//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: The Way Home // Story: Flight 19 Act I // by ty500600 //------------------------------// Chapter 8: The Way Home “This human,” Sword raised a hoof towards the newly healed Thompson, “had attempted to strangle and kill a hospitalized pony who was completely defenceless. When we arrived at the hospital and entered the room where the human was being held, we found an elderly pony with a bit of surgical tubing wrapped around his neck. We believed him to be dead until he started breathing again.” Thompson wilted visibly as the statement progressed. The instant Golden Sword finished, Stivers jumped in. “He was being threatened, Your Majesty. He would never do something—” Celestia interrupted him with a raised hoof, “You will speak when spoken to, Captain Stivers. We will ask Thompson what happened.” Turning to Thompson, she gave him a rather deathly glare. “And we know when somepony is lying.” Stivers and the others turned to look at Thompson. “Go on, tell her,” the captain said. “State your case.” “Sir? What...I mean, why...” Gallivan elbowed him and leaned in quickly. “Howie, what part of ‘field court-martial’ are you not gettin’?” he whispered. “Tell ‘em what happened.” Thompson turned white as a sheet at this, the red blotches on his neck and face standing out lividly. “He...uh, that is, I woke up in bed. I called out...I think. Yeah, I did,” he said, his voice becoming a bit steadier. “I remember, because I didn’t hear anything but this damned beeping noise-” “Watch your language in the Royal Court,” Shining Armour growled. Thompson’s mouth clapped shut with an audible snap. Stivers leaned over and patted him on the shoulder. “Keep going. Just watch the salt.” “Yessir.” Thompson cleared his throat and tried again. “Well, I called out again, and I heard somebody tell me to ‘shut up, ponies are tryin’ to sleep.’ It didn’t make any sense, so I pulled the curtain back...” He made a sweeping motion with one arm. “Everything looked sorta normal, and I remember wondering why I was in a hospital, and why there was a television bolted to the wall, and then I saw the...guy...in the next bed.” “Was that when he threatened you?” prompted Luna. “Yes...yes ma’am.” Unsure of who or what exactly was standing in judgement over him, Thompson fixed his gaze between the two princesses and continued on. “He jumped up and was yelling and waving something black at me...I thought it was a gun. Said I couldn’t have it, and he’d stomp me if I tried to take it. I didn’t think, I just grabbed him, smacked it out of his hand and shoved him back on his bed.” “I saw it,” Golden Sword broke in, his voice suddenly bleak. “It was lying in a corner when we came in. It was the TV remote, Your Highness.” “The what?” Taylor broke in. “Never mind,” Celestia said quickly. “It was no weapon, Mr. Thompson. Go on.” “Well, I was just panicked, I guess. He was yelling like crazy and I was afraid he...” Thompson looked at Stivers. “I thought I was nutso, Cap. I thought he was a monster and that more monsters would come if I didn’t shut him up, so I just grabbed the IV line hanging there and tried to strangle him, you know, like they showed us at boot camp.” “It’s a basic self-defense technique,” Stivers said to Celestia. “We teach it to all our recruits in case they’re disarmed or trying to escape capture. They’re taught to use ropes, vines, or even their bare hands, if necessary.” “Your soldier is very lucky he didn’t learn very well,” she sighed. “This could have been a lot uglier than it is.” Celestia shook her head. “This also could have been avoided.” “If I woke up and saw that guy next to me in the hospital,” Crimson Hoof spoke up, “I’d have freaked out too. Can’t blame the poor pony.” “And my guy was defending himself,” Stivers shot back. “Or at least thought he was.” “Enough, everypony.” Celestia’s tone brooked no argument. “I believe we’ve heard enough to render judgement in this case.” She looked over at Luna, and the two sisters shared a long glance while silence hung thickly in the hall. Luna nodded and turned her gaze toward the group assembled before them. “Thou shalt hear our judgement and obey,” she said. The timbre of her voice had deepened, and the words carried clearly in the still air. “We shall weigh our judgement upon your return.” “Our return?” Stivers asked. “I thought we were here for a meeting with you.” the confusion on his face mingled with disappointment. “You must acquire an item for us,” Celestia intoned, all anger from the previous incident gone. “if you wish to return to your homeland.” “Wait,” Taylor interjected. “Aren’t you some sort of immortal god-princess kind of thing?” A nod from Celestia allowed him to continue. “They why don’t you just use your hippy-dippy magic and bring it here?” Shining Armour’s expression forced