> Manhattan Ballad
>  by ObCom
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The city only came alive when the sun went down.  Lights projected from the windows and signs, covering everything in greens, blues, and reds. People walked to and fro, either making their way to the next bar or going home with their chosen partners. In the darkest corners, where the neon lights fell short, prostitutes patrolled in synthetic leathers and thieves were looking for an easy target. Music poured out of the clubs, calling out to those on the streets as a safe harbor against the turbulent nightlife.
From block to block, each scene was the same, and Vinyl relished in it. She walked down the sidewalk, eyes hidden behind her trademark goggles. A month ago, she would be walking the other way, towards whatever dive that would give her money to play music. Now, she headed into a better part of town. The air smelled cleaner, and everyone got out of her way. Word had spread fast that she was employed by the illusive man called Bass Leader, the man who ran the CyberLine club. Even though Vinyl had never seen him in person, any sort of association with the man was enough to make people think before getting in your way. Now, watching people subtly shift to the side to let her through, Vinyl could not repress a wide grin. When she came in sight of her new place of employment, she let out a low whistle. 
The CyberLine club was massive. The front was a mix of glass, which let people see the party inside, and screens, which usually showed some sort of abstract design or Bass Leader’s face. Vinyl had to wonder how people could have fun when they were being scrutinized by the giant, neon bald man. Nevertheless, the line was full of people who were ready to party, even though some of them looked like they had been dragged along. Vinyl couldn’t blame those who didn’t want to be there. The CyberLine was infamous for catering to those with fat bank accounts. Although the cost was steep, the entertainment, and the drinks, made the experience worthwhile. Vinyl pushed through the line, not caring about the person’s foot she stepped on. She gave a nod to the bouncer and went in. 
Vinyl felt her bones shaking from the music. Whoever had set up the sound system must have thought that the louder the song was, the more people would enjoy it. Vinyl would have agreed if they hadn’t played the worst song she had ever heard. Holy Empress, how did this club keep afloat without me? She wondered and walked to the edge of the dance floor. The dancers were in a flashing, neon colored pit below, and Vinyl leaned onto the rail to look up. On each of the four floors, she saw people drinking, dancing, talking, and if she really wanted to look there was bound to be some people who couldn’t wait to get to a hotel. No one else seemed to notice the terrible music, or maybe they just didn’t care. After all, it was noise with an unmistakable beat, and that was all anyone ever wanted. But just because the people had low standards didn’t mean Vinyl had to put up with it. She looked at the clock displayed in her goggles and made her way to the vacant DJ booth. 
She fought the urge to turn off the sad excuse for music while she was setting up. But if she did that, she would kill the party, and that would lead to people leaving because they couldn’t grind on someone with a beat. So Vinyl gritted her teeth and turned on the booth, watching the little lights activate and start to spin. In the meantime, Vinyl removed her gloves and activated her augments. Her fingertips were soon glowing blue and her ocular implants, along with her goggles, allowed her to see a bright mixing table in front of her. With her table in place, she adjusted the little neon lights so that they captured the outline of the table. The lights were purely cosmetic. To Vinyl, the mixing table was visible and she could interact with it due to her augments, but others could not. The lights only helped people see what she was doing, if they wanted to watch her perform. Now that she was set, Vinyl took off her olive green hoodie and turned on the microphone. 
“How’s it goin’, CyberLine? Everyone havin’ a good time? Of course you are. So let’s make it better by getting rid of this crap and let’s get on with some real music!” The crowd cheered, and Vinyl’s grin grew. Now that she was listening to something better, she was soon lost in the lights, the bass, the crowd… everything. 

Vinyl checked her clock once again and shook her head. She had been playing for six hours and as a result, she was drenched in sweat, her electric blue hair was plastered to her scalp, and she felt like she had just licked an outlet. Even though it had been a long set, part of her wanted to keep going. Who honestly cared about the morning anyway? But the time had come for her to stop and, not wanting to go home yet, she plopped down at the bar. An equal amount of water bottles and glasses surrounded her, and she was just about to stop when she felt a rough hand on her shoulder. In her time, Vinyl had felt all sorts of touches. This one said: the boss wants to see you. 
“Hey DJ, boss wants to see you.” The polite, deep voice managed to cut through the terrible music surprisingly well. Vinyl turned to see a muscular man wearing a black suit standing behind her. It wasn’t one of the normal bouncers, that was for sure. They all wore T-shirts and had visible muscle augments to look intimidating. Sure, the man in the suit was just as beefy looking, but he also had a different vibe. She felt like he was used to ordering people and getting his way. Vinyl thought of asking a few questions, but when she saw his stern expression, she thought better of it. She offered a smile and slid off of her stool. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the man spun smartly on his heel and was off. He’s pretty confident that I’ll follow, Vinyl thought. Part of her wanted to stay at the bar, but her feet were already moving. The man walked through the crowd, giving a firm push to anyone in his way. Vinyl heard more than a few drunken slurs as she followed. When they reached the backdoor, the man opened it and waved her in. Now that they were safe from public ears, Vinyl asked, “Alright, what does Ronny want this time?” 
“You’re not going to Ronny.”
Vinyl raised an eyebrow and bit her lip. If not Ronny, the low-down sack of shit manager that had interviewed her, then who? The gears in her brain turned when they reached an elevator she had never seen before. “You don’t mean…” 
“That’s right,” he said, gesturing towards the opened door. Vinyl’s nerves were starting to fray. She wracked her brain to find a reason, any reason, why someone like Bass Leader would want to see a DJ. The pictures of him on display didn’t invoke warm feelings of friendship. Now that Vinyl’s imagination was running wild, she thought that the club leader looked like a man who would put two shots in the back of her head and go play golf with his equally powerful and mysterious colleagues. She was trapped and the only way to go was forward. Her escort followed her in and pressed the button for the 5th floor. Vinyl watched the floor numbers light up. She was trying to get her thoughts under control, but nothing she did could cage the butterflies in her stomach. 
The doors parted to reveal an immense penthouse, covered in white furniture and marble floors. The escort took her past several glass sculptures of various animals, paintings that didn’t make any sense, and even the occasional bookcase. Vinyl was glad her eyes were hidden behind the goggles, but had to work on keeping her jaw clamped. Nothing could be worse than meeting Bass Leader with her mouth open in awe. They stopped in front of a padded, leather door, and even though it was a short walk, Vinyl’s nerves had fled at the sight of the decorations. Now, the escort knocked on the door and the butterflies burst out of their cage. Someone told her to enter and the man ushered her inside. 
Vinyl tried not to think about the door closing immediately after she walked through. A quick glance of the room revealed the same decorations as the rest of the penthouse, and beside herself, there was only one person. Before her stood the man she had only ever seen in projections, someone who, to the public eye, existed in name and image only. Bass Leader. He had his back turned to her as he looked down on the city, thankfully. Below, she could see the bright lights and thumping music slowly fading away. 
“Vinyl Scratch,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice. “I enjoyed your show tonight. Reminds me of one reason why I hired you.” 
“Thanks?” Vinyl asked. Only one reason? I guess my looks would be another. 
“Tell me, Ms. Scratch, have you been paying attention to the news lately? 
“Uh, not really, no. It’s only ever been the same thing over and over. Usually I only ever see the stuff aimed against the Empress and stuff,” Vinyl weakly shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. 
“That’s a shame. There has been an interesting topic as of late, if you have access to the right channels. Which I do.” He was still looking out of the window. Vinyl decided to focus on the back of his shaved head, which was faintly glowing with the outline of some sort of cranial augment. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she watched the little lights dance back and forth under his skin. “Ms. Scratch, do you follow any creed?” 
Vinyl didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she hadn’t been expecting religion. “Not really, no. I’ve got better things to do.” 
Bass Leader was silent for a moment. Vinyl was wondering if she had given the wrong answer when he said, “We are dying, Ms. Scratch. Humanity is taking its final breaths this very night.” 
“What do you mean?” Vinyl asked, skepticism lining her voice. 
“This night, a test was completed. The results are in. Do you remember the injection you had after you received your augments?”
“Yeah, the Shield. What, are you saying that has something to do with all this?” 
“Yes, Ms. Scratch. The Shield, for all of the changes it created for humanity, will be our downfall. It has made us sterile,” Bass Leader clenched his fists. Vinyl watched his scalp dance. 
Taking a deep breath, Vinyl said, “Alright, that sucks. So what now?” 
Bass Leader’s shoulders stiffened under his expensive suit. “I should have supposed you would not care too much.” Before Vinyl could be offended, he said, “You have received a few packages lately, all addressed to you even though you did not order them. You left them next to your door with the intention of opening them tomorrow. Do not bother. While you were working tonight, those packages were opened and installed.” 
Vinyl’s mind was reeling. She wanted to ask questions or, at the very least, say something intelligent. Her brain settled on, “Okay?” 
“Your apartment is now under protection by the best security money can buy,” Bass Leader said, ignoring her. “And now for the reason why I brought you here. Humanity’s fate will ultimately rest on the shoulders of those who are not augmented. This will most likely cause the Empress to do something drastic to keep her power. I have a daughter who is pure flesh and blood, and I do not want her to fall prey to the Empress’ dogs. You will take care of her during this crisis.”
“Let me get this straight,” Vinyl said. “People without augments are the future, and you happen to have a daughter who is one of them. Why are you sending her off with me? I’m just a DJ. Sure, I’m the best DJ around, but still. Couldn’t you send her to one of your managers’ houses or something?” 
Bass Leader shook his head. “If the Empress knows about my daughter, and she might, then it would be the obvious move to send her to someone I know. No, Ms. Scratch, if she is with you, she will just be a drop in an ocean. And if something does happen to her, well, I do not think I need to compare my resources to yours, do I?” Vinyl could hear the smirk on his lips, and even though he had a great point, that didn’t mean she liked it. 
Part of her wanted to burst out, to tear Bass Leader to shreds and laugh. She wanted to punch him in the back of his glowing, bald head. But that part was covered under the ice that had enveloped her. Vinyl was scared of the threat this man posed, and she found herself wanting to give him assurances that his daughter would be alright. Sure, boss, you can count on me! Would you like me to get you a hot towel while I’m at it?  
Bass Leader took her silence for the submission that it was. He called in the escort and Vinyl felt the rough hand lead her out of the office. She was thankful to get away. 

Vinyl had calmed down while she walked home. Now, standing in her apartment, she felt slightly disappointed. Doesn’t look like anything’s changed, Vinyl thought. She had been expecting some sort of fancy technology to be visible, but the empty boxes were the only indication that anything had happened. With a frown, Vinyl walked around the apartment again but found nothing. I’ll look for it later, she thought when her eyes fell on her couch. The long shift, as well as the meeting with Bass Leader, had left her drained. Pausing only to take off her goggles, Vinyl fell onto the couch and quickly fell asleep.

Her dreamless rest had been interrupted by two things. The sun poured through the curtains, and a single ray had made it its life mission to shine in her eyes. She also noticed that she smelled terrible, an impressive feat considering the amount of garbage on the floor. Holy Empress, I’m going to puke, she thought and rolled off the couch. Her shuffle to the shower would have been the envy of zombie actors everywhere. She stopped to tear her clothes off before standing on the shower tile. Sensing her presence, the shower head nearly drowned Vinyl with cold water. “HOLY FUCK THAT’S FREEZING!” Vinyl shouted in surprise, not caring if any neighbors heard her. They had kept her up before with their arguments and terrible movies, they could put up with the occasional curse. 
The shower left her feeling refreshed. In fact, she thought, clothes aren’t worth the trouble. Vinyl walked through the living room naked, picking up her goggles on the way and slipped them on. A knot formed in her stomach as she checked the news. What if Bass Leader hadn’t been insane and riots were already breaking out? It was ridiculous, she knew, but after last night, it was a possibility. Fortunately, no one had caught wind of humanity’s peril and she breathed a sigh of relief. An unfamiliar noise suddenly beckoned her. 
It was new, somewhat high pitch, and very annoying. After a minute, she realized it was her doorbell. “I’m never going to get to breakfast,” Vinyl mumbled and looked for any clothes to put on. While she looked in her room for a pair of clothes that were mildly clean, the bell never stopped ringing. “If that isn’t Bass Leader’s little girl, I am going to throw them out the window.” Vinyl was putting on a shirt when something caught her attention on the nightstand next to her bed: a pistol. 
The sight caused her heartbeat to increase and her eyes widened. The doorbell forgotten, she picked it up between her index finger and thumb. Holding the weapon as far from her body as possible, she put the weapon in the nightstand. Thinking about the gun sent a shiver up her spine and she tried to ignore it. The doorbell wormed its way into her thoughts again and she nearly ran to the door, if only to make it stop. 
“What is it?!” Vinyl yelled while she tore the door open. On the other side was a young woman with long, black hair, and purple eyes clutching a large tote bag as if her life depended on it. Her expression was a mix between fright and nervousness. Her eyes were already darting back towards the elevator and Vinyl’s irritation was tinged with a bit of sympathy. “Uh, shit, sorry? You caught me at a bad time. You must be the girl, right? Name’s Vinyl,” she said, sticking her hand out and offering a large smile. She didn’t miss the shiver that went through the girl’s body.
She looked trapped, standing in the hall, the supposed sanctuary guarded by an eccentric person with blue hair and goggles covering her eyes. Finally, she grasped Vinyl’s hand in a short squeeze and mumbled, “Octavia.” 


> Part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Octavia sat on the edge of the couch, purple eyes scanning every inch of the apartment. There were few things to focus on that did not make her cringe. Posters that hung on the brick walls advertised bands that she did not know. The fan above was lazily spinning around, occasionally lifting the odd scent of pizza, Chinese food, and dirty laundry. Those moments were few and far between, and Octavia made it a point to hold her breath for as long as she could. Her host, Vinyl, had been staring at her from across the table since she had arrived. It looked like she was inspecting an insect before she killed it. The tinted goggles covering her eyes were not helping. Octavia fidgeted under the scrutiny and tried to lose herself in thought, but her mind was drawing a blank.

Vinyl had been watching this for a few minutes and sighed. The irritation she should have felt the night before with Bass Leader was surfacing again. The girl on the couch did not have her father’s presence, and because of that, Vinyl felt like she could vent some of her anger. I wonder if I’m being paid overtime, she wondered. The internal clock said it was 10 am. I shouldn’t be up this early, Vinyl thought. She had forgotten that she woke up on her own accord. “So,” Vinyl said, her voice making Octavia jump, “you’re the wonder child that’s going to save the world.” 
Octavia flinched as if Vinyl suggested they go out and burn an orphanage. “What? No, well, maybe. I don’t know what’s going on, some of my father’s employees showed up last night and they told me to pack up my things. Now I’m here and I don’t know what to do and… how do you live like this?” 
“You should have seen my last apartment,” Vinyl mocked. “Rats the size of dogs, addicts fucking and yelling at the walls, which were paper thin, and the long walks at night from the clubs I played at to get money. It was paradise.” 
Octavia shrunk and pulled up a gray hood over her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you,” she muttered. 
“Yeah, I bet you didn’t,” Vinyl deadpanned. She crossed her arms and went back to staring at Octavia, if only to make the girl nervous. There was a sick, irrational, and completely misplaced pleasure in getting back at someone through their relatives. The silence was doing the trick. Octavia’s eyes were moving around the apartment and she kept wringing her hands in a matter of seconds. Vinyl raised an eyebrow and, in a gruff tone, asked, “What is it now?” 
“Nothing,” Octavia blurted out. She winced at her volume and added, “I just don’t know what to do now. I mean, they came out of nowhere and I just had to pack up and I don’t think I got anything really useful. Not to mention that I forgot—“ 
“Yeah, you already mentioned all of that,” Vinyl interrupted. She noticed Octavia was on the verge of tears, undoubtedly because of her acting like a moron. Ah, dammit. I better leave her alone for a bit, Vinyl thought and, without a word, used her augments to bring up the news. 
Her fingertips emitted their usual glow when she navigated the Data Stream. She could feel some of the butterflies in her stomach take flight. Bass Leader’s news from the night before made her hesitant to look at the news. Was the cat out of the bag? Were there riots everywhere? Millions dead? Biting her lip, Vinyl typed in her search. She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding when she saw that it was only the same old news and no mention about the world ending. I shouldn’t be surprised. Bass Leader and his league of super friends will probably try to keep this under wraps as long as they can, but what am I going to do until then? Keep this girl with me for, as far as I know, no reason? Fuck’s sake, why is she here anyway? I’m just a DJ. Vinyl let out an explosive sigh. I just hope no one is expecting me to eat lead for her. Now that her focus wasn’t on the news, Vinyl could see that Octavia was staring directly at her. “Yes?” Vinyl drawled, taking her goggles off.   
Octavia immediately looked to the side. “I was just wondering what you were doing,” she said. 
Vinyl had to replay the answer in her head to understand what Octavia had said. The first time, it sounded like a giant rush of words. “I was reading the news,” she said. And checking the time. I can’t believe it’s only ten after.
“Ah.” Octavia gave a small smile but didn’t look like she was going to say anything else. Silence reigned once again. Vinyl was sick of it. She abruptly stood up and walked to her bedroom, not even looking at Octavia. Once the door was closed, she let out a loud sigh and fell onto her bed. She wasn’t too tired, and the shower had left her feeling like she should stay up.  But she wasn’t in the mood to be around Octavia. Besides, after making the girl tear up, Vinyl was sure Octavia could do with some time alone. 

Octavia looked at Vinyl’s door for a moment before deciding that she was on her own. Now that she was not facing any open hostility, she released the breath she had been holding. However, sitting on the couch soon became boring, and now that there wasn’t anyone around, she felt safe enough to explore. Compared to the rest of the apartment, the couch was a safe haven. Unlike everywhere else, the couch gave the appearance of cleanliness. The floor was littered with various boxes from different restaurants. Octavia kept her eyes glued to her feet and meticulously picked her path through the empty spots to the kitchen. She did notice that, aside from the couch, a few chairs, and the table, that the apartment was scarcely furnished. For no discernible reason, a lone speaker sat in the corner, but there wasn’t an instrument anywhere. For her, there didn’t seem to be anything to do. There was no television, nothing to read, nothing at all. 
With a frown, Octavia thought, Of course. If she wanted to read or watch anything, she would just use her augments. Why would she spend the extra money? She bit her lip. Being augmented must be convenient. 
After bypassing the worst of the leftovers, Octavia managed to get to the refrigerator. Being augmented did not mean that Vinyl did not have to eat, but Octavia found herself cringing anyway. What, exactly, would the DJ eat? Octavia counted to ten and opened the fridge. She was filled with a sense of defeat. A six pack of cheap beer and ten energy drinks stared back at her. In the door resided a pack of bologna and a brick of mold-encrusted cheese. Appalled and annoyed, Octavia stuck her head in to see if there was anything else. Her eye caught on something else in the door. Taking care to avoid the cheese, she saw that it was a syringe filled with a blue liquid. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened. Drugs?! They took me out of my house to live with a drugged out DJ!? Octavia slammed the door and stood there, arms shaking, waiting until her heart would stop pounding against her ribcage. After that discovery, she was almost too scared to look through the cabinets. 
She held out for a minute before curiosity got the better of her. Besides, there was nothing to do, and knowing where edible food was could only be helpful, especially if Vinyl was going to be stubborn. The cabinets were much cleaner than the fridge. Everything in the cabinets, all of Vinyl’s dishes, looked as if they were not used more than once. Octavia looked back at the fast food containers and rolled her eyes. 
Keeping her eyes glued to the floor to avoid stepping on any boxes again, Octavia made her way to the windows. Below was a throng of people walking on the sidewalk, cars going back and forth, and absolutely nothing interesting. She let out a loud sigh and looked at the apartments across the street. Her face turned scarlet when she saw two people having a quick morning rendezvous. She shut the blinds, her hands shaking. I have been steeped in filth, she thought. 

