> Spectrum of Lightning
>  by Seriff Pilcrow
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: The Whip-Cracking Crusader
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daring Do dipped her head low—whip in one hoof, custom sharpened trowel in the other. Shadows flickered past her quarters, her breath held as she hid from an earth pony mercenary hungry for the bounty on her head.

“Just another ordinary workday.”

Not that she had planned this in her schedule. Just minutes before, she was recuperating on a large Abyssinian steamer making its way down the Turquoise Nile to the Valley of the Queens. If the notes she scribbled on Gallant True's map were correct, she would be one step closer to finding the Crystal Sphere of Khnum. Daring allowed a small smile to crease her lips. She could already hear the cheers from the Society of Equestrian Archeology congratulating her for such a historic find. Maybe they'd forgive her for all the temples and dig sites she'd inadvertently collapsed in the process of playing tomb raider and thwarting Ahuizotl.

But most of all, she could see her uncle among the crowd, tears of joy in his eyes.

Daring lay on her stomach behind her bed and retreated from the light shining through the window, just as a mercenary walked into view. His tall frame and his AK-793 "Avtomát Karabín" rifle cast a shadow into the room, made uneven by the design of his camouflage-pattern jacket. Damn assault rifles. Now she knew why Uncle Ad pined for his former bolt-action days.

Captain Iskinder and his crew were supposed to stop by one of the fishing villages for supplies, but Dr. Caballeron and his mercenaries boarded the ship and had other ideas. It was par for the course of an adventure: some other greedy bastard always had to try to seize the treasure at the end with violent force. Daring would have rolled her eyes if she hadn't already done so the past 317 times this happened. 

Daring licked her lips and tightened her grip around the trowel. Part of her mind wanted to take to the air and fly out the window. If Caballeron had brought his usual posse of unarmed, unobservant guards, like he did back when he teamed up with Ahuizotl to obtain the Ring of Destiny, she would probably just hightail it. But a quick look told Daring that Caballeron had changed tactics. He'd saved enough money to buy more seasoned bounty hunters, many armed with rifles and machine guns. She couldn't leave the crew behind, though—they wouldn't stand a chance.

“They didn't dig this hole… I did,” Daring muttered to herself. “Well, at least I brought the trowel.”

“Come out, come out, my little Do Dare…” the mercenary cooed. “Give yourself up now, and maybe Boss'll take good care of you. I promise, he ain't like Volt. You still remember her, right? Heh-heh, don't worry—I miss her, too.”

Daring's eyes widened. These weren't just bounty hunters from the Zebrican underworld hired solely to hunt her down in Abyssinia. They—or at least this particular merc—were veterans, ex-special forces experienced not just with fighting hostile forces, but also with fighting her. She should know. That merc's voice didn't have any trace of a Zebrican accent.

“Focus, Daring—now is not the time,” she scolded.

Not when the mercenary had just turned his head to see Daring's prone form behind the bed.

“Ah, there you are!”

Before he could raise his rifle, a crack reverberated inside the cabin. The rifle slipped from his hooves and clattered to the floor. Dropping the whip, Daring got up and charged into him shoulder first. Their bodies smashed a nearby wooden desk into splinters. The earth pony fell onto his back, and then Daring threw two punches into his head. He tried to reach for his combat knife, but Daring was quicker to her trowel and sank its blade into his chest. Bloodstains spread on his clothes as he writhed, then fell motionless on the debris.

Daring's ears twitched at the sound of beating wings coming from down the hall. She picked up the stallion's AK, crouched behind her bed, and aimed down the hall through the window of her cabin.

Two pegasus mares, dressed in the same camouflage-patterned jacket, flew down the hall and spotted their fallen colleague.

“Contact! Con—” A burst from Daring's rifle interrupted the first pegasus. She grunted as her body tumbled across the floor, her rifle flying from her hooves. The other pegasus mercenary dove for cover behind a wall, narrowly missing another burst of bullets.

“Get me some damn backup!!”

Daring ducked her head. The surviving mercenary returned fire with a submachine gun. Daring dragged the stallion's body toward cover and pulled her trowel out, suppressing the urge to cough as bullet impacts kicked dust into her face.

The firing stopped. Daring holstered her whip and trowel. She assumed a bipedal stance and crept towards the door, her rifle aimed at the mercenary's hiding place.

Her eyes caught the mercenary's snout peeking out the window.

“You missed a spot.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The AK breathed out a wisp of smoke. There was a thud.

Daring raced out the door and into the hall, her rifle trained on where she had last seen her attacker. When she saw the perforated pony skull, she lowered her gun and eased her tensed muscles, sucking in a breath.

Somepony tackled her from behind.

The rifle flew from Daring's hooves. Her hoof stretching for it even as she hit the floor.

Her chin smashed against the wooden floor, her teeth piercing her tongue. The taste of iron flooded her mouth as she struggled against the mercenary on top of her.

“I got her!” a stallion's voice said amid several grunts. “Take the shot!”

She tried to turn her head to look at him, but a punch to her cheek sent her face back to the floor.

“Hold her still!” said a mare's voice behind the stallion.

Daring grunted as she pawed the floor near the rifle. Her breathing quickened when the tip of her hoof touched its pistol grip. Just a little further…

A pair of green hooves walked into view from the side and kicked the rifle away.

“Damn it!”

Daring's mind raced. As she continued to struggle against the stallion behind her back, she saw the shadows of the stallion's marefriend and the shotgun she wielded in front of her. Why hadn't she taken the shot yet?

“What are you waiting for?! Shoot her already!” the stallion shouted, echoing Daring's thoughts.

“Do you think I'm getting paid extra if I hit you too?” the mare mercenary said. “Hell no!”

“Listen, I can't hold her down forever! You gotta—”

Daring elbowed the stallion in the face. He recoiled, clutching his snout. Before his colleague could take the shot, Daring dove towards the green mare's hind legs, using her wings for extra speed, and then knocked the mercenary off her hooves. Daring got up and unfurled her whip. In a split second, it curled into a lasso, yanked the green mare's shotgun from her hooves, and brought it to Daring's own.

The gunshot's boom echoed through the hall. Daring had painted the walls red. The green mare's body trembled and then collapsed.

Daring had barely pulled the pump of the shotgun back when the stallion grabbed its barrel with his front hooves. He twisted the gun upwards and slammed the buttstock into Daring's chest. A pained gasp escaped her mouth. Her grip loosened, then she fell to her knees.

“Enough of this!” shouted Daring.

Before the stallion could step back and take aim, Daring whipped her trowel from its holster, swinging her whole body as she cracked the blade against the shotgun. Small metal pieces flew as the trigger mechanism busted apart, the stallion's eyes widening. Daring danced backward, flourishing her weapon like a mythical blade of old.

“You're kidding, right?” the stallion asked with a small chuckle. He unsheathed a Bowie knife and pointed its blade at Daring's trowel. “You think you can kill me with that?”

“Tell that to the first guy,” said Daring. “Let's dance!”

The stallion slashed left. Daring dodged. Another slash, this time towards her stomach. She stumbled backward, glancing downwards to avoid the bodies on the floor. The stallion's blade shone in the corner of her vision, and she blocked his right arm with her left one before the blade could skewer her eye. The stallion gasped: he'd opened himself up for attack. In an instant, Daring delivered two quick stabs into the stallion's elbow. He gritted his teeth, his knife falling to the floor. Daring raised her trowel-wielding arm at the stallion's neck.

The world muted. Daring's vision shifted into blurred lights and fuzzy shapes. The hard wooden wall scraped against her face as she tried to refocus herself. Daring scowled as she tried to stand. He had a hell of a left hook.

Daring roared as the stallion's hooves yanked her shoulder and mane. She struggled as his hooves slammed her head to the wall, causing her vision to tremble. Her pith helmet dented, saving her from a deadly skull fracture. Sensing he was about to slam her head in a second time, Daring flapped her wings onto his face. They weren't strong enough to injure him, but it did make him flinch.

Opportunity knocked. Daring Do answered.

She spun around and slashed her trowel across the stallion's face. He stumbled backward and covered his mouth with his hooves, muffling his scream. Daring followed up with a left hook to his temple, a knee strike to his solar plexus, and finally, a smash to the back of his skull with the handle of her trowel. The stallion staggered, his eyes glossed over in a daze.

Taking full control of the situation, Daring grabbed him by the shoulders as she took to the air, roaring loudly, and then slammed his body to the wall. The plaster cracked. A wall lamp shattered. Daring smashed him into the wall once more. The crack became a hole, then the stallion's body slumped to the floor.

“See how you like it, asshole!”

Heavy breaths escaped Daring's mouth as she glanced around, her ears perked. Nothing: no hoofsteps, no wing beats, silent as death.

She was out of the woods for now.

Daring's body shivered as the adrenaline left her system. Her legs trembled from exertion, and her wings hung from her body. Bits of paint were strewn across the floor, along with the bodies of four unlucky ponies. A few seconds passed as Daring sat on the floor and breathed out a sigh, followed by a relieved, if strained, laugh.

“Another day, another…well…this isn't quite a dungeon, I guess. Damn it.”

Daring stood up, straightened her shirt, and took a map of the riverboat out of the shirt pocket. “Right, time to save the crew,” she said, scanning the map for the shortest way to the bridge. R&R would have to wait. “Not too far off. I can take the fire escape at the ster—”

A click.

