• Published 16th May 2013
  • 3,139 Views, 160 Comments

No Heroes Part I - The Roster - PaulAsaran



Equestria has its heroes, stars and icons. Everpony knows their names. But with a new threat brewing in secret, perhaps it will be the noponies, the cameos, and the extras that will make the difference. The backup plan is in motion...

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Outside the Dragon Storm

The train rumbled on in the early morning, trees making the sun sparkle in her eyes. A wakeup call from Celestia, or so it seemed. The Mare frowned at the bright light and lowered the shade just enough to stop the insistent flashing. She sat up slowly and yawned with a big, pleasant stretch. She was starting to get used to these train rides. There was a time when sleeping on one was near impossible. Now she hardly noticed the noise and jerky motions. Indeed, the constant ka-klak ka-klak of the rails had become something of a lullaby, the rocking cars as pleasant as a baby’s crib.

In a way, these trains were starting to feel just like home.

She studied her reflection in the mirror through droopy eyelids. Her thick, dark-gray mane waved before her face like a composer’s baton. She followed its movements with her eyes, imagining herself on stage before a crowd. The hair was her baton, and the forest beyond the glass pane her orchestra. Hooftoskie’s Sonnet Naturale crept its way into her mind, and she took a moment to indulge in her mental performance.

Ah yes, the crescendo, the crowds applauding. She smiled at the thought. It wasn’t a perfect daydream. If it were, the music would have been her own. Someday, perhaps. Someday.

She took a moment to wash her face, fix her hair, apply appropriate makeup. It was nice to have a private cabin. A few years ago the luxury seemed an eternity away, but now it was something she could afford. Barely. When she checked her reflection again she was a pony of culture and class. Perfect.

Leaving her things behind, she entered the car’s hallway and made for the dining car next door. She sat in her favorite booth, the one next to the window with the crack running down its side and the seat facing the rear of the train. She liked to watch things move away, because she preferred to remember where she came from.

The server pony recognized her. “The usual, miss?”

“Of course.” The Mare had a light voice, with a certain soprano quality. Not the voice she might have preferred, but it suited her fine. It worked well with the practiced high-class accent, too.

She got comfortable against the window, watching the passing scenery with a smile. Everything seemed so…right this morning. The sun was shining, the train ride was relaxing, and she was on her way home. Yes, a nice day. She was looking forward to it.

“Pardon me, is this seat taken?” The Mare, distracted from pleasant daydreams, turned to find a rather peculiar pony at her table. She had a yellow coat and white mane, but it was her clothing that caught the eye: a reddish-pink dress with white décor and frills over a blue sweater and thick round sunglasses that completely obscured her eyes.

“No,” the Mare acknowledged, “go right ahead.” In truth, she was a little annoyed; this was her booth, a place of peace and relaxation! She didn’t want anypony else to be there, at least not now. But a cursory glance around revealed that all the other seats really were taken, and she was by no means a rude pony.

“Oh, thank you, darling,” the stranger answered with a winning grin. “Picture Perfect, photojournalist extraordinaire. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

No, no she hadn’t. But the Mare wouldn’t let that come out. “A pleasure. I’m—”

“But of course it’s a pleasure, why wouldn’t it be? I’m on my way back from documenting a scandalous little adventure in Las Pegasus, so very scandalous! I’d love to share, but the Canterlot Highlights bought first dibbs, and I’m no snitch, oh no, Darling.”

“I see…” The Mare suddenly didn’t want to be at the table, anymore. Yet she would be a good filly and pay attention, or at least try to. There didn’t seem any point in talking; Picture Perfect did enough of that for the both of them.

“Of course, if I were feeling particularly devilish, I might be tempted to share the teensy-tiniest bit of information! So many ponies would just kill for a real scoop these days. That’s what makes me so special, of course, I always find the good stuff. Oh.” She noted the server pony who’d arrived with the carrot and pecan salad. “I’d like a clover salad, and could you add some basil and rosemary to the mix? Thank you darling. Were was I?”

“Ummm,” the Mare started, pulling her plate close.

“Good stuff, of course!” Perfect fired on. “I have an eye for the perfect image, the shot that reveals all the darkest secrets of Equestria’s finest. I even took some juicy photos of Princess Cadance with a dashing unicorn from the Royal Guard. Oh so scandalous!”

“Are you sure that qualifies as dark?” her reluctant companion asked, glad to finally have gotten a full sentence in. Feeling a little proud of the achievement, the Mare decided to sit the rest out and enjoy her salad while her visitor rambled.

“Oh, perhaps not dark dark, no, but still a photo for the ages!” Perfect raised a very modern-looking camera from her purse, displaying it with head held high. “My baby! She caught the whole thing, oh yes she did, and the press adored it! The pinnacle of my career, I might say. But pinnacles were made to be knocked down, and I intend to knock my own out of the park! These new photos from Las Pegasus aren’t quite so jaw-dropping of course – the fancy owner of a casino is nothing compared to a princess – but even so I just know everypony will be digging their teeth into them.”

Was she even aware that she’d revealed the topic of her photos, and thus the content she’d undoubtedly uncovered? The Mare tried to enjoy her salad, but it just wasn’t happening with this noisome pony constantly yammering. No, no, she would be civil and patient.

She eyed a quartet of foals walking by, looking a bit too young to be traveling on their own. It was a boring distraction, but she had to have something to help her cope with this.

“But that’s the glory of the job!” Picture Perfect was still rambling, not noticing her audience’s straining attention. “A journalist is the epitome of honor. We find the wrongdoings, the dirty little secrets, and expose them to the public! It is our duty to find the perpetrators and bring them to justice. Can you think of a more noble, more honorable calling? No, of course you can’t, darling, how could you? We are the knights of the modern Equestria, our cameras are our swords! Oh, that looks delicious.”