Vinyl came out of her room a few hours later, stretching and letting out a loud yawn. She had ended up taking a nap. To her surprise, Octavia looked like she hadn’t moved an inch. For fuck’s sake, she thought and rolled her eyes. “Hey,” she said. No reaction. Vinyl frowned, wondering if she was getting the cold shoulder. 
She took her goggles off and looked at the girl. To her surprise, Octavia managed to look more nervous than before. “Hey,” Vinyl said again and got the same response. “Look, I’m sorry I lost my head back there, I was just tired, and all of this was thrown on me just last night. You know how that is, right?” Vinyl gave Octavia an awkward smile. She was still lying about being tired, but Octavia didn’t have to know the truth. Her frown returned when nothing happened. Octavia was still staring into space. With a groan, she heavily sat next to Octavia, and finally got a response. 
“DON’T COME NEAR ME!” Octavia yelled and leapt off of the couch. 
“Huh?” 
“I want to go home! I don’t want to spend another minute with a drug ingesting DJ in this cesspit of an apartment!” Octavia waved her arms around frantically, her hands tightened into fists. 
Vinyl felt her blood starting to boil. “Hey, I didn’t ask for your prissy ass to come here! How about you march out to your—” Vinyl stopped when something finally registered. “What drugs?” 
“The blue stuff in the fridge!” Octavia waved in the direction of the bathroom instead of the kitchen. At another time, her flustered attitude would have been amusing. But for now, all it did was give Vinyl a headache.
Vinyl took a deep breath and tried to imagine exhaling all of her stress before she lunged at Octavia. “That’s not what you think it is. It’s called the Shield. You know, the stuff they put into people who get augments so everything works the way it’s supposed to? And no, in case you’re wondering, it isn’t habit forming. Hell, it feels like injecting your veins with piss and anti-freeze. You are not in the company of a ‘drug ingesting DJ.’” Vinyl’s lips were turned into a smile instead of the intended snarl. 
Octavia looked crestfallen and unclenched her fists. “Oh. I’m sorry,” she muttered. Her hands were playing with her hoodie’s drawstrings. Vinyl expected her to pull her hood shut to escape the embarrassment. 
Vinyl raised an eyebrow. “And?” 
“And what?”
“Are you going to apologize for anything else?” 
“No, this is still a dirty apartment.” Octavia had said it so confidently, but her fingers still played with the drawstring and her gaze never met Vinyl’s. 
Vinyl’s eye twitched. Holy Empress, please keep my hands away from her throat. “Alright, then clean it if you want.” 
Octavia flushed, and Vinyl felt a strange sense of satisfaction. “I am not going to be your housekeeper! I am here against my will!” 
“You can say that again,” Vinyl said and lowered her goggles over her eyes. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to watch cartoons.” 
“That isn’t fair. What am I supposed to do?” 
“Like I said, you’re going to clean this place up. There’s some sort of cleaner under the sink, I think.” Vinyl’s fingertips started to shine and she was almost lost in the Data Stream. Octavia was less than pleased, and Vinyl could see her frowning through the screen. “Damn it, what?! Pony time doesn’t wait for anyone!” 
Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Pony time?” she asked incredulously.  
“Yes. Now what do you want?!” 
“We need to go to the store. I’ve already been through your fridge and you have no food.” 
“That’s it? You’re hungry? The pizza on the table should be fresh enough.” 
Octavia stomped her foot. Vinyl wasn’t sure if it was a cute or annoying gesture. “That’s not the point, Vinyl! You are sorely lacking any sort of necessities. How do you live here?”
Vinyl let out a long sigh and reluctantly tore herself from her show. Settling her red eyes on Octavia, she asked, “You’re not going to let up, are you?” Octavia slightly withered under Vinyl’s glare, but she stood tall and unmoving. With an overly dramatic groan, Vinyl pulled herself off of the couch. “Fiiiiiiiiiiine. Let me get my hoodie and we’ll go shopping, but you’re paying.” 


> Part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her messenger bag. When she grabbed her hoodie, her eyes had wandered over to the nightstand. Bass Leader’s warnings were vague, but Vinyl’s mind was full of carnage and shootings everywhere. Without thinking, she crammed the gun into the messenger bag and left. She wasn’t new to firearms and had even won a nice chunk of cash shooting bottles in an alley once. Except that she had been drunk and spent the night in jail after the cops showed up. But people weren’t bottles, although they blew up and spilled liquid when shot. Alright, bad thoughts, think of something else, she thought. She gave Octavia a sidewise glance and was not surprised to see the girl was staring at everything. Vinyl couldn’t complain, at least the trip outside had calmed Octavia down. 
The city was different now that the sun was in the sky. No neon lights guided the way to clubs, no groups gathered on the sidewalk, and cars filled the streets. The air smelled like exhaust and spicy food, but Vinyl was used to it. Despite Octavia’s outbursts, the area she lived in was comfortably middle class. Or had Octavia been complaining about her apartment in particular? Vinyl couldn’t remember, and the silence between them was starting to be annoying. “So where’re you from?” Vinyl asked, partly to fill the air, but she was curious.  
“Upstate. Why do you ask?” Octavia’s tone was dreamlike. Vinyl idly wondered if she could ask a dirty question and get an honest answer, but she resisted. 
“I’m guessing you’ve had a good childhood. Y’know, learned manners and all that?” 
“Of course.” 
“Then why are you staring at everyone we pass? Even I know that’s impolite.” 
Octavia looked at the ground, shaking her head. “I didn’t even notice. I don’t get around much, and I just don’t see how all of these people are augmented. They all look… normal.” 
“Yeah, that’s how a lot of them work. Most of them are internal, like, that fat baker over there could throw a dumpster over the building, but you’d never think he could.” 
Octavia’s eyes grew in wonder. “Is that true? Augments can do that?!” 
Vinyl winced. “Whoa, there, watch the volume. We don’t need to go shouting it to the world. And yes, augments could do that. Except that the military gets all the weaponized stuff,” she ended with a grin. 
Cocking her head, Octavia asked, “Do you have those types of augments?” 
Her mind suddenly raced to think of some witty response to that. Although there were many things she could say, all of them only funny to her, Vinyl settled on laughing uncontrollably. Octavia’s question wasn’t even close to funny, but her reaction to Vinyl’s outburst added fuel to the fire. “Will you stop laughing? It isn’t funny!” Octavia yelled, her face scarlet from embarrassment. 
Vinyl tried to stop, but her body was wracked with laughter, and more than a few chuckles slipped out. She put her arm around Octavia’s shoulders and pulled the girl close. She noticed Octavia’s rigidity at her touch. “Holy Empress that was a good one. I take back all of the bad things I’ve thought or said about you.” Vinyl paused to laugh some more. “Hey, your hair smells good.”
“E-excuse me?” Octavia blustered. 
“Relax, will you? I’m just joking around. Want me to say you smell like crap?” Vinyl grinned. Octavia gave a nervous giggle. It would have to do. 
They walked like that for a while, and Vinyl’s smile grew when Octavia finally yielded the tiniest inch, but at least she was slightly more relaxed. 
“If most of the augments are internal, according to you, why do you need goggles? You’re the only one wearing them.” 
“That,” Vinyl said with a cough, “is because I’m cheap.” 
“Pardon?” 
“I never upgraded to the fancier tech because it costs an arm and a leg. Besides, why fix what ain’t broke, right?” 
“But if you upgraded, you wouldn’t have to wear the goggles anymore, correct?” 
Vinyl was silent for a moment, and she let her arm slide off of Octavia’s shoulders. She was aware Octavia was looking at her, expecting an answer, but she wasn’t sure what to say. True, she could ditch the goggles, but the thoughts of the procedure… She shook her head. The operation to have better ocular augments involved too much cutting for her tastes. She was suddenly pulled back to reality when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back. A car passed over the spot where she had been a moment earlier. 
Octavia let go of Vinyl’s arm with a huff. “How are you still alive?” she asked, her face a mask of agitation. “If I have to rely on you, I might as well throw myself at my father’s phantoms.”
Vinyl’s mind sifted through a number of witty responses again. But if she poked too much fun at the girl, Vinyl felt like her life would truly become hellish, whether Bass Leader’s apocalypse came or not. Instead, she flashed a grin and said, “That’s quite a grip you’ve got there, Tavi. You sure you need any protecting?” 
Seeing Octavia’s face flush after the improvised nickname, Vinyl thought, I am using that again. Unfortunately, Octavia saw none of the humor. “Don’t call me that ever again,” she hissed. Vinyl’s grin grew until they crossed the street. Maybe Octavia was finally warming up to her. Part of her hoped Octavia wouldn’t immediately revert to the nervous wreck she had been so far. That act would get old fast. 
“And yes,” Vinyl said. 
Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?” 
“To your question before I almost got killed. About losing my goggles if I upgraded. Thing is, they’ve kind of grown on me, and they’re part of my image now.” 
“I see,” Octavia muttered. Her attention soon drifted back to the city, and Vinyl frowned. She would have to actually work to make Octavia calm down. And it’s so nice to see she’s being considerate about my feelings, Vinyl thought to herself in an overly dramatic tone.  

The shopping trip would have been faster if Vinyl had kept her mouth shut and her hands to herself. However, asking Vinyl to be quiet was met with the same reaction as having her pick up her apartment. It just wasn’t going to happen. Octavia finally bought some silence with a terse, “Will you shut up? You’re not even paying!” 
The shocked look on Vinyl’s face was priceless, even if her eyes were covered by those goggles. Nevertheless, Octavia had gotten the lull she desired and basked in it. Vinyl spoke the second Octavia picked up a head of lettuce. “What are you going to do with that?” 
“Oh for the love of,” Octavia said and shook her head. She looked at Vinyl with, what she hoped, was a menacing glare. “Now you just want to hear your own voice.” The grin she received was the only answer she needed. 

The clock read half past three when they got back. The trip had been good for the both of them. Octavia was slowly warming up to Vinyl, and vice versa. Now laden with bags, Vinyl realized that her messenger bag, and the gun, was inaccessible. Fortunately, the bomb hadn’t been dropped on humanity and no lunatic had attacked with a golf club covered with nails. Yet. A wet sound filled the apartment and she looked down. Octavia turned to see the crushed container of Chinese takeout and gave a sly grin that said, “I told you so.” Vinyl waved her off and dropped the food on the counter.
“Alright, you got a bunch of everything. I think we’ll be fine if everything goes to hell tomorrow.” Vinyl looked to see Octavia pulling out a few pots. “What are you doing?” 
“Just something to show my appreciation.” 
Vinyl raised an eyebrow. “So what? You’re going to beat me over the head?” 
Octavia looked frightened at the suggestion before understanding that Vinyl was trying to be funny. With a sigh, she asked, “What time do you go to work?” 
The question was one that Vinyl had never considered. She blew out some air and ran a hand through her blue hair, eyes darting around the apartment. “10-ish?” she finally said. “I don’t even know if I have to go in with you here. I mean, it was the boss who had you come here, and he did say I had to protect you, and I can’t really do that at the club, so… I dunno?” 
“Then why don’t you check and go back to…” Octavia cringed, “pony time, and I will make you an actual dinner.”
Vinyl’s smile could have been seen by the blind. “You don’t have to tell me twice!” she said and flopped onto the couch. Octavia couldn’t tell if Vinyl had been happy about the free food or, Empress forbid, the ponies, but it made her be quiet for longer than a minute. Turning back to the cabinets, Octavia found that she was smiling.

Dinner had been quiet, but not because of any awkward silences or glaring, which had been in abundance earlier in the day. No one was talking because Vinyl could not speak because of how much food she was trying to eat at once. Even if she could speak around the half-chewed mass, she would rather try to get more food in. Across the table, Octavia could have been staring in terror, or maybe she didn’t care and was proceeding as if nothing was wrong. Vinyl couldn’t tell, nor did she want to spend the time to find out. Throughout the onslaught, there were snippets of Octavia saying that she had only made spaghetti and salad, and there was probably something about Vinyl’s lack of manners, but she didn’t care. When the food was gone, Vinyl leaned back and let out a loud belch. 
After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at Octavia. “That was great,” she said with a lazy smile. 
“Glad you liked it?” 
Vinyl picked up her glass full of milk and drained it in one pull. “So what was that earlier? About appreciation?” She filled up the glass again. “Man, this stuff is good, too.”
“Ah, that. I thought we got off on the wrong foot, with you being tired when I arrived. It was also inconsiderate of my father to put you through this without your consent, so I wanted to do something nice for you.” Octavia gave a small smile and Vinyl felt herself warming up. 
“Yeah, I should probably say I’m sorry too. I bet you wouldn’t be here if you had a say in it. Speaking of which, why did Bass Leader choose me over someone else at the club? Y’know, maybe a friend of his?” Vinyl swirled her glass as if it was full of the most precious wine.
Octavia looked down, at her half-empty plate. She picked up her fork and idly poked a meatball. “Truth be told, I don’t talk to my father much. If I had to guess, I’d say it had something to do with real estate. Back upstate, I was in a secluded house in the hills, but here I’m just another face in the crowd. Why my father chose you over a manager in the club, it might be because you’re the least obvious choice? I’m not sure, honestly. My father hardly spoke to anyone about me, so I don’t know why he thought I was in danger.” 
“Damn,” Vinyl sighed and took a drink. “This is whole business is going to be the death of me.” 
“Expecting trouble?” 
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“Are you referring to the gun you left in your bag?” 
Vinyl couldn’t hide her eyes behind her goggles this time, all because she thought it would be polite to leave them off. She gave a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, that. It’s not mine, by the way. I just found it on the nightstand last night.” 
“I see,” Octavia said and looked into the distance, thinking. Vinyl looked at the clock, a little bit after 6. Where did time go? “I just hope my father is a paranoid old man and nothing bad happens,” she groaned.
“Same here.” Vinyl raised her glass and kept it up until Octavia caught on. Except it probably won’t, she thought when their glasses clinked together. “Anyway, I haven’t gotten anything about not going to work. That could mean it’s a common sense thing, where I go in and get sent home, or they’re expecting me to go in and play through til the morning.” Vinyl gave a weak shrug. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a nap.” I just asked her permission to take a nap, Vinyl realized. 
Octavia nodded. “Go ahead; I’ll take care of the dishes this time.” Vinyl smiled and went into her room. Once the door was closed, she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. 
Holy Empress, Vinyl groaned before falling onto the bed.

Vinyl still had to go to work, much to her annoyance. Bass Leader wanted his girl protected, but he also wanted the protector to give a very wide window for someone to do something. The plan was full of holes and Vinyl didn’t like it. What was worse was that her thoughts were affecting her performance. She had always taken pride in her ability to work up a crowd, but now her heart wasn’t into it. The crowd could sense her lack of attention as well, and some had no problems with vocalizing their opinions. Vinyl wasn’t listening to them, she could only keep asking herself: What if someone attacked now? What kind of security protocols had Bass Leader put into her apartment? Those two questions bothered her the entire night, and a beer bottle was thrown at her. The bouncers pushed through the crowd and threw the offender out, but Vinyl couldn’t remember the last time she played that badly. She frowned and had to resist the urge to turn on the microphone and tell everyone to fuck off. At least they could go to the bar and drink and try to forget her terrible performance. After her work was done, her escort from the night before came up to get her. Vinyl half-expected him to tell her she had been fired. 
Once again she had been taken to the penthouse, but this time she was sitting across from Bass Leader. She had her goggles resting comfortably over her eyes, staring directly into the mirrored surface that covered his. Fancy man, she thought. “Tomorrow. The information will be released tomorrow.” 
“What? That soon?” Vinyl could hear her surprised tone in the echo, but she didn’t care. 
“Were you expecting this to stay under the radar for long? People talk, Vinyl Scratch. I am surprised there has not been a leak already,” he stated.
“Alright,” Vinyl said, leaning back into the chair. “So what happens then? I’m guessing you have a plan or something.”
“My plan has already been in motion. I have spared no expense in turning your apartment into a fortress. You only have to make sure she is safe.” 
“For how long?” And if that’s the case, why the fuck am I here and not at home? Vinyl wondered. “I’m guessing that you’ll send some people over to pick her up?” 
“Ideally,” Bass Leader said, his brow furrowed. “But it will take time. After the announcement, I am sure the Empress will try to acquire all of those who are not augmented. Once their search is over, I will try to send people over, and then they will take Octavia to another location, and you will go on as you please.” 
Vinyl’s mind was reeling. “If you have a better location, why didn’t you take her there?” 
“Because they would never have made it there before the search.” Bass Leader brought his fingers together. His tone made Vinyl think that he thought he was dealing with an idiot, and Vinyl found her irritation rising. 
“And why don’t you want her to go with the Empress?” 
Vinyl didn’t miss the way Bass Leader’s jaw tightened. “All you have to do,” he slowly said, “is keep your mouth shut. Now go home.” He swept his hand in front of him. She was, without a doubt, dismissed. But, unlike the night before, Vinyl was not terrified of Bass Leader. She wanted some sort of concrete answers, and got to her feet. Then she felt a rough hand clasp her shoulder. 
Any protests died in her throat then. Sighing, she let herself be escorted out of the club without a word. Before the door closed, she turned back to the man and asked, “So do you want me to keep showing up for work or is this a paid vacation?” She turned on her mega-watt grin, but the man just looked at her as if the answer was obvious.   