Daring's eyes widened. She turned to the second mercenary she had downed. Blood poured from her mouth as she wore a weak, yet sadistic grin and let a cylindrical object roll from her body. Daring gasped at its missing spoon and pin. 

Her world turned upside down.

The explosion blasted Daring against the ceiling and carved a hole on the wooden floor. Splinters shredded her clothes. Her limp body fell through the smoking hole and into the boiler room below, denting the steel grate floor. The hot steam suffocated Daring as she coughed and attempted to stand,  a familiar rush of pain coursed from her right wing.

Broken…again. It's always the same wing. Can't it be the other one for a change?

Just as Daring had gotten to her knees and was about to start looking for her map, the sound of cocking guns echoed in the boiler room. The smoke cleared to reveal two squads' worth of mercenaries, both inside the room and surrounding the hole where her cabin used to be.

Daring scanned the mercs aiming at her, groaned, and raised her front hooves above her head.

“Celestia damn it.”




> Chapter 2: Dusk to Dawn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Sparky! Heads up!”

A perky voice shook Spike from Daring Do and the Crystal Sphere of Khnum. Sitting on an easy chair, Spike looked up from his copy to see Twilight Sparkle jolt at the sound of her mother's perky voice. The alicorn flinched on the couch as Twilight Velvet tossed her a lighter, managing to catch it in the air with her magic just before it hit her temple. Twilight frowned as Velvet let out a snicker from the other side of the living room.

“Mom!” Twilight said. “Could you please not call me that?”

“What? ‘Sparky?’” Velvet said, her sleek and well-toned body leaning on a nearby bookshelf as she smirked at her daughter. “It's a nice nickname! Besides—” Velvet gestured a hoof at a yellow cat curling itself on top of the book Twilight had been reading “—North there seems to like it.”

Twilight sputtered wordlessly at the cat, then shooed him off the couch. “I'm not a filly anymore!”

Velvet recoiled, placing a hoof on her chest in “surprise.” “Oh, I'm sorry. Would you rather be called ‘Princess?’”

“I-it's not like that, Mom! I…I just—”

Velvet let out a laugh, walked to her daughter, and ruffled her mane. “I'm just screwing with you!” Velvet picked up the lighter and levitated it in front of her. “Here; cooked this up in my lab downstairs after your coronation. I wanna show you what this baby can do.”

Part of Spike wanted to get back to his book, but he kept his eyes focused on Velvet's lighter, which the mare flicked on with her magic. His eyes widened at the small, green flame dancing on the lighter's mouth.

“Like it?” Velvet said. “It's got more tricks up its sleeve. Spike, I'm gonna need your help for this one.”

Spike raised an eyebrow and set the book aside. “Um…sure, I guess.” 

One of Velvet's hooves gestured at the book by Twilight's side. “You too, Sparky. Do you trust me?”

A grimace formed on Twilight's face as she looked away from her mother. 

“The future of Equestria depends on it,” chirped Velvet. 

“No.”

Velvet deflated slightly. “Look, I promise, things are going to be just fine…”

A grumble emanated from her daughter's mouth. "Yeah, right."

”Look,  this won't be like that time with Inkwell.” Velvet's eyebrows were creased, and her voice had lost a bit of its perkiness. “Besides, I said  I was sorry! This is different, okay? Just...trust me for once.”

A cloud of magenta magic encased the book and levitated it towards Velvet, accompanied by a sigh.

“Thank you.” Velvet transferred the book to her own magic and suspended it a few inches over a coffee table.

The aura surrounding the lighter disappeared. It tumbled through the air and hit the book, setting it ablaze.

“Wha— Noooooooo!” Twilight shouted. Her hooves flailed at the burning book, trying to put the smokeless fire out, but it was too late. The book had burned to nothing in just a few seconds. Meanwhile, Velvet, who hadn't moved from her initial position all the while, snatched the lighter with her magic just before it hit the floor and closed the cap.

“H-how could you? That's one of the only books that survived my fight with Tirek! Why are you always like this—”

Spike gagged hard, the feeling of something stiff coming out of his throat causing him to fall to his knees. Mother and daughter turned their eyes to him, Twilight stepping towards him in concern. A moment later, she gaped as a green flame erupted out of her assistant's mouth in a loud belch to reveal an unscorched copy of Meadowbrook's Translated Corpus:  the same book she'd been reading earlier. Spike hacked and wheezed. He wasn't used to impromptu deliveries like this, certainly not when it involved packages this size. It was like Hearth's Warming Eve all over again.

“Neat, huh?” Velvet smiled, though Spike noted that it seemed more subdued than her previous beaming. She then faced away while the younger Twilight levitated her book back and examined it for any damage. “I mean, no need to apologize.”

Spike, having finished coughing and gagging, looked at Velvet curiously. “How did—”

“What—”  Velvet raised an eyebrow “—get your magical signature so the flame  would send the book to you?” Velvet said, plucking the thought from  Spike's brain. “I just asked Sunbutt. We're actually pretty tight, you  know?”

“Sunbutt...” Spike muttered. He then rubbed his chin with his claw. “What if I want to send something to you?”

“I  haven't thought that far ahead." Velvet punctuated her statement with an awkward chuckle. "I don't know if the lighter can receive letters  yet.”

Twilight set her book down and rolled her eyes. “Of course you haven't,” she muttered under her breath. “At least my book's still  fine,” 

“So, um,” Twilight spoke up as she glanced downwards, “does Dad know I'm here?”

Spike sensed that Twilight was struggling to stay tactful. Years of spending time with her allowed him to decode Twilight's body language. Meanwhile,  Velvet pointed to the stairs; Spike couldn't tell if she didn't get the hint or she decided not to act on it.

“I dunno. Why don't you ask him?”

Spike watched Twilight's frown turn into a smile as her father trotted down the stairs.

“Dad!”

“Hey! Is that my favorite little star I see?”

Twilight jumped from the sofa and flew to her father, almost knocking him onto his back as he caught her in his embrace. “What brings my little princess to Canterlot?”

“It's my books. Spike and I have to get some books from the Canterlot library to replace the ones that were destroyed in my fight with Tirek.”

“Oh, yes, that makes sense, ” Night Light said, chuckling to himself. “I mean, it's not like your new castle came with books when it sprang from the ground.” He paused, then put a hoof on his chin. “Wait, don't you have your own room in Canterlot castle?”

“What? You're not glad to see me?” Twilight said.

Night Light rolled his eyes before giving Twilight another hug. “Of course I'm glad to see you, you little bookworm.”

Spike smiled at the pair as Twilight giggled.

“So... are you coming with me and Spike?”

“Actually, I still have some errands to run with your mom. Isn't that right, Vel?” Night Light said while placing a hoof on Velvet's flank.

“Sure is,” Velvet replied, most definitely, positively, honestly not blushing in the slightest. “We have to drop by Inkwell's for some writing supplies, pay the cable bill, and then head to Starry Eyed's for some mirrors.”

“Well, not that I need mirrors now anyway,” Night Light said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hoof. “I can do just fine with my refracting telescope for the next few weeks.”

“Fine? Fine?” exclaimed Velvet “You can't even see the moon with that thing, even if you pointed it at Luna's backside.”

“It's not nice to poke fun at a stallion's equipment.” Night Light then turned to Spike and Twilight as he opened the door for Velvet. “Just sit tight, you two. We'll be back before you know it!”

“And if I need something from you,” Velvet said, jiggling the lighter with her magic, “you know what to expect!”

A churn tied Spike's stomach to knots. For once, he was silently wishing that Twilight had replaced him with a cellphone. 

Twilight waved goodbye to her parents as Night Light shut the door behind him. Spike heard Night Light explaining how he compensated for the size of his equipment just before the couple's voices faded into the distance.





Twilight Velvet and Night Light were not back before either Twilight Sparkle or Spike knew it.

After a few minutes of reading, Spike set his Daring Do book down. He had finished reading it a couple of weeks before, and the book, for some reason, had lost its charm on the second run. Perhaps “QP613” from the Daring Do forums had a point when he said the original trilogy was better.

Silence filled the living room, save for the wall clock and the muffled voices of pedestrians outside. Spike reclined on the easy chair, watching Twilight furrow her eyebrows at her book as if watching for anypony who wanted to snatch it from her again. Spike huffed. Celestia knew how many times he tried to tell Twilight to get one of Orange Industries' new tablet computers—all the books she could ever want, crammed into a slab only slightly bigger than a piece of paper. 

In retrospect, though, Twilight had a point when she kept rebutting his suggestion. If she'd left the tablet in the treehouse when Tirek blew it up, none of her books would have survived, as opposed to the less than a dozen survivors Twilight currently possessed.

After that train of thought passed, Spike's eyes gravitated towards Twilight. She glanced out the window—the same direction where her parents disappeared to—before returning to her book. Spike looked down and tapped his claws together. Sure, he knew the names of Twilight's parents. He knew what they looked like. He knew where they lived in Canterlot. He even knew of their two cats, the second of whom, Rose, purred and snuggled up beside him on the arm of his easy chair, much to his annoyance.