A precious moment of silence while the server pony delivered Perfect’s salad.

That's when all hell broke loose.

Brakes screamed, the car rocked, and suddenly the Mare's booth was flying backwards. The noise was like an explosion of snapping wood and shattered glass! There was no time to think or brace for impact. She could see ponies being flung about like dolls, panic and fear and shock emblazoned on their faces.

And then silence.

She was on her back against the wall of the car...which was now the floor. She took a moment to feel herself and be sure she was in one piece, and thanked Celestia that she seemed uninjured.

Her mind was brought into focus by a flashing white light. As she stood tenderly back on four legs, she saw ponies lying all over the wrecked car. Some were climbing to their hooves, others remained down, moaning in pain. Among them was Picture Perfect. Clickflash, clickflash.

“W-what are you doing?” the Mare asked, barely remembering to keep the high-class accent.

“Recording!” Perfect spun about and flashed a shot in her face. “Ponies all over Equestria are going to want to see this!”

The Mare shoved the camera from her face and stepped past Picture Perfect towards the front of the car. She wanted to see what was happening, but the door wouldn’t open. Well, there was more than one way to skin a cat; she turned and began bucking. It took several tries, and the camera kept flashing the whole time. It was rapidly getting annoying. At last the door’s hinges snapped, and it dropped to the grass noisily.

Ducking her head to get through the horizontal opening, the Mare stepped outside and was shocked to see the five cars ahead squashed together like an accordion. Not far away was the Ponyville train station where she could see ponies rushing to help. Behind the diner car was a scene of vehicular destruction the likes of which she wouldn’t forget soon.

What had happened?

She returned to the car, bumping into Picture Perfect as she did. The accursed pony still had that camera out!

“Stop taking photos and help me,” the Mare snapped, shoving the photojournalist aside and assisting an elderly pony on the floor.

“No time,” Perfect cried, moving for the door. “There’s history to be recorded here!”

The Mare ground her teeth and continued her work. Soon ponies were entering the car and helping. A white stallion with a blond mane and dressed as a station attendant was helping get ponies out of the train. “What happened to the train?” she asked him, helping an older mare out of the train.

The attendant cursed as he slipped on some broken glass. He was struggling to help a white unicorn almost twice his size. “Ponyville’s…got a dragon problem.”

“A dragon!?”

“A dragon,” the attendant repeated as they delivered their respective rescuees to the ponies outside. “Came out of nowhere, grabbing everything it could! It took part of the rail line from the tracks. You know the rest.”

“Where is it now?” she asked with concern.

Help!” They turned to see Picture Perfect fleeing towards them, a fifteen-foot lizard charging behind her. “You can’t have my camera, you beast!”

“Spike want!”

“It talks!” the Mare cried.

“It’s coming this way,” the attendant corrected, running back to the dining car and presumed safety.

So it was. The Mare’s thoughts were fast; she moved aside, waited for Picture Perfect to come alongside, then threw herself into her. The two collapsed sideways just as the dragon pounced, missing them by the hair on their tails. The thing was so focused on them it didn’t notice the tree, smacking right into it.

The dragon shook its head, stood and caught sight of a police pony carrying a baton. The stallion was shaking in his uniform.

The dragon pointed at the baton. “Spike want!”

The officer fled, dragon hot on his tail.

“Are you alright?” the Mare asked.

“Oh, just fine, thank you darling.” Perfect stood and brushed herself off. “Such a ruffian, going after my baby like that! No respect for journalism.”

“W-what’s going on?”

They turned to find three fillies crawling out from under the train. She recognized them as the ones she’d spotted in the dining car. They didn’t seem hurt, but they were clearly confused and afraid. She glanced about at the carnage; this was no place for children.

She stepped up to the fillies. “Are you three okay?”

They nodded in unison. “But our friend’s not. He got hurt, and we can’t get him up.”

“Show me.”

They took her around the car to the next one, which was lying at a right angle from the tracks. Another camera flash. The Mare wanted to snap at Perfect, but felt it wouldn’t help the foals any to do so.

Their friend was a small green colt with a blue mane. He had fallen through a window and was caught beneath the train car. He looked like he was in a lot of pain.

She ducked beneath the car, which was precariously upheld by the wreckage of another car. “Hey, young stallion. You okay?”

The poor guy was in tears. “I can’t move my leg,” he whimpered. “It hurts. Really, really hurts.”

“You’re going to be okay, sweetie,” the Mare assured him, trying to keep an edge of confidence in her tone. “You just give me a moment, and we’ll have you out of there.”

One of the fillies got under the car next to her. “Don’t worry, Green, we’ll get you out!”

She backed out of the wreckage, pulling the filly out by the tail and depositing her with the other two. “You three stay here,” she ordered. “We’ll see to your friend, okay?” They nodded with shared expressions of worry.

She turned to Perfect, who was still clicking away. “It’s too dangerous for these three to help. Keep an eye on them.”

“Yes, yes, whatever you say Darling.” Clickflash, clickflash.

The Mare was going to buck that pony’s camera down her throat if this continued.

It took several precious minutes to round up a few stallions. They all got together beneath the car and struggled to lift it, but the thing wouldn’t budge even with half a dozen ponies. The Mare was starting to worry, but she kept under the car and continued to encourage the poor colt. He was scared, but he kept calm calm, and for that she could only be grateful.

After a few tries, the stallions all gathered around her. They all shared fretful expressions as they discussed the situation.

“This isn’t working,” one of them announced.

“The lot of us together can’t move it, so now what?”

“Maybe we can get Ambrosia to cut him out?”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Compared to being stuck under a train car?”