> Part 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part 4
Rainbow Dash walked through the ever-changing interior of Camelot without breaking stride. Many had no clue where the seat of the Empress’ power was located. Camelot’s whereabouts were a closely guarded secret that involved weeks of testing while people upturned every stone of personal history. All to preserve Celestia’s unending reign of peace and love. Dash hoped it would never end. Her magenta eyes were focused straight ahead, but she felt the need to take a turn. Without breaking stride, she smartly turned on her heel and followed instinct. 
She had been to Camelot enough times that people swore she knew the layout by heart, even though the engineers had sworn that such a feat was impossible. Her trick was to get to the statue in the center, which never changed, and then everything would fall into place. With a few more turns, Dash found herself staring at the statue of the Empress Celestia. 
Those who passed through were usually too busy to spare more than a sideward glance and a half-hearted salute. Dash, who never stopped working, refused to fall into such habits, lest the Empress thought she did not take her responsibilities seriously. She stepped forward, never breaking the statue’s motherly gaze, and felt her heart beat increase as she performed her crisp salute. A few people walked past, but if they were going to say anything about her display, they would wait until they were far away. Dash didn’t care about them. All that mattered now was the Empress and her wishes. When she was done, she turned around to get her bearings, and then she was off. Less than a minute passed before she was at her destination, at the office for the Empress’ Horn. Three concise knocks on the door signaled her presence. 
Through the door, she heard, “Come in.” 
Dash pushed through and was saluting before the door closed. “Reporting, Commander.” She saw the slight shudder Twilight Sparkle undoubtedly tried to repress. 
“At ease,” she said, and Dash relaxed, folding her arms behind her back and shifting her feet an inch farther. Twilight folded her hands and swallowed. Dash had worked with her long enough to know that her commander was uncomfortable. That was when she noticed that Twilight’s ocular augments, a semi-circle encompassing each eye, were lifeless. Twilight was giving Dash her full attention. Dash’s heartbeat went up, but she would stand still until she had her orders. Feeling that Twilight didn’t want to have a pair of eyes boring into her was the last thing she wanted, Dash tried to look at something interesting. She had seen Twilight’s black, orderly desk thousands of times before, and she had seen the view behind Twilight many more times. Anything worth looking at, the books and paintings, were directly behind her. Twilight coughed and Dash immediately focused on her superior. 
“I called for you to come here to fulfill the Empress’s wishes,” Twilight began. “The time for humanity is ending, Dash.” The look on Dash’s face caused Twilight to pause, but she soon had her emotions under control. “Our augments, our greatest achievements, are going to be the death of us.” Twilight twirled her hand in a lazy circle, each finger starting to glow. “But the Empress has found a way out, but it’s not easy.” Twilight closed her eyes, her augments shedding a light blue across her face. “You have been chosen personally for your loyalty, even after…” Twilight trailed off, realizing she might be opening an old wound. Dash winced inside and hoped her commander wouldn’t notice. After clearing her throat, Twilight continued, “Your loyalty. Everything you need to know has been sent to you.” 
Dash saw an icon appear in the corner of her vision. She quickly blinked twice and opened the file, magenta eyes scanning the information. There was no way to tell, but Dash felt as if her features hadn’t shifted at all. Twilight gave her a brief frown, although Dash had no idea why, and said, “What you are being asked to do will undoubtedly go against your morals, Dash. Can we rely on you?” 
“If it is the Empress’ wish, I will gladly do it,” Dash said without hesitation. 
Twilight looked at her with a look approaching sadness and sighed. “Very well. Dismissed.” Dash saluted, turned on her heel, and was halfway out of the door when Twilight called, “Dash, are you sure you’re alright?” 
Dash’s eyes glazed for a moment. Images she didn’t want to see flew past her. She wanted to grab a hammer and destroy those memories. Nothing was allowed to hurt her, nothing short of failing the Empress. Nothing was supposed to. She was Rainbow Dash, one of the original six, those who…. Original six. Now five. A lump formed in her throat and she quickly cleared it with a quiet cough.
“It’s under control, Commander,” she said and walked out. If Twilight had called out to her, Dash ignored it. There was nothing more that the commander could tell her about her mission. There was no need to continue the conversation. She had been dismissed. Dash violently shook her head, making her rainbow color hair look like she hadn’t spent any time brushing it. She had to get those thoughts out of her head, she had to stay focused. The Empress had personally requested that she should do this, and she was not going to fail. Not again. Yet, for some reason, the meeting with Twilight had left a bad taste in her mouth. Her hand itched, and she had the sudden desire to shoot something. At that moment, she had never wanted to go to the shooting gallery more.

That day marked the beginning of the Reclamation. Around the world, Imperial troops descended in their shining white and gold armor to take whoever they wanted with Celestia’s blessing.  Most of the people went without quarrel, proud to do whatever their Empress deemed necessary. Pictures of smiling humans under armed escort assaulted Vinyl’s eyes whenever she looked at the news. There were those who did not want to go along with the soldiers, though the instances were few and scarcely documented. Those that ran were ruthlessly hunted, and if people fought, only the augmented were killed. Rumors said that Rainbow Dash personally spearheaded the hunter teams. 
Journalists, from professionals to people restrained to social networking sites, wrote about the indecency of the act. The Empress’ propagandists soon drowned their voices, but their questions found their way into the population’s mind. What could the Empress be thinking? How could tearing families apart be for the greater good? Where were they taking them? 
One night, a French philosopher had said something important, although Vinyl couldn’t remember the man’s name or what he even looked like. He might not have been French either. Vinyl had watched the original broadcast while Octavia sat on the couch next to her, staring into space while Vinyl relayed the news to her. She remembered falling silent during the philosopher’s argument, Octavia’s purple eyes falling on her with concern. Finally, she had said, “He thinks we’re all fucked.” 
The change in life was subtle but steady over the month since the Reclamation began. Nothing serious, such as armed riots, had happened yet, which Vinyl was thankful for. The people walked with less conviction, their postures becoming stooped. The music that had once poured out of the clubs was a slight whimper now. There were times when Vinyl was outside and didn’t hear a single car drive past. Humanity wouldn’t die for years, but the city had already bought its coffin. 
Despite all of the turmoil and melancholy, Vinyl felt good. She had been bound to her apartment with Octavia, only leaving when they needed supplies or to stretch her legs.  Whenever she went outside, she kept her head down like everyone else and always brought the pistol with her. The gun’s familiar weight now gave her a sense of security. 
The month had been strange, and there were plenty of people who had given up, but at least she could go home to someone who hadn’t gone insane yet.    

Vinyl walked in from the rain that day with a bag of groceries. Before she could say anything, Octavia yelled, “I am going to tear the paint off of these fucking walls!” 
Letting out a low whistle, Vinyl said, “Careful with the language, Tavi. You’re going to burn my innocent ears.” She decided to leave out the fact that there was no paint on the walls, that they were, in fact, made of brick. 
Octavia snorted. “Right, and we wouldn’t want that to happen.” She put a hand on her temple and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Vinyl, it’s just that there isn’t anything to do here. I’m a little restless.” 
“What about that notebook you brought?” Vinyl asked from the kitchen. 
“Full.” 
“Can I read it?” 
Octavia blushed. “No.”
Vinyl flashed a grin. “What’re you writing in there that’s got you like that? Hot stuff?”
“I beg your pardon?!” 
“I was just joking,” Vinyl chuckled. She pulled her head out of the cabinet to see Octavia putting down an empty can. Knowing that Octavia had planned to throw it at her, Vinyl’s grin grew. 
“You’re terrible,” Octavia said with a light chuckle of her own. 
“Yeah, and you’re stuck with me. What’s for dinner?” 
Octavia made a show of thinking for a moment before flopping onto the couch. “You’re cooking. Surprise me,” she said, folding her arms behind her head. 
Vinyl lowered her goggles. “You want me to cook? Think you’re ready to set up camp on the toilet again?” She asked with a wink.
“No tacos,” Octavia glared, which soon fell apart when Vinyl kept smiling. “Fine, make whatever you want.” She closed her eyes and started humming to herself. Instead of bursting into action, Vinyl put her hands on the counter and watched Octavia. She was surprised that, after only a few moments of conversation, Octavia had transformed from a whirlwind of profanity and destruction to the girl humming and tapping her foot to a song. “Chop, chop, Vinyl,” Octavia said without opening her eyes. 
Groaning loudly, Vinyl opened up the fridge and looked inside. She had no idea what to make, and when her mind wandered, it wasn’t thinking about food. A long time ago, Vinyl had read an article about how people would willingly close their eyes and fall backwards to see if they could trust their friends or not. Vinyl could make something spicy and laugh herself to sleep, or she could make something Octavia would like. Biting her lip, she pulled out some eggs and a carton of milk. 
She stopped with her hand in the cupboard, a thought dawning on her. Why did she care what Octavia wanted? This was still her apartment, and she was confident that she was only using food she had paid for herself. If someone told me I’d be doing this a month ago, I would’ve laughed in their face, Vinyl thought. She stole a glance over her shoulder at Octavia, who was still humming, and felt a small smile grow. But I’m here and I’m doing it anyway, so fuck it. I’d do it again, she finished. 
Dinner had been coming along when Vinyl heard Octavia get off of the couch. She joined her at the kitchen and, leaning on the counter, looked at the pan. Raising her eyebrow, Octavia asked, “Pancakes?” 
Vinyl chuckled and looked at Octavia. “Surprised?” 
Octavia took a deep breath and sighed. “I shouldn’t be,” she said and went back to the couch. Vinyl’s smile grew and she turned back to the pancakes. The two were silent as a tower of pancakes was slowly constructed. Vinyl was going to tell Octavia that dinner was done when Octavia asked, “Do you hear that?” 
Confused, Vinyl closed her mouth and listened. There were thousands of sounds in a city at any given time, and nothing sounded out of place. What was Octavia talking about? The people? The obnoxious screamo music from the kid a few floors up? The steadily increasing reverberation that was making the apartment shake? Vinyl shook her head. Of course it was the last one. 
Octavia had gotten off of the couch and headed to the window. Vinyl turned the stovetop off before joining her. “Oh fuck,” Vinyl said when she saw the fleet hanging over the city. The Reclamation had arrived. 

> Author's Note 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I still don't like this format, 3 months after. Don't expect anything earth-shattering here, I'm just making this so that you all get a little bump so you know I edited the 4th part of this story. 

So now that part 4 is edited (restrain your laughter), what happens next? Well, who knows. I've been swarmed with school work and such, as I imagine many of you have been. I'm not even done with my finals yet, but y'know how sometimes you have to just take a little break? I took that little break. Not like there was much to work on. Anyway, I'll delete this if I ever get to part 5. In honesty, I've been considering other sorts of fanfics, maybe something that isn't as "dark" as this one. I put dark in quotation marks because this hasn't been all that dark yet or EVER. Have I drawn this out long enough? I think so. 
> Part 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl kept her eye on the people below. She expected them to panic. She wanted them to panic. That would have been better than what the people were doing, staring at the sky like idiots with their mouths open. She couldn’t blame them; it wasn’t every day the bulk of the Solar Empire parked over the city. “Vinyl,” Octavia said, “what’s going on?”
“Are you kidding? Look at the damn sky!” Vinyl barked. 
Octavia winced at Vinyl’s tone. “I meant, is there anything going on in the news?” 
“Oh.” Vinyl put her goggles on and wordlessly flipped through different networks. “Nah, doesn’t look like anything just—”
“ATTENTION CITIZENS OF MANHATTEN. I AM GENERAL RAINBOW DASH. BY ORDER OF OUR EMPRESS, THE GLORIOUS CELESTIA, ALL NON-AUGMENTEES ARE TO PRESENT THEMSELVES TO THE NEAREST SOLDIERS TO BE CONDUCTED TO A SAFE LOCATION. I EXPECT FULL COOPERATION. ANY FORMS OF RESISTANCE WILL BE NEUTRALIZED.” 
Dash’s message was still echoing through the city as Vinyl slowly took her goggles off and put them on her forehead. Octavia’s mouth was hanging open and she stared at the descending dropships with dread. Their white and gold paint made the city look like they were being bathed in milk and honey. “Not exactly subtle, huh?” Vinyl asked with a nervous laugh. 
Octavia spun and fixed Vinyl in her gaze. “I have to go. I have to go, they’re going to find me here!” 
“What?” Vinyl asked. Octavia was running to the door before Vinyl understood what was going on. “Hey, wait a minute!” Vinyl called and chased after her. Octavia’s fingers had just brushed the doorknob when Vinyl grabbed her from behind and spun her back into the apartment. “Holy Empress, you lost it fast,” Vinyl said, keeping herself between Octavia and the door. 
“Move aside, Vinyl!” Octavia cried. 
“We both know I’m not gonna do that.” 
“Why? Didn’t you hear them? They’re not playing around, Vinyl. They will kill you if they find me here!” 
“They’re not going to find you here. Remember those devices your dad had installed?” 
“You don’t even know what they do! They could be turned off right now!” 
Vinyl winced. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Octavia about her lack of knowledge on the technology she had suddenly put so much faith in. “That doesn’t matter,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. “If worst comes to worst, I still have the pistol.” That might have been the worst thing I could have said, Vinyl thought. 
“Oh, yes,” Octavia said, waving her arms frantically. “Of course, how could I have forgotten the pistol and your excellent marksmanship? Forgive me if your pop gun does not inspire confidence, Vinyl!” 
Vinyl opened her mouth but Octavia interrupted. “Let’s face it; there is no reason for you to stop me. I am a grown woman; I can make my own decisions. You have only kept me here because you wanted to keep your paycheck. Although I enjoy your company, I think it is time for all of this to end,” Octavia ended with a haughty sniff. 
“YOU think we can just end this?!” Vinyl yelled, throwing her arms into the air. “Alright, if you want to talk about personal reasons, let’s talk about them! You’re right; all of this is because of your dad. Whoop-de-do, that’s old news.” She took a step towards Octavia, never breaking eye contact. “But if I let you go off with them, then who has to deal with the angry guy? Me. If you go, I should just put this gun to my head. Bass Leader has connections and I don’t doubt he’ll fuck my life up big time if you go. So sit down, shut up, and eat some pancakes.” Now that Vinyl had expended some of her frustration, she realized that she had backed Octavia up against the wall. 
They stared into each other’s eyes, preferring silence to reign between them. Vinyl could hear and feel the reverberations shake her very core. “Come on,” she said and walked back into the kitchen. “No point in worrying about it now. It’ll take them a day or so to get here.” 
“How do you figure?” Octavia asked, still standing against the wall. “There are ships all over!” 
Vinyl pulled a plate out of the cupboard. “Hell if I know,” she muttered, bringing the pancakes to the table. She was suddenly tired and doubted her ability to stop Octavia if she ran again. Vinyl wasn’t even sure if she cared at this point. Using her fork, she cut into a pancake and forced the food into her mouth. Funny, she was sure she had been hungry a few minutes ago. Octavia’s nerves had finally passed over to her, Vinyl decided. 
“Fuck,” Vinyl said and brought her fist lightly down onto the table. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Octavia had been watching the troops outside, but turned around and now stared at Vinyl. Vinyl felt the eyes on her, but she didn’t care. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” she continued. When she saw a small dent in the table from the fork, she let the utensil clatter to the floor. 
“Vinyl?” Octavia asked. She had stepped closer to her friend and into the only lit area in the apartment. Vinyl looked up, unsure of how she looked but certain she was pathetic. “I’m sorry, you were right,” Octavia was saying. “I was being completely selfish earlier. You were right, if I left, I am sure my father would have killed you.” Octavia kneeled, her purple eyes wide. “I am so sorry that I almost did that, but I am so scared. What are we going to do?” 
Vinyl wanted to say something, but to her surprise, she found herself pulling Octavia into an embrace. She felt Octavia’s arms latch across her back. They sat still for a while, neither of them bothering to listen to the sounds coming from outside. They would get through this, Vinyl thought. She realized that her shoulder was gradually becoming wetter, and Octavia’s body wracked with sobs. “Hey,” Vinyl said, trying to keep her voice calm. “It’s gonna be alright. If they come, they come. I’ll be ready for them.” 
The words were weak, Vinyl thought, but they calmed Octavia down. All she needed was some encouragement. Octavia broke the hug and, once she was standing again, asked, “What do you have in mind?” 
Vinyl winced at how weak and broken Octavia sounded. “Well, I was thinking that you could hide if the soldiers come.” 
Instead of a scathing counter-argument, Octavia asked, “Where?” 
Vinyl thought. The apartment, though comfortable, was pretty small. They were going up against soldiers that had been breaking into houses for a month. Where wouldn’t they look? What trick hadn’t they already seen? Bass Leader had said that something had been installed in her apartment to help them out, but she didn’t know what it was. Octavia frantically shook her shoulder and said, “Listen.” 
Outside, they could hear people moving about and knocking on doors. Soldiers already? The two women stared at each other in horror while the neighbor opened his door. Next door, they could hear the soldiers’ muffled steps searching every inch. 
“How about you hiiiiiiiiiide,” Vinyl drawled as she scanned the apartment for a safe spot. Suddenly, she saw a section of the floor rise up on its own, revealing a convenient hole, “there.” Relief flooded through her system and she shot out of her seat and ran to the hole. 
“Where did this come from?” Octavia asked. 
“No idea, but I’m not gonna complain. This is a meat locker, Tavi. It’s like, if they’re using scanners to find people, this will block the rays or whatever. Most importantly, you’ll be safe. Now get in.” Vinyl’s teeth were starting to chatter and her fists were probably turning white. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. When would the soldiers knock on their door? She walked to the refrigerator while Octavia got into the meat locker. To Vinyl’s chagrin, all of the cheap beer was gone. She grabbed for a soda instead, in hopes that it would calm her down. 
Octavia was settled in to the locker when Vinyl got over. A thought struck her then, and she picked up the pistol. “Here, take this with you,” she said. 
“Why?” 
“Because I don’t have a permit,” she said and shoved pistol into Octavia’s hands. Before Octavia could say anything more or give the gun back, the floor began to close. “It’ll be okay,” Vinyl said before the hatch closed. Once the floor was seamless, Vinyl realized that maybe; just maybe, it wasn’t the best idea to give a gun to a panicked girl enclosed in a tiny place. “I’m an idiot,” she groaned. Her self-reprimands were cut short by the curt knock on the door. 
Taking a deep breath, Vinyl walked towards the door. This is it, she thought as her stomach did somersaults. Showtime. 