But really know them? Hardly. Spike mostly interacted with Twilight and Princess Celestia during his younger years, only seeing Twilight's parents whenever they came to visit or take her on the occasional holiday. Maybe now would be a good time to get some answers.

“So,” Spike said, trying to break the ice, “how's the book...'Sparky?’”

Twilight huffed and brought her book closer to her face with her magic.

“Okay, okay, touchy subject,” said Spike. “If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. It's just that, well—” Spike twiddled his thumbs and momentarily glanced at the floor “—your mom is certainly the…feisty type.”

“That's not even half of it,” Twilight moaned. “Do you know how many times I've had to tell Mom to act her age? Can you even believe it? The world's going mad, Spike, and that was even before Discord returned.”

“You seemed to get along just fine with her during Shining Armor and Princess Cadance's wedding—not to mention your coronation.”

Twilight waved him off with a hoof. “That was out in public. You think it would have been appropriate for all the guests in those events to see a family squabble?”

“No, I guess not.”

There was another pause. Spike took a moment to consider his next question.

“Is your mom also like that with Shining Armor?”

“Yes, but he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he sort of…likes it.” A small smile formed on Twilight's lips, which then developed into a snicker. “Except for the nickname. He really doesn't like it when Mom calls him ‘Shiny.’”

“And why is that?”

“I don't know. He won't tell me,” she said with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”

Spike looked downwards as he pondered on his next words. Considering the subject matter, Spike was doubtful he would get a satisfactory answer.

“It seems like you don't get along with your mom.” Twilight furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips. Spike recoiled slightly. Did he strike a nerve?

The dragon's tensed muscles relaxed when he saw Twilight put a hoof on her chest, close her eyes, and exhale. Cadance's breathing exercises: effective ninety percent of the time.

“Listen,” Twilight said, “it's been like this since before I can remember, and it does seem like I butt heads with her more often than Shining…” Twilight frowned slightly, lost in thought for a moment. “But I don't have doubt that she legitimately loves Shining and me equally. I guess it's…”

“She has a funny way of showing love?”

“Maybe, but it's the thought that counts... so why do I still feel bothered? I just…” Twilight sighed. “I don't know. I don't wanna talk about it.”

His hunch was right. It wasn't a satisfactory answer. But Spike couldn't bring himself to press for more information. He decided to ditch the subject before the discussion got heated.

“If it's all the same to you, Twilight,” Spike said as he got out of the easy chair, “I'm gonna go explore your parents' house a bit.”

Twilight took a deep breath before she managed to smile at Spike. “I promise I'll be more open about it some other time. Also, make sure to check the attic, I'm pretty sure my dad left something up there that you might like.

“Like what?”

“First edition Power Ponies.”

Spike ran up the stairs without another word. When he reached the top, he found himself in a drafty room with wooden floors, walls, and rafters. Particles of dust danced around the shafts of light shining through the various small holes on the walls. A daddy longlegs crawled out of a hole on the floor.

There were two black hooded leather jackets hanging on a coat hook to the right of the stairs, along with a pillow on the floor. Spike made a mental note not to get close: Celestia knows how much dust accumulated on it for the past decade or two.

“Yoo-hoo! First edition Power Ponies!” Spike called out. His pupils darted this way and that as he sensed the air with his forked tongue and grinned, showing off his baby canines. "You can't hide from me forever, my sweet little comics, Don't be shy." His nictitating membrane joined in on the fun, clouding his eyes to complete the savage look. "Join me, and together we will rule the imagination-verse, and defeat the villains—you, me, and Hum Drum!"

There was no response. The predatory facade shattered.

“Argh, where are they?” Spike whined. Part of him wanted the comic to pop out of a corner and run towards him, eager to be read. He wouldn't be surprised if it actually did that: the last Power Ponies comic he read sucked him into an alternate dimension, after all.

Spike's eyes drifted to a shaft of light shining onto a book on the floor. The light drew him close to the book as if the dust shimmering across it had cast a spell on him. He picked it up excitedly, but his heart fell when he realized it wasn't the prize he sought.

Spike figured he should put it on one of the shelves. It wasn't his business anyway, but a touch of curiosity struck him. One peek wouldn't hurt.





He walked back to the light, lay on the floor, and opened somewhere in the first half of the book.

Dear Journal,

Son of a mule, I hate airships.

No matter how calm the wind is, I never feel like I'm standing on anything stable. Even though my room is far from the propellers, their droning is so loud that I can't even sleep properly. And my room…dear Celestia, my room. It's cramped, it's dusty, and it's full of useless shit that I can't throw out because it might attract attention. And to top off the cake of suck, my bunk-mate's snores are louder than the propeller.

I don't even know why I'm complaining. This is a cargo vessel, not a luxury cruise. I don't even have a ticket to be here! I have the money for a legit passenger airship to the Orient, but would she take it? No, of course not. “Those pigskins are too slow,” she says. “Where's the fun in that?” she says. “Save your money for the medical bills,” she says. 

Okay, keep it together. It's only a few days. I was the one who volunteered for this. I'm the one who needs to see it through.

I just hope Night Light doesn't worry too much about me. I haven't contacted him in days, and he has big plans for our wedding. Times like this, I wish I had adopted a baby messenger dragon from Fillydelphia…





Twilight Velvet exited a lavatory in the airship, a sigh of relief and relaxation escaping from her lips as she fixed her mane. Normally, she'd grumble about being reduced to using a public restroom, but after the past couple of days, she was grateful to see something that resembled an actual toilet instead of, say, a bunch of creosote bushes.

Her eyes drifted to the window at the right side of the hall. There was a small chain of islands to the east, but aside from that, the ocean was a canvas bathed in turquoise. Several clouds floated by, as if to greet the Canterlot unicorn and wish her well on her travels.

That, or they were laughing at her for making such a stupid commitment.

Velvet sighed and leaned by the window, the droning of the airship's propellers fading into the background. She would've taken the time to marvel at the hybrid airship's engineering if other thoughts weren't eating her mind at the moment. Was this trip even worth it at all?

The chattering of voices snapped Velvet out of her musings.

“Hey! Tell the greenhorn here about your job in South Abyssinia,” called the voice of a gruff stallion.

“You sure that's a good idea?” replied a mare's voice. “The last one who heard about it couldn't sleep for a week!”

The voices came from the far end of the hall, accompanied by hoofsteps on wood. Velvet hurried behind a corner and tried to hide. She didn't recognize the owners of the voices—all the more reason to avoid them.

“Patrols—great timing,” she muttered. "At least no one from this posse had to answer the call to nature."

Cursing her lack of knowledge of invisibility spells, Velvet hugged the wall. The window showed the reflections of the voices’ owners: two stallions and a mare, all of whom wore tan fatigues and radio headsets. One had a shotgun, and the other two had fully semiautomatic .22 caliber heavy machine guns.

Wait, that couldn't be right. Was it .30? .40? What even is a fully semiautomatic? To hell with it. It's black. It's scary. That was all she needed to know.

Velvet could feel their hoofsteps through the floor. Her heart raced. Her fur stood on end. They were getting close. She needed a distraction. Maybe...their headsets could be put to good use.

A devilish smile materialized on Velvet's face. Her horn lit up while several electrical sparks danced on its surface. Now was the opportunity to put a graduate school prank to good use.

“All right, all right, you got me,” the mare mercenary started. “Back then, the warlords provided us with EEEEAAAAAHH!!”

The older mare fell to the ground, clutching her headset. Even though Velvet's ears weren't the ones flooded with deafening white noise, she could still hear it crackling as it materialized from her horn and into the older mare's radio. The stallions beside the older mare rushed to her side and yanked the headset off. As much as she wanted to stay behind and watch, Velvet knew she had to hightail it out before they started searching around. Light on her hooves, she slunk down the hallway away from the three ponies, hoping to find a way around them through the inner corridors.

Thankfully, there weren't many other gunponies in the path Velvet was snaking through. There were many storage rooms and other places to hide in, and the gunponies usually came in groups of three, five at the most. It just rubbed Velvet the wrong way that the simple act of going to the bathroom required her to sneak through a gauntlet of thugs who would shoot her on sight. Anyway, that was all behind her now that she was in front of the door to her cabin…or at least, a storage closet that functioned as a cabin. When you're a stowaway, you don't have the luxury of even a third-class room.

Velvet locked the door behind her and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Just two more days, and she'd be in the Orient. Add in a few more days of catching her big scoop there, plus a few more for the return trip, and it wouldn't be long before she could see Night Light again. It wouldn't be the first time he had to put up with her shit, but he was a patient stallion. He would wait for her.

There was a rustling sound. Velvet spun around.

She was staring down the barrel of a pistol.

Every muscle in Velvet's body tensed. But then she allowed herself to relax and breathe a sigh of relief when she saw the mare behind the gun.

“Damn it, girl, you gave me a heart attack,” Daring Do said.

“Fourth time,” Velvet said, “that's the fourth time you nearly got me killed this week.”

“Chin up,” Daring said, holstering the gun. “That just means more juicy details for your article, right?”

“Yeah, if anypony in Scientific Equestrian even believes the things I'm going to write about.” The words were puffed out of Velvet's mouth as she collapsed onto a heap of clothes, fabrics, and bags on the floor, waving her legs as if she were swimming. These weren't bedroom linens, sure. They smelled musty, chafed her skin through her fur, and carried more dust than that last cave system she and Daring explored. As an improvised bed, though, it sure beat the linoleum floor.