“Point taken.”

“What’s going on here?” They all looked up to find a blue-coated, periwinkle-maned mare approaching them. “Why aren’t you all helping?”

“Shoeshine,” one of the stallions called, “you know where Ambrosia or one of her crewmates are? We need help!”

They quickly explained the situation, the earth pony observing the fallen car. “I know just what you boys need! Give me a moment.”

The Mare ducked under the car again to reassure Green. When she came back out Shoeshine was already on the way back, accompanied by what had to be the biggest stallion the Mare had ever laid eyes on. Well, he certainly looked like he’d have the muscle!

“He’s down there,” Shoeshine explained to him, and he bent low to observe the colt. “You can lift this thing, right?”

“Eeyup.”

The big red stallion positioned himself beneath the car and started to lift, straining from the huge weight. The other stallions were quick to join in. They struggled and pushed and lifted and fought, and to the Mare’s amazement the car actually began to rise! She crawled under as quick as she could to Green and encouraged him to try moving. It took several seconds, but at last his leg came free. She caught him up and dragged him out, and the stallions dropped the big thing with a resounding crash.

The colt was in tears, but his filly friends were there quick to cheer his brave escape. Meanwhile the adults were crowding around the big red stallion and cheering.

Clickflash, clickflash, clickflash!

“The brave hero stallion, risking life and limb to save the terrified colt!” Picture Perfect was grinning from ear to ear. “I smell a Foallitzer!”

Nevermind the other stallions. Or the Mare, who risked getting crushed under the car to pull the colt out! No, be civil, be civil

“Oh, you poor thing,” Shoeshine cooed, joining them. “Such a brave young stallion!”

“Thanks for the help,” the Mare noted.

“Of course!”

“Are you okay, Green Daze?” one of the fillies asked seriously.

Green rubbed his eyes free of tears. “I dunno… My leg still hurts, and I can’t move it.”

“Probably broke,” Shoeshine noted, studying the colt’s limp back leg. Right at that moment, a warning siren began to go off from somewhere in the town. The three fillies clung together at the sound.

“Seems like that dragon’s still around,” the Mare announced, setting Green Daze on her back. “We need to get these children to shelter.”

“Let’s go to my place,” Shoeshine offered, “it’s nearby. Come on, girls.”

They galloped into town, and all noticed the dragon. Somehow in a very short time it had become huge! Probably fully grown.

Clickflash, clickflash!

“Would you put that thing away for five seconds?!”

“And miss my chance to be Equestria’s most famous photojournalist?” Picture Perfect asked with a grin. “Not a chance!”

Shoeshine’s house was a nice two-story place which didn’t quite match her mane in color. It was a nice place, far larger than the mare could afford in Canterlot. But then, space wasn’t at such a premium in Ponyville.

“Now don’t you worry,” Shoeshine told the foals as everyone settled in. “We’ll just wait here until things settle down.”

“But what about Green’s leg?” one of the fillies asked nervously as the Mare set the colt down on a couch.

“We’ll just have to keep him comfortable until the dragon leaves,” Shoeshine answered with a reassuring smile. “Then we’ll take him to the doctor, and he’ll be fixed up right as rain!”

Green looked up at her with big eyes. “But what if the dragon doesn’t leave?”

The Mare and Shoeshine gave one another worried looks, but tried to hide them with quick smiles. “Oh, that won’t happen,” Shoeshine offered with a nervous chuckle. “I’m sure somepony is taking care of this right now!”

Clickflash, clickflash!

The two mares glared at Picture Perfect. She was at the window, camera pressed against the glass.

“If you’re that eager to get a Foallitzer Prize,” the Mare asked with strained pleasantness, “why aren’t you out there trying to get close to the dragon?”

“No need,” Picture Perfect answered, “he’s decided to come in for a close up!” There was a loud creaking, then snapping, and suddenly the second floor of the building was pulled away.

“M-my house!” Shoeshine was almost in tears.

The dragon, big and purple and mean-looking, glared at them before looking down at Picture Perfect. Of course, he’d spotted the flash.

“Everypony out, now!” the Mare cried, grabbing Green and charging for the door. The others didn’t argue. A massive purple claw swept down and just missed Perfect as she led the way out with a cry. The fillies were squealing their poor heads off!

Shoeshine took just a moment to buck a large, purple toe, which elicited little more than an annoyed glance from the dragon. “You beast! I just finished paying the mortgage on this place!”

The dragon let out a fearsome roar that sent her scrambling after the others.

The Mare noted Perfect running along beside her. She’d had just about enough of that one. “If you’re going to keep following me around,” she snapped, “ditch the camera!”

Never,” the photojournalist countered with a snarl. “This camera is my life!”

“That’s what it’s going to cost you if things keep on like this,” the Mare noted. She looked back and was horrified to see the dragon hot on their tails. By Celestia’s multihued mane, what were they going to do now?!

“This way,” one of the fillies cried, darting through a small opening between two houses. They all followed, getting through just in time to escape a massive claw as the dragon became stuck between the buildings. He roared and tried to pound them with a giant fist, but just couldn’t reach.

The Mare started to flee out the other side, but Shoeshine jumped in her way. “No! Stay here, he can’t get to us in here.”

The Mare glanced back at the dragon and noted the cracks forming in the buildings. “That won’t hold him for long. We have to get these foals out of here!”

Clickflash, clickflash.

The dragon snarled and tried to grab Picture Perfect, but still couldn’t quite reach.

“Would you stop that?” Shoeshine snapped.

“But I need a close up shot!”

“What we need,” the Mare corrected, “is help.”

Just at that moment an orange stallion appeared on the other side of the alley, dressed in yellow and pulling a taxicarriage. “Get in, hurry!”