Cloud Chaser crossed her arms across her chest while she waited. The owner was taking their dear, sweet time and her patience was almost nonexistent. She had already gone through 20 apartments and was not eager to start on the 21st or any that followed. Bored, she shifted her weight and knocked on the door again, which immediately opened. A young woman with spiky, blue hair and dilated red eyes stood before her. Cloud Chaser cleared her throat and, in an attempt to sound pleasant, said, “My name is Sergeant Cloud Chaser of the 15th Hunter platoon. May I come in?” 
The young woman winced and gave her the once over. She had probably never seen a soldier in uniform outside of a movie. Cloud Chaser sighed; at least the woman didn’t have the lustful gleam that her neighbor had. But in the course of the Reclamation, she had gone up against all sorts of people. It was only a matter of time before she pegged the young woman in one of the categories. “Yeah, sure you can,” the woman mumbled and stepped aside. 
As soon as Cloud Chaser stepped through the threshold, she immediately smelled pancakes. Her stomach rebelled at the scent and gave a loud gurgle. The young woman raised an eyebrow, but soon returned her gaze to the floor. Cloud Chaser turned away to hide her blush. “I’m sure you know what this is all about?” she asked. 
“Of course,” the woman said while Cloud Chaser gave the apartment a glance. “It’s kind of hard to miss the ships in the sky.” 
“Yes,” Cloud Chaser drawled. The room was cleaner than the last apartment. The couch looked like it was well-used and had a large over-night bag on it. “Tell me, does anyone else live here?” 
The question seemed to knock the woman off guard. “Oh, yeah, sure,” she said, “but she’s never here. Sometimes I forget I have a roommate.” Cloud Chaser raised an eyebrow and turned back to her investigation. The constant pancake smell made her stomach rumble again, but she ignored it. The young woman was still talking, but Cloud Chaser had tuned her out, going about her job by opening all of the cabinets in the kitchen. 
The charts displayed by her augments danced over several scents in the air, but the graphs and Cloud Chaser’s stomach were focused on the pancakes. Finishing her examination of the kitchen, she crossed to one of the closed doors and found herself in a bedroom. “When this roommate of yours is here,” Cloud Chaser said, “where does she sleep? You only have one bed.” 
“On the couch, usually. Like I was saying, she’s probably too wasted to care. I once found her in the hall and—” The woman was droning on again and Cloud Chaser immediately ignored her. She didn’t spend much time in the bedroom, and she reluctantly went into the bathroom. There were more important things to focus on, Cloud Chaser thought, like getting out of that complex and getting some food. The pancakes still lingered. 
“Alright,” Cloud Chaser said. “I think I’m done here.” 
“Uh,” the woman said, “it’s been a pleasure?” 
Cloud Chaser raised an eyebrow, but settled that the awkward woman didn’t deserve a response. She turned smartly on her heel and walked out, her stomach rumbling. 

Vinyl nearly fell to the floor when Cloud Chaser was gone. Was that really it? Were they in the clear? She chugged her forgotten soda and felt the drink melt her nerves. That wasn’t that bad, she thought. Feeling better, she walked to the meat locker and frowned. She didn’t know how to open it. As if reading her thoughts, the hatch opened on its own. 
Octavia sat up and, looking at Vinyl, said, “I could hear everything you said down there, and that was the worst excuse I have heard in my life.” 
“Hey,” Vinyl said, pretending to be hurt, “at least she didn’t ask me about my crazy whore of a roommate too many times.” 

Applejack stood in front of the window, shoulders hunched. Now that she was alone, she had discarded the mask she wore around the troops. To them, she was confident, powerful, and always had a solution to any problems in the field. For them, the orders that they had received a month ago were seen as a god send. Applejack didn’t have the heart to tell anyone her true thoughts, how this whole mission, though beneficial to some degree, was most likely a sham. She looked past her reflection and at the stars. She was doing her best to ignore the giant red planet. Her mind flickered back to Twilight’s office. 
She had been there countless times, for reasons both official and personal. Nothing had been amiss that time. She had walked in, gave a salute, and stood stock still until Twilight had gotten annoyed. But there had been something off about Twilight. Usually, they were so lively around each other, but Twilight had seemed sad. 
“What’s wrong, sugarcube?” Applejack had asked, stepping around and taking a seat on the desk. “Is it Rainbow?”
“No,” Twilight said, shaking her head. She turned off her augments and Applejack did the same. “Well, partly. I gave her orders an hour ago, but that’s not important right now. Your orders, on the other hand…” Twilight trailed off. 
Confused, Applejack put a hand on Twilight’s shoulder and put on a reassuring smile. “C’mon, Twi, they can’t be that bad.” 
Twilight took a deep breath and, putting her hand over Applejack’s, gave the orders that Celestia had dictated. When she was done, Applejack’s smile had lost a touch of its vibrancy. “So, a trip to Mars, huh?” Applejack asked, pushing her hat up to scratch her head. “That’s odd.” 
“I don’t know what the Empress is thinking sometimes,” Twilight sighed. “But I guess she knows what’s best for everyone.” 
“When do I leave?” Applejack asked. 
“Immediately,” Twilight muttered. The word had pierced Applejack’s heart, and she could only imagine how long Twilight had been thinking about it. She frowned, and part of her wanted to rebel, but she could see that any such actions would only hurt Twilight. 
Putting on a smile, Applejack said, “It’ll be over before we know it.” 
Twilight’s grip tightened over Applejack’s hand until it started to hurt. “I’m going to miss you,” she said weakly. 
Applejack managed to keep her smile intact in the face of the tears threatening to burst through. “I know,” she drawled. 
The doors behind her opened and closed, pulling Applejack out of her memories, but the feeling of the kiss they had shared still burned her lips. In the reflection she could see Rarity staring at her. Not wanting to turn around and reveal her blush, Applejack remained silent. 
“Is everything alright, darling?” Rarity asked, taking her place next to Applejack.  
“Of course not,” Applejack said, turning away from the window to look at her friend. Despite the long course of their mission, Rarity still managed to keep her uniform fresh. Her being oozed a complicated desire to always look fabulous, something that Applejack never understood. 
Rarity turned her gaze to Applejack and asked, quietly, “You miss her, don’t you?” 
“Every day,” Applejack said and put her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. Rarity had always frowned upon Applejack’s jacket, saying that the uniform was fine on its own. Applejack had ignored her friend’s prissiness and eventually Rarity had accepted that the jacket wasn’t going away.   
“But I’m guessing that’s not the only thing on your mind,” Rarity said, raising a perfect eyebrow. Seeing Applejack’s hesitation, she said, “You can tell me, dear. I promise the troops will never know.” 
“It’s not that I don’t trust ya,” Applejack began. “I just don’t know. This might sound pretty dumb.” Rarity didn’t move and made no indications of speaking. “Alright. I guess I’ve just been thinkin’ about the mission. Why would Celestia need you, me, an’ Fluttershy out here? I don’t know, all of this just sounds suspicious is all.” Applejack thought about how stupid she sounded while Rarity processed the words. 
“You need a break,” Rarity said with a smile. “And as the CO, I grant you a week on leave.” 
“CO? Rarity, we’re the same rank.” 
“Applejack, darling, I am giving you a reason to go back to see Twilight and you are going to argue?” 
Applejack chuckled and shook her head. “Nah, I probably shouldn’t, not when you put it that way,” she said and turned back to the window. 
Rarity, still smiling, nodded. The two of them stood in companionable silence, watching ships go back and forth from Mars. Finally, Rarity said, “Provided that you two can stay out of the bedroom long enough, please find out what’s going on back home. I fear that your suspicions will keep me awake tonight.” 
Blushing, Applejack turned and walked towards the door. “No promises,” she called back. 

> Part 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Boredom. There was no other way to describe what Rainbow Dash was feeling. She paced restlessly across the bridge of her cruiser, a hurricane within a storm as the personnel maintained a steady stream of updates. All they did was fill the air with noise. Rainbow could easily access the reports through her augments before the words could leave a person’s mouth. The crew knew this as well as she did. The birth of augmentation had made all of the meat’s flaws so obvious. On the other hand, the crew was simply obeying orders. 
Rainbow stopped and looked at the city below. She had never been to New York, not even before her life-altering surgeries. Part of her had wanted to see the city, but the other half realized that she would be lost in the human tide. She had never wanted to lose that sense of importance bestowed upon her during childhood, so she stayed away from the city’s lurching maw. Calling upon her optical modifications, she pierced the flesh of the monster that had kept her away and focused on individual faces. 
Boring. Bland. Aimless. Clueless. Rainbow could have laughed at her childhood fears, but one factor stopped her. No one was smiling. That thought wormed past the noise on the bridge and embraced Rainbow. She suppressed a shiver. Pinkie would have made all of them smile. 
Rainbow shook her head and backed away from the view. She wasn’t going to be mired in regret, especially in front of her troops. For them, Rainbow would be strong. She would take the sadness and close her heart, pry the apathy away and throw it off a cliff. She was going to fulfill her orders to the letter and help create the world that Pinkie had wanted, and she could only do that by serving Celestia. The price was steep, but she owed her deceased friend that much. 
Fearing too much introspection, Rainbow made her way to the holographic map in the center of the bridge. A miniature model of the city displayed the current troop locations, each soldier outlined by gold. Rainbow wished she was down there with them, throwing all caution to the wind and getting a good run in. She wore the tight Hunter suit beneath her uniform, but that was as close as she could get on the ship. With a heavy sigh, she held up a hand, her fingertips blazing, and flipped through the various filters on the map. When she found the Hunters on the ground, she stopped and watched. Judging by their rapid movements, they had found a fugitive. Rainbow leaned towards the display and found herself grinning. 

The arrival and disappearance of a certain Sergeant Cloud Chaser should have left Vinyl feeling better. Octavia had avoided the soldier that had been actively searching for her. The fact that Cloud Chaser was a Hunter, someone who received augments specialized in reconnaissance and tracking, should have bolstered Vinyl’s confidence. Surely the military lacked the time and manpower to go through the entire city a second time. Even if there was another sweep, surely Octavia could hide in the meat locker and evade capture again. Despite all this, Vinyl had fallen victim to the sense of dread that had come with the hovering armada. She couldn’t look anywhere without being reminded of the brightly painted, blocky hulls that lingered above.  To make matters worse, armed soldiers patrolled the streets, fingers resting lightly on their triggers. 
Vinyl shuffled with the rest of the people on the sidewalk, her eyes glued to the concrete. Maybe if she made herself small no one would pick her out. Whenever she walked past the soldiers in their resplendent armor, she felt her heart beating against her ribs as if it wanted to jump out. Vinyl shook her head and told herself that she was being stupid. There was no way a random grunt could tell that she had Octavia at home. But what if they did? Before her mind could go down the long path of “what ifs,” Vinyl lowered her goggles and quickly opened her extensive music library. She needed to pump her head full of something upbeat, something loud. When she couldn’t decide, Vinyl hit the shuffle button and told herself to listen to the first song that came on. She listened to two seconds before deciding that she didn’t want to listen to that song and pressed “skip,” only to repeat the process for ten more songs. Damn it, why does all of my music suck? Vinyl wondered. Slowly becoming annoyed, Vinyl decided to settle on an album entitled “Balloon Party” and let it play. 
Vinyl felt like someone had flipped a switch within her brain, turning her from a nervous wreck into a normal human being. The giant knots of stress melted as the loud music pulsed throughout her system. Nodding her head in rhythm, Vinyl stood up straighter and even managed a smile. Reclamation? Octavia? What was that? Who was that? To Vinyl, walking down the street with a head full of music was just like the good old days. She missed working in the CyberLink, getting paid for what she would have done for free. Her eyes glazed over under the goggles and Vinyl ran into someone who was standing still.Muttering an apology, Vinyl shoved past them but saw that no one was moving. Confused, she turned her music off and suddenly heard screaming.   

Thunderlane was scared. No, scratch that, he was petrified. Over the course of his life, Thunderlane had acquired the nasty habit of procrastination. So he had a couple of tests coming up? He could just do his studying the night before. A date with the girl of his dreams? Who needs to shower when you can slap some deodorant on before walking out the door? Thunderlane had made some mistakes, sure, but he knew that none of his shortcomings were the end of the world. 
So the Reclamation was announced? He had laughed it off from the comfort of the couch with a beer in one hand and a sloppy swipe of the other to find some sports. He knew that his brother, Rumble, was still a “pure” human, but he could just take the kid to a shop later and have him wired up. He would do it tomorrow. But he had put that off, positive that he had plenty of time. Now, with Solar Empire troops in the building, Thunderlane was forced to face the cold truth:  he had burned through all of his tomorrows and Rumble was still human.
Desperation had fuelled Thunderlane’s actions. In a rush, Thunderlane had grabbed his brother, who had been eating breakfast, and dragged him out of their apartment. 
“But I wasn’t done eating!” Rumble protested, trying to get back to his half-eaten bowl of cereal. 
“So what? You can eat later, we gotta do this now!” Thunderlane said while he fumbled for his key. 
“Where are we going?” Rumble whined. 
“Frankie’s. He’ll give you somethin’ good. Maybe you’ll become a superhero. Doesn’t that sound cool?” Thunderlane provided, finally locking the door and grabbing his brother’s hand. 
“But I don’t want them! They make you all glowy and weird!” 
Thunderlane shook his head. He had heard this all before, about how Rumble got scared because his brother was basically staring off into space in a near-comatose state. Whenever he tried to explain that nothing was wrong, Rumble would run to his room and cry. He opened his mouth to argue when the elevator opened with a cheerful ding. All of the words he was going to say died in his throat. Four Hunters stood before them. 

Flitter looked at the two people before her with a hungry smile. One was augmented, wearing clothes that hadn’t been washed in weeks, and making an expression that made her wonder if shit would be trickling down his legs. The other was hardly better off, his expression a mix between fright and awe. Flitter didn’t have to use her augments to know that the young boy was pure. She took one, loud stomp forward, taking pleasure in seeing them both wince at the sound. Trying to lower her nasally voice to a growl, Flitter said, “Run, little boys. Run.” 
The two took off for the other end of the hall before she finished speaking. Flitter held up an armored hand to the three Hunters behind her. She watched her prey disappear around the corner, undoubtedly going to the stairwell. When they heard the door fly open, Flitter instinctively used her augments to raise her suit’s helmet. The face shield hadn’t even closed before the four Hunters were bursting through into the stairs. 

Thunderlane didn’t know why he was ascending rather than descending. In his fear-ridden mind, he thought it sounded like a good idea. The higher they went; the possibility of escape went up. It was flawless logic. Of course, he had no time to relate that to Rumble, who was now caught in Thunderlane’s white knuckle grip. 
The stairwell was becoming repetitive. Despite how much he was panicking, Thunderlane’s mind was racing. He thought of the many movies he had seen where the Solar Empire were the good guys. Then his mind slipped to the fight scenes, particularly one where a Hunter tore into a changeling’s chitinous armor with their arm-mounted machine guns. It had looked good when he had a giant tub of popcorn, but now he was being chased by four Hunters! Just keep going, Thunderlane told himself. Just keep going, oh Celestia, why are you doing this? Why, why, why? 

Flitter and her Hunters coasted behind, always keeping Thunderlane and Rumble in sight. They were close enough to remind their prey that they were there, but far enough away to make them think they had a chance. “That guy would’ve made a terrible soldier,” one of the Hunters remarked, causing the other three to laugh. 
One of the others had turned on her helmet’s external speakers. Her laughter floated up to Thunderlane, causing him to redouble his efforts and renewing their own merriment. Flitter knew that she shouldn’t have let the others act that way. She should have told them to be quiet and do this by the book. She really should have. 
However, the Reclamation had felt like a giant chore that had no end in sight. Flitter had set out and finished her assignments by the book, until the days and the faces became one giant blur. The whole business was depressing. So she wished a little fun onto her men, and if that involved joking around, where was the harm in that? There was none. 
Above, they saw Thunderlane and Rumble fly out of a door. When the Hunters reached it, Flitter pointed to the large letters on the door and read out loud, “Roof access.” The others laughed. 

Thunderlane paced back and forth. Rumble had gone silent. They were on the roof with no way down. The Hunters would come out any moment and take his brother away. Where would they take Rumble? What would they do to him? He had ran away from them. There was going to be some sort of punishment. Maybe an execution? There wouldn’t be that many witnesses. His eyes fell to the ledge. They were trapped. The door opened. He knew what he had to do. They weren’t going to get his brother. 

Flitter walked out to see the end result of a trapped and panicked man’s plans to get away. Still smiling under her faceplate, she ran to the edge of the building and looked over. Thunderlane and Rumble were falling towards the sidewalk. People were already giving the impending crash site a wide berth while they stared in fascination. Flitter sighed and threw herself off as well. The rockets on the underside of her boots gave her the extra speed she needed. 
She put her hand on Thunderlane’s shirt, making him turn around in shock. If he could see her face, he would have seen her smug smile. With a jerk, she threw him away from Rumble. He twisted in the air, still screaming, reaching for his brother who was now yelling for a different purpose. Flitter held the youth tight against her chest and forced her feet below her. The rockets killed their momentum, allowing for a safe descent. Thunderlane, on the other hand, fell with the knowledge that he had let his brother down. 
When her feet were firmly on the ground, Flitter put Rumble under one arm and carried him through the crowd. He tried to fight back and was calling out Thunderlane’s name. She didn’t have to tighten her grip, Rumble would never break free. No one in the crowd tried to stop her. Most of them were too busy looking at the ruined body she had left behind or running in terror. Flitter idly noted a young woman with blue hair standing in a doorframe, watching her behind tinted goggles. 

The screaming hadn’t stopped when the man hit the ground and the Hunter walked away with her prize. Vinyl had edged out of the crowd to avoid the people running around like maniacs. Whether someone was pushing towards the scene or away, she didn’t want to be trampled. Some of the troops had arrived to restore order. When they walked past Vinyl’s hiding spot, she could hear that their voices lacked conviction. One of them stopped right in front of her and sat down on the step below. He took off his helmet and lit a cigarette, distant eyes following the chaos before him. 
Vinyl shook her head. The weight of what she had just witnessed was going to kick in soon. In the Empress’ name, she had just seen a Hunter assist in a suicide! She resisted the urge to ask the soldier for a cigarette. No, no need for that. She activated her music again, but she could still see the people running. There was no rhythm to their movements, it was all just panic, and Vinyl could feel it eating into her. 
Fuck, she thought. Everything was being swallowed up in the rising flood. She needed a rock. In her despair, she sat down and thought of Octavia. 

