for maintaining the factory’s electrical systems. As well as a half dozen rubber body suits. She pulled one off for herself and Misty. Stormy pulled one off the shelf when she heard a faint giggle. “You are a bad pony,” a stallion snickered. “Oh, be kind chère. Life up here in the clouds is so full of beauty. Like you, mon amour,” a stallion replied. The two were right on the far side of a row of lockers. Stormy peaked around the row at a while pegasus stallion curled up with a light gray earth pony stallion with a shaggy blue mane. Both had their armor nearly removed, scattered about a heap of cloud. On the ends of the earth pony’s hooves were four silver horseshoes stylized with wings. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment he glanced up. “Ah zut alors, mon pérégrine, it seems we are discovered.” The white pegasus stallion froze for several seconds, but the gray gave his cheep a peck. "Dommage." Misty pressed her hooves to her muzzle as she went red, suddenly giggling at the sight of two stallions cuddling. Stormy sighed... really? She looked at the pair. “Oh, don’t mind us! We won’t tell a soul. We were just getting suited up too,” Stormy said as she lifted the clingy rubber suit. The phrase sent the handsome white pegasus diving for his armor as the gray earth pony gave a sigh and a roll of his eyes. "Ce la vie," he muttered as he more languidly began to dress as well. Stormy and Misty drew back. “Oh stars and sparkles,” Misty said with an embarrassed smile as she pulled back, giggling sporaticly for several seconds. “Oh my. Two boys... oh... that was... ahem..." she finally regained control of herself, though her blush persisted as she held up the floppy unitard. "How do you put something like this on without magic?” Stormy reached out with a hoof for a large container of powder and immediately shook it all over herself, flitting her wings and swishing her tail to make sure every inch was covered. Misty mimicked Stormy, who then stretched open the crotch of the suit, pulled her head through, then her forehooves, then her wings, and finally she tucked her tail down the inside of one back leg. A few tugs to adjust and she had it on. She then grabbed a pair of tinted goggles that covered most of the rest of her face and snapped them in place. Misty finished right after her. They transferred their assorted ‘adventuring gear’ into rubber utility pouches. The pegasus slipped out, rushing out of the store room as the earth pony stallion trotted out after her. He… didn’t look like most royal guards Stormy’d seen, but then she hadn’t seen many earth ponies in the Royal Guard. He didn’t have the stern, focused air of most guards she’d met. Instead an aura of scruffy messiness emanated from him. His mane was untidy, his face speckled with darker mane growth hinting at a beard in the future. His armor had decidedly a few too many dings and even little patches of rust. He looked at the door the mare had just vacated and sighed, “Ah me. I finally meet un étalon attirant in the clouds and away he flies at the first startle. Ah well…” He gave the pair a casual grin. “Pardonnez mio, chères. My name is Razorback,” he said, looking at the door. “I guess it’s time we got down to it, oui?” Stormy and Misty continued to stare. “What? Did I put on his armor by mistake?” “You’re a guard?” Stormy asked, fighting the skepticism in her voice. “C’est vrai. Shocking, I know. Just un poulain from the bayou of New Hornleans,” He said with a sigh, patting his chest. “That angel of the skies flew down to the swamp saying they needed an earth pony representative for some important bizness, so here I am,” he said, his casual grin returning. “Perhaps when the serious bizness concludes, the three of us could enjoy some more pleasures amid the clouds?” He grinned at the pair of them, wiggling his eyebrows in what he must have believed was a seductive manner. “Weren’t you… just… with a boy?” Misty asked faintly. “Oui,” he replied casually. “Un futé poulain.” “And… you’re flirting with us…right?” Misty asked, and his smile spread. “C’est flirting only if you don’t like it. Autrement is it a promise, non?” he said with that easy grin and a wink. “There’s nothing wrong with it. He’s hardly the first,” Stormy said to the flustered Misty. “Let’s hurry.” They trotted out and walked towards the vault. Razorback passed the stallion from the storage room and gave him a cheeky wink, clicking out the side of his mouth. The white stallion turned a vivid pink. Sun Glare gave Razorback an evil eye. “There you are! What took you so long?” “Pardonne moi, good sir, but this city of yours is très difficile for a poor bayou pony from New