“That's clean laundry,” Daring said.

“Don't care.” Velvet waved dismissively without looking. “It's not ours. We don't have to wash it.”

Daring sat behind a cardboard-box–turned–makeshift-desk and began scribbling on a notebook with some pencils. “Funny, I expected you to be all fussy about your bed being just a bundle of clothes on the floor. You're from Canterlot after all.”

“After nearly getting my tail burned off in the Badlands because of you? Compared to that, this place is the Mareiott.”

“Well, I'm sorry I couldn't get you an actual passenger blimp, but—”

“Airship,” interrupted Velvet as she sat up. “For the hundredth time, it's an airship. Blimps don't have rigid metal skeletons.”

“Don't care,” echoed Daring. “As long as it gets us to the Orient.”

“Yeah, about that... What do we do when we get there?”

Daring flipped her notebook around so Velvet could see the sketches. “I'm thinking that we're gonna take a look at the tunnels the Neighponese Empire dug during the Second Global Conflict,” she said, dancing her hoof around the scribbles. “Dunno how he did it, but Uncle Ad mapped them all out here. He theorized that the Neighponese were able to recover the Spectrum of Lightning in the war, but couldn't get it out of the country before the Equestrians kicked them out.”

Velvet blinked a few times, then suppressed a snicker.

“What?” Daring cocked her head.

“I…I'm sorry,” said Velvet, continuing to suppress her laughter. “I still can't get over the fact that you nicknamed your uncle ‘Uncle Ad.’”

“I was young and stupid, okay?” Daring said, pounding the box with her hoof. “It's short for ‘Uncle Adventure’!”

“Then why didn't you shorten it to something like ‘Uncle Venture?’ ‘Uncle Ad,’ my ass. That sounds like the name of a Billy Hays-type salespony!”

Daring crossed her arms and huffed as she laid the notebook flat on the box. “You weren't listening to anything else I was saying, were you?”

“Nope!”

“Well, I'm glad I at least managed to entertain you.”

Daring got back to writing on her notebook, muttering to herself in both Ponish and in some other weird language. “Kabayitos,” Velvet recalled its name to be. There was a reason she left all the linguistics and soft science stuff to Daring.

On the outside, Velvet was still smiling at Daring's poor nickname choices. Inside, the thoughts that had been eating her mind earlier began to resurface. It made Velvet feel unsettled: she wasn't usually this introspective... that was Night Light's shtick.

Daring wasn't exactly the most academically rigorous archeologist out there. If Velvet wrote an article on Daring, what would the ponies in Scientific Equestrian think? What self-respecting archaeologist carries a whip along with a trowel? The trowel, she could understand, but a whip? Isn't that a circus tool?

And the less said about Daring's predilection of stealing AK rifles from the ponies shooting at her, the better.

She tried to distract herself with the airship's engineering, but that was hard to do at the moment, considering she couldn't just march out the door and survey it from the outside. Her magic wasn't strong enough to levitate herself and “fly,” not that she wanted to anyway. The sky had no cover.

Her eyes once again drifted out the window. Nothing but turquoise in the horizon, the chain of islands gone from sight. Here she was, embarking on a journey to the other side of the world, traveling farther and farther away from her husband-to-be. 

He's a patient stallion. And when I get back… then the real adventure starts. That is…if she could handle the whip-cracking crusader's antics long enough to get home.

Velvet breathed out a sigh, losing herself again in the calm motions of the sea.

This was gonna be one hell of a trip.
> Chapter 3: Spicy Time
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike blinked slowly, his jaw hanging slightly open while he furrowed his brow. He set Twilight Velvet's journal on the floor, his mind whirling like a pinwheel.

“What in Equestria?”

He crossed his arms, glaring down at the journal.

“There's no way...” Spike scratched his right temple. “Twilight Velvet… and Daring Do?”

Spike frowned for a long moment before a smile crept onto his face.

“Bah, what am I thinking?” Spike regained his composure and scolded himself. “This can't be real!” Spike delicately picked the journal back up, his eyes lingering on the cover. “Pretty good fanfic, though…”

Another thought wiped the smile off his face. It wouldn't be the first time Daring Do had surprised him. Why, it only seemed like yesterday when he, Twilight, and her friends thought Daring was just a fictional character. Considering their chaotic life in Ponyville, he really shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore.

Still, it was a bit of a stretch...

Part of him wanted to put the journal away and resume his search for First Edition Power Ponies, but...wasn't it his responsibility to keep reading? If there was even the slightest chance this was real, he had a duty to tell Twilight. Besides, this was already better than the last three Daring Do books of the series.

Spike figured he was going to be in the attic for quite a while—Might as well get comfortable. He dragged the lumpy pillow from near the coat hook to the light and fluffed it to remove the dust. With a reflexive lick of his claw, he flicked the journal to the beginning and settled himself on the pillow.

“All right, Twilight Velvet,” Spike said to the journal. “Entertain me.”

Dear Journal,

You know those times when you think you did something terrible in a previous life,  and now the world is deliberately engineering events just to make you its bitch?

Yeah, I've had one of those moments.

Maybe I should start by recounting how today began. I was in my hotel in Vanhoover, packing my things for a trip back to Canterlot.

Okay, so that wasn't the only thing I was doing. Let's just say I was also doing some last-minute renovating…





Twilight Velvet squinted at the two exposed wires she was bringing together with her front hooves. Small arcs of purple electricity danced on her horn and floated to the copper filaments on the wires, only to dissipate without any effect.

“Come on... Come on... don't do this to me,” she grumbled.

She brought the wires closer, eventually managing to get them to spark. A muffled crackle reached her ears, a sparkle forming in her light blue eyes.

“Ha! Still got it.”

It was the last piece of her puzzle: the reason her face spent the last fifteen minutes stuffed on the back of the TV, her plump posterior sticking out and upwards in the air. Thank Celestia she was alone in her hotel room.

Velvet stood up and scoped her room. Wires snaked across the carpet at the center, and she had to be careful not to trip over any as she moved. Her saddlebag lay on a wooden table near the window—notebooks, pens, and one train ticket spilling out. Her master's thesis, ‘Laying the Groundwork for Mundane Technology in a Magical World,’ lay alongside a copy of Dual Nature's, ‘Looking to the Future: The Case for the Hybridization of Magic and Technology.’ Just glancing at the two articles caused Velvet to purse her lips. A snippet of the seminar she'd given the day before replayed in her mind like a tangled cassette tape. 

"Most historians agree that technology first arose because of a sudden drop in the unicorn population. We're still trying to figure out why—could be a disease, could be the fact that this was during the Warring Tribes period. In any case, after the unification of the tribes, the unicorn artisans thought, 'Oh shit, there aren't enough of us to cast spells to make our doohickeys! Let's make stuff that'll allow us to craft more without magic. While we're at it, get the other races to help us: fun for the whole family, so to speak!”

The TV she had been working on, a flat-screen, had a black cavity in place of an actual display. The polarizing film, the liquid crystal layer, the active matrix—all the components of the screen lay scattered on the bed. Several pieces of the TV's circuit board lay on the floor, soldered to the wires with hasty heating spells. There was a full-body mirror mounted on the wall, wires soldered to its mounts with the same haphazard manner. In place of a reflection, however, was a swirling gray pattern of static, spitting out the occasional crackling sound.

Velvet took a deep breath. To her, this was a way to relieve her tinkering itch.

To other ponies, this was just an elaborate form of vandalism.

"Not my best; wish I brought my voltage regulator. But, eh, good enough. Now for the final touch."

Three thumps sounded from the ceiling. Dust fell to the floor and sprinkled around Velvet, but all she did was roll her eyes and bite her lip. That thumping noise had been going on for the past five minutes, and Velvet's left eye was starting to twitch. She grabbed a piece of metal, left over from her endeavors, and knocked it against the ceiling several times.

“If you're too excited to keep it to yourself, then you won't mind if I come join you!”





Silence…sweet silence.

Velvet's horn sputtered as it produced arcs of purple and cerise electricity that made their way to the mirror. Her mind raced through various calculations and frequencies, tailoring her magic to find the one she was looking for.

The static in the mirror began to clear. In its place, the image of a blue stallion came into view. He was resting his cheek on his hoof as he read an astronomy book, which was levitating in front of his face.

“Hey, Nachtlicht!” Velvet called out in a mangled Germane accent. The stallion jerked upwards, hooves flailing in surprise. The book he was reading got a new chapter on aviation as he turned to face Velvet. He smiled and tried to play it cool, though not without fidgeting a bit and hurriedly running a comb through his mane.

“You owe me ten bits,” said Velvet as she sat in front of the mirror.

“Well, horseapples,” Night Light said as he continued combing his mane. Then the book came back down and knocked him on the head. Velvet couldn't help but giggle while Night massaged his head with a hoof. “I was starting to think I'd won this time.”

“You almost did. The hotel uses one of those newfangled LCD TVs here. No phosphor screen to cannibalize, and a lot more prone to breaking when taken apart by magic. But I always find a way. Had to conjure up a lot more aetheric solder than I thought I needed, though.”

