Scaled and Icy

by Dashie04

Mulberry Street

Good Day, Lema! I’m sure you all know about the plan that’s going to be going down soon, We implore you to gather you weapons, any weapons you have. We’ll block them on Mulberry Street, the central pavilion, and We’ll tell them to eat our lunch.

If you have doubts about this fight, there’s nothing wrong with this! They’re rebels, and all rebels deserve to be destroyed. They can only move forwards while we can move to the side. We’re technically and ideologically superior. We are Lema, we are vialists, and we are Luna’s.

---

Me and Iron Hide had been looking for a couple of days, but we’d finally found it. We’d found a downed weapons supply ship, they had old shotguns, a good bit of shells, and of course, a ton of scrap metal. I could’ve believe it!

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” I shouted.

“Pebble, calm down,” Iron Hide said. He went over and starting picking up as many shotguns as he could cary, which, given his bulky stature, was quite a lot.

“I’m just so excited, though!” I said, grabbing some cases of ammo.

“I know, but it’s just annoying when you’re constantly excited all the time,” Iron Hide said. “You don’t need to have a physical reaction to every single thing that happens.

“Well, sorry,” I said. “I just want to have fun.”

“We’re fighting a deadly city on Luna’s Moon. We aren’t here to have fun.”

“Fine,” I said. I didn’t agree with him, that we couldn’t have fun, but I’d have to play along.

I started walking back to the base with all of our equipment in tow. It was heavy, but I was determined to not lose that bounce in my step.

---

I was currently trying to hack the Lema’s radio, Wingless had taught me how, but she was right, it was hard to hack into this thing. The security was very tight. I was following her instructions, but it was hard to hack into the radio through their propaganda website. It didn’t help that they didn’t have a radio when I was living here. It seemed to be a new addition, to play propaganda to the people because so many of them were running away.

“Any luck, Wingless?” I asked, looking intently at the computer.

“Unfortunately not, Prancey,” Wingless replied. “I do feel like this is possible. When we do figure it out, I say we hack in at a crucial moment. You know, because we might not be able to do it again.”

“How will we know when a crucial moment is?” I wondered aloud.

“We listen to the propaganda, of course!” Wingless said, as if that made complete sense.

“Won’t it have adverse effects on us?”

“Trust me when I say that their propaganda is faker and more obvious than a prosthetic wing that Luna delivered to her Moon.,” Wingless replied. “Which, I’ve gotten plenty of, by the way.”

“Why don’t you wear a prosthetic wing, then?”

“Well, there were too many appendages to keep track of, and I couldn’t fly with it properly. Besides, I thought to myself, ‘why should I be like every other batpony when I can be myself?’ I had to get a doctor to take it out. That’s part of what made my parents in Sol absolutely hate me. They thought I should be like every other filly, and learn how to fly. I told them to buck off.

“In fact, if you look closely, I still have scar tissue from where they took out the prosthetics. I don’t know if you’ll be able to see it, you might have to look very closely.”

Wingless turned to the side to show me when her wings should’ve been, and sure enough, there were faint scars there from when they presumably removed the prosthetic.

“So, like the one across your eye?” I asked.

“No, that one was more violent, this was just me asking politely,” Wingless responded.

I sat and mulled over it for a bit, I truly didn’t know she liked her wings gone. She truly had pride in the things that made her unique.

“Anyways, want to listen to some propaganda and find and opening?” I asked.

Wingless turned to face me again with a smile. “You didn’t have to ask.”