Hornleans to navigate. All that up and down, it’s boggles the mind.” He turned towards the amused Darkstar. “C’est vrai, non?” “Certiment. mais nous parlons equuslais pour amis?” Darkstar replied smoothly. A vein on Sun Glare’s temple pulsed in annoyance as one eyelid twitched in frustration. “Now, shall we get to work?” The assistant director seemed to want to have a few more words with the tardy Razorback, but turned away with a huff. The director trotted to the door to the vault and drew a key from his vest. It appeared carved of pure light. He slipped it into a hole in the center and lines of power radiated along grooves carved in the metal. Suddenly the grooves twisted aside and the door dilated like an iris. “Fancy,” Darkstar murmured with his usual dry sarcasm. The door opened to a long low, wide room that made Stormy balk. Within lay the strongest lightning weapons in Equestria. Each of the Class A bolts rest on a long, thin table on a padded cushion. The jagged yellow crystals flickered with the energy oscillating within. Fifteen on one side, fifteen on the other. Every single one accounted for. So where did the bolt that killed Rosewing come from? The lightning specialists trotted to the first bolt, a pair on each side, and they reached out with their hooves and carefully lifted it from its bed. The bolt’s flicker remained stable as they moved in unison towards the first wagon. It was a careful ballet that would blow up in their faces if they screwed up. Together, they set the bolt in the padding lining the cart. Clouds would make the bolt unstable over time. One transfer took several minutes of tiny, careful steps. Stormy became aware that Razorback and Darkstar were watching them. If Sun Glare realized he had two extra lightning specialists… She nodded to Misty to head further back. “There’s thirty. There shouldn’t be thirty,” Stormy murmured. “Maybe they replaced them already?” Misty asked. “Manufacturing Class A lightning is a big deal, though. They couldn’t be manufacturing it without ponies knowing. When they made the set for Discord, there were sparks and the power flickered and… it's just not something ponies would miss.” Stormy huffed softly as she looked at the racks of bolts. Then she saw the door in the back of the vault and she froze, feeling a distinct sensation of familiarity with the door. Like the outer door, it had a tiny hole in the middle. Stormy, almost in a daze, pulled out the small D bolt from a utility pouch and pressed the tip into the door. A part of her feared some kind of grind or rumble, but she knew the door was silent. It swung inwards, and Stormy stepped through. “What… what are you doing?” Misty asked as she followed. Then she fell silent too. The Thunderforge. It towered above them, a massive construct of black cloud, black steel, and black stone. Colossal pegasus figures supported the massive construct with uplifted hooves. The top resembled outstretched wings, with a dozen notches coming together in the center. Beneath the center lay a jagged bolt shape cut along a natural fissure in the stone block. The whole device reeked of ozone and set Stormy's mane tingling. She could almost hear the faint rumble in the stone. As she stepped closer, she felt a strong pull on the metal in her pouches. “That’s where they put the lightning. Ten Class A bolts. They feed their power into a central point that liquefied the lightning, pouring it into the mold. While it hardens, they hammer it into place, concentrating and compressing it.” Stormy then frowned. “Wait. Where are the hammers?” She stared around the room. Then she looked closely up at the center of the forge. “And there should be…. something… something there! A gem… or crystal… something!” But it was gone. A profound sense of outrage rose up inside Stormy. This was her heritage! Something unique and irreplaceable. It’d been vandalized. Desecrated! “How do you know?” Misty asked. “I…” Stormy balked. “Somepony… told me I think…” she offered weakly, looking at the gaping hole where a gem should be. “Maybe it was removed? For all we know, Princess Celestia has it. Or the director of the weather factory. Or the head of the wonderbolts?” “So this is the fabled Thunderforge,” breathed a stallion behind them, and Stormy froze as Darkstar walked in behind them. “Quite impressive,” the stallion said without any sense of irony or sarcasm. “A relic of a much less civilized time.” Razorback whistled in agreement. “Now that is très redoutable,” Stormy swallowed, looking up at it, then at Razorback, and then at Darkstar. He didn’t invite the same kind of confidence as Princess Twilight. “It’s been vandalized, sir.” “Has it?” He sounded