Night let out an annoyed huff. “I still don't see why you can't just cast a spell into the mirror like unicorns did a century ago.”

“Where's the fun in that?” Velvet said, rolling her eyes. Then she winked at Night, brushing her dusty mane back with her magic. “Besides, my way allows for longer range. Aren't you glad to see me?”

Night put the comb away and faced Velvet, chuckling to her. “Of course I am, honey. Though I seriously wish you wouldn't strain your insurance policies with your…tinkering.”

Velvet glanced at a portion of the LCD screen beside her and pushed it out of Night's view. “You know me so well.”

“Of course. Otherwise, I wouldn't have said ‘Yes.’”

“The longer we wait, the more satisfying it will be,” Velvet cooed. “And you've got a month left before the big day.”

Night blushed and chuckled in response, then cleared his throat. “So, how's Vanhoover?”

“Oh, the usual.” Velvet levitated the papers on top of the table and dumped them into the saddlebag. “Gave a lecture on the history of technology in Equestria to a bunch of college foals. Then another article for Scientific Equestrian talking about how we're getting the younger generation interested in science and all that other crap. I swear, that's all the magazine sees in me. Can't even find a—”

Two thumps interrupted Velvet, causing her to fold her ears and crease her lips.

“What's that?” Night's eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Just some newlyweds having some spicy time. They've been like that for the past five minutes.” Velvet strapped the saddlebag onto her barrel, sucking in her love handles. The straps dug into Velvet's pudge as she grunted and wheezed.

Night smiled. “One too many éclairs?”

“You know you like it!” Velvet took a break from her grumbling to show off her jiggling pudge, causing Night Light to stifle a laugh.

“Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, that's all I am to the magazine—a loudspeaker for their platitudes.”

The buckles on the saddlebags clicked, and Velvet breathed out.

“Sounds like you're in a rut.”

“No shit. Discovery of the century right there. ‘Canterlot Astronomer Wins the Dual Nature Prize in Deduction!'” Velvet teased. “Maybe I should write an article on that.”

Another thud sounding from the ceiling as if to punctuate Velvet's sentence. Meanwhile, Night snickered, then put a hoof to his chin.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“About the noise?” Velvet gave him a lecherous grin.

“No no no no! About your…thing…with Scientific Equestrian!”

“Oh, I dunno,” Velvet said, cracking her back as her voice adopted a slight guttural tone. “Wait for something to hit me, I guess.”

“Well, don't let it get to you, okay? If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here for you.”

Velvet's face reddened, and a warm smile creased on her mouth. “Aw, Nighty, there you are again. Don't get all mushy like that!”

“Admit it! You like it when I do that,” Night teased.

“Only when you do it.” Velvet glanced aside at a clock on a wall, then turned back to Night. “Hey, uh, Nachtlicht, I gotta go. The train leaves in twenty minutes.”

“Sure thing, I'll see you at the altar,” Night said. “You take care now! Oh, and one more thing…”

“Yes, honey?”

“Don't call me Nachtlicht. I hate that name.”

“Why do you think I keep using it?”

Night smirked. “Oh, so that's how you want to play, huh? How about I call you—"

Velvet yanked one of the wires from the mounts of the mirror with her magic. White noise filled the room before Night's image disappeared in a flash of white.

“Oops.” Velvet grinned.

She stood on the floor and looked over the room once again, noting the clutter on the floor and the cannibalized TV. It shouldn't take long to hide. She just had to remember how she disassembled this thing.

The circuit board sparked, eliciting a sharp squeak from Velvet. Smoke began to float from the circuit board to the ceiling as Velvet groaned. Her eyes wandered to the wall clock near the window.

11:20 am. Ten minutes to check-out time.

“Buck it to the flaming sun!”





Saddlebags in tow, Velvet walked down the hall of the hotel in brisk steps. She kept her head up and her eyes forward, her heart threatening to escape her chest.

Don't look back. Just keep trotting

She had spent the last eight minutes trying to cover her tracks: a plastic bag to mask the room's smoke detector, a small cooling spell to extinguish the circuit board, some epoxy on the screen assembly, and electrical tape on the wires she'd cut. Every bit of solder had been tossed off the balcony window; she couldn't risk the staff discovering hot metal granules in the trash can and tracing them back to her.

It was a small wonder she hadn't set her room on fire.

Da-thump. Da-thump. Da-thump.

“Damn, they're still at it?!” Velvet grumbled.

The elevators were now in sight. Velvet headed for the one nearest to the hall, pressed the down button, and stood back.

Da-thump. Da-thump. Da-thump.

This time, Velvet perked her ears up. Something was different about the sounds coming from the ceiling.

Da-THUMP. Da-THUMP. Da-THUMP.

The sounds were getting close. Velvet looked up at the ceiling, watching the dust fall as the lightbulbs shook in their sockets.

As Velvet traced the thumps with some difficulty, her head turned until she realized that she was no longer looking up, but sideways.

“What the—”

Velvet's world turned upside down.

The carpet grazed Velvet's cheek. Her vision blurred; her hearing muted. Something wide and hard had fallen onto her chest, knocking the wind out of her. As she tried to shake off her delirium, a dark blur crossed her vision.

Velvet shook her head, her ears ringing as her pupils dilated painfully. A shadowy figure slowly came into focus before her, the pony's entire body concealed by a dark cloak. The figure sprang up, darting around left and right as if in desperate search of something. Squinting hard, she tried to get a look at the pony's face, but all she could make out were the pony's rose-colored eyes.

As Velvet shifted, something solid bumped into her hooves. They picked up the thick, hard object and brought it up to view.

A notebook of sorts.

“Hey! Hey! You—”

In a single fluid motion, the cloaked pony sailed through the window, shattering it.

“—dropped...this…”

The ding of a bell told Velvet that her elevator had arrived, but it fell on deaf ears. She gaped at the broken window, a loose shard of glass falling from the top of the frame to the street below. The wind howled across Velvet's folded ears as her eyes drifted to the notebook, then back to the window, where its owner had just flown behind a skyscraper in the distance.

She'd call hotel staff to report the broken window, but decided she didn't want them discovering what she had done to their TV.

"I guess everypony is having a wild time..."
> Chapter 4: Riding Coach
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The late afternoon sun shone through the windows of a passenger train as the suburban meadows of Vanhoover faded into the horizon, giving way to the plant-based meadows of the Western Equestrian countryside. By the aisle, Twilight Velvet slumped at her seat, a cloud of magenta magic and electrical sparks silently levitating in front of her face. Her mind shuffled through several equations, the magic mist bending and twisting every time she changed a variable. An exponent here: the cloud turned purple. A square root there: the cloud returned to its magenta color.

“Please don't perform dangerous spells onboard, miss,” declared a stern stallion's voice.

His baritone caused the fur on Velvet's withers to raise. Nonetheless, Velvet's body barely budged; this kind of imposing tone was all too familiar to her.

Cops.

“Come on, it's not even close to seventy milliamps," protested Velvet, not even bothering to face the guard.

“Miss, deactivate that spell right now,” the voice repeated.

The magical cloud dissipated into the aether as Velvet rolled her eyes. “There. Happy?”

Velvet got no answer. The officer merely walked forward, digging his purple unshorn fetlocks into the rug and turning his head to avoid eye contact. Velvet stuck her tongue out at him, only to suck it back in when the cop turned around to scowl at her.

He should be glad she wasn't experimenting with teleportation magic.

It had been around six hours since getting aboard the New Friendship Express. Velvet wasn't one to overpack. On this trip, she'd only brought her journal, some papers for her lecture in Vanhoover, and her tools. Her motorcycle was the only piece of baggage that might have given her trouble, and while the rear baggage car of the New Friendship Express normally forbade anything that wasn't a hoof-powered safety bike, a little bribery went a long way.

As Velvet leaned back on her seat, her eyes drifted to the notebook from earlier. Its rustic brown cover stood out from the bright red vinyl of the empty seat it was lying on. Its edges were rugged; its cover, wrinkled from a dried stain.

A shimmer danced on her eyes as her foreleg slowly extended towards the notebook.

“No,” muttered Velvet, her foreleg recoiling. Curiosity, which often fueled her tinkering, was sometimes more a vice than a virtue. “It's not mine. I don't have any business with it.”

She blinked.

“Ah, screw it.”

A cloud of magic engulfed the notebook and brought it towards Velvet's forelegs, opening it as it went. What did she have to lose?

In the back of her mind, the shadow of a blue stallion shook his head at her.

The first thing to catch Velvet's eyes was the sketch of a mare in a ragged cloak. She was lying on the ground with her neck stretching upwards, her curved horn nearly touching the margin. For a second, Velvet thought this was a self-portrait, but the writing below the sketch told her otherwise.

“‘Mage Meadowbrook the Fourth,’” mouthed Velvet.

Any foal out of Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns could name-drop the original Mage Meadowbrook for an exam question. Add in her less famous and sometimes similarly-named descendants, though, and even postgrads would start to get names mixed up. That some of Mage Meadowbrook's descendants usually ended up migrating to different areas and integrating with the population did not help matters.

"Finally! Here's a pony who knows her stuff! Shame, don't think we'll ever get the chance to talk."