Stivers to stifle a chuckle, as the General looked on in pure horror. “Unfortunately,” Luna said coolly, suppressing snickers of her own, “This is an artifact of great value, which our magic has little effect on.” Taylor emitted a sheepish apology as Stivers looked quizzically towards the celestial goddesses. “So... in order for us to leave this... place,” he said, his voice dropping lower in tone as each facet was laid out, “we need to go on some quest, find some artifact, in a land we don’t know...” “Yes.” Celestia said. “You will leave once your escorts are outfitted for the journey.” “Escorts?” Sword asked. “Why do they need escorts?” “The artefact is deep in the gryphon territories, and they will need ponies with combat experience, and survival skill.” Celestia gestured to the ponies of the room, excluding Shining Armour, “And you five will be those escorts.” Golden Sword’s face shifted from confusion to pure unbridled horror. “But, Your—” “No ‘buts,’ Captain!” Celestia stated with enough force to make the humans cringe in fear. “You will be outfitted with whatever you require, and you leave immediately.” She punctuated her sentence by picking up the ten beings in question, and levitating them out of the room, much to the chagrin of the humans. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “What the fuck!” Taylor yelled. “Jesus-Tap-Dancing-Christ, what was that?” Gallivan asked in a slightly calmer tone. “Alright Fillies,” Golden Sword said as he stood and dusted himself off, clearly getting used to being forcibly thrown out of rooms by magical creatures. “You heard our benevolent goddesses.” The irony was dripping off of his scowl. “Let’s get to the armoury then.” “And take all the expensive weapons.” Taylor intoned. Midnight froze in mid-step and shot a look of disbelief at the tall lieutenant. “We can’t do that! They’re reserved for state functions, and besides, they’re more ornamental than practical— ” Taylor grinned and leaned over, rapping his knuckles lightly against the shoulder plate of her armor. “Gotcha.” “What?” Midnight looked at him uncertainly for a moment, and then the realization struck her: she was being had. “Ohhh, just you wait. I’m going to—” “Guys, wait.” Thompson said, his voice a bit more steady now that he was not on trial for his life. “We aren’t seriously going to just take them on their word, right?” Stivers looked towards the sergeant, motioning for him to continue. “I mean, think about it, sir. They didn’t give two fucks about us, and the minute we started asking questions they kicked us out.” He looked towards all of his companions, human and pony. “And maybe she’s gonna send us to our deaths? Us for being... well... us, and you,” he said, pointing to the ponies, “for knowing of our existence!” “Thompson, that’s ridiculous.” Stivers stated plainly. “There were at least thirty guards between here and the landing zone, as well as the rest of Sword’s squad.” “I thought this was all of his men?” Thompson queried. “Uh...oh yah, you were dead when that happened,” Taylor laughed. “There were about half a dozen other grunts with him when they picked us up. This is his core group of hardasses, apparently.” “Then maybe they’re the ones who get the dirty job.” “What job?” Thompson gestured around. “Core group of loyal troops. We go out on a ‘quest’ with them, and a few days later, they come back without us. And we’re never heard from again.” “Oh come on!” Taylor shook his head. “If they wanted to off us, they could have done that when they found us.” “Sir,” Gallivan broke in, “he does have a point. They didn’t know who the hell we were before we met Miss Majesty in there.” Golden Sword growled lightly at this. “Mind your tongue, there. She’s our leader and our protector, and she’s done things for this land you can’t imagine.” “My point being,” Gallivan continued, ignoring the Captain, “that know they do know what we are, and this is an easy way of getting us out of sight, no muss, no fuss.” Corporal Hoof spoke up. “Wait a minute, Sarge, that’s not what we—” “Don’t call me that, you little shit. You were quick enough to take that dimwit pony’s side in the hospital when Thompson was trying to defend himself in there.” Gallivan’s face flushed an ugly scarlet. “At least he knows who his friends are in here.” Everyone but Thompson looked at Gallivan in shock. The other sergeant had a mollified look on his face, content that at least somebody here was not entirely insane yet. “Gallivan, ease up,” Stivers said quietly. “He didn’t know what the heck happened in that room, and neither did we. It was an honest mistake.” “And I still don’t think it was a mistake,” Thompson said. “Captain, we have to find some way to get the hell out of here. I think this whole ‘quest’ is just a trick.” “Look, Thompson,” Stivers said, rolling his eyes. “We are