surprised. “There’s a piece missing. A big yellow gem in the middle. As big as a pony’s head. See the hole?” “Ah. I think she is right. See?” Razorback gestured at the hole with a hoof. “The edges are all rough, like it was chipped away.” “So there is. How fascinating.” He leaned in closer. “Who knows how many centuries, or millennia, ago it could have happened.” “Do you think Princess Celestia has it?” Misty asked. “Celestia? I should think not. Princess Celestia maintains no authority over the Thunderforge, the Black Book of Canterlot, or the Bitter Harvest in Manehattan,” Darkstar replied. “That was the agreement when the three tribes ceded control to the Princess. That way, if Celestia or Luna went bad, the tribes would have weapons to use in their defense.” “But Luna did go bad,” Misty pointed out. “Which is why Princess Celestia used the Elements of Harmony on her, and tasked Twilight Sparkle to do the same on her return. Had Celestia not done so, the three races would have been tripping over themselves to break the Accords and slay Nightmare Moon themselves. Celestia knows that once the Accords are broken, even in self-defense, then events will rapidly spiral outside of even her control. The Star Order would immediately start referencing the Black Book. The arborists would plant forbidden seeds… just in case. Such power, once touched, is difficult to put away again.” It would have been the best time to bring up who she was and her suspicions, if it wasn’t for the note of longing in his voice. Then a harsh voice said, “First one, now the others. What are you four doing in here?” Sun Glare glowered at them all, silencing any opportunity to speak. "Can't anypony stay where they're supposed to?" “Um… just… looking?” Misty asked, gesturing to the forge. “Isn’t there a piece missing, sir? It looks like there’s a piece that was taken out.” “That piece was removed by Commander Easy Glider. It’s under the control of the Wonderbolts. Now don’t you have a job to do?” Sun Glare asked sharply. Every iota of Stormy wanted to scream ‘liar’ at him… but he was the assistant manager of the factory. She was a fugitive who really shouldn’t be here. Keeping her face low, she turned and headed back inside. Stormy had expected to find missing bolts of lightning. Now what was she supposed to do? How could she expose a conspiracy without being caught up in it as well? Stormy walked along back towards where the carts were being loaded. Maybe if she followed to Balti- Wait… why wasn’t that bolt flickering? Stormy stared at the innermost bolt for several seconds. No flicker. Just a steady yellow glow. That wasn’t right. Crystalized energy flickered from the energy contained inside it. This bolt was flat. Dead. Stormy pointed at it with a hoof. “This isn’t Class A lightning,” she stated as Darkstar, Razorback, and Sun Glare walked past. “What are you talking about?” Sun Glare asked. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it is.” “It’s not, sir,” Stormy said as she pointed at the bolt. “No oscillation.” Then she pointed at the one next to it. “Nor that one… nor that one… that one…” Stormy’s blood ran cold as she realized that each of those fakes meant a missing bolt. How many of them were fakes? “They look like lightning to me,” Darkstar said with a small frown. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Get out of here. I’ll have you reassigned to…” Sun Glare paused as he stared at Stormy and Misty in their rubber suits and scowled. “Wait a minute, who are you?” His eyes widened in shock. “You!” Stormy did the only thing she could think of. It didn’t help that she had endured days, threats, attacks, and frustrations. She reached out with her hooves and hefted the enormous bolt and did something… rash. She threw it at him. Sun Glare gave a little fillyish shriek as he raised his hooves. The Lightning bolt struck him and shattered into a cloud of crackling, snapping motes of energy. Tracers of lightning flashed over him, and his skeleton was magically illuminated within as he spasmed wildly in the air and then, just like that, it was over. His mane stood on end, his blue coat blackened with scorch marks, and his body gave the tinest little twitchs. Both Darkstar and Razorback were untouched behind the glowing shield of magic that had warded off the shock. “If that was Class A lightning, we’d all be dead. It’s not. It’s a really big low charge class D. Lots of these are,” Stormy said as she pointed at the bolts lying undisturbed in their pillows. “You’re Stormy Skies! You’re that terrorist!” Sun Glare shouted, the real Class A lightning flickering brightly and making everyone tense. Stormy pulled off her goggles