To the right of Meadowbrook the Fourth was another sketch: a triangular prism decorated with ornate patterns—or at least, as ornate as could be accomplished with quick pencil strokes. The corners of Velvet's lips curled upward upon seeing the prism. It brought back memories of college days: the times Night Light tried to impress her with his collection of mirrors, lenses, star maps, and spoon sets. Astronomy wasn't Velvet's thing, either; all she did in those moments was smile and nod.

And here she was now, having made him her own night light on the horizon.

Velvet turned the page, greeted by more pencil sketches. Surrounded by a circular halo of smudges, a pony—or rather, a bundle of sticks drawn in the shape of a pony—stood spread-eagle over some fields. Smudges of graphite surrounded the pony, jagged forks sprouting from them and streaks of rain falling to the fields below.

“Pegasus magic?” Velvet speculated. “But that can't be right. That pony doesn't have wings…or a horn for that matter.”

There was a block of text below the drawing. Maybe it could shed some light on what was going on.

‘…mohatag kini ug tanang kolor nga balangaw, paspas na walay itandi, ug kapangyarihan sa ibabaw sa kilat, pero mahitabo siya pinaagi sa usa ka bug-at na luwan.’

Velvet quirked an eyebrow.

“What?”

At least whoever wrote this jumble of syllables had the sense to provide subtitles.

“…give her all the colors of the rainbow, unimaginable speed, and authority over thunder, but curse her with an unfathomable burden.”

– William Henry Trot's translation

Odd for Meadowbrook the Fourth to make something like this, and so far away from home, too. Group effort, maybe? The fact that the earliest records weren't written in her native language implies that…

Velvet stroked her chin with the tip of her hoof. “Curious…” she mouthed, putting the pieces together. A way to make lightning without using pegasus or unicorn magic? Assuming this was all true, whoever wrote this notebook must've stumbled onto something big. A twinkle appeared in Velvet's eye. This could be her lucky break.

But the twinkle departed just as quickly as it had arrived. The owner of the notebook was probably all the way back in Vanhoover, never to see their notes ever again.

“Gotta make do with what I have.” Velvet sighed as she put the notebook back on the empty seat, resigning herself to staring at the meadows speeding by.

As the sun retired and the lights inside of the train switched on, the car took on a warm yellow glow. A small herd of passengers, Velvet included, made their way to the dining car down the rear, the aroma of carbonara reeling them in.

Dinner would have to wait for Velvet, though. There were other nuts to chew.

After escaping the flood of ponies in the dining area, she found herself walking down the corridors of the rear sleeping cars. The New Friendship Express opted for a more personalized setup with separate rooms, in contrast to the bunk bed cars of the old steam engines. Good thing, too: the musty smell that came out of them was way too much for Velvet to handle.

Three sleeping cars later, Velvet entered the last car of the train: the cargo hold. The cold, air-conditioned gust swept her mane and caused her fur to stand on end, but it soon gave way to a drafty, suffocating heat. There was a lone security guard near the door, but his slumped form and tongue flopping out of his mouth told Velvet that he wouldn't be a problem if she kept her voice low. With only bare, flickering lightbulbs illuminating the otherwise dark baggage car, she crept towards the rear, crates and duffel bags looming over her in the large shelves on one side of the aisle, the other side housing a large sliding door. Looking up at a skylight, she saw a bunch of train signals zip by, casting a green glow for half a second.

Down the end of the hall was a lovely bunch of bicycles. There they were, standing in a row and resting on bike stands. Large ones, small ones, some as big as Velvet's body. But the one Velvet caressed with her eyes was the bulkiest one—the only one powered by combustion instead of pedal.

“Missed me, Evy?” Velvet glided a hoof over the motorcycle's bright red frame and yellow fire sticker. The latter wasn't her idea, but Night Light sure knew how to match colors.

A glint of metal near the fender caught Velvet's eye. Something in her mind clicked.

The booster solenoid was loose.

“Not again.”

She could've sworn she'd tightened the screws enough the last time. The handlers must've jostled the motorcycle around when they were loading it. Anyway, not a disaster—she didn't even need her tools. But this was just like that banging in the hotel, only without the ponies running downstairs and crashing through windows.

On second thought, this wasn't like that banging in the hotel.

Velvet squeezed between a mountain bike and her motorcycle. Leaning on the former, she squinted between the booster valve and its respective tank, catching a faint, metallic whiff of nitrous oxide and hydrogenated arcanite. Small clouds of magic straightened the solenoid and tightened the screws around it.

“Give it a twist, and that's the gist of what my stallion said…” Velvet cooed softly. The metallic smell faded, telling Velvet that everything was taken care of. Time to head back and get some R 'n' R.

Several minutes later, after washing up and satisfying her grumbling tummy, Velvet reentered the coach car, curling the back of her mane as she climbed onto her seat. The cabin was silent, save for the grinding of the train's wheels and the occasional whispered chatter. Nopony sat beside her or heck, even in the seat in front of her. Not that big of a deal, although some company would be nice.

As Velvet lounged on her seat, she found herself staring at the notebook yet again, its stains contrasting sharply with the slick, clean fabric of the seat in front of her. Did she really want to read more now?

A small pang of grogginess from her head dissuaded her from such endeavors.

A stranger bumped into her and crashed through a window, and all she got was this weird-ass notebook. Velvet curled into a sleeping position and slowly closed her eyes. [Best worry about it tomorrow.

A pair of rose-colored eyes crossed her vision.

Velvet sat up. Her heart raced. She rubbed her eyes and squinted out the window.

Gone.

Or was it? Velvet opened the window with her magic and poked her body out. “Hey!” she called out as the wind howled across her mane. “Who's there?!”

Nothing.

“Pony of few words, huh?” Velvet called out into the darkness. “It's rude to leave a mare waiting!”

As Velvet closed the window, she turned her head and saw everypony sitting up and staring perplexedly at her. The purple security guard, in particular, had contorted his face in a scowl, which would have made Velvet laugh if it weren't for their prior history.

The unicorn's ears folded back, and she gave an awkward chuckle.

“I…was, uh…sending a prayer to the princess…”

Velvet melted into her seat, keeping her head low and averting her eyes from the other passengers.

“Ugh, maybe I'm just getting jumpy. It was probably nothing.” The words were slurred out of her mouth as she ventured into the dreamscape, one last thought imprinting itself into her mind.

Probably nothing, my ass.





The bright morning sun shone through windows of the dining car as the chipper voice of a recorded announcement told Velvet that the New Friendship Express was about to leave Tall Tale. She munched on some french toast as inertia jerked her backward and the train began to move. The glass of water on her table shook. It would have tipped over onto the mysterious notebook were it not for Velvet's quick reaction.

After Velvet had summed up the previous day's events in her journal, the train was well on its way through the countryside once again. Chewing bits of the eraser end of her pencil, Velvet slouched on the table and rested her head on her hoof—notepads, pens, and other detritus scattered across the table. The sooner she could decipher this notebook, the sooner she could decide how to write her article.

So far, no such luck.

All Velvet had was that whatever this “Spectrum” was could probably be some kind of weather magic concentrated into a solid mass, but even that was just a hypothesis. She'd have to confirm it with a pegasus in weather management technologies or, better yet, the owner of the notebook.

Something shifted in the corner of her vision. Velvet's heart skipped a beat. She gasped and looked up, not realizing she was covering the notebook with her hooves.

“Yes?” said an attendant at the aisle, looking back over her shoulder. Her uniform emphasized her hindquarters quite well, and there was a deep blush upon her face as she stared at Velvet.

“Oh, sweetheart, I'm flattered,” Velvet said, regaining her composure and putting up a facade. “But I'm afraid my barn door doesn't swing that way.”

Once the mare was out of sight, however, Velvet groaned, cupped her face with her hooves, and then stared at the mysterious notebook. It stared back, or at least, that was how Velvet felt. She scoped the room from her seat, her eyes jumping from pony to pony as they went about their business.

There was a burly pegasus stallion with a rainbow mane at the table opposite of her. He raised an eyebrow at Velvet before returning to his coffee.

There was a couple at a booth behind her, scornful looks on their faces as they pointed at various ponies in the car. Something in Velvet's mind told her that they were talking about her, but she pushed that thought out of her mind.

There was a mare entering one of the bathrooms near the door. Velvet only got a view of the silhouette of her tail before the door closed behind her.

Down the dining hall, there was a gray unicorn in a business suit, holding a newspaper in front of his face. His eyes shifted. Velvet scooted away from him in response. Maybe the conspiracy theorists were right all along about the existence of S.M.I.L.E.?

"Crap, what am I thinking?" Velvet allowed her head to drop onto the table. "Get a grip on yourself, Twilight. It's just a notebook."

Two ponies—one wearing a tan, hooded jacket and the other a dark cloak—emerged from Velvet's peripheral vision, walking down the aisle. The latter turned to the former. “Is this really necessary?” a somewhat gravelly mare's voice spoke.

“After that stunt you pulled in Vanhoover, yes,” the jacketed pony said, the deep voice of a stallion rumbling out. “Now zip it. We don't want to attract any more attention.”

Velvet's ears twitched.