> Part 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Octavia was safe. She knew this. She was so sure of this that she no longer had her nerves to focus on. Now, bored out of her mind and hardly focusing on her workout routine, she almost wished she was scared again. Octavia paused for a moment, weights suspended above her as she replayed the thought in her mind. I want to be scared again. Memories of a past exercise accident still fresh in her mind, Octavia gently lowered her weights to the ground.  Now that she was free from harm, she sat up on the bench and raised an eyebrow to herself. Alright. Why do I want to be scared? 
It’s not that I want to be scared. I just want to feel something new! 
Fair enough, Octavia conceded to herself. What else is there to do around here? Vinyl has taken to furnishing her apartment since I arrived. Her eyes drifted across the rest of the exercise equipment haphazardly strewn about the corner. She got off the bench and walked to the couch, careful not to trip. Maybe I could play the violin for a bit? That’s always been fun in the past. 
I don’t want to do that, her alternate self said. I want you to think about Vinyl some more.
Octavia felt the heat rise to her face. I already did. I have written all my feelings about my… generous host in my diary. That’s it, that’s done, I do not need to go back to that.
Oh, come on. What about that dream last night?
“Drop it,” Octavia said out loud, lightly rapping her knuckles against her head. She paused, her mind trying to comprehend the fact that she was talking to herself. “I must be losing it,” she said and dropped onto the couch, despite the fact that her body shone with sweat. Not for the first time, she wished she had augmentations so she could watch the news. It wouldn’t hurt to know what was happening outside. 
Octavia looked at the clock and was unpleasantly surprised to see that only five minutes had passed. Bored, her eyes inevitably drifted to her overnight bag. Or, more specifically, the little diary poking out. Just thinking about what she had written in there was enough to make her blush. Alright, you win. I’ll think about Vinyl some more.
Somewhere, a small part of her cheered and made popcorn. 
She leaned back on the couch so that she stared directly at the ceiling. Truth be told, Octavia couldn’t tell when Scratch had wormed her way into her heart. The ex-DJ turned babysitter had not been what Octavia had expected when she arrived. When Bass Leader’s men told her to pack, Octavia passed the time in the car wondering what lonely existence she was going to face as she lived out her days in some hole in the dirt. Instead, she was put in the care of a young woman who was very irritable if she didn’t have enough sleep or coffee. Not to mention that the two weren’t completely dissimilar. Sure, they had different tastes in music, but that wasn’t enough to stop them from being friends. 
Friends, eh? I don’t think that’s all you want to be. Octavia ignored her own jab at herself. At some point that Octavia wasn’t aware of, her feelings for Vinyl changed. There was just something about the DJ that made Octavia feel complete. Like nothing bad could ever happen when they were together. Octavia was sure it was too soon for her feelings to be considered love. The two had only been living together for about two months. Despite a complete lack of experience, Octavia was sure that she was thinking too much into things. Vinyl was just a great person. That was it. A great person with a great body. Yup. 
The door flew open and slammed shut within a second. The noise made Octavia leap and wonder where Vinyl had put the gun before she realized that it was just Vinyl. Her heart still leapt in her chest at the sight. However, as the DJ stepped into the apartment, Octavia was gradually filled with concern. “Vinyl? Is something wrong?” she asked. 
The DJ looked horrible and, instead of saying anything, threw herself at Octavia. The sudden proximity turned Octavia’s face several shades of red. Vinyl was squeezing her for all she was worth, not caring that Octavia was still sweaty from working out. Tentatively, Octavia returned the hug. “There, there,” she said, running a hand through Vinyl’s hair. “You’re back now. Nothing’s going to hurt you.” 
Vinyl held on for a moment longer before letting go, much to Octavia’s disappointment. She walked to the kitchen, grabbed a soda, and fell onto the couch. Vinyl took her goggles off and stared at the soda can. Octavia wondered if she was supposed to say something, and was about to do so when Vinyl spoke. “It’s going to hell out there.” Waving an arm to indicate the outside, she said, “I was just out there, saw a boy get picked up by some Hunters.” She paused, opened and closed her mouth a few times, and shook her head. Finally, she grabbed the soda and pulled the tab. “Let me start over,” she said and took a drink. Octavia waited patiently, unknowingly leaning forward. 
“Alright,” Vinyl began. “I was just walking, minding my own business, when I find a large crowd of people. That’s nothing new, I mean, look at where we are. It’d be strange if there wasn’t a crowd. But these people were all looking up, so I figure, they aren’t gonna move, I might as well see what all of the hubbub is about.” Another drink. “So I look up, and I see these two people. They had to have jumped or something. I mean, one of ‘em didn’t have augs, so I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t wanna go and things got desperate. Anyway, if that was the plan, this Hunter wasn’t gonna let it happen. So what do they do?” Another drink. “They jump off after them! This Hunter jumped off, caught up to the jumpers, and plucked the one kid out of the air and let the other one eat the pavement. Then they walked off like they had a box of pizza. Meanwhile, everyone’s freaking out, soldiers came in, blahblahblah.” Vinyl drained the rest of the can in one gulp and Octavia noticed her hands were shaking. “It was awful.”  
Octavia frowned, unsure of how to act after hearing that story. Could she say anything that would make Vinyl feel better? She put an arm around the DJ and pulled her into another hug. Her chin rested on the top of Vinyl’s blue head. From there, her eyes drifted to the violin Vinyl had bought her a while back, and an idea came to her. She let go of Vinyl and stood up, forcing the DJ to drop her arms, and picked up the instrument. 
After an experimental pluck of the strings, Octavia rested the bow, closed her eyes, and began to play. She preferred a cello, or even a double bass, but neither instrument was available. But with her eyes closed, she didn’t have to see Vinyl’s face distorting with disgust as she played. 
Octavia had to admit that, as the time wore on, she found herself repeating bits of the song. She didn’t even know why she was playing a song that she hadn’t even finished composing. It was supposed to be a lighter piece, designed to make someone feel better after a bad day. If she kept playing, she was sure Vinyl would chalk up her performance as the low point of the evening. Once that thought had arrived, she stopped. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “That song isn’t anywhere near completed.” 
“Play it again,” Vinyl said from the other side of the room. Octavia opened her eyes and saw the DJ had moved to stand behind her little speaker in the corner. Her fingertips were shining as she synchronized her virtual mixing table with the speaker, allowing Octavia to hear what Vinyl was doing. 
Hesitantly, Octavia started the song again. When Vinyl didn’t immediately join in, Octavia raised an eyebrow, but Vinyl waved a hand for her to keep going. Finally, at a point where Octavia thought the song was lacking something, Vinyl started playing a drumbeat. The two smiled at each other, Vinyl’s electronic beats mixing perfectly with Octavia’s strings. 
An hour passed, the sun had set, and the two were still playing. Octavia had spotted Vinyl giving her several looks during the set, but thought nothing of them. Even though the DJ always seemed to find something else to look at whenever she was caught, Octavia was determined that there was nothing strange about Vinyl’s behavior. That was until Vinyl said, “Fuck it,” and slipped out from behind the speaker, her augmentations allowing the music to keep playing without her. She stalked towards Octavia, who was still playing. 
Vinyl put her hand on Octavia’s, forcing her to stop. She tried to think that Vinyl was just going to do something silly. There was no way, no way that her increasingly dirty thoughts would be right. So Vinyl’s eyes were at half-mast and filled with… something, and the DJ was walking forward, making Octavia step back. The music was still playing when Octavia fell on the couch with a startled yelp and Vinyl was on her lap. Still completely innocent, Octavia told herself, although her heart wanted to fly out of her chest. Vinyl put her hands on the back of the couch, slowly leaning in. 
Although Octavia’s mind was working to convince herself that none of this meant anything, her body figured it had had enough. She put her hands on both sides of Vinyl’s head and pulled her forward, pressing their lips together. Vinyl’s red eyes shot open, apparently taken by surprise. Octavia chuckled to herself before closing her purple ones and throwing herself into pure ecstasy. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, the music was still playing.  

The first thing Applejack noticed after stepping out of her small, personal ship was the guards. In order to be staffed at Camelot, one had to do months of training and tests. It was the heart of the Solar Empire, and they took no risks. Celestia was the brain behind everything, but no one, barring Twilight, knew where she was. Applejack looked around the hangar for a bit, drawing the attention of every guard there. Something didn’t feel quite right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Shrugging, she walked forward. She needed answers. 
After the hangar came the shifting hallways. No one was quite sure why the place was built like that, but it came with its advantages. Applejack squared her shoulders and let muscle memory guide her to Twilight’s office. Without breaking stride, she pulled a spare keycard from her pocket, unlocked the door, and walked in like she belonged there. 
To her disappointment, Twilight was gone. Applejack frowned, looking out of the window to a view she missed too much, and decided to wait. She sat behind Twilight’s desk and kicked her feet up. There was no point in looking for documents while she had the chance, because she knew Twilight wouldn’t leave any copies around. Or she might, provided the woman’s paranoia. A loud yawn cancelled any thoughts of a search, however, and Applejack lowered the brim of her hat. She was dead tired after the flight, and she knew Twilight wouldn’t mind if she took a nap at her desk. 

> Part 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl slowly faded back into consciousness and felt something less than normal. She was in her bed, that much was certain. The sheets were soft as usual and were also rubbing against her bare flesh. She had noticed the presence and smell of another body as soon as she could, but she didn’t want to look, lest it all fade into a dream. Then the person shifted, somehow moving closer as if they had no other goal in life than to merge with Vinyl. The DJ’s body soon reminded her why she was awake and she cursed. 
After extracting herself from the swirling, all entangling mass that is Octavia, Vinyl stumbled in the dark room and went to the bathroom. A quick look at the clock said 9 am. Far too early to be awake, Vinyl decided and went back to the bedroom. 
In the light pouring in from the open door, Vinyl was able to see Octavia on the bed. Her heart stopped for a moment and her face heated up. Still sleeping, Octavia groped the sheets, undoubtedly looking for her companion. Vinyl slipped in with a grin. When Octavia’s probing fingers found her again, she pulled Vinyl with surprising strength and speed for someone who was asleep. I was on the bottom, wasn’t I? Vinyl wondered. A sudden memory and the soreness of her body confirmed her thoughts. She wore a smile as she drifted off again. 

The bed was empty when Vinyl woke up. She found herself pawing at the sheets Octavia had occupied and quickly stopped when she noticed the smell of breakfast. A quick sniff carried the promise of eggs, toast, and coffee, something that she never bought until Octavia had moved in. Now she couldn’t go a single morning without it. Her stomach rumbling, she stumbled out of bed and put on the first shirt and shorts that she could find.
Octavia looked over her shoulder when the bedroom door opened and gave Vinyl a smile that made her heart race. Her long hair was disheveled and her clothes were, like Vinyl, freshly picked off the floor. Vinyl saw the table was already set, with one plate full of food while Octavia was busy at the stove making another. “Good morning, Vinyl,” Octavia said.
“It most certainly is,” Vinyl replied and filled a mug of coffee, unaware that there was one waiting for her on the table. She turned, fresh cup in hand, and saw the table again. “Ah shoot,” she muttered. 
Octavia had just watched the scene unfold and couldn’t stop herself from laughing. Now that she was closer, Vinyl saw that Octavia was wearing a shirt with an adorable cat trying to make pizza. Where had she seen that shirt before? Octavia didn’t have one; she often delved into her plethora of gray attire. A sip of coffee made everything clearer. The shirt belonged to Vinyl.  
“You know, Vinyl, I’ve been thinking,” Octavia began, looking at the eggs in the pan. Vinyl’s heart raced. If this was going where she thought it would be going, she was ready. “About last ni—” 	
Vinyl reached out and put her free hand on Octavia’s wrist. “Shhh,” she said, putting her mug down. To her relief, Octavia’s rant was cut off and she put her hands on both sides of Octavia’s face, forcing her to look her in the eye. Vinyl hoped she was giving a warm gaze instead of a glare, but it seemed to do the trick. “There will be plenty of time to talk about that afterwards. For now, let’s just eat this delicious breakfast you set out for us, hm?” Octavia bit her lip. That action, combined with her large, lavender eyes was enough to make Vinyl’s fingers feel like they were tingling. Octavia took a deep breath, smiled, and said okay. 
Sharing the smile, Vinyl let go and was about to take a seat when a thought occurred to her. Octavia had pushed her eggs onto a plate and was about to pick it up when Vinyl’s arms shot out from behind and embraced her. Burying her face into Octavia’s hair, which mostly smelled like bed and sweat, Vinyl purred, “But just so you know, I don’t regret one bit of it.” Before pulling away, she kissed the back of Octavia’s neck.
She waited for Octavia to turn around with a big smile. When she did, Vinyl saw that Octavia was wearing a large, sloppy smile and her eyes were clouded over. It would have been cute, if she didn’t look like she’d drop the plate. “C’mon, Tavi, let’s have some breakfast.” Broken out of her trance, Octavia set her food on the table and the two began eating. 
All throughout breakfast, the two exchanged glances and smiles, and sometimes broke out giggling for no reason. The talk after might be important, but neither of them gave it much thought. For now, they were happy for what felt like the first times in their lives. Depression, sadness, those were emotions that they faced every day, so the two readily cast those thoughts out of their meal. They would be waiting, of course, clawing at the glass bubble the two had put over themselves. But for now, the two had found a shelter from the turbulent storm. 

The bubble shattered when breakfast was done. Reality walked up to the pair with a large chair and a shit eating grin and sat back to watch the show. Both of them had finished eating, so there were no distractions. Vinyl had sensed Octavia’s mood shifting near the end of breakfast. She leaned back with her second coffee mug and took a sip. If Octavia had something prepared, she decided to let her talk first. Thankfully, the other woman seemed hesitant to start. Vinyl sipped her coffee again and kept eye contact. She never knew just how precious a simple thing like silence could be and would like to hear more of it. 
“What was last night, Vinyl?” 
Any thoughts completely vanished from her mind and, faced with a blank slate, Vinyl nearly panicked. “W-what do you mean?” 
“Last night. You know, where you pinned me on the couch and we made out? I’m well aware that you don’t regret it, and neither do I, but what did it all mean to you?” 
“It meant we both had a good time?” Vinyl asked with a hopeful smile. 
Octavia’s mood darkened. “I see. I guess I was wrong about you, Vinyl.” She stood up and was about to clean the table when Vinyl understood the meaning behind her words. Octavia wanted something more concrete than being listed as a fuckbuddy. She wanted to know that she was being appreciated as a person and not used for release. 
Vinyl couldn’t stop herself from gasping at her own stupidity. “Wait!” she said and held up a hand. Octavia looked at her like she was a piece of gum under her shoe. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.” Those searing, lavender orbs were still standing up, and Vinyl decided that she was waiting for an explanation. “What I meant to say was that, last night was…” she took a sip of coffee and shook her head. 
“Last night was great, Tavi.” Vinyl furrowed her brow and tried to think of what to say next. A sip of coffee was absolutely welcomed, but the admission didn’t seem to make Octavia feel any better. “Yesterday, when I saw that… scene. It was terrible. Absolutely everything was going to shit and I was lucky to have gotten off the street. When I was sitting there, watching everyone run around in chaos, the only thing that kept me from joining them was you.” Vinyl inwardly winced at how cheesy that sounded. She had to cut back on the movies. “And that wasn’t the first time that’s happened. The Reclamation has everyone confused, but just when I’m about to lose my head, I just think of you being here and it just makes me feel better.” Octavia’s brow softened, but Vinyl found that she wasn’t quite done talking. She had to completely reassure Octavia. Reaching out, she took Octavia’s hands and held them tightly. “You’re not just some passing fling to me, Octavia. I really, really like you, and I’d like to see where we’ll go if you want.” 
Octavia’s face had gradually softened during Vinyl’s rant. Sensing that Vinyl was done, she opened her mouth to speak but stopped when she realized something. Instead of talking, Octavia started laughing. Vinyl’s eyes darted around in confusion before finally resting on the clock. Two minutes passed before Octavia stopped. She leaned back and wiped a tear from her eye. 
“You done?” Vinyl asked, to which the other woman nodded vigorously. “What was that all about?” 
Octavia took a deep breath, still fighting back some of the laughter. “Oh you have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that,” she began. “And I am sure that my actions last night have told you how I feel about you.” Vinyl nodded. “But there’s just one thing, dear, that I think we both forgot.” She got out of her chair and walked over to Vinyl’s side, wrapping her arms around the DJ and put her lips against her ear. “We didn’t think about the Reclamation.” 
Vinyl shivered at the warm breath against her ear but was still confused. “What about it?” 
“I never thought I would be the one explaining the repercussions to you, Vinyl,” Octavia said, deciding that she didn’t want to stand anymore and sat on Vinyl’s lap. She giggled at Vinyl’s confusion and kissed her brow. “Even though we both want this to last, it’s not going to. My father will send his little cronies here and he will whisk me away to a place of complete ‘safety’ for my ‘well-being.’” Octavia’s smile was almost manic. Was she having a breakdown? Did Vinyl want to be pinned down when she snapped? 
“Guess I forgot about that,” Vinyl said with a half-hearted chuckle. “So now what?” 
Octavia leaned in until their noses touched and Vinyl could only see her lavender eyes. “There are several things we could do,” she said, lowering her voice. Octavia’s eyes were full of lust and Vinyl felt her heart racing. “Tell me, Vinyl, what is Shield?” 
“Huh?” Vinyl’s mind was fogging with Octavia’s proximity. Her touch, her scent, her eyes made thinking difficult. “It’s something with uh,” she licked her lips. “It’s a gel or liquid that they pump you with when you get augments. Something about making the body accept the new tech faster. Why?” 
“And that’s all that’s needed to make someone ‘impure’ right?” 
Vinyl’s eyes widened. “You want to get augments?” 
Octavia shrugged. “It might have crossed my mind,” she teased. 
“But Bass Leader said that—”
“Oh he can go fuck himself,” Octavia said. “I’m not asking because of him, and I’m not asking because I want to screw you over, I am genuinely curious. Without augments, it feels like I’m being left behind of the rest of the human race. I look around and see everyone waving their hands and staring at me because I’m different. And now there are soldiers dragging people like me away to go somewhere? I am scared, Scratch, and if a little augment is the only thing that is going to keep me from the soldiers, I think it’s a pretty small price to pay.” 
“And your dad?” 
“He probably wants me ‘pure’ so I can reproduce and build his legacy. Make no mistake; he has no one’s interests at heart but his own.” Octavia got off of Vinyl and went to the bathroom. “I trust you can do the dishes.” 
“Yeah, sure,” Vinyl said to an empty room. 