and tugged back the hood of the suit. “Help!” he shouted as he ran for the exit. “Stop him!” Stormy cried. At that moment, Razorback sprang on her, and his heavy weight crushed her to the floor. “No! Him! Stop him.” She struggled to get free. “Keep her there,” Darkstar said as he looked at the fleeing Sun Glare. His magic formed a glowing chain hooked to a manacle which zipped through the air at the blue pegasus. Magically it closed around his rear hoof, yanking him to a halt right where the lightning specialists were moving another bolt. The blue stallion flailed his hooves and wings as he fell, knocking into the four specialists and sending the flickering bolt flying… …straight back at the four of them. The Class A bolt flared with light as it flew through the air, the oscillations becoming unstable. The slightest impact and they’d burst from the crystal matrix and set off the rest. Stormy yanked her hind legs free and dove under the falling bolt. She spread her wings wide to distribute the impact wide enough. The bolt was twice her wingspan and immediately she felt herself drenched in static charge as she caught it across her wings. The rubber suit was keeping her from providing a path to discharge, but the magical field still tingled in every cell in her body. “No magic!” she hissed, the bolt’s field causing the magical chain to melt like wax from its proximity, increasing the bolt’s oscillation and instability. Fingers of lightning crackled out as the crystal matrix deformed, creating paths of escape. Normally a good thing. Not good if you were surrounded by dozens of other bolts. Don’t get everyone killed, Stormy, she thought furiously as sweat poured under the rubber, which was rapidly heating as well. The bolt was elongating, the oscillations stretching the matrix, trying to explode out the tips. Misty moved up to help but Stormy shook her head. Touching and moving lightning was an art. “Don’t touch it! No magic. Get out of here…” There was only one place she could think to throw it. She looked back at the door in the back of the vault. Misty moved aside, and Stormy started walking. Everypony moved back as she got to the door to the Thunderforge and pointed it inwards. One end was pointing towards the ancient machine and the other was pointed back into the vault and the rapidly scattering ponies. Stormy watched the wild oscillations running back and forth along the length, synchronizing… building… this was not the approved lightning discharge technique, but sometimes a pony had to improvise! The energy raced towards the point pointing at her friends and she gave the bolt a heave, launching it, spinning, in the air. The wave of energy raced back towards the other tip, and just as it passed, Stormy thrust her hoof up and struck the bolt in a careful, sharp tap. The impact created another oscillating wave trailing the first. The energy struck the tip and started back, hit the trailing wave she’d created, and then concentrated all the energy in the tip. She threw her face down and covered her head. The bolt transformed from a solid to energy three feet above her. Stormy’s layer of rubber shielded her from the countless fingers of crackling energy that blasted out above her. If it hadn’t, she would have been the next Rosewing. The vast majority of the energy blasted into the Thunderforge chamber, bouncing off the walls in a blinding circuit like a living, caged beast. Every impact sent dozens of white fingers of energy flashing deep into the clouds with a rumbling boom. In the other direction, some lightning discharged, but the other rubber-clad lightning specialists lifted into the air and caught the blast with their wings, keeping it from striking the other Class A bolts. Finally the bolt struck the Thunderforge directly. The dark stone sucked in the lightning like a sponge absorbed water. The eyes of the colossal Pegasi statues flared to life momentarily, then dimmed slowly. The machine released a tone like the ringing of a gong, so low that Stormy felt the vibration in her teeth. She also felt as if she’d come within a few seconds of being cooked. Class A lightning was not supposed to be handled in such a manner! “Get her out of here before she kills us all!” Sun Glare shouted. He started to run but Razorback charged him, pouncing upon him as he’d pinned Stormy earlier. “Non non non mon petit couchon,” Razorback told him . “You not goin’ anywhere till we got this figured out.” “He’s a criminal! He’s working with a brown stallion to steal the lightning!” Stormy countered. Her eyes flew from one pony to the next. Where was he? “He was dressed as a guard!” One brown stallion pointed at himself with a hoof