dealing with an all-powerful government agency here. If they really wanted us gone, they could have done it in that throne room, and just cleaned it later. And for somebody looking to assassinate us, they worked pretty hard at saving your life, from the look of it.” “Are you saying you trust them, Cap?” Thompson retorted. “Who’s side are you on, huh?” “I am on the side of the United States of America!” Stivers shouted. “And you will not question me again, Sergeant! Understood?” Thompson lowered his eyes, scowling. “Yes Sir.” he stated mutely. “Well, as interesting of an exchange as that was,” Sword said, shifting on his hooves nervously. “We really should get going, lest we disturb Their Majesties, and we all get shitcanned.” “Wow, you have been hanging around us too long,” Taylor said. “Where’d you pick that one up?” All of the eyes in the room settled on the obviously edgy Captain, his rapid eye movements and restless pawing at the ground with one forehoof revealing his fear. “What’s got you so worked up Captain?” Midnight asked. “Nothing.” he replied, far too quickly. “Let’s just go, yah?” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The trip to the armoury was much like that to the throne room; full of odd twists, and similar halls. As the group wandered in a seemingly random direction led by Captain Sword, Taylor whistled aimlessly and Gallivan did his best to memorize the route. Stivers could eventually predict the reactions of all of the guard posts they encountered, as they all without question, sat and stared at the humans. The more ponies who stared at them, the more uneasy the unwavering Captain Sword became. Stivers took note of the reaction but said nothing; either the Captain was going to say what was bothering him, or not, and the Marine knew him well enough by now to know talking to him wasn’t going to push him one way or the other. They descended a short flight of stairs and made a left turn into a well lit corridor with archways on either side. Passing by a few of them, the humans noted several racks visible with armour somewhat like what their own guards were wearing, along with a few weapons visible. “Hey, how come you don’t keep these locked up? Anybody could walk in here and just help themselves.” Gruebel stopped and pointed in demonstration. “First of all, the armour is custom fitted for each pony.” Midnight didn’t bother to turn her head, but kept on following Sword. “Secondly, anypony who comes down this far into the castle is supposed to be here in the first place and isn’t going to steal anything.” Gruebel blinked. “Oh,” was all he managed. “I didn’t think about that.” “Clearly we ponies have less of a penchant for thievery than you.” She replied in a clipped tone. It was Taylor’s turn to look nonplussed as he glanced at the Sub-lieutenant. The cold, even tone of her voice was unlike what he’d been used to hearing lately; it was almost as if they were back in the field near the Everfree Forest, facing off against each other with a bear between them. “Well, we’re not all that bad....” “Here we are.” Golden Sword stopped at the seventh archway on their right side. “My own troops are well equipped at the moment, but there are some things in here that your pon...erm, people, may be able to use, Captain.” “Well, let’s take a look then, huh?” Stivers kept his tone neutral; there was some undercurrent in the group that had not been present before, and it bothered him. . Inside the room, weapons of all kinds were lined up against the wall. Everything from swords to bows and all in between. Greubel however, was not impressed. “How are we supposed to use these?” he asked. “With those fancy hands of yours?” Midnight quipped, earning a stare from her Captain. “What he means, Midnight, is that none of us have formal training in medieval weapons.” Stivers said, looking over the array of weapons. “It's easy to use these,” Gallivan said, eyeing a gladius. “just pick it up and swing.” As he did just that, Thompson was forced to duck as the sword was flung in his direction. “Holy fuck man!” Thompson screamed. “Are you trying to kill me?” Gallivan’s eyes were wide as saucers as he watched the sword ping off one of the other weapon racks, sending all of the weapons onto the floor with a clattering loud enough to wake the dead. A moment of shocked silence filled the room, until Taylor’s voice broke it in a deadpan tone. “Captain Sword, there’s your evidence. We’re all deadly killers and it’s time to get rid of us.” Crimson Hoof looked over the mess the human had made, eye twitching. “I’m not cleaning that up,” he stated evenly, looking towards Golden Sword to confirm what he said. “Sergeant,” Stivers said, “If I ever see you holding a sword again...” He let his sentence trail off, the threat clearly implied. Looking around the room again, Gallivan turned