Applejack didn’t wake up at Twilight’s desk as she expected. Crisp, pristine, warm sheets covered her body. The pillow underneath felt like a giant cloud. The room was dark, but she knew she was in Twilight’s room. She let out a loud yawn as she sat up, stretching her arms and back until she heard a satisfying crack. The two half-moons on the sides of her eyes lit up, casting a faint blue glow into the room. Her heads-up display showed that she had been asleep for hours. “Must’ve been more tired than I thought,” she muttered. 
The door opened and the lights turned on. Twilight stood in the doorway, holding a tray of food and wearing a smile. As soon as Applejack saw her, the rest of the room melted away. She had seen the clean, bare surroundings enough time to walk around with her eyes closed. The woman walking towards her, however, was a sight she never got tired of. “Why aren’t you naked?” Applejack asked, eyes taking in every inch of Twilight’s uniform. 
Twilight’s grin grew. “Good morning to you too. And don’t worry, I ravaged you last night. It’s a shame you were too tired to remember.” 
Applejack leaned back, closed her eyes, and sniffed. “Liar. But I’m pretty awake right now.” She opened her eyes to half-mast and was rewarded by Twilight’s adorable blush, completely evident despite her dark skin. 
“That you are, but we’ve been together long enough for me to know that your breath is rancid in the morning. Now eat up.” 
“Yes, Commander,” Applejack droned and accepted the tray. A bowl of oatmeal, an apple, and a cup of coffee stared at her. Twilight was about to sit on the bed when Applejack said, “Careful there, Twi. If you get too close, I might just tear that uniform off of ya.” 
Twilight sat down regardless. “I agree, it has been a long time since I’ve seen you,” she said, locking her shining eyes on Applejack’s. “I’ve missed all of you so much, but you came back alone. Where are Rarity and Fluttershy?” 
Applejack cleared her throat and put the tray aside. “Well, there’s a reason behind that. Mission’s goin’ well, but there’s been some confusion out there, and not just between us three. Ever since we were sent out, there hasn’t been a bit of information from here. Rarity sent me back for a bit of fact findin’.” 
There was a flicker of nervousness in Twilight’s eyes. Applejack wondered if she was sent back because of her relationship with their commander. She could see past Twilight’s fancy wordplay and see what was happening, exactly. “What’s goin’ on, Twi? You sent us out to Mars of all places, when no one even thought of settling there, with blue prints and supplies. There’s plenty of room for a lot of people out there.” 
Twilight sighed, her nose slightly flaring and her left eye twitched for a brief moment. She looked like she wanted to say something. Applejack put her hand on Twilight’s shoulder and gave a reassuring smile. “How’s Rainbow doin’? I know she’s around here somewhere.” 
“I am a terrible person.” The words hung in the air, gradually filling it with confusion and self-pity. Applejack didn’t know what to make of Twilight’s statement. She was about to speak when Twilight abruptly stood up and walked out of the room. Applejack sat on the bed and blinked before exploding into motion. She tore off the pajamas and put on her uniform, which was folded in a neat pile on a dresser. There hadn’t been enough time to put on her leather jacket, which she now carried over her shoulder. 
Twilight’s room was connected to her office, a true testament to her work ethic. The view behind Twilight was, as always, the gentle curve of Earth below. She had always liked to see the planet she worked so hard to protect. The woman herself was sitting at her desk, idly pulling up documents out of air. Applejack walked around the desk to stand beside Twilight, eyes scanning Twilight’s work. 
“What is this?” Applejack gasped. “Reclamation? Augments are our demise?” She put her hands on the desk and leaned in. “Acquire any and all non-augmented persons to be immediately processed by any means necessary.” She took a deep breath and stepped back. Twilight hadn’t moved, preferring to sink into her chair. “Twi, what have you been doin’?”
Twilight idly waved a hand at the text. “Celestia’s orders,” she croaked. “If augments are going to kill off humanity, she wanted to preserve the people that could still reproduce and put them on Mars so they wouldn’t be tempted to get the augments themselves. That would be less people who could create offspring.” 
Applejack felt her jaw tighten. “And are these people just volunteering? Do they know what’s goin’ to happen to them?” 
Twilight slowly shook her head. “Any means necessary,” she repeated. 
Applejack closed her eyes, trying to absorb this information and accept it in a reasonable manner. She failed. “This,” she began, waving a hand at the documents, “is just evil.” 
“I know!” Twilight blurted. “I know how terrible this all sounds, but these are Celestia’s personal orders! Surely she wouldn’t be doing this if there was no other way.”  
“Twi, sugar,” Applejack choked out. “I know you’re stressed out, but if this is truly going to be the end of us, would you rather be surrounded by your family or scared an’ alone, knowin’ that you’ll never see ‘em again?”  
“I… I never even thought of that.” 
“Then it sounds like there’s only one thing left to do,” Applejack drawled. She put on her hat and headed for the door. “I’m goin’ down there, and I’m gonna stop this thing.” At the door, she turned to look at Twilight. “You comin’?” 
“I don’t know.”
Applejack bit back the bile in her throat. She swallowed and felt it filling the cracks in her heart. “Twi,” she said, voice slowly rising, “you said it yourself that this makes you feel terrible. I’m giving you a chance to make things right.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. Seeing Twilight’s downcast expression hurt her more than she thought. “It’s a tough call, and I’m going right now. I’d like to see you down there, sometime. I love you,” she said and walked away before Twilight said anything. 
The changing hallways passed quickly and she was already in the hangar when she noticed something was wrong. Every guard was staring at her. Part of her suspected betrayal, but she knew Twilight would never stoop so low. No, there was something else at play. She unbuckled her holsters, a move that was undoubtedly seen by every guard, and strolled toward her ship. Someone had gone and made a perfectly clear line for her, completely devoid of cover. How considerate.
In the complete silence that settled in the hangar, Applejack’s only hint came from a reflection. Behind her, one of the soldiers had raised their gun, aiming directly at her. Swearing, she took off at a sprint, kicking full power to her leg augments to go faster. The guards started shooting, sending bullets everywhere around her. Applejack tucked her head down and threw herself behind her ship. Bullets pinged off of the metal for a second before the soldiers stopped. Sucking in a breath, Applejack quickly pulled herself into the cockpit and closed the canopy before anyone could react. 
She punched in the start-up sequence and felt the ship come to life beneath her. The guards were fanning out and started shooting again when they realized what was happening, but their small arms were no longer a threat. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Applejack flew out of the hangar, brow sweating as she waited to hear Camelot’s defenses locking on. 
A minute passed and nothing happened. She let out an explosive sigh and shook her head. Realization was sinking in. She was officially a traitor now. Those troops were well within their rights to shoot at her. “No goin’ back now,” she muttered and took her ship into Earth’s atmosphere. 

Vinyl climbed the steps to her apartment. Her hands had finally stopped shaking from nerves, but she couldn’t help but be excited. After Octavia had stepped out of the shower, they had another conversation about her getting augments. Vinyl’s defenses had been paper thin out of her own design. She had decided that Bass Leader could go fuck himself. He had had a lot of time to collect his daughter before. As far as Vinyl was concerned, his time was up. And if Octavia wanted augments, who could stop her? With a spring in her step, Vinyl had left the apartment to find a shop that would take the job.
The nerves had settled in once she was out of the door. How would she do this? There were soldiers everywhere, and they would undoubtedly be searching the chop shops. Or maybe they wouldn’t because there wouldn’t be any ‘pure’ humans there? Not to mention the risk involved in transporting Octavia to the location once an agreement was made, but that could wait until later. 
There were several clinics in the area, and Vinyl went to all of them. Broaching the subject with the practitioners had left her terrified, but one of them, a woman called Frankie, had agreed. The job would be done that night, all Vinyl had to do was get Octavia and run her over to…
Was that smoke?  
Vinyl sniffed again. All of her nerves came flying back as she ran up the stairs. None of her neighbors were out in the hall, all of their doors slammed shut and probably barricaded. Except for hers. 
“Oh no,” Vinyl whispered. She opened her messenger bag and pulled out the pistol. “No no no no,” she repeated as she ran to the apartment. This was just a coincidence. The smoke was someone’s bad cooking. The silence was caused by everyone being asleep or out on the town. The door was open because of her own carelessness. Octavia sure would give her hell for that. But the facts didn’t lie. 
As she got closer, she saw that the door was blown off of the hinges. No sounds came from within the apartment, but she still held the gun up as she entered. “Tavi?” she said. “This isn’t funny!” 
She opened the bedroom door. No Octavia. The bathroom. No Octavia. Holding her breath, Vinyl bent down at the meat locker and rapped it. The locker opened, and it was empty. Vinyl felt the hot tears boiling behind her eyes and she let the gun fall to the floor. That’s it, she thought. Game over, end of story. The Empire has her. I failed her. 
Vinyl collapsed onto the couch and choked out a sob. The coarse cushion against her cheek still smelled like her. It made sense, Octavia had been sleeping on the couch ever since she arrived. Vinyl took off her goggles and decided to let it all out. She cursed at the top of her lungs when she wasn’t sobbing too hard. The burden of guilt squeezed down on her, forcing out every tear that she had until the cushion had a sizeable stain. It’s over, she repeated to herself. I’ll never see her again. 
A faint ping woke her up. Vinyl slowly rose from the couch and sniffled. She ran her arm under her nose to get rid of the snot that had accompanied the tears. With her other hand, she picked up her goggles and slipped them on. She just wanted to go back to sleep. At least Octavia was there. She waved her free hand, maneuvering through her display to get to her messages. 
“Oh fuck me,” she whispered. The message was from Bass Leader. His men would be coming shortly. Vinyl’s hand fell limply to her side and she looked around the apartment. A minute passed before a chuckle, low and devoid of joy, bubbled from her lips. 


> Part 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Like clockwork, Bass Leader’s lackeys showed up in their crisp suits and dark sunglasses. They entered Vinyl’s apartment and found the DJ staring at the ceiling, a faraway look in her red, puffy eyes. Unwilling to return to their boss empty handed, the lackeys corralled Vinyl down the stairs and into their car. 
There might have been some attempt at communication, but Vinyl had drawn back into her own little world. She barely registered the breakneck speeds they traveled at or the cloying scent of being stuck in the same car with four men who loved the same cologne. Octavia, Octavia. The name repeated itself and she made no attempt to stop it. If she hadn’t cried so much, her body would have found some more tears to squeeze out. Instead, the body decided that passing out would be a better course of action. 	

She wished she never woke up. 
When she did, Vinyl found that her hands had been tied above her head and Bass Leader was in front of her. As soon as he was sure she was awake, he laid into her. Giant fists flew into her, breaking her. She screamed until Bass Leader decided that he didn’t like the sound and choked her. Fingers dug into her skin, black spots appeared. Vinyl tried to keep her head down, tried to make it harder for him to keep his grip, but to no avail. When he let go, each breath felt as if it was passing through a hot furnace on the way down to her lungs. 
Before, when Octavia was still around, there was a sense of happiness that Vinyl had taken for granted. Aside from the Hunter-assisted suicide, there really hadn’t been a bad day. Looking back on it through an increasing haze in her mind, Vinyl could easily say that Octavia was the best thing that ever happened to her. Now it seemed like the universe was making up for lost time. A whole month without misery? No, you have to meet your quota, so we’re going to let Bass Leader turn you into his punching bag. Oh, and we’ll be taking Octavia away too. Vinyl sucked in more breath. The universe was a real asshole. 	
Vinyl had tried to keep count of the beatings, but they were slowly becoming a blur. Bass Leader pulled back again, his chest heaving and his skin slick with sweat. His augments, which had been the standard blue color before, were now glowing bright orange. There had been scenes in movies, Vinyl remembered, where a soldier’s augments were burning orange as they performed herculean feats, often accompanied by an amazing soundtrack. But only military should have access to any sorts of strength enhancing augments. That’s what the brochure had said, right? Bass Leader’s fists opened and closed repeatedly, obviously suffering from a withdrawal of beating Vinyl senseless. The veins in his neck were fighting to contain all of the pressure flowing through. It was an image that Vinyl could recall seeing several times already, until those two fists would fly at her again like a pair of comets. That was when everything got really fuzzy, but sometimes the explosions in her vision made neat shapes. 
While Bass Leader wasn’t using her head to practice the conga drums, she decided to take stock of the damage. To her surprise, she found that thinking about anything was extremely difficult.  He must be a real knockout with those drums, she thought, chuckling at her own terrible joke. That got her another punch to the stomach, and her body instinctively tried to double over, but her restraints kept her still. Alright, joking is very, very bad, Vinyl concluded. 
One of Bass Leader’s massive bunker busters that could be called a fist wrapped itself around a large chunk of her hair. With a savage tug, he brought her head up. Vinyl couldn’t differentiate the pain in her scalp from the giant bruise her face was undoubtedly becoming. That didn’t stop her from letting out a sharp yelp of pain. If Bass Leader was enjoying himself, he didn’t show it. Vinyl doubted any emotion could force itself through the rictus of rage that had burned itself into her ever fading memory of this whole event. 
“You lost her,” Bass Leader said. His voice was strained and his words were clipped. Talking sounded like a chore, or maybe Vinyl’s hearing was off. She didn’t doubt that he would rather be punching her again. 
“I didn’t lose nothin’,” Vinyl slurred. Bass Leader’s fist broke her nose before she saw it.  Wrong answer, apparently.  
“One job. You had one fucking job,” Bass Leader hissed. “All you had to do was keep her safe. I provided everything!” he drew out each syllable. 
Vinyl tried to blink past the fog. “I di’ do dhat! ‘ad her for a monb, over a monthb, I think.” She looked around, momentarily wondering why her voice sounded so strange, but Bass Leader filled her vision. “I bean, where were ‘ou, huh? Din’t do nothin’ but sit round f-” Another punch and Vinyl could feel several loose teeth. 
“You think I didn’t do anything? That I was sitting around?” Bass Leader twisted her hair, causing her to scream and look at the ceiling. “I was out working. I was preparing Octavia’s shelter. I was removing the information network that was following my family. I haven’t slept in days and you think I was being lazy?” Bass Leader’s hot breath smelled like coffee and tobacco. Vinyl thanked her brain for the absolutely useless information. 
With that revelation out of the way, Vinyl clawed for a way to redirect Bass Leader’s rage to something else. “Inbormation netwok?” she asked, expecting another punch. 
Luckily, Bass Leader let go of her hair and backed away. “Yes,” he said and walked over to his suit jacket. It was sprawled over the back of a plain, metal chair. Vinyl flinched, hoping that he wasn’t going to use the chair as a weapon. Instead, he pulled out a cigarette and managed to put it between his clenched teeth. “A family as prestigious and… colorful as mine has attracted the attention of many enemies. I can’t say the Solar Empire has approved of many of my decisions, so when the Reclamation started, I wasn’t surprised when I picked up some luggage. Would you like to meet one?” 
Vinyl had barely opened her mouth to speak when the door flew open. One of Bass Leader’s lackeys, a tall man with blonde hair, entered. Behind him was another man, smaller and in worse shape than Vinyl was in. The lackey deposited the spy at the other end of the room so that he was facing Vinyl, but the man didn’t raise his eyes. 
Bass Leader closed his lighter with a loud snap. Smoke immediately filled the room. “Do you want to know why I am where I am today, Ms. Scratch?” he asked, his voice now devoid of any bloodlust. He sounded like he was going to offer her a job or a cup of coffee. A cup of coffee would’ve been great. “It’s because I can see potential tools.” He stood up and pointed at the lackey with his cigarette. “He’s a prime example. If I need someone roughed up when I’m too busy, boys like him are a dime a dozen. All that differentiates him from the rest is his suit and augs.” 
He stood in front of her now but made no move to grab her hair. “The same goes for you. I hired you because I knew I could use you later. Sure, you might have performed… worse than I had hoped, but perhaps escorts aren’t your forte. You wouldn’t use a hammer when you need a screwdriver, right? No, I just had you do the wrong job. So,” he said and pulled out a key, “I want you to try something else.” 
With the shackles gone, Vinyl slumped to the ground. Her head was spinning again, but her stomach and chest were also screaming for attention. There might’ve been some complaining from her ribs, but at that point, she just couldn’t tell. She noticed Bass Leader’s well polished shoes were still right in front of her. Hesitantly, Vinyl picked her head up—
--and found herself staring at a pistol. She instinctively blinked and tried to back away, only to press herself against the concrete wall. “Tell me, Ms. Scratch,” Bass Leader said after seeing her reaction, “how would you like to try killing?” 
Vinyl licked her dry lips and droned, “I dun wanna.” 
Bass Leader didn’t move. “You don’t have a choice,” he said and grabbed her arm. The pistol was suddenly in her hand, but she made no move to drop it. “There’s only one bullet,” he said, gesturing to the soldier across the room. “Make it count.” 
The fog in Vinyl’s head refused to clear up. She knew something very important was happening, but she couldn’t think. Her brows knitted together. Kill someone? Why would I do that? I’ve never done anything like that. Why should I do this? I don’t want to do this. Just then, a part of Vinyl’s brain whispered an idea that should’ve been obvious once she got the gun. Raising her sore arms, she soon had Bass Leader in her sights. 
The lackey started forward, but Bass Leader stopped him by raising his hand. He stepped closer to Vinyl, never breaking eye contact. Vinyl found her determination waning, which caused the gun to shake. She was just as likely to hit the wall if she fired.  When he was a foot away, Bass Leader said in crisp, clear words, “You cannot do that.” 
Thanks to the mirrored lenses grafted over Bass Leader’s eyes, Vinyl was able to see her small form wince. She also felt her determination melting. That was it. He had said the magic words. Vinyl didn’t even know her aim was floating towards the soldier, who was undoubtedly sedated. Nonononononononono! Don’t shoot him! Shoot Bass Leader! Vinyl pleaded to herself. But her body, that traitorous meat sack, didn’t listen. 
The explosion at her fingertips made Vinyl jump. Bass Leader broke eye contact to survey her work, give a crisp nod of satisfaction, and walked out. The lackey stayed a few seconds longer to give her some sort of glare before leaving. Vinyl closed her eyes and heard the gun fall to the floor, slipping from her suddenly numb fingers. She didn’t want to look. She wanted this horrible ride to end. She wanted to wake up next to Octavia, give her a kiss, and see that smile again. 
The smell of gunpowder couldn’t mask the scent long enough. When Vinyl opened her eyes, she saw her handiwork. The shattered body in front of her, she felt, couldn’t be described. She stared for ten seconds before she leaned over and voided her stomach. 

Due to someone else’s decision, Octavia found herself penned in a warehouse with the other people who had been reclaimed. A catwalk ran the perimeter of the building and was constantly manned by soldiers. Their closed helmets prevented anyone from seeing their faces, so no one knew what their captors were thinking. That didn’t stop the more vocal people from hurling every swear they had ever heard. Rows of beds had been set up, though Octavia was loath to use any of them. 
She had slowly gravitated to a small group of quiet people. She didn’t want to be alone, even though her present company was a far cry from being with Vinyl. Remembering the DJ brought a tear to her eye, which she viciously rubbed aside. She was too scared to be sad here. Images of people ganging up on her played within her active mind, even though she knew that everyone was in the same situation. Any terrible thoughts were pushed aside when the gates on the other end of the warehouse opened. 
Several soldiers poured in, pushing large carts of food. “Dinner time!” one soldier yelled. The people shuffled over and Octavia got into line. She was too frightened to be hungry, but she knew that the last thing she ate was breakfast with Vinyl. Her body probably wanted food. Zoning out allowed time to pass quickly. Before she knew it, she was face to helmet with a soldier. 
“Any known food allergies?” he asked. Either his helmet’s speakers distorted his voice or he was genuinely exhausted. Octavia shook her head and the man directed her to one of the carts. Hesitantly, Octavia stepped forth and looked in. The cart was full of cardboard containers, all of which had its contents emblazoned in thick letters. She reached in and grabbed one at random before moving far away from the others. 
Opening the box revealed a large chicken sandwich, a bag of chips, and a brownie. Octavia raised an eyebrow. She was expecting some sort of gruel that not even Vinyl could have eaten, but this was actually pretty nice. Her mouth started to water and she took a bite of the sandwich.
The good food didn’t absolve the Solar Empire of their sins in her eyes. Time was ticking by and the sun was setting. The guards had changed and, unlike the last group, these guards felt like they had to address every insult with loud laughter. The fact that these soldiers could enjoy the misery they were inflicting chilled Octavia. She didn’t feel safe at all that night and winced when the lights were turned off. She stumbled onto a random bed and covered her head with the thin blanket. People were yelling back and forth, even though their voices were getting hoarse. 
Octavia curled into a ball and let out a whimper. There would be no sleep  coming that night. 