“Rick Shaw!” one of the fillies cried. “Our hero!”

“Thank you thank you thank you,” the Mare added, helping Shoeshine get the foals into the carriage. The dragon rose up and pounded on the two houses in a single mighty strike that sent pieces of wood and plaster flying.

“Go go go!” Shoeshine shouted as the three mares leapt into the carriage. It wheeled away just as the dragon finished the houses with another destructive smash of its claws. “Geez, he really wants that camera!”

“I’d rather die,” Perfect cried even as she snapped more shots of the dragon, which was climbing over the wreckage in pursuit.

“I’ll save him the trouble,” the Mare snarled.

Rick Shaw was fast, but the dragon was faster. It loomed over them, catching up within a matter of seconds. It swiped a claw, knocking the back of the carriage so that it tilted and swayed wildly. The foals screamed as the vehicle threatened to tip over. Rick was forced to slow down in his struggle to prevent an accident. It was all the dragon needed; he caught the carriage in both claws and lifted it clear off the ground.

Shoeshine held the foals against the back of the carriage protectively, supported by an unsupportive Picture Perfect, who'd fallen against them. The Mare struggled to hold on to the front, Green Daze still on her back. There was screaming, there was fear. She gazed up and saw the dragon bent over, looking her right in the eye.

She had had enough.

“Take Green,” she snapped, shaking Green off. The colt cried out in surprise and landed among the other ponies. Freed, the Mare climbed up onto the front of the carriage. “I don’t care if you want a camera or the entire carriage: you will leave these foals alone!” And with that she spun about and bucked the dragon in the eye. Hard.

The beast let out a surprised, pained shout and flung the carriage away. The Mare closed her eyes and prayed that she’d not made a terrible mistake. She could feel herself flying, and quickly lost track of her orientation. Right-side up? Upside-down? All she knew was that she was flying, and the landing wouldn’t be pleasant.

She hit the ground, hard. Her body rolled and twisted, and finally she ended up face down in the grass. Her entire body ached and the world swam in circles. Yet only one thought was on her mind: what had happened to the foals? To Shoeshine and Rick Shaw? Even Picture Perfect?

The world finally began to return to a sense of normalcy, and she slowly forced herself up onto four legs. A couple wobbly steps to get her bearings, and at last she was able to lift her head and look around. The carriage, where was the carriage?

She didn’t see it. However, she did see a massive hole in the roof of a nearby schoolhouse. The sight of a carriage wheel hanging haphazardly from the bell tower would have been enough to tell her what happened, but seeing Rick Shaw clinging to the top of the flagpole sealed the deal.

She took a moment to check for the dragon; she could see it over the rooftops of the town, actively stealing things. Clearly it has lost all interest in them, thank goodness.

She entered the schoolhouse, calling out for the fillies. She found Picture Perfect stuck head-down in a student’s desk far too small for her. The Mare ignored the photojournalist; she could get herself out. A quick look around revealed Shoeshine on her back behind the teacher’s desk, still woozy from the impact.

The Mare helped her sit in the vacant teacher’s desk. “Are you okay?”

“No, n-no I am not,” Shoeshine cried, or would have cried if she were able. Instead, it came out hoarse, the air having been knocked out of her. “My house is gone… My garden is probably trampled to powder… And…and now…now I’m getting thrown around by dragons. None of this is fine!” The poor thing was on the verge of tears.

The Mare felt sorry for her, but there was a more pressing issue at hand. “The foals. Where are the foals?”

“In the carriage,” Shoeshine muttered.

She looked around the schoolroom. “But where’s the carriage?”

Shoeshine pointed a hoof up, face grim. The Mare followed the motion and gasped; the wrecked carriage was hanging from the rafters, dangling dangerously over their heads.

She ran to the center of the room and reared back. “Fillies! Green Daze, are you there?”

One of the fillies poked her head over the side, rubbing her head with a hoof and groaning. “Oooh… We’re all here…”

“Is everypony okay?” she asked, “Tell me everypony’s okay!”

“Y-yeah, I think so,” the filly answered, shaking her head as if to clear it. “They make the cushions on these things pretty soft.”

Thank Celestia! “Stay right there, sweetie! Don’t move, and we’ll have you down in a moment. Whatever you do, don’t rock the carriage!” They survived a train wreck, a dragon attack, and crashing into a schoolhouse in a flying carriage. Now would be the appropriate time for their luck to run out. With this in mind, the Mare thought frantically for a solution.

She cast a glance at Shoeshine. The pony was leaning against the teacher’s desk and rubbing her shoulder as if it were hurting. She looked absolutely miserable. Perhaps it would be better… The Mare turned to see Picture Perfect still struggling to free herself from the desk.

Against her better judgment, she ran to the photojournalist and grabbed the chair of the desk. “Hold still and pull!” They struggled for several seconds, Perfect grunting from obvious pain. At last the desk came loose, the two ponies crashing to the floor loudly.

“Oh, thank you Darling,” Perfect said, still on her back and looking frazzled. “How unseemly. Glad nopony got a picture of that!”

“Now come on,” the Mare instructed, jumping to her hooves. “Help me with the foals.”

“What, help?” Perfect sat up and gave her a look as if she were daft. “I’m a photojournalist. I don’t help.”

The Mare stared in amazement. “What do you mean, you don’t help? What happened to all that talk about honor? Bringing perpetrators to justice and so on?”

“My photos do that,” Picture Perfect replied, displaying her camera. “A journalist never interferes! We only document, and bring out the truth. You want help, call the cops.”

The Mare abruptly thought of her ancestor. She stuttered, sputtered, snarled, shook in fury! Screw civility: she snatched the camera from the photojournalist with her teeth and threw it on the ground. She reared back and stamped so hard it shattered.