“Okay, okay,” said Cloaked Mare. “Look, I'll concede: it wasn't the best thought-out course of action…”

As the two ponies reached the door at the end of the car and their voices faded into inarticulate murmurs, Velvet peeked out to watch them. Cloaked Mare looked around as her partner opened the door to the other car. She moved her head too fast for Velvet to get a good look of her face, but there was one thing that Velvet managed to catch before Cloaked Mare exited.

Rosy eyes.

That settled it.

Once the door closed behind the couple, Velvet got up from her seat and walked towards the door. She braced herself, hoof on the doorknob and an ear at the jamb.

The door burst open. The train's wheels rattled underneath her.

“Hey, did you guys say something about—”

Where were they? They had disappeared down that door a second ago. Velvet was in one of the coach cars; there were plenty of heads turning towards her, but none she recognized. Frowning, she got on her hind legs to look over the crowd for their distinctive clothes, then settled on all fours when the search proved fruitless.

“What did they do—vanish into thin air?” She waved a hoof out through the window at the sun. “Are you doing this on purpose?!”





The crowd chatter that came with the territory of being in a passenger train died down sometime in the mid-afternoon. Most of the ponies in Velvet's cabin had either dozed off or resigned themselves to watching the—now rather monotonous—countryside zip through the windows.

Twilight Velvet, on the other hoof, levitated the mysterious notebook in front of her face. To hell with it. She was going to write an article on this notebook—even if it was going to take years to study, and even if she would never meet its owner.

Though the latter would be a nice bonus.

“So that's why Meadowbrook the Fourth got roped into making this ‘Spectrum,’” Velvet said to herself upon finishing a page. “Required secondary powers. Make sure a pony doesn't burn herself up while trying to ride her own lightning, so to speak. But that doesn't answer the question of who you worked with to make this or heck, how you gave ponies these badass abilities…”

Velvet canceled her magic, allowing the notebook to fall to the floor as she leaned back, air escaping from her mouth. This was way out of her league. Maybe Night Light knew somepony who could help.

“You have something that belongs to me.”

A gravelly mare's voice shook Velvet from her thoughts. She quickly turned her head to the pony on the aisle, taking a few seconds to survey her form.

At least, she tried to survey her form, but Cloaked Mare kept her head craned toward the floor, preventing Velvet from seeing her face.

“About damn time. Is this how you roll? You like to size up your meat from the shadows before closing in for the kill?”

Cloaked Mare said nothing as she extended a hoof to the notebook.

“Nuh uh uh.” Velvet swiped the notebook with her telekinesis before Cloaked Mare's hoof could touch it. “How do I know this is really yours? Want it? Answer my riddles.”

Probably just a waste of time, but after the past few days, it couldn't hurt to be cautious.

“What are you, the Sphinx?” Cloaked Mare growled. “Are you going to blindfold me and make me walk through a chasm as well?”

“Hey now!” Velvet crossed her forelegs and smirked at Cloaked Mare. “That's no way to talk to the mare who saved your notebook! Now, what's the relic you're looking for?”

“Oh Celestia, it's the Spectrum of Lightning! Now give the—”

“Who made it?”

“Mage Meadowbrook!” Cloaked Mare was digging her hooves into the floor. “Damn it, I don't have time for this!”

“But which one?”

Cloaked Mare fell silent.

She tried to reach for the notebook again, but Velvet levitated it out of reach and put it at the empty seat beside her.

“Wrong. The name ‘Meadowbrook’ was passed down for seven generations from the original Equestrian figure. The one who made the Spectrum was the fourth. Next question: if you don't own this notebook, why are you—”

A foreleg slammed into Velvet's neck. She sputtered and coughed. Velvet's chest heaved as she stared into Cloaked Mare's burning magenta eyes. The latter's head covering slipped off, a deep violet mane billowing from it and brushing her blue fur.

“Wait…wait!” Velvet gasped out. “I can be…reasonable…”

Keeping her left foreleg on Velvet's neck, Once-Cloaked-Mare whipped out a radio from a pocket on her cloak. “Everypony, regroup in the second coach car!” she shouted. “I got what we came here for!”

A bolo punch sent Velvet's upper body to her seat. Groaning, she curled and clutched her midsection. Surrounding passengers began to mutter and murmur as Once-Cloaked-Mare stepped forward and pulled a pistol from a holster under her cloak, the fire still burning in her eyes.

“Hey!” declared a familiar baritone from the aisle. “Drop the—”

A boom echoed across the hall.

It was quick; Velvet wasn't even sure she saw the movement. One second, her attacker was facing her. The next, she was aiming down the hall, her pistol breathing out a wisp of smoke.

Deep breaths escaped Velvet's mouth. Her ears pressed flat against her head as she sat up, her mind reeling from the concussive blast from the gun barrel.

Without wanting them to, her eyes flicked over the body on the floor. It was the guard from the previous day, a pool of deep crimson blossoming onto carpet beneath him as his chest shuddered with its final breath.





"Oh crap. Oh crap! Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! What's happening?!" Velvet whispered to herself.

"Anypony else want to join him?!" The gunmare surveyed the cowering passengers with the business end of her weapon. The creaking of the cabin door sliding open drew Velvet’s attention behind. Out emerged the jacketed stallion she had seen before with her assailant, causing Velvet to creep back down and recede further into her seat.

Once-Cloaked-Mare turned to face Jacketed Stallion, and Velvet’s eyes flicked back and forth as she watched them hold a very clipped conversation. They most likely were discussing what to do with her, if Jacketed Stallion’s stare was any indication. As the tinnitus in Velvet’s ears began to calm, Velvet’s mind raced through her options. She had to do something—anything!

Jump out the window? Probably break her neck.

Just give them the notebook? They might kill her anyway.

Maybe her skills with electricity? Perhaps she could zap them with a jolt, and escape? But where?

In preparation for the latter course of action, her subconscious had already completed the necessary calculations, activating a small crackle through her horn—a spark waiting for a conduit.

But could she do it?

Could she push through with any of the crazy proposals that her mind offered? She sought for the blue stallion's shadow at the back of her mind, but he was nowhere to be found. As if her limbs had a mind of her own, she slowly took the notebook in her hooves, grasped it like a foal hugging a teddy bear, and trembled in her seat. She'd only known it for a day, but in the absence of anything familiar, her subconscious latched onto the next best thing.

Just as Velvet's hearing returned and the worried cries of surrounding passengers, along with somepony shouting for security, faded into existence, Once-Cloaked-Mare and her coltfriend stopped talking and turned their eyes towards Velvet. Out of the corner of her eye, Velvet noticed Jacketed Stallion moving to the side, bringing a revolver up to aim. 

There was nothing else for it. It was time to act.

A blinding flash, followed by a crackling boom, flooded the train. The train car’s windows rattled. Once-Cloaked-Mare’s right hoof had connected with Velvet’s cheekbone in an overhand cross, causing Velvet to rebound in pain. However, like a circuit being completed, that contact had provided the necessary connection for Velvet’s surge of electricity to cascade from her horn and into her aggressor’s body.

The mare screamed. The stallion’s revolver sounded off. Velvet yelped and flinched, but a quick turn to her rear revealed that the bullet had missed her and perforated the window. Surprised she wasn’t sporting a new hole, Velvet stood up on her seat.

Magenta and violet sparks coursed over Once-Cloaked-Mare's body. Heat and magical energy blackened her fur and clothes. Her body twisted and spasmed as a gurgling sound came from her rictus of pain.

“I… I didn’t… Holy shit!” Velvet whispered as her eyes widened.

A wisp of smoke wafted off her horn as a squeezing, throbbing ache radiated into her forehead, the shrieks and murmurs of other passengers providing an auditory backdrop to the spectacle. Jacketed Stallion sat up from the floor, having been knocked clear from the energy of the discharge. His eyes were focused on the mare. 

After the longest few seconds in Velvet’s life so far, the de-cloaked mare’s trembling limbs grew limp. One last pained gasp escaped from her mouth. The magenta sparks faded away as they dissipated into the aether.

Velvet's thoughts couldn't coalesce coherently in her mind, let alone her mouth. She didn’t calculate how many amps there were in that bolt.

The jacketed stallion shifted his brown eyes to Velvet, a thunderstorm of emotions visible on his face.

Mope later! Velvet's mind screamed.

The thug was bringing his weapon up again. Velvet wasn’t sure her horn could do much more right now, so she jumped down in a panic, landing with all of her weight across his foreleg and trapping it between the floor and the side of the next seat.

A nauseating wet crack was felt more than heard beneath her hooves as she recovered her balance, turning and galloping for the door. The notebook was still clutched to her side, so she tucked it in her mouth and ran down the aisle. 

Sliding to a stop in front of the rear cabin door, Velvet pulled and tugged on the knob to no avail. She suppressed her shouts as she resorted to banging the door with her shoulder. Who locked the damned door?!

At the other end of the coach car, the door suddenly flew open, four ponies rushing in to the aisle with weapons drawn. The jacketed stallion pulled himself up, gesturing to Velvet’s position. He seethed while his good foreleg braced his weapon-wielding foreleg to his torso.

One more shove, and the door flew open. Velvet’s body fell to the floor of the next car. Scrambling to her hooves, Velvet galloped down the aisle, her heart thundering in her chest. From behind, she heard what she guessed was Jacketed Stallion’s voice.

“Get her!”