> Part 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bass Leader was a busy man. A lazy, unmotivated man could not hope to create the most infamous nightclub in town and also juggle the responsibilities of some shadowy business in the background. No, that took someone with vision, someone with drive. His schedule was always packed and he probably ate his meals on the go, but he could always find time to make Vinyl suffer. 
Before Vinyl could get over her first kill, he came back into the room with another soldier. It felt like Bass Leader had only been out of the room for an instant, or it could have been hours. Vinyl couldn’t tell the difference, she was too busy sitting against the wall like a puppet whose strings had been cut, looking at the corpse and soaking in self-pity. This one had begged for his life after seeing his colleague’s body. He had a wife, child, and he might have even talked about his dog, but Vinyl tuned it out. She didn’t want to know the man she was about to unwillingly kill. When the man stopped ranting, Bass Leader gave her another pistol. Vinyl could only murmur apologies as she pulled the trigger. 
This time, Bass Leader did not walk out of the room. He examined the fresh corpse with a critical eye. It was as if he was not in a small room with two dead bodies and a pool of vomit. If he was wearing his suit jacket, Bass Leader would not have been out of place in an art gallery with a snifter in hand. Was this what this was all about? Bass Leader saw this as an art project? Vinyl dismissed the notion, but she could still hear him say, “The artist depicted them dying with a shot to the head because it was expedient,” or “It’s a shot to the head because the artist doesn’t like suffering.” If there was some artistic meaning behind this all, Vinyl had no doubts that someone would link it back to sexuality, like the gunshots to the head were a metaphor for vaginas and that men only ever think about sex. She could hear a critic say that.  
“You are either blocking it out or you’ve already steeled yourself,” Bass Leader said, breaking her thoughts. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. Get on your feet.” 
Confused, Vinyl shakily stood up. The empty pistol slipped from her grip and landed next to its counterpart. Bass Leader gestured towards the door. Vinyl got out as fast as she could. She was too happy to leave that room behind. 
She emerged into a dull, gray hallway. Bass Leader motioned to the left. “The Reclamation is a lumbering beast,” Bass Leader said from behind Vinyl. “They come in with their luminescent ships and storm homes within seconds, all while bearing a sign of peace. However, this works in our favor. The good general, she’s a perfectionist and absolutely loyal to the Empire. If Celestia told her she couldn’t eat anymore, she would probably sew her mouth shut. Because Celestia herself told Rainbow Dash to get every human, she is going to get every human. This provides us a great opportunity.” 
Bass Leader was being awfully talkative with the person he had been beating on twenty minutes ago. Vinyl’s gut twisted with unease. They reached an unmarked door and Bass Leader showed her through. “I trust that you recall our conversation about tools,” Bass Leader continued. Vinyl’s eyes widened when she saw an operating table in the middle of the room. She wanted to run out, but Bass Leader blocked the door and pushed her forward. 
“Yes, I thoroughly believe that you will be much more useful as a killer than a babysitter. You are a woman of action, not someone who can sit idly by.”  Bass Leader squeezed her shoulder as he pushed Vinyl closer to the table. “As fate would have it, I will soon require someone who won’t back down in a gunfight. All you need now,” he gestured to the table, “is the right hardware.” Without warning, he scooped Vinyl up and threw her on the table. Restraints were in place before she got her breath back. Bass Leader leaned over her, and she saw herself in his eyes again. She still looked pathetic. “You might think I’m doing this out of cruelty, but I am not. I just want to see my daughter again.” Then he was gone. The restraints prevented Vinyl from looking around the room, but she could hear the surgeons descending upon her. 

Not done out of cruelty. The thought somehow forced itself to the front of Vinyl’s mind. If she could, she felt like she would have laughed. But, thanks to a few injections, even thinking incoherently was a bit of a chore. The surgeons had left her body completely numb. 
A few giant machines lurched over her. Was that an organ or was she delirious? Aren’t organs important? Shouldn’t they be leaving that alone? No, she was simply hallucinating.
There was a few times where she saw a masked face, but they were gone in an instant. The bags dripping stuff into her were much more interesting. 
At least this was better than Bass Leader’s beatings. She couldn’t feel anything and she was lying down. Except this might be causing more damage than being ravaged.  
What’s that? Is that skin? It shouldn’t be opened like that, right? These were licensed surgeons, right? 
A person reached for her eyes. 
Pop! Her vision was gone. 
Who turned out the lights? Where did everything go? What’s that feeling? Is that a drill? Yep, that’s a drill. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
Pop! Her vision was back again. 
Modern medical engineering allowed her to be awake for all of it. Progress is great. 

Vinyl wasn’t stupid. Bass Leader’s plan was transparent. With all of the fancy hardware and the executions, he was trying to turn her into his little assassin girl. What was next? Was Bass Leader going to have his team of surgeons implant razor blades underneath her fingernails? Was she going to be called Steppin Razor by the bitter, bloody end? A chill crept up her spine and her arm twitched. Would she still be Vinyl Scratch? Would Octavia see the woman she liked or had her soul been torn out and replaced by some new kill chip? Vinyl wasn’t even sure if she could answer her own questions.  
Resistance was becoming difficult. She couldn’t have been under Bass Leader’s care for more than a day, but her aversion to… everything was fading. Bass Leader was winning. How did she know? Vinyl lowered the smoking pistol and only now became aware of the line of bodies she had just freshly executed. 
She didn’t even know who she was shooting anymore. Some of them didn’t even look like soldiers. That fat guy in a dirty suit couldn’t have given a single push up if his life depended on it. Maybe that’s the price he paid. Vinyl could see Bass Leader forcing the fat man into some sort of exercise. “Do it or I’ll feed you to my killer. She’ll be extra blood-thirsty,” Bass Leader would’ve said. Vinyl chuckled. At least she got some sort of reaction. 

The crowd grew. Soldiers would come in with some new arrival, some new face that either displayed anger or grief. Vinyl had said that some people had ran to the Solar Empire when the Reclamation started. They had placed complete trust within Celestia. Where were those people now? Did they feel regret or were they living on cloud nine? Octavia didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. Looking around, she guessed that people like that had dried up long ago and the soldiers were only collecting the dregs. 
Somewhere a child cried. Part of her wanted to go over and comfort him, but she was still too scared to be involved with anyone there. No one else paid the child any mind. Was she a bad person for isolating herself? 
Octavia took a deep breath and played with a string on her hoody. The soldiers had supplied beds and food, but nothing else to pass the time. Someone had brought in a pack of cards and there seemed to be a poker tournament going on, which occasionally resulted in a cheer, but she had no intentions of going over there. It hasn’t even been a day. How long are we going to stay here? Octavia wondered, drawing her legs up and resting her chin on her knees. 
She closed her eyes against the persistent headache she had since her arrival. It was probably an unhealthy combination of stress and lack of caffeine. I’ve been abducted and I’m thinking about coffee. How petty of you, Octavia, she thought and chuckled. It sounded like she was clearing her throat. 
As time passed, her legs were starting to hurt. She got off of her bed and paced around the hangar reluctantly. Most of the people ignored her, either too focused on the poker or their own misery to acknowledge someone else. The child was still crying, but she didn’t look at him as she passed. As she approached the gate, she heard two soldiers talking. 
“I hate this part,” one said. 
“I’m kind of getting used to it,” the other said. 
“That doesn’t sound like a good thing, man.” 
“Maybe not,” he said with a shrug, “but at least I’m able to sleep at night.” 
Octavia frowned and kept walking before she caught their attention. If the Reclamation wasn’t popular with the soldiers, why didn’t they tell their officers to fuck themselves? Octavia’s frown deepened when she realized Vinyl’s crude manners had rubbed off on her. She thought of the soldiers that came for her. 
They hadn’t been Hunters, she would have recognized their sleek armor. It had been normal soldiers, like the ones guarding her now. Maybe, hidden behind those blank faceplates, the soldiers had been ridden with guilt as they dragged her screaming down the hallway. 
She didn’t know much about the military outside of a few documentaries and terrible blockbusters that had been heralded as the greatest movies ever. She did know, however, that the soldiers she saw now were just grunts. Once they had been in the military long enough, and displayed the certain qualifications, they could be nominated to receive the specialized augments of a certain branch. So far, only Hunters had been seen. Considering their namesake and their mission, Octavia shouldn’t have been too surprised that the other two types, the stalwart Bruisers or the clever Magi, weren’t used too often in the Reclamation. Octavia wondered if the Reclamation was popular amongst the specialized soldiers, or if they shared the reservations of the grunts. Maybe General Rainbow Dash only relied on Hunters because she was one herself. 
Octavia yawned and sent a slight throb through her head. Looking at the windows up above, she figured it was getting close to dinner. She desperately wished to be gone.
A sudden thought slammed into her. What happened to Vinyl? The DJ was supposed to make sure Octavia wasn’t captured, but here she was, a guest to the Solar Empire in the finest warehouse in town. Vinyl had failed, and who knew how Bass Leader would react. Thoughts of Vinyl lying face down in an alley riddled with bullets, or being thrown off a bridge, or beaten to a pulp, all flashed before her. Octavia collapsed onto the nearest bed and found she had a few tears left. She willingly surrendered them to the concrete floor. Someone had moved to comfort the child, but no one came to her. She didn’t care. 

> Part 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Vinyl hated to admit it, but she felt good. She hadn’t been off of the operating table for ten minutes before Bass Leader came in, listened to the surgeons say that the operations were a success, and thrown her to the wolves. Men in suits had come at her, their augments flaring and looking like someone had pissed in their cereal. Vinyl had been in a few fights before, but those had been one-on-one and she had knocked back a few bottles of beer beforehand. She was not a seasoned fighter, nor did she know any particular style. The augments helped, turning a glancing blow into a broken bone. The fight was over before she knew it. Her body was covered in sweat and her hair was sticking to her face, but Vinyl was the only one standing and it felt great. 
Bass Leader stepped forward, bringing his gigantic hands together in a slow clap. “Money well spent, wouldn’t you agree?” 
Vinyl nodded vigorously, her blue hair sending beads of sweat flying. “What did you do to me?” Vinyl looked at her arms. Before, she couldn’t see the grid of machinery under her skin because she had so few augments. Now her entire arms blazed with a network of purple lights. The lights could be turned off, but seeing just how much more machinery crawled inside her, Vinyl felt a spike of panic. “What did you do to me?!” 
Bass Leader made a show of looking at the lackeys on the ground. “I would say I found your purpose.” 
“No you didn’t! You pumped me full of augs that… you turned me into some sort of fucking monster!” 
“No I didn’t. I gave you the augments, yes, but they were only so effective because they built upon the framework you already possessed. You agreed that they made you feel good and you were smiling the whole time.” 
“No,” Vinyl said. “Don’t try to spin this around.” 
Bass Leader laughed and spread his arms wide. “I don’t have to. You were besieged by my men and self-defense was expected. But you didn’t stop there, Ms. Scratch. You gave in to your bloodlust. You wanted more, even though you were in no threat. So what did you do?” Bass Leader paused as if expecting a response, but Vinyl stared blankly. “You mounted one of my men and cracked his skull open. I can see the horror and incredulity in your eyes, Ms. Scratch. The proof is at your feet.” 
Vinyl didn’t look down. One corner of Bass Leader’s lips curled up. “Don’t worry about him, though. Boys like these are a dime a dozen around here. Now, to business.” Bass Leader put his arm around Vinyl’s shoulder and ushered her out of the room. She fought the temptation to look back. 
“You might have guessed some of your new toys by now. Enhanced strength and stamina are some of the most basic things I give to my employees. Of course, yours is a little better. You also have a sub-dermal weave, but only in your torso for now. You can have the rest later. You also have a new set of eyes, so you don’t have to wear those goggles anymore.” 
“Wait, what? New eyes?” Vinyl had been listening with growing dread, but the news about her eyes stuck out. 
“Yes. Now you can see in different spectrums without other equipment. There is also one new feature that you have yet to try. You had many opportunities in your fight, but you preferred using your fists. Try it now,” he commanded and waved toward a door. 
Vinyl raised an eyebrow and had no idea what to do. She started forward, but Bass Leader tightened his grip. “What, you want me to wave my hands at it?” 
“In a sliding motion.” Feeling ridiculous, Vinyl complied. 
When the door opened, she said, “That’s cool.” 
“Indeed it is. You now have the powers of the Empire’s Magi. You can remotely hack open most doors and computers without a glance and you can even shut down another person’s augments. Of course, that trick won’t work on some people so don’t grow too reliant on it.” 
Vinyl was silent. She didn’t want Bass Leader to know that she thought the augments were badass. Instead, she asked a question that had been gnawing at her. “Why are you doing this?” 
Bass Leader stared at her like she was something unpleasant on the bottom of his shoe. Once she was uncomfortable, he said, “Because you lost my daughter and I want you to get her back. Now follow me. There’s something you need to see.” He vanished through the door Vinyl had just opened, leaving her no choice but to follow. 
“It should come as no surprise that I keep track of my enemy’s movements,” Bass Leader said as he led Vinyl down a featureless hallway. “While you were becoming acclimated to your new abilities, we were presented an opportunity that we cannot possibly ignore, even though you are nowhere near complete. Octavia will be moved later today, and that is when we will take her back.” 
“I’m only one person,” Vinyl said. 
Bass Leader’s face was unreadable. “Indeed,” he said. They reached another door, which he opened and ushered her through. 
She was presented to an army. 
“What the fuck,” Vinyl muttered as she stood on a raised platform above a large crowd of people, all of them wearing bulletproof vests and carrying some sort of firearm. There were men and women of all shapes and sizes. Vinyl wouldn’t be surprised to see the entire CyberLink staff down there somewhere. Had Bass Leader forced everyone to be turned into killers? No, that would be too expensive and would lead a trail to any prying eyes. Besides, there wouldn’t be a point to turning everyone into what she had become. No one down there had pissed Bass Leader off as much as she had. No one else deserved to be as twisted as she was. 
“I normally don’t do this,” Bass Leader said as he stood alongside Vinyl, “but I do think that this will be worth it.” He put his giant hands on the guardrail and leaned forward, not looking at her. “They will go up the interstate, where you will be waiting. When you can, give the order to attack. Heavy teams will get rid of their armor while everyone else will be a distraction. Your team will dive into the fray, get Octavia, and come back here. Any questions?” 
Vinyl had one, but she would never say it. Do you honestly think I’m going to come back?
Bass Leader seemed to read her mind. “In case you have any thoughts of running, I would reconsider. I will be monitoring your progress here. If you try to flee, I will detonate the charges that are now in your brain.” Vinyl blanched and Bass Leader smiled. “The armory is just over there. Take whatever you need and get a haircut.” Vinyl swallowed the lump in her throat, nodded, and descended the stairs into the makeshift army. 

Octavia’s knees shook under Rainbow Dash’s gaze. Quick, nervous glances at the people around her let Octavia know she wasn’t the only one affected by the general’s presence. Even the usual hecklers were quiet. Questions filled Octavia’s head, but as usual there were no answers. She couldn’t ask Rainbow Dash why the general had decided to grace them with her presence.  
The general stood on the catwalk and was staring down at the amount of people she had caught. The Hunters had lived up to their names. The amount of new people found had been staggering since Octavia had been caught. Where there really that many people who didn’t have augs? The number baffled her. 
After surveying the crowd and striking terror into all of their hearts with her presence, Rainbow Dash leaned over and said something to one of the soldiers. He nodded and stepped forth, assault rifle in clear view. “Alright, we’re moving. When those doors open, you will proceed to the transports. Any deviations will receive a warning; runners will not get far.” 
Octavia found it to be fairly anti-climatic. She expected Rainbow Dash to stand up, chest thrust forward, and proclaim the greatness of the Solar Empire. Maybe she could’ve said that the Reclamation was necessary. That humanity would live and scratch by for another day thanks to Celestia’s guidance. Instead, they got a few sentences from a masked soldier while the general sat back and scowled at everyone. 
The fact that they expected runners did get a bitter laugh out of Octavia. When the doors opened and the prisoners were hit with the blinding sun, she had to ask where they would go. It was just easier to cooperate. 

Away from prying eyes, Applejack listened to the radio chatter. They were moving out. She had been to the place where Dash would take her prisoners, a gigantic ship parked in the middle of nowhere, and had been planning her move ever since. A sense of betrayal was still lodged in her heart and refused to budge. She tried to ignore it as she walked to her armor. It was time to go to work. 

When Bass Leader had sent his pseudo army off on their likely suicide mission, he sent a cowed and fearful Vinyl Scratch with them. However, as distance grew between Vinyl and the city, she could feel her ire rising. Bass Leader would pay, she decided as she rode in a cramped SUV to their ambush point. But priorities dictated that Vinyl get Octavia back first, so she decided to play along, despite the fact that she could destroy the three men she was cramped with at any moment. 
Either they knew Vinyl’s powers were greater than theirs, or the men were just nervous about getting into a full on conflict with the Solar Empire. Vinyl wondered what, exactly, these men did for Bass Leader. 
The fat one with a shaved head, whom she dubbed “Fatty,” was religiously cleaning a gaudy pistol in the seat next to hers. He certainly wasn’t going to win any marathons unless the prize was a cheeseburger swimming in grease, so how was he going to contribute to a snatch team? Maybe his augs made up for it. Maybe he was meant as a shield. 
In the passenger seat was a lean, baby faced man that earned the nickname “Grub.” It wasn’t because he was overtly pale or made a habit of eating out of trash bags (that Vinyl knew of), but just because Vinyl couldn’t think of anything better. His head went up and down rhythmically and Vinyl heard him wringing his hands. He was also chanting something, and when Vinyl tried to hear what Grub was saying, it sounded like, “This is so bucked up.” 
“Hey,” Vinyl said, making Grub jump. “What’re you saying?” 
“I ain’t sayin’ anything.” The tone he used was overly defensive and Vinyl grinned. 
“Really? Cuz it sounds like you’re saying this is all ‘bucked up.’” 
“So what if I am?” Grub squealed. Vinyl considered re-writing his nickname to Bucky, but figured that it didn’t matter. It didn’t stop her from laughing at the man. 
“This is rich,” she said. “Bass Leader’s sending us out with a kid who can’t even swear! Just say it’s fucked up. I won’t tell your mommy that her son’s got a potty mouth.” 
“Quiet down back there,” said the driver, a man Vinyl called “Blondie,” for obvious reasons. He hadn’t said a word until then and Vinyl was almost disappointed at how normal he sounded. 
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting your inner monologue?” Vinyl asked. Monologue. Now that was a word she never thought she’d use. Late night conversations with Octavia about literature must’ve taught her some stuff. Blondie gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. That could mean that Vinyl was right on the money with her guess. 
“Save it for the Empire, girly,” Fatty said in a tired slur. 
Vinyl felt the verbal jabs crawling up her throat but decided to grind her teeth instead. There were better things to do than antagonize the people that would be keeping the Empire off of her. She suddenly missed her goggles, which were now gone forever. As she looked out the window, strange, magenta eyes stared back. Her hair was shorter too and she wondered if Octavia would recognize her. 
That’s bullshit, she thought and shook her head. Of course Tavi will know it’s me, even though I might look a little… different. Vinyl clenched her fist, looking at the faint lights still pulsing under her skin. She swallowed, mind flicking briefly to Bass Leader’s threats of explosives laced around her brain. One problem at a time.