Nooooo!” Picture Perfect fell to her knees and gaped at the pieces of her precious camera. “My baby! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?!”

The mare got in her teary face, so furious she thought she might explode. “If you don’t get your self-righteous rump out of my sight within the next five seconds, I am going to shove what’s left of that camera up your rear and buck you so hard you’ll land in Saddle Arabia!”

The photojournalist didn’t wait around to see if she’d keep her word.

The Mare stood, huffing and puffing. She struggled to regain her composure. Her unkempt, dark-grey mane had fallen in front of her face. She stared, focusing on the individual hairs. Just so she’d have something to focus on.

She remembered it swaying on the train, and rocked a little. Her mane wave back and forth. A conductor’s baton. Her baton.

She hummed Hooftoskie’s Sonnet Naturale, her soft soprano voice coming out harsh, but slowly softening. Soothing out. Calming. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, indulging in the thought that she might conduct that tune, some day.

A loud creak broke through the reverie, then something snapped. The fillies cried out in fear.

The Mare turned about, confident and calm once more. She ran to Shoeshine, who still seemed a bit out of it. “Help me with the foals.”

Shoeshine stared at her blankly, then looked up at the carriage. “I… I don’t know if I…”

“You helped us get this far,” the Mare declared. “Come on, we can do this together. Trust me.”

The pony stared at her, then looked up at the carriage. Her expression slowly went from pitiable to serious. At last she looked the Mare in the eye. “What did you have in mind?”

They worked together to shove the desk into the middle of the room, pushing aside student desks as they did. Shoeshine climbed on top, and the Mare onto her.

“Ready?” Shoeshine asked, and the Mare nodded. “Alright, hold on…” She struggled to pick herself up, and it took a couple tries. Finally she pulled it off, rearing back onto her unsteady hind legs. The Mare wavered, but somehow managed to stay on Shoeshine’s shoulders. With some effort, she was able to stand and set her front hooves against the side of the carriage. It creaked and shifted, but held.

“Fillies!” The three girls peered over the side of the carriage. “Quickly, I want you to climb down me and Shoeshine.”

“But what about Green?”

“You let me worry about him,” The Mare instructed. “Come on, down you go.” It was slow going, and more than once the two mares nearly lost their balance, but somehow they managed to stay standing long enough for the fillies to get down.

Once sure they were clear, the Mare glanced down at Shoeshine. “Get ready, I’m going to climb up.”

Shoeshine looked up at her with wide eyes. “You’re going to what?! But how will you—” But the Mare didn’t wait; she jumped and managed to barely get her front legs over the side of the carriage. Her kick had unbalanced Shoeshine, who fell to the floor with a thud.

Another cracking sound. The Mare struggled to get into the carriage, which was rocking wildly from something having come loose. She got her head over the side and spotted Green Daze, watching from the corner of the carriage with tears in his eyes. At last she managed to get in, landing heavily on the bottom of the vehicle. Another splintering crack, and the carriage rocked violently.

“It’s going to fall!” Shoeshine cried.

The Mare wasted no time; she snatched up the colt and raised him over the side of the carriage. “Catch him!”

Shoeshine reared back, and Green Daze dropped into her waiting legs. A pop, a grinding sound, and the carriage came down. The Mare had a brief, slow look at Shoeshine’s horrified face, and then black.


When she came to she was in a hospital bed, the dying light of the sun turning the white room red. She moaned and tried to sit up, but stars flew across her vision and her head practically screamed in agony, so she let herself drop back down.

“Ah, just in time,” a pleasant voice noted. She glanced aside and saw a unicorn doctor standing beside her bed, clipboard floating just before his face. “Glad to see you’re awake! I’m Doctor Stable.”

She would have nodded, but any head motion at all sent shockwaves through her cranium. “You’re smiling. Guess that means I’ll live.”

“Indeed it does,” he answered with a smile. “I just needed to run a few quick tests, make sure everything’s okay. But I can already tell you that you’re lucky. Not many ponies survive having a schoolhouse fall on their heads!”

“Or a train crash, or a dragon attack,” she muttered.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that the dragon problem has been settled,” he declared, checking her pulse and jotting information on his clipboard. “How do you feel?”

“Like a schoolhouse fell on my head.”

“Any trouble moving? No blurred vision?”

She took a moment to experiment with her legs and shift around. “Head hurts. Other than that, no.”

“A major headache’s to be expected. You took a nasty whack,” he admitted. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. You should stay overnight just to be safe, but I imagine you’ll be good to go by morning.”

A fearful thought came to mind. “There were foals with me, and a mare. Are they okay?”

“Oh, that reminds me,” he answered, going to the door, “you have visitors.” He opened the door to reveal the fillies and Shoeshine waiting outside. The fillies let out a cheer and ran into the room.

“You’re okay!”

“I knew she would be.”

“Yeah right, you were crying like a baby!”

“Was not!”

“We’re so happy you’re not dead!”

“And whole.”

“You are whole, right?”

She couldn’t help beaming. She’d done it: the children were safe.

Shoeshine came up behind them, laughing. “Come on, girls, give her room to breathe.” She smiled at the Mare. “Glad to see you’re not dead.”

“Likewise.”

“And somepony else is very happy to see you,” Shoeshine added, stepping aside. Behind her was Green Daze, sitting in a wheelchair with his leg in a cast. He was grinning from ear to ear as he rolled forward, the fillies moving out of his way.

The Mare gave Green a warm smile, eyeing his leg. “Well, little stallion, things didn’t turn out so bad, did they?”

And then, to her surprise, he leaned forward and gave her a hug. She blinked, blushed, and returned the gesture awkwardly. “Thank you so much,” he whispered into her ear.