around and moved to a corner where he promptly sat on his hands. Stivers stood still for a moment, looking over the various weapons on display; the steel on the swords was polished to a high gloss, and he made a mental note to have anyone taking one of the things to blacken the edges before they even walked out the door. He walked down one aisle, hands clasped behind his back, humming an aimless tune. “What are you looking for, Captain?” Midnight walked over to pace behind him, her ears pricking up at the sound of his humming. “Gotta find Betty in here somewhere.” “Who?” “Sorry,” he chuckled. “It’s a catchall term I use. You want the right tool for the job, correct?” “Always.” she replied. “Well, in this case, we don’t exactly know what the right job is. So I need to find something that suits my abilities best instead. That way, I can be adaptable, at least.” He continued pacing down the aisle to the end, stopping to examine a row of spears critically. “No good with those.” Midnight cleared her throat. “Can I make a suggestion?” “Sure, go ahead.” “Try something with a little more range to it. I didn’t notice any of you using hand-to-hand weapons when we met you.” She went around him and cut across one aisle. “These, maybe?” “Hell yes!” Stivers stepped forward and glanced admiringly at the row of recurve bows that hung up in one corner. “Shit, I used to use one of these when I was a kid. We’d go out hunting...well.” Midnight quirked an eyebrow, “Well... what?” she asked innocently. Stivers seemed to lose his voice as she looked at him curiously, but eventually managed to whisper, “Deer.” Midnight laughed. “It’s quite all right, sir... I’m well aware you don’t exactly dine on hay and oats all the time.” “Yeah.” he said, blushing. “Anyway, this is something I’m familiar with, at least.” He walked along the weapons for a moment, picking up one occasionally and testing the heft. “I think this might do. It’s a bit small, but it feels strong enough.” He lifted it up and pulled it back to full draw, the ends of the bow curving back alarmingly. “Nice.” “Good pick,” Midnight said approvingly. “I may pick up a new one as well; the haft on mine is looking a bit weak lately.” “You can use a bow?” Stivers looked at her then her hooves, one eyebrow arched. “Hell, I guess you can, otherwise they wouldn’t be in here. Just... it’s kind of weird when you don’t have fingers.” He waggled his own in demonstration. “It’s easy.” She picked one up quickly and pulled it back to full draw in an eyeblink, her weight settling back on her haunches as she balanced. “You just pick it up, and pull back.” Taylor’s jaw would have hit the floor at that point, were it not connected with his face. “You know what?” he said to no one in particular. “I’m not even going to ask.” He then moved over to keep Gallivan company in the corner, mind thoroughly fucked. “Well I’ll be damned.” Stivers stated, voice low.. “You managed to shut Taylor up. I could hug you Midnight.” Midnight looked at the Captain, blushed, and shoved the bow into her pack before retreating back to her commander. “It was an expression, Midnight.” Stivers said quickly, trying to salvage what he could of the situation. “No, I know, it’s not that!” Her expression was as miserable as he’d ever seen it. “I...Captain, I want to apologize for what I said earlier. It was unfair, and uncalled for.” Stivers mulled that one over for a moment. “Fair enough. I’m sorry about Thompson...he’s really a good guy, and a hell of a Marine.” He waved a hand about aimlessly. “We’ve spent a little more time with you and I don’t think he’ll be like that once he gets to know you a little better.” “One can hope,” she said. Her tone was a little more normal though, and she managed a small smile. “Thank you, sir.” “Not a problem.” He hefted the bow again. “Now, where can we get some ammo for these? I need a little practice.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The group that finally emerged into the training courtyard was armed to such an eclectic degree that several of the guards stationed around the perimeter stopped to peer at them with interest, the disparity of species being only one topic of conversation. Stivers and Midnight each sported a recurved bow, each of cunning fashion and well strung with the coloured tail hairs of the bowyer who had wrought it, lending each weapon a definite distinctive appearance. Taylor had opted for one of the bows as well, but selecting instead a smaller short-bow with less draw and easier for him to load. The two humans also sported a small but vicious looking dagger on their belts for close-in defence. Golden Sword carried his namesake strapped to one side, the polished hilt gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. Gruebel carried a short stabbing sword; although the weapon was much more humble than