and a baffled expression. “No! Not you!” Where was he? “Misty?” “I don’t see him either!” She looked from one guard to the next, but Brown was no where to be seen. Darkstar eyed them both skeptically. “Get her out of here! She’s insane! Completely in-” Sun Glare yelped. Then there was a loud bang from in the power plant outside the vault doors. One of the delicate, intricate, and powered devices erupted as the cannonball-sized thunderstone within went rocketing out of the casing. It obliterated the tubes holding water and channeling lightning, and the two mixed with explosive results. Another generator exploded, its thunderstone skipping down the central corridor and smashing into one of the parked wagons outside the vault. The impact blew the wagon apart as the stone continued through, straight at the vault, the lightning, guards, and workers. A wall of magic snapped up, the color such a dark purple that it bordered on black. The thunderstone struck it with such force that the thousand pound sphere exploded with a resounding crack. Countless pieces of wagon shrapnel pulverized themselves against the field of magic. As chaos reigned in the power plant, Stormy saw Darkstar standing with his hooves firmly planted. Even when lightning melted holes in his magic, he patched them within seconds. Just as suddenly as it began, the chaos ended. Only a few thunderstones still whirled plaintively in their housings. The heart of the weather factory was in ruins. Water sloshed from countless shattered pipes. Sparks spat fitfully into the air. The wagons that had been waiting for their bolts were smashed to pieces. But Stormy felt something was wrong. “That explosion wasn’t big enough.” “What?” Misty asked, pointing at the ruined room. “That wasn’t big enough?” “No!” Stormy said. “There were Class A bolts out there, remember?” It was hard to tell, but Stormy doubted there were enough pulverized remains for three wagons in all that mess. “She’s right,” Darkstar said grimly. He turned to the lightning specialists. “How many bolts did you put in the wagons?” “Just thee, or was it four?” The lightning specialist mare was clearly frazzled, and after that explosion, who wasn't a little rattled? “But we got a bigger problem. We need to get out of here. Now!” “No one is going anywhere till this is figured out,” Darkstar snapped. But Stormy saw what the specialist meant. Class A lightning was touchy stuff… particularly around magic and other lightning going off. The bolts that had rested in their beds peacefully now flickered erratically. With time, the specialists could stabilize one bolt, but not dozens. “They’re right! They’re unstable!” Stormy warned. “Out. Walk. Don’t run. No magic!” The specialists said tensely as everyone left the Vault. The specialists pulled a lever, and the doors closed. “That’s not going to contain the blast,” Stormy warned. “It doesn’t have to,” one of the specialist replied as the pair flew to two other large levers and pulled with all their strength. The floor below them let out a loud thunk, and there was a woosh as the vault disappeared into the floor. A second later the power plant filled with sunlight from the bottom of a shaft as the vault fell like a steel strongbox into the bog below. Across the gap, the Thunderforge sat in its chamber, with a faintly disapproving air about it. The vault disappeared beneath the colorful muck in seconds. Then the mire below exploded in a dazzling light show of arching lightning and crackling spheres. The electric display lasted for nearly a minute, the flashing and buzzing accompanied by a feculent reek. That was going to make taking inventory damned hard. “Bad day in the bayou,” Razorback said. Sun Glare started to inch towards the open door leading out of the power plant as more guards and pegasi rushed in. The gray earth pony hooked the pegasus’s neck with a forehoof and drew him almost casually into a choke hold. “Non non non,” he said absently, not taking his eyes off the still flickering swamp below. “Let me go! You can’t do this to me. I’ll sue!” Sun Glare protested. “When my lawyers get done with you- urrk!” He was silenced as Razorback tightened the chokehold. “Shhhh, you fâchè perruche,” Razorback said as his other hoof petted Sunglare’s mane. After several seconds, the assistant manager went limp and Razorback released the lock, but kept petting his mane. Darkstar totted up and looked down at Stormy and Misty gravely. “It seems there’s much more going on here than simply a lightning collection exploding. I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me,” he said as he looked down at Stormy. “You’re under arrest.” “Not again...” she groaned.