Then he pulled back, eyes big. “You. Bucked. A dragon. You bucked a dragon in the face. That was awesome! Forget Rainbow Dash, you’re my hero from now on.”

She laughed. It hurt, but she didn’t mind. “I’m no hero, Green.”

“Yes, you are!” one of the fillies cried, the other two nodding in agreement.

She eyed Shoeshine for help, but the mare only beamed and shrugged. “You were pretty awesome.”

Thanks,” she replied with a roll of her eyes and a grin.

Green Daze engulfed her neck in another tight hug. “You’re my hero, like it or not! I’m going to tell everypony how I was rescued by the awesome… Umm…er… The awesome…?”

She giggled and pushed him back into his wheelchair.

“Octavia. My name’s Octavia.”


Spike was having a rough time of it. Lots of ponies were upset with him. He had it coming, of course, so he didn’t blame anypony. He had his work cut out for him, too; he’d been forced to agree to fix lots of damage. It was late in the evening and he was getting tired, but he’d promised Twilight that he would at least clean up the mess he’d made in the library before going to bed tonight. She’d tried to convince him not to be so gung-ho on that promise, but he was at it anyway, long after she’d gone to bed.

But he was almost done. Tomorrow he’d have to go to Rarity’s and help fix the hole in her wall, and then he’d have to help Fluttershy with getting a new chicken coop. The list went on and on. He really screwed up this time.

He lifted up the last garbage bag of debris from the library floor and took another moment to eye the hole in the wall he’d created. Had he really gotten so big? And that hole was nothing compared to what he had become. It boggled the mind. Doc Murrow was going to have a field day analyzing him after this, which was not something to look forward to.

The dragon, glad to be little again, rubbed his eyes sleepily and walked outside, depositing the trash bag next to the dozens of others. When the trash crew came later that week he’d have to help get rid of it all, but at least it was all out of the library. He sighed and yawned, glad that this terrible ordeal was all over.

Or so he thought.

A shadow crept over him, though he didn’t notice it. He turned to go back inside, and smacked right into something hard. He fell on his back with a yelp, rubbing his nose tenderly, then looked up to see what he’d hit.

Standing tall over him was Fine Crime, expression grim.

You!” Spike was on his feet and alert in an instant. “What are you doing here? Come to steal something from the library, huh? Well I won’t let you! You… You…” His words died; Fine’s expression, dark and threatening, didn’t budge.

Suddenly, he was a very scary pony.

“Uuhhh, so…why are you here?”

The unicorn didn’t answer for a while, and each passing second made Spike feel more and more nervous. At last Fine answered, his voice firm. “Tell me, Spike, do you remember being up on the mountain with Rarity?”

Spike blinked. He hadn’t expected the pony to be so direct. “I remember everything.”

“So you remember the moment you returned to your normal size?”

“Umm, yeah.”

Fine raised an eyebrow. “Do you know where I was right at that moment?”

Spike shook his head.

The unicorn lowered his head to glare daggers into his eyes. “I was on the ledge above, preparing to crack loose a boulder the size of a house that would have rolled down and dropped onto your head.”

The little dragon gulped. “A h-house?”

“A house.” Fine raised his head once more. “Even for a fully grown dragon, that’s a lot of rock. Five more seconds was all I needed.”

Spike squeezed his tail for comfort. “B-but, something like that might’ve… might’ve…”

“Killed you?” The unicorn’s voice was cold as ice. “That was the idea.”

For a tender moment, Spike felt a tremble of terror run down his spine…and then he remembered who he was talking to. “Waitaminute, how am I supposed to believe this?” he asked. “You’re a thief. You really expect me to think that you were going to do something like that? I’m Twilight Sparkle’s personal assistant! Something happens to me and she won’t take it lightly.”

“Maybe not,” Fine Crime agreed, “but she won’t do anything if the hit was sanctioned by her precious Celestia.”

That made Spike stare. “W-what do you mean?”

The stallion snarled. “I have made a career out of dealing with threats to Equestria, domestic and foreign. You, Spike, qualify as domestic. A baby dragon helping out is one thing, but to go rampaging through a town? Property damage. Businesses shut down. A major transit line out of action. It’s a miracle nopony was killed! Celestia didn’t give the order, I acted on my own. But if I’d had time to carry out the execution, she would have sanctioned it.”

Spike pulled up a piece of lost courage, stomping his foot and pointing. “I don’t believe you!”

“No?”

“No!”

Fine leaned forward, eyes piercing. “Then send her a letter. Ask her yourself.”

The firmness of his tone and certainty of his expression made the dragon hesitate. If this was a bluff, it was a good one. “M-maybe I will…”

Fine took a step back, regarding the little dragon with judgmental eyes. At last he turned away and began to walk off. “Five seconds is all that separated you from life and death. Remember that, dragon, the next time you consider letting your greed grow out of control.”

Seeing him walk away made Spike a lot more confident. “You think you’re so tough? I havn’t forgotten what you did in Canterlot! You’re no dragonslayer.”

Fine paused and sighed. “I thought you might say that.” His horn glowed, and something appeared from a pack at his flank. The object flew through the air. Spike caught it in both claws and studied it. It was long, white and curved. And very sharp.

“What’s this?”

“A tooth from the mouth of Reddux the Tyrant. A souvenir.”

Spike dropped it as if it were poisonous.

“Goodnight, Spike. We’ll meet again.” Black clouds formed around the unicorn. “Hopefully under different circumstances.” He was gone.

But the tooth remained.

Spike reached down and held it. Reddux the Tyrant, whom Princess Celestia herself had fought to a standstill. But somepony had defeated him. Everypony knew that, but nopony knew who had done the deed.