Vinyl didn’t know what she expected from this whole debacle, but lying underneath camouflage webbing on the side of an abandoned highway came as a surprise. At least Grub had the decency to be quiet, but his mutterings were replaced by Fatty’s heavy breathing. He had barely made it down the hill and the plan called for them to run back up. Fatty was a dead man.  
Blondie was quiet and tense as ever. Vinyl sighed and looked at the road again. 
A random thought hit her. What if they were taking a different route? All of this planning from Bass Leader would go to waste and they would all look like idiots. Octavia would be lost, but the idea that Bass Leader was fallible gave Vinyl a reason to chuckle. The sudden noise made Grub jump and she wondered if the snatch crew was composed of people Bass Leader was too lazy to kill himself. 
Before she could poke fun at the jumpy man, the ground started shaking. Vinyl tensed and held her rifle tightly. Just completing the turn and coming towards them was the first APC in the column. Vinyl held her breath, trying to prepare herself for the imminent explosions. A few more APCs passed by, then one of the large, armored transports went by. Vinyl was about to order the attack when, against all odds, the convoy stopped on its own. 
“What’s going on?” she asked. 
Blondie shuffled as much as he dared. “Looks like a Bruiser is standing in the road. Rainbow Dash is approaching them.” A moment passed and Blondie said in a surprised whisper, “I think that’s General Applejack.” 
Fatty shifted. “That so. Looks like we can take out two birds with one stone.” 
“That sounds great, but how’re we supposed to know which one of these things Octavia is on?”
“Sources say it’s the third one, but we’re freeing as many as we can to cover our escape,” Grub supplied in his annoying, breathless tone. 
Vinyl shrugged as well as she could. The generals were still talking about who-knows-what and the third transport was just sitting there. No one was looking in their direction. “What if we go now?” she asked. “Sneak into the third transport, eliminate whoever’s in there, grab the girl and spring the trap while we’re in there? Nothing’s gonna break that thing, so we’ll be safe. Once the explosions die down, we get out of here and spring open as many transports as we can.” 
“That sounds like a good way to get us killed,” Blondie said. 
Vinyl counted on it. “Yeah? And I’m the one in charge, so come on,” she said and slipped out of the camouflage. 

When the convoy had sped around the corner and was met by a lone figure standing in the road, Dash had no choice but to stop, mostly because she was confused. The armor in the road was a set that she had seen countless times before and, unless she was mistaken, that armor should be in orbit around Mars and not on some desolate highway. Dash ordered the column to stop and climbed out of the APC. 
The sun shone brightly onto the highway, but at least there was a cool breeze that Dash welcomed after being stuck in the APC. She decided to leave her helmet off and had to raise a hand to her eyes as she walked towards Applejack, who hadn’t moved an inch. 
“AJ?” Dash asked. “What’re you doing here?” 
“How’d you do it, Rainbow?” Applejack’s voice was warped by her helmet’s speakers, but Dash could tell that her friend wasn’t happy. 
“What are you talking about?” Dash’s HUD gave her a warning. “AJ, why are you listed as an enemy?” 
“Twi showed me the orders ya got. Bargin’ in, taking folks from their homes, their families. How could you, Dash? Did you ever once stop and ask yourself if you’re doing something wrong?” 
“What did you do, Applejack?” The helmet smoothly formed around Dash’s head, courtesy of her Hunter suit. She didn’t want to fight Applejack, but she wasn’t about to lower her guard in the presence of a threat. 
“Look at you,” Applejack smirked. “Believin’ whatever the Empire wants you to. You know me, Dash. Think of everything we’ve been through together. Do you think I’m an enemy?” 
Dash lowered her head. “Will you shut up and tell me what you did?” 
Applejack sighed. “I came back from Mars, where Celestia wanted me to stay. I learned something I shouldn’t have and nearly died in Camelot because of it. Now I’m here to stop all this bullshit you’ve stirred up down here.” 
So that was it, then. Applejack was going to ruin all of Dash’s work in a suicidal attempt to topple the Solar Empire. Dash did think about the times AJ had been there for her, dragging her out of situations where she would have surely died. On the other hand, was AJ doing the right thing? Pinkie died upholding the Empire’s ideals, so that certainly meant that the Empire had some sort of merit. 
“And what gives you the right to question Celestia?” Dash asked through clenched teeth. 
“The right?” Applejack shook her head. “The right?! Common sense gives me the right! Don’t you have any regrets about all this? Have you never spent a sleepless night second guessing yourself? All of this Reclamation bullshit is only causin trouble, Dash. You know it, and don’t you dare use Pinkie as a shield.” 
Dash felt a white-hot spike go through her heart. “Don’t even think of bringing Pinkie into this!” she yelled. Were her troops lined up behind her, waiting to turn Applejack into dust? 
“Why not? Don’t ya’ll remember what ya said after her funeral? Because I do! You said you wanted to turn this Empire into something Pinkie would’ve been proud of. Think about it, Dash. Would Pinkie be proud of a tyrant causing misery? Would Pinkie be proud of a machine that snatched children in the night?” 
The words hurt, each one grabbing that metal spike and twisting it. Dash was glad to have her helmet on. She felt tears forming and, for some reason, didn’t want Applejack to know. Her friend showed no signs of letting up, so Dash asked, despite her voice cracking, “Where’s Twi?”  
Applejack visibly winced. “That doesn’t matter.” 
“So you’re all alone.” 
“I don’t have to be,” Applejack drawled. 
Afterwards, Dash would be eternally grateful that the rockets rained on them at that moment. She had been terribly angry and was about to attack Applejack. When the first rockets launched, it just gave her a more constructive means of venting. 

Sneaking in? Easy. 
Eliminating the guards? Easy. 
Finding Octavia? Easy. She had ran through the crowds and nearly toppled Vinyl over. 
“Vinyl, what happened to you?” Octavia asked, leaning back from their hug to get a better look. 
Vinyl didn’t let her go and shrugged. “Long story short, your father is a terrible host.” 
Octavia didn’t smile at the bad joke. Vinyl had expected her to wither away to a stick thin zombie in her time with the Solar Empire. Instead, Octavia looked exactly the same. A little dirty and smelly, sure, but she wouldn’t look out of place in Vinyl’s apartment. In a way, the DJ was jealous. 
Fatty made a hacking sound, which might have been his idea of a subtle cough. Right, the explosives. Vinyl pulled up her HUD, all of the icons swarming her vision and nicely framing Octavia’s face. She sent the order and the earth turned upside down. Octavia held her close, maybe out of fright at the sounds coming from outside, but Vinyl wasn’t going to complain. “I don’t know what’s going to be waiting for us out there,” she whispered, “but when we go, there is a hill directly to the right. We’re gonna run up it. There’s a car on the other side. Are you ready?” 
Octavia gave a small nod that Vinyl felt rather than saw. She squeezed Octavia a little harder. “Just stay next to me and you’ll be fine, okay? After this, it’ll just be you and me.” Vinyl didn’t have the heart to tell Octavia about the charges lacing her brain, or the giant gamble she was about to take. One thing at a time. Vinyl gave Octavia a small peck on the cheek and broke away. 
“Wait,” Octavia said. “What about my father?” 
Vinyl tried to give Octavia a reassuring smile. “Just leave that to me, Tavi. Anyway, sounds like the rockets are done. No time like the present, eh?” She turned to the three lackeys and said, “We’re outta here!” They all nodded and took up positions by the door. Behind them, the crowd got to their feet, eager for a chance at freedom. Octavia squeezed Vinyl’s hand, making the DJ smile. Not one to wait, Vinyl reached out with her free hand, seizing control of the door’s gears, and forced it open. 
There were fires, there were troops, and there was screaming. Vinyl had no choice but to block it out. She felt the hand holding hers and drew her pistol. Her feet were in motion before her boots touched the ground. There was no point in trying to fight, just run. Run, run, run. A bullet whizzed by her head. Keep running. 
A soldier was lining up a shot on her. Raise the pistol, fire, watch him fall. Run. Vinyl thought she heard a gasp from behind but couldn’t be sure. She squeezed the hand and it maintained its iron grip. 
They were on the hill now. Someone yelled about Hunters, but Vinyl didn’t want to turn around to look. More bullets kicked up the dirt around her. She pumped her legs as fast as they would go. Even with the augs, her lungs and legs were starting to burn. Wasn’t she supposed to open up more transports? Too late for that. Just keep your head down and run. The crest of the hill was so close! She squeezed the hand and hoped it was just her imagination that it was weaker. 
Vinyl threw herself over the hill and saw the beautiful SUV waiting for them. She turned around, unable to keep the smile off her face. “We did it, Tavi!” she yelled, unable to keep the joy out of her voice. 
“That’s good, Scratch,” Octavia slurred. “I’m so glad.” 
They made it to the SUV and Vinyl turned to look at Octavia. “Oh shit,” she said. 
Octavia was doubled over, holding her free hand against her chest. Blood seeped through her fingers and was rapidly staining her shirt. “I don’t feel so good,” she said and fell to her knees. 
“Whoa now, don’t even think of saying stuff like that. You’ll be fine, Tavi. You’re tougher than that. I mean, you ate my cooking.” Vinyl threw open the passenger side door and collected Octavia in her arms. 
She smiled, lips pale and flecked with blood. Vinyl didn’t take her eyes off of her as she ran around the front and slid into the driver’s seat. “I’m glad I got to see you again, Vinyl,” Octavia slurred. 
Vinyl punched the ignition and soon they were flying down the path. “Don’t say that, Tavi. You’re gonna make it.” She tried to keep the worry out of her voice. It didn’t help that the explosives were constantly at the back of her mind. Literally. “I’m gonna take you to a clinic and they’ll fix you up, good as new.” 
Octavia managed a chuckle. “And then what, Vinyl?” 
Vinyl tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Then… then I don’t know. We’re definitely moving, though. The city’s a little too cramped now that I’ve been out here to see trees. How about we settle down and become farmers, eh?” Vinyl looked at Octavia and felt a growing sense of alarm when she saw that the girl had closed her eyes. 
“I can’t see you doing farm work, Scratch.” 
“Hey, maybe I’m a natural at it. I never did get the chance at it. But I think you know how good I am at plowing.” 
Octavia’s smile grew at the dirty joke. “Don’t flatter yourself. You were at my mercy the entire night.” 
“So I guess I gotta make that up to you, huh?” Vinyl asked. She saw the city in the distance and pressed the gas for all she was worth. The trees, the road, and the sky all faded away into a blur. All she was aware of was Octavia and the city, just looming out of reach. 
“That’s right, Scratch. You owe me big time,” Octavia slurred. She opened her eyes and looked at Vinyl. “Vinyl, I never told you how great you are.” 
“Tell me later,” Vinyl said, wiping away the tears that were already forming. “Don’t you fucking talk like that now.” 
“You could’ve been terrible to me, Scratch. I saw how much of a nuisance I was, at the beginning. You didn’t want me there, I was scared out of my wits. You could’ve just let me stew in a corner while you resented me. But you didn’t. You took care of me, even bought me presents. My father didn’t do half the things you did, I think. Just threw me into a house. It wasn’t much different, being in your apartment, but at least I had you.” Octavia reached up and wiped Vinyl’s tears. Her movements were stiff and Vinyl saw the pained expression creep across Octavia’s face. “I had you, Vinyl, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” 
Vinyl heard Octavia sit up, heard the sharp intake of breath come from her. Vinyl was trying her hardest not to break down, especially not at the breakneck speeds they were doing. The city was so close. 
Octavia’s lips brushed against her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered before sliding back. Vinyl risked a glance and saw Octavia had closed her eyes. She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead. Vinyl tried to get the SUV to go faster. The city was right there! 
Vinyl wished she wasn’t driving then. She wanted to close her eyes and let the waterworks come. But she had to drive because Octavia wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead and she needed help. 
They finally entered the city. 

Octavia hadn’t died in the SUV. She barely registered Vinyl’s cries or the swift turns or anything that happened in the city. At one point she did pass out, because she couldn’t remember leaving the car. She remembered thinking that that was the end for her. She had played her part, now it was time for the curtains to come down and leave her shrouded in the dark while the audience applauded her short, but hopefully memorable, performance. 
She was surprised when she opened her eyes for the first time. Lights danced at the edge of her vision, but she otherwise felt fine. Was this the afterlife? If it was, it was fairly anticlimactic. The light spilled in from a window in the door, and the room looked like it was from a hospital. She heard a faint rustling sound next to her, but when she turned, she couldn’t see what it was. “Vinyl?” she asked. Her voice was raspy and she was suddenly aware of how thirsty she was. 
The sound grew louder and suddenly Vinyl’s face was before her. Her eyes were puffy from crying and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Mountains of anxiety slid off her shoulders when she saw Octavia was awake. Without a word, Vinyl wrapped her arms around Octavia and brought their lips together. Octavia relished the contact. She had never realized how sweet Vinyl tasted. 
When the kiss broke, Octavia looked dumbly at Vinyl. “How?” she asked. 
The DJ smiled. “Like I wouldn’t move planets for you.” 
Octavia rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the blush from forming. Vinyl chuckled and grabbed Octavia’s hand from under the thin blanket. When she pulled it out, Octavia saw that her fingers, intermixed with Vinyl’s shone a brilliant blue. Vinyl had gotten her augmented. 
Octavia licked her lips and looked Vinyl in the eye. “So, what happens now?” 
“First, you get your rest,” Vinyl said and yawned. “Me too. After that, well, I wasn’t lying about moving from the city.” 
“Sounds good to me,” Octavia said, falling back onto the thin pillow. Vinyl reclined in a chair next to the bed and closed her eyes. Octavia bit her lip and, after a moment said, “Am I plugged into any machines here?” 
“Nope,” came the reply. 
“Then would you like to join me on the bed?” 
Octavia could practically hear Vinyl’s grin as she climbed out of the chair and crawled next to her. They wrapped their arms around each other and smiled. There was still the problem of Bass Leader and the Solar Empire looming above the couple, but that was for another day. For now, the two were content to happily drift off together. 

Rainbow Dash stormed through the halls of Camelot, shoulders low and holster unbuttoned. She had thought long and hard about everything since Applejack had shown up. Celestia had turned Rainbow Dash into a puppet, a child snatching, mass murdering puppet. The realization hadn’t come easily, but when it did, it had filled her with rage. She was going to join Applejack, if only so that her friend didn’t die alone. But Applejack had done her a huge favor by opening Dash’s eyes to what had happened. The least she could do is repay Applejack. 
Without knocking, Dash stormed into Twilight’s office. Twilight jumped in her seat. “Dash? What are you doing here?” 
“We need to talk, Twilight,” Dash said
Twilight still looked surprised, probably because Dash wasn’t saluting or acting like a complete idiot this time. She nodded and said, “Of course. What about?” 
“About Applejack.” The name made Twilight shrink in her chair. “I ran into her, Twi. She opened my eyes to what should’ve been obvious to us since the beginning. Celestia’s lost it and has twisted us. I mean, look at what we’ve done for her, Twi! All of this? This isn’t us. We should’ve known that this was wrong but we went along with it anyway, all in her name.” Dash stopped to see if her words were having any effect. 
Twilight opened her mouth, stopped, closed it, and opened it again. “I know that it doesn’t seem right, but—”
“But nothing, Twilight! Celestia has shown how she can’t be trusted to lead anymore! She has to go down!” Dash walked around Twilight’s desk and put her hands on Twilight’s chair. “You know I’m right. You were hesitant to give me the orders in the beginning. Why are you ignoring the facts when they’re right in front of you!?” 
Twilight sniffled once and shook her head. Dash waited patiently, although she was certain that she was scowling. “Oh, Dash,” Twilight said, “what have we done?” 
“Terrible things, but now we have a chance to fix them.” Dash offered Twilight a hand. “So what do you say? You want to leave this place?” 
Twilight looked around her office once before looking back at Dash. “Yeah. Lead the way,” she said and took Dash’s hand. 
Rainbow smiled, pulled Twilight to her feet and said, “With pleasure.” 
Before they left, the two agreed that the rebellion needed to start with a bang. Sure, Applejack getting shot at could be seen as the beginning, and in a way it was. But it was a solitary affair. It didn’t have the oomph that got people riled up, but Dash had an idea of what would. 
The two paid a special visit before leaving Camelot for good. As they flew away, the station’s self-destruct sequence rapidly ticked towards zero. It was nighttime down below, but the light from the second sun reached down through the layers of oppression and touched upon the freshly sown seeds of rebellion.  

> Author's Note 3 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

So here we are at the end of the fic and I have no idea what to say. I will say that I'm writing this in this format so that I don't pad the final chapter with words that have no bearing on the fic. 

I started this a while back, obviously, and I figure I might as well give some thanks and such for the things that influenced me. To begin with, none of this would have happened without this right here: 

That's where I got the name Bass Leader and, as I drove through the boring Ohio countryside listening to that mix, thought about Vinyl and Tavi together. The first thoughts I had were of Vinyl dragging Tavi across some skyline while soldiers attacked them. One thing led to another and I started writing this piece up. 

The fic itself has gone through many changes that you all would never have known about if I wasn't writing this. The biggest example is part of the ending. It was originally going to be about a raid on the apartment, Vinyl shooting some soldiers, and a high speed chase through the city to where Bass Leader was. Bass Leader would then take Tavi into a helicopter and order Vinyl to be executed. Vinyl would take out her executioner and Bass Leader's helicopter would be taken out of the air by a missile because he was in a no fly zone. Vinyl would then haul Tavi out of the wreckage and get her augmented. 

Yeah, you don't have to point out the glaring holes in that plan. I'm glad I changed it too. 

Speaking of this ending, it came out a lot less action oriented than I wanted it to be. That's because I suck at action scenes. Hopefully I can fix it, but that's what fanfics are to me. They're just practice. 

Now if you're reading this, you can probably see how the ending is open for a sequel. When will that come around? Well, if you're reading this at a much later date, the sequel could be started already! As of the time I'm typing this, however, I don't even know what the title will be! That kind of sucks, I know, and I'm not even sure if I'll get around to writing it. School can be a real drain, as you might be aware. 

As for thanks and such, this is going to be fricking short. I have no pre-readers to thank, so blame me entirely for any and all fuck-ups found in the fic. I would like to extend my sincerest thanks to anyone who favorited this story and stuck with it to the end. You all made me feel like I wasn't just talking to myself and it's always nice to see my work be noticed. 

I guess that's it. It might be a while before I visit this crazy little world I created, but I look forward to seeing you all in the sequel, if and when it's written. Peace.