the one the pegasus wore, it served much the same purpose. Crimson Hoof carried one of similar design and size, but the edge was slightly curved, giving it the look of a shortened cavalry sabre. Shining Star and Thompson each carried a spear, with the former carrying his weapon strapped crosswise over his back between his wings, and the latter using the pony-sized weapon almost like a walking-stick. Only Shadow and Gallivan were unarmed: the pony by choice, and the human by necessity; the Marine had reluctantly admitted that none of the archaic weapons felt comfortable and that he felt better off with his own two hands and whatever the situation might present. Shadow had opined that, between the two of them, they could handle whatever danger might present itself, thereby sparing the officers the possibility of chafing, blisters and self-inflicted wounds. That comment had broken the moodiness that had surrounded Gallivan since the unpleasant scene in the throne room; he had burst out laughing and clapped the pony on the shoulder. “Be damned if you don’t even talk like a Marine.” The two now brought up the rear of the procession in companionable silence as the group made their way into the center of the courtyard. Stivers paused in mid-stride, stopping to watch a small group of ponies engaged in what appeared to be some sort of self-defence course. The instructor was shouting in a hoarse, almost screeching voice at one of his pupils who had apparently offended him. “Sooo, we want to learn about pointed sticks, do we? Feeling all high and mighty, eh? Fresh fruit not good enough, eh? Oh oh oh. Welll, let me tell you something, my lad!” The instructor closed in on the student, who, understandably to Stivers’ eye, shrank back. “When you’re walking home tonight, and some ponycidal maniac comes after you with a bunch of loganberries, don’t come crying to me!” “What in the holy hell is he talking about?” Stivers glanced over at Golden Sword. “I took three different self-defence courses and even taught one at Parris Island one year, and I never had to show anyone how to defend against produce.” “That’s Old Fruity,” Shadow said. “Sergeant Gorseberry Jam, really, but everyone in my class just called him Old Fruity. Best unarmed instructor you’ll ever see, and none of his students has ever let him down yet. I was the only one in my class to graduate,” he said proudly. “Really? He’s that tough, huh?” “Yes sir. If you don’t survive, you don’t graduate.” All of the humans did a double-take at that. “Survive?!” Grubel’s voice shook. “Holy Christ.” Shadow grinned. “Yeah, it’s a great motivator.” “I’d say.” Taylor glanced at the students, feeling a sudden overwhelming sense of sympathy at their pensive expressions. “Uh, let’s try training at a less lethal level, guys, what do you say?” “Yeah, bleeding out on the training ground isn’t going to help us out much.” Stivers glanced around. “Okay, everyone split up and find a place to work on your technique. Daylight’s wasting, and I don’t think we have a lot of time.” “True enough,” Golden Sword said. “I would recommend leaving at first light in the morning; all of our provisions should be ready by then, and we’ll have the benefit of a good night’s sleep.” “Sounds like a plan to me.” agreed Stivers. “Okay people, let’s move.” Stivers headed toward a row of archery targets in one corner, Taylor following him close behind. At a command from Sword, the ponies spread out as well, each group heading off to an unoccupied area to practice with their particular choice of weapon and accompanied by one of the pilots. Golden Sword and Crimson Hoof headed over to a line of practice dummies, each shaped like a rearing creature with some sort of weapon tacked on. Gruebel followed behind, examining the targets for a moment with a critical eye. There were several pony-shaped mannequins, one that looked like an eagle with lion-like legs, and one God-awful looking shape on the end that the Marine immediately recognized. “Crap, I remember that thing from the woods.” “Oh yes, the Manticores,” Sword said. “They’re fairly nasty creatures on average.” “You got that right,” Crimson Hoof muttered. Gruebel looked at the shape askance, noting the scorpion-like tail that arched over the beast’s head, as well as the outstretched paws, each with sharp hooks of metal embedded in them to simulate claws. One fuckup with this baby, and I’ll be shedding very realistic blood. He drew his sword and examined it for a moment. “How am I supposed to get inside the reach of those claws? The arms are twice as long as my reach with this.” Golden Sword laughed. “That’s the point of the exercise, then, isn’t it? Here, I’ll give you an assist.” The Captain moved over to behind the stuffed creature and flipped a lever. The outstretched arms dropped down. Crouching on his haunches, the pony gripped two other short handles behind the mannequin. His forelegs moved oddly, and in response, the faux manticore’s forepaws rose up to match Sword’s movements as he controlled it from behind. “Come at me, and we’ll run through some parries and ripostes. You never just charge in at the beast, you have to wait for it to make a mistake.” Gruebel set his feet and hefted his sword, then glanced at the pony behind the target. “Wait...what if I make a mistake first?” Golden Sword’s features assumed a predatory grin that Gruebel remembered quite well from his own instructors at boot camp. “My advice would be....don’t.” The Marine swallowed heavily. “Aye-aye, sir,” he muttered. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The group found themselves walking back to the throne room shortly after sunset, following Captain Sword through the seemingly identical hallways yet again. Looking back on the day of training, Stivers surmised that they weren’t ready, but had very little choice in the matter. Like it or not, they were going. Stivers had been impressed, if somewhat perplexed, by Midnight’s technique with the bow. Her form made no sense to him; her holding it in in her hooves, rearing back to fire each arrow with a smooth, methodical motion. She was also a better shot than him, which really gave him perspective on the land. They all knew how to do what they did well. Gallivan and Shadow had spent the better part of the afternoon sparring, hand to hoof. Gallivan had shown his skill towards Shadow by beating him seventeen to sixteen. The results were not very noticeable on the pony, but the Marine sported several interesting hoof-shaped bruises here and there, and both of them were a bit slower and stiffer in their stride than when they’d gone out earlier. Shining Star had shown Thompson the intricacies of spear fighting, which, while few in number, were surprisingly complex. The human had nearly mastered the art of thrusting the weapon forward from a set position when Star decided to test him one on one. The result was that Thompson had several minor cuts on him from when he failed to block, and a bit of grudging respect for the guard pony. They had worked on blocking after that, and Thompson had progressed enough that Star pronounced his work satisfactory, at least for a beginner. Taylor proved to be fairly adept with his short bow. However out beyond one hundred yards, he couldn’t ‘hit the broad side of Celestia’s flank’, as Midnight put it. The Lieutenant switched his focus to speed instead, and was now reasonably quick at nocking an arrow and letting fly at the target, although Midnight put both him and Stivers to shame; her speed and accuracy simply were not imitable. As Sword led them around a familiar corner, Stivers took note once again of the decorated frieze that paneled both sides of the immense hallway leading to the main throne room. He started to remark on the strangely blank panels showing the moon hanging in a starlit sky, then paused. “Shh...anyone else hear that?” The group shuffled to a stop, heads tilting and ears pricking up on the ponies. Several muffled voices could be discerned through the doors ahead, rising and falling in what was clearly an argument of some sort. The voice of both princesses could be heard, sometimes overlapping one another, occasionally punctuated by an interjection of a heavier male voice. “Oh shit,” Stivers breathed. “It’s that asshole we ran into when we first got here. Field Marshal whatsit...” “Shining Armour,” Sword supplied. “It would appear that not everypony is in agreement about your little... trip.” “Our trip, buddy.” Taylor looked over at the pony Captain. “You’re in this with us too, remember?” “All too well,” Sword replied in a grating tone. “Let’s get this over with.” He moved forward, and without bothering to knock, the guardspony shoved one of the doors open with a forehoof and walked through the opening. The heated conversation instantly stopped, and Celestia, Luna, and Shining Armour all turned to stare at the Captain in surprise. “I can see our guests have let their manners rub off on you, Captain.” the stallion said. “You’ve already forgotten protocol, not to mention knocking.” “I tend to forget such things when I hear my Princesses arguing with somepony,” Golden Sword bit off. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on?” “We’re very safe, Captain, I assure you,” Celestia said in a tone more resembling her normal speaking voice. “Just talking over some... internal matters we happen to disagree with the General on.” “‘Disagree.’ That’s rich,” Luna muttered. “Now,” Princess Celestia interjected, “Why are you still here? I do believe I told you to be off on your quest?” her eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Your Highness,” Sword spoke to the princess, throwing protocol out the window entirely. “You never actually said where we are to go, or what we are looking for.” “We decided to get a day of practice in.” Stivers mentioned offhandedly, earning a glare form Sword. “Regardless of my actions,” Celestia looked to her sister, who nodded. “You were told to leave and you have not done so. You will receive disciplinary action upon your return, Captain.” Golden Sword’s eye twitched. Luna’s horn flared brightly, and a rolled-up parchment appeared in the air before her, hovering. “The item you are seeking,” she said, unrolling it to reveal a map, “is a Pentachoron. It will be—” “What the fuck is a Pentachoron?” Taylor said, holding his head as if even the word ushered pain. “Well,” Luna said, looking offended. “I was going to tell you, but now you get a riddle.” She closed her eyes and began speaking in a low, sonorous voice. “What you seek will be found, twixt the sky and the ground / on a pedestal of three, thou shalt find me. The key to my secret will come from a friend / All you desire will be found within.” Silence descended for a moment as she finished. “Well, that was mysterious, I guess,” Crimson Hoof said. “Terribly mysterious,” Luna corrected with a smile. “Did you like it?” “Sure, why not.” Taylor said. “Can we at least get a country to work off of, though?” Celestia looked to the brash Lieutenant. “It is in a Griffon monastery. The only Griffon monastery in existence. I trust you can find it easily enough.” Taylor looked over at Stivers, then back at the princesses. “Sure, eventually. The map would help a lot, though, you know?” He waved a hand in a wandering motion. “The whole direction thing is a bit vague.” Celestia sighed crossly. “Oh, very well. Although the Elements of Harmony never needed this much assistance.” Her own horn flared alight and the map floated over to Taylor’s outstretched hand. “Make of it what you will.” Stivers leaned over to study the parchment for a moment. “Wait...is the scale on this thing accurate?” Luna snorted. “Of course. I drafted it myself.” “Jesus Christ, we’ll spend a year or two getting to this place!” The map showed Equestria laid out clearly...in one small corner. The apparent object of their journey was marked at the extreme other end of the land mass on the map with an ubiquitous ‘X.’ “I thought you were trying to get us home in a hurry.” “Well then, I suggest you find some alternate means of transportation that’s faster,” Celestia said with a smirk. “And no, you may not use my chariot again. That would be cheating.” “Cheating?” Stivers face was becoming redder by the moment. “This is no game, Your Highness.” “On that, we agree. So I recommend you get started as soon as possible,” Celestia stated, her horn glowing softly around the edges again. “I want you on your way by first light tomorrow. I’d also recommend you take a shower soon, Captain Stivers...you’re starting to become a bit offensive in company.” “Why you...” The Marine’s reply was cut off in an all too familiar flash as the group was teleported out of the throne room, Luna’s laughter ringing in their ears. A/N: Sorry again about the wait guys. I was not expecting this chapter to take so long, but a culmination of at home things kept me from writing. There is good news however, and I hope you will all think so too, as it should exponentially increase the speed with which I post these chapters! My Editor, Dave Morris (http://www.fimfiction.net/user/DMoFL71), has joined the crew as a Co-Author, since Ty hasn't really had the time to assist. A round of applause to Dave, everyone. In other news: The plot for this story is fleshing out quite well, and you should all be looking forward to an exciting ride for when the story actually starts to pick up, and the adventure tag kicks in. Sorry about it not being very adventure-y sooner, but all of the fluff text caught up on me. As always, enjoy the read, and point out any mistakes we failed to catch. ~GoldenArbiter PS I will be taking on the colour of orange (gold) because Dave likes red better. ************************ Guess I have to stop lurking in the shadows and say hello now. I was already following this story when I saw Arbiter's request for editors/proofreaders awhile back. I immediately e-mailed him and offered my services, such as they were. I lucked out in that regard. I got to look inside a story that I was already enjoying and found it was going to go into some really fun and interesting places. And I got to meet someone who turned out to be not only a very good writer, but one hell of a good friend as well. To quote a favorite pony of mine: "Best day EVER!" I appreciate the opportunity, and I hope you all enjoy everything to come. I'm going to hush now, be quiet now, as both Fluttershy and Golden Sword are giving me an ominous stare... -D..M. ******************************