It might be a ploy. Fine could have stolen the tooth from a collection. This might not belong to Reddux. It might not even be real. Maybe he should write a letter to the Princess.

But when he felt the tip of the tooth with his thumb, it cut a jagged line through even his tough scales. that cold fear crept down his spine once more.

He wasn’t going to get much sleep.


Nightmares. Nightmares, nightmares, nightmares. All night long, nothing but nightmares. And all of them about dragons.

The sun’s rays were just beginning to brighten the horizon, and Princess Luna was exhausted. She’d not had such a hard night of nightmare patrols since…well, she could safely say that this had been the worst night since her return from exile. Her sister had warned her of this, though; a dragon rampaging through a major town has that effect on ponies.

She’d turned over royal duties to Celestia. Now all she wanted to do was sleep.

She was just approaching her chambers, nodding formally to the guards, when she noticed him approaching: Fine Crime. And judging by his manner, he was here on business. It was all she could do not to let out an unstately groan.

The two met before the door to her room, pausing a few feet apart. She eyed him sleepily and saw that he looked rather worn out, himself. They stared at one another for several seconds, as if neither was willing to talk to the other.

It was finally he who broke the silence, tilting his head and saying wearily, “I have some news for you.”

She frowned and shook her head. “Thou mayest relay any information to mine sister. We are in no mood for—”

“I cannot,” he interrupted, his quiet rudeness causing the guards to shift uncomfortably. “The news relates to our special project.”

That had her attention. She studied him for a few moments, wondering if she shouldn’t have it wait until nightfall. But he did seem awfully tired, too.

As if her thoughts were readily visible on her face, he added, “My apologies for arriving at this time of the day, but I had to get here from Ponyville and, as you can imagine, the trains weren’t exactly functioning last night.”

Well, that did explain things.

“Let us make this quick,” she muttered at last, turning and entering her private rooms.

“So,” Luna went on after the door had closed behind them, “what news dost thou wish to relay?” As an afterthought, “Tea?”

“No thanks,” he replied wearily, “I prefer hot cocoa before bed. I’ll have some in my own quarters later.”

“As you wish.” She went into her private kitchen, him following a respectable distance behind.

He sat at the ornate table as she prepared herself some tea. “I thought you should know that I’ve found candidate number four.”

Luna raised her head, brushing her mane aside in mild annoyance. “Four? Whatever occurred to thy third candidate?”

Fine leaned forward, his front legs on the table and his chin atop them, and closed his eyes. “Jury’s still out on number three. I’m waiting for him to respond to something. If he doesn’t soon, I’ll be forced to scratch him out and find somepony else.”

She watched the steam come out of her tea kettle, thinking on this news. “So thou advanced to four.”

“Had to be done.”

Luna gave him a studious look. “Might I ask what convoluted test thou hast arranged for yonder fourth candidate?”

“I didn’t have to arrange one, this time,” he answered with a smile. “Thank Lu…well, thank you, it made my job much easier. The entire day and night was a pain in the neck, though.”

The kettle began to whistle; she poured a cup.

“That smells absolutely wonderful.”

“Moonflower and cinnamon,” she explained, going to the table and setting the teacup down. She took a pleasant moment to breathe in the warm, spicy aroma. “A true delight after a difficult night.”

Fine frowned. “I’m sure you had a lot of dragon nightmares to contend with.”

“Yes,” she whispered, looking at him clearly for the first time that night. “Thou wert there.”

“In Ponyville?” Fine sat up and nodded. “I was.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Our sister spoke of thy…‘dragon record,’ as thou said it. Didst thou…?”

He shook his head. “Reddux was a fluke; I hadn’t intended that. Nor did I deal with the dragon problem in Ponyville, although I seriously considered trying. I did speak to the dragon afterwards, though, and put the fear of death into him. As a precaution.”

“Doth thou always play such dangerous games?”

“I’m very good at them,” he replied with a weak smile, “but no. Deception is just one tool a pony in my line of work must have, albeit a very powerful one.”

She sipped her tea, taking in its deliciousness even as she questioned his words in her head. But she’d promised not to do so out loud, and she didn’t. “Let us speak of candidate number four.”

“You’ll like her,” he announced with sleepy certainty. “Brave, focused, confident, cultured, puts others first. Almost got herself killed trying to protect a bunch of foals she’d never met before during the dragon attack. Tough, too: she survived a train wreck, bucked the dragon in the face, got tossed like a doll half-across the town, and had a schoolhouse fall on top of her. Came out with just a severe migraine.” He considered this for a moment. “Well, tough or lucky. Take your pick.”

Luna was actually impressed. “Thou makest her seem over-qualified. We hope the negatives are not so severe as to match the positives.”

“They aren’t,” he confirmed. “She has her problems, like all the ponies on the list. Like all ponies in Equestria, actually.” He leaned his cheek onto his hoof. “But her positives far outweigh her negatives, more so than any other pony to graduate beyond the initial investigations. I think she’d make an invaluable addition.”

Luna took another slow sip of tea, for once feeling good about his recommendation. “When should we anticipate a full report on her?”

“Sometime this evening. I’m beat, and clearly so are you. It can wait.”

There was a long, comfortable silence between them. Luna wondered if he was about to take his leave, but something about his calm, relaxed manner told her that he wasn’t about to go just yet. She considered sending him away but – and this sounded strange in her head – she found his company very welcome this morning.

At last he broke the silence. “Princess?”

She blinked, caught off guard. ‘Princess?’ Not ‘Luna?’ “Yes?”

He was still hunched over the table, cheek still resting in his hoof. His other hoof traced slow circles on the table. His eyes were downcast. “This whole conversation has been very informal. So let me take this opportunity to speak to you informally. When I learned that the Archons were going to be shifted to your control a year and a half ago, I was thrilled.”

She was surprised, though too sleepy to express it properly. She stared over her steaming cup with droopy eyes. “Really? Why?”

“Your sister was never comfortable with our line of work,” he admitted. “She did what was necessary, and I’m glad for it, but it simply didn’t suit her, y’know?”

Indeed she did.

“I read the ancient documents,” he continued, eyes still down. “You know, the ones only the most powerful ponies are meant to touch? I knew you had lead our work back before your exile. The Archons hadn’t been founded back then, but you were still the one in charge of our line of work.” He looked up and smiled. “Everything I read told me that you were perfect for that role. Before your return, I used to wish you’d be brought back just to take us off Celestia’s hooves.”

She didn’t know if this was praise or not. She took another sip of tea to hide her uncertainty. “What art thou saying, Sir Fine Crime?”

“Just…that I’m glad you’re back.” He sat up at last. “I feel I should apologize. I’ve been saying ‘Luna this’ and ‘Luna that’ all this time, never saying ‘Princess.’ I realize you see it as a sign of disrespect. I never meant for it to be seen that way. I just… I worked with your sister for a while. I became familiar with her, friendly, as a means of helping her deal with the discomfort of my…disability. I never say ‘Princess’ to her, either, as a sign of this familiarity. I had hoped that you and I could be the same way, but I guess that plan backfired.”

He lowered his head again. He didn’t seem sad. Regretful, but not sad. “I didn’t mean to offend. If you wish it, I’ll be more formal from here on.”

Luna had listened intently, carefully. She felt that she was seeing him for the first time. She set her teacup down and smiled. “I suppose we… What is the modern phrase? Started off on the wrong hoof.”

He smiled. “Most certainly.”

“I am glad you spoke of this,” she continued. “I admit, I misunderstood your intentions, and for that perhaps I should apologize as well. Please, maintain your familiar tone. Now that I understand it, I will not take offense.”

He nodded in a slow, accepting manner, his expression light. “Thank you, Luna.”

“And thank you… Fine.”

Author's Note:

This episode required a lot of work to plan out. I wanted to do a lot of name-dropping, which meant I had to scour the My Little Pony Wiki for the names of ponies that appeared in the show. Picture Perfect was an important selection; I had originally planned on having her character be Photo Finish, but concluded that she would be far too easy to use. Plus she didn't fit in with the overall theme of the Season.

But for all this Episode accomplishes, determining what to do with it at all was a challenge in and of itself. I knew Octavia's 'element,' but not how to show it. My original plan would have been less 'disastrous,' if you will, but also seemed at once both obvious and simplistic. But when I began perusing the list of Season 2 Episodes for when to place these events and spotted "Secret of my Excess," the thought of putting her right in the middle of the Spike disaster hit me as perfect.

Another element worth mentioning: Fine Crime's threatening of Spike. This was a scene I'd thought of before I'd even conceived of the Season. MLP is a kids' show, and certain things are always simplified as a result. I can't keep things so simple, though. You ever watch 'Secret of my Excess?' Ever notice how much damage he was doing? Sure the Wonderbolts came out to try to stop him, but if they were serious about it they'd have gone for the kill immediately. I mean there's a dragon rampaging in a populated area, destroying buildings and wreaking havoc. Even ignoring the potential for lives lost, we're talking hundreds of thousands, if not millions, in damages. You don't half-ass your response to this. It would be like Godzilla invading Tokyo and the Japanese Self-Defense Force going 'ahh, no big deal. We'll handle it tomorrow.' Simply put, in my world these things will be taken much more seriously, and the solutions much more drastic. Dragon on a spree in Ponyville? Kill it. Kill it now. So Fine Crime's threat to Spike? Dead serious. This should give you an idea of the kind of material that will be in this story.

And we'll eventually see that there are far worse things to contend with than a Dragon in my Equestria.

Another topic: Luna and Fine Crime. This isn't like their usual conversations. They're both worn out, without the energy or the mood to do the usual head-butting. But, as we can see, it gave them room to be a little more friendly for once. A nice change of pace. Bonus: now that they've agreed to be less formal around one another, I don't have to work so hard on keeping up with her fancy style of talking. Actually that was a lot of fun, but it also took way too much time.

But the big deal of this Episode: Octavia Melody. I knew I had to have at least one fan-favorite in my lineup, and since Octavia is by far my favorite background pony the choice was an easy one. I did a bit of research involving her to prepare for how I'd handle her. One rule was paramount: Octavia needed to be awesome. And I have every intention of making her so. That said, there are a few things I noted the fans like to do with her. I specifically scoured the net looking for common ideas involving Octavia, as preparation for my own development of the character. Here's what I found:

A) Octavia is room-mates and/or in a romantic relationship with DJ Pon-3. I will NOT be implementing this. Too common, too cliche, too easy. If it weren't a popular setting in the fandom I still wouldn't do this. Sorry Oct-3 bronies. (This does not mean that these two won't be meeting at some point, though.)

B) Octavia knows Pinkie Pie or is Pinkie Pie's sister. While I don't wholly disapprove of this, I won't be implementing this, either. It's already been theorized; using it here would feel uncreative.

C) Octavia's parents were super strict and forced her to learn the cello. Another I don't disapprove of, but won't be using. Like the OctaviaXDJ Pon-3 idea, it's just too easy. And a little cliche, although I am going to use a similar idea in Episode 4.

The point is I don't want my rendition of Octavia to pander to the fandom. I've found some common conceptions, and I want to avoid them. I want to take Octavia in a different direction. Hopefully Octy fans will be willing to give that direction a chance.

UPDATE 3/7/2014: Edits have been uploaded!