Velvet slammed the door. Her heart raced despite the weight of her deed bearing down on her conscience. Curling on the floor and stewing in her own guilt would have to wait. There were armed ponies at her tail, and she had absolutely no plan aside from “get the hell away.”

"Shit! Why did you do that?! Stupid stupid stupid!"

She had only galloped halfway through the third coach car when the door behind her splintered. The sound of muffled gunshots leaked through the wood, followed by a cacophonous chorus of yelling. Velvet put her flank into high gear.

She spat out the notebook and held it in her magic, goons bursting through the door behind her. “Give me a rest!” she shouted, looking back at her pursuers. Two of them took positions on the seats, shoving screaming passengers out of the way. Three, including one livid, jacketed stallion, stayed on the aisle.

A bullet sailed past Velvet. She yelped and flinched. The ponies chasing her in the aisle shouted for her head. They looked just about ready to bite her tail.

Velvet swung the door in front of her open with her magic and slammed it just as the thugs behind her pounced. A thud reverberated through the door, and the combined voices of three ponies groaned in pain. Panting and fighting back a fainting spell, Velvet snatched a fire ax from the wall and jammed it at the base of the door. She stepped back as the door pounded a few times, the ponies behind it shouting incomprehensibly.

That should buy her some time…hopefully.

The shattering of windows was followed by the screams of passengers, many ducking down and cowering in their seats. Velvet dove to the floor, narrowly missing a hail of bullets… save for a burning sensation at the back of her neck. With her hooves, Velvet brought a piece of her mane into view and grimaced at the punctured, blackened locks.

“I'll lay down suppressive fire!” called out a stallion's voice from outside the train. “Flank around and capture her!”

Velvet shot her head up for a peek. She caught a glimpse of a pegasus stallion flying beside the train. Another burst of rounds from his assault rifle sent her cradling on the floor with a yelp, dropping the notebook from her mouth. Gritting her teeth, she grasped the notebook with one of her front hooves and crawled towards the door.

Sweat trickled from her hooves. The door was only a few yards away.

It jostled. Muffled shouting leaked through it.

“Damn it! They're at the other side!”

Without a second thought, Velvet got up and threw open the door to one of the bathrooms. Maybe she could hide here and wait for the goons in the car to leave.

The trail of bullets hitting the floor mere inches away told her she'd been spotted.

So much for waiting them out.

Velvet slammed the door shut and locked it with her magic. Just after the tumblers clicked into place, a thought flashed in Velvet's mind, causing her to put a hoof onto her face and groan.

"Way to go, Velvet! You just trapped yourself here! How are you going to get out now?"

Her eyes darted around. Her heart raced. There's gotta be a vent, a window, a mousehole…anything!

The light bulb above her flickered, literally and figuratively.

The bulb squeaked and sparked as Velvet twisted it out of the socket. Darkness flooded the bathroom, only to make way for a small, brilliant purple glow. Velvet wrung her mind dry scanning for every possible mathematical shortcut. She couldn't screw up, or her one ticket out would blow up in her face.

The door banged repeatedly.

"Come on, come on, come on!"

A cerise infusion of sparks and clouds materialized in the light bulb. The doorknob rattled. Velvet cupped the lightbulb in her hooves and steeled herself. This time, she would be the one dishing out the surprises.

That is, if she didn't zap herself in the process.

"Here's the pitch…"

The door swung open. Light drenched the bathroom. Velvet was greeted by the muzzle of an assault rifle.

The mare behind it never got to pull the trigger.

Velvet's curveball showered a cloud of electricity, glass, and noxious gases onto the three goons at the door. They dropped to the ground, screaming and coughing. Without a second thought, Velvet leaped out of the bathroom, trampling on a goon's face on the way out as she held onto the notebook with her mouth. The gases stung her eyes as she ran out the door and closed it behind her with her magic.

Nopony was on their seats. As Velvet cantered down the dining car and transferred the notebook from her mouth to her telekinesis, the passengers hiding under the tables stared at her.

“Yeah, I know what you're thinking,” Velvet said, the shaking in her voice betraying her confident facade. “The afternoon commute sucks, doesn't it?”

That was when a bullet grazed her cheek. A small trickle of blood dripped from Velvet's face, before plopping onto the ground.

This time, Velvet joined the other passengers in screaming. Her ears folded back. She slid behind one of the empty dining booths, another bullet hitting the seat behind her.

“Come out, you bitch!” Sadism dripped from a youthful mare's voice. “I haven't penetrated a mare before!”

Velvet peeked out, only to yank her head back into cover when the bright yellow earth pony fired another shot. A stinging pain flooded Velvet's face. After touching her cheek, Velvet saw that a small patch on her hoof was now painted scarlet.

"Screw this!"

She transferred the notebook to her hoof and popped out. A knife on the table took on a purple glow and sailed toward Velvet's attacker.

The gunmare flinched, the blade tumbling past her ears. She took aim again, only to dodge another thrown knife, then a soup spoon. A grin spread across her face as she looked behind at the cutlery carving onto the car's walls.

“Did you just try to kill me with a spoon—”

A dinner plate shattered on her face.

Shouting her lungs dry, Velvet tackled her assailant and slammed her hooves into the gunmare's head. The adrenaline surged through her body and shoved the gunmare's angry protests from her mind. It didn't take long for Velvet to lose count of each swing. She only stopped when a black shape caught the corner of her eye.

The pegasus stallion cocked his rifle.

Velvet's eyes widened. She retreated under a table, a trail of bullet holes tailing her. As she huddled and fought to slow her breathing, the doors on both sides rattled. The sound of breaking hinges followed.

“We've got you cornered!” a familiar voice called out. “Make this easy on yourself!”

The hoofsteps shook Velvet's core. There was only one way out.

But it'd drain my magic reserves!

Somepony pulled on her tail. Velvet looked down at it, a fog of green magic enveloping the locks.

Velvet growled. Her horn lit into a swirl of purple magic. She strained and grit her teeth.

A bright flash engulfed her.





Velvet pressed a hoof on her head, then shook her head to clear out the slight pressing headache and stop her eyes from spinning. The carpet gave her clammy hooves some warmth, but it did nothing to address the underlying cause.

"Oh bad... Oh bad, oh bad, oh bad, oh bad!" Velvet's voice was a scream suppressed into a wavering whisper. Didn't want to attract the attention of any thugs that could be nearby. "This is messed up. This is so messed up! Why is this happening to me?"

She scoped the car she had just teleported into. The rows of doors and the lack of seats told her she was in one of the sleeping cars. The red oak doors joined the warm yellow of the sun's rays to cast a welcoming atmosphere in the hall.

None of this did anything to wipe off the cold sweat on Velvet's shaking legs as she cantered her way down the car, only stopping to catch her breath. It was less than the entire length of the train, but Velvet felt like she had run a marathon—a marathon where the other racers and the ponies at the bleachers were shooting at her with machine guns all because of a notebook.

"Shit... Gotta...gotta get out of here."

Opening the door to the baggage car, the air-conditioned zephyr swirled around her, followed by a humid, heady heat.

End of the line.

Velvet locked the door and set the notebook on a nearby suitcase. Squeezing and grunting, she shoved a crate twice her height in front of the door. Her eyes surveyed her surroundings, then the skylight. Had to keep a lookout for that rifle-wielding pegasus.

He wasn't there, thank Celestia. In fact, no one else was here, not even the guard from last night. The only sounds were the rattling of the wheels and the synchronized jostling of the cargo. Velvet slumped to a nearby wall, heaving as her strained muscles tasted a sliver of rest. The pain from her cheek wound had dulled, but some Pinot Noir to numb the pain entirely—and take her mind off the entire debacle—would really hit the spot.

“Okay, okay," Velvet tried to psyche herself up. "I suppose I could sit here and wait them out...or until the security guards can get things under control.”

She mentally slapped herself in the face and began to pace aimlessly around the cargo hold. 

"Don't be an idiot." Her face wrinkled into a grimace upon remembering how she put herself in this Celestia-damned position in the first place. 

"Okay, don't be more of an idiot. There's no waiting out the storm. Those guys will find me here eventually, and they're packing enough heat to turn the guards into mincemeat."

A red shape crossing Velvet's peripheral vision put the brakes on her pacing. Evy didn't need any words to suggest one last desperate course of action. "If I'm getting out," huffed out Velvet, "I'll have to find my own way out."

Her next destination was the large door on the side of the car. A brisk trot later, however, caused her to grimace and to put her hooves to her head.

"Damn it! It's locked!"

Velvet slumped to the floor once again. She knew her motorcycle inside and out. She'd created a way to communicate to Night Light using nothing but a TV and a mirror. Hell, she'd even managed to create stun grenades from a lightbulb—no small feat, especially since she'd never been in a fight more intense than a verbal argument with some former friends. 

But locked doors? An enigma for the ages. Velvet could never figure those out—not back in college, not in her parents' old lab, nowhere. After trying and failing lock-picking so many times, she eventually told herself that she would never need to use it.

Velvet put her head on the floor and sighed.

"So much for being less of an idiot." 

For several seconds, Velvet lay alone in the baggage car, the vibration of the train's wheels not even registering in her brain. Her mind was beginning to simmer down. If she couldn't escape, at least she could have a few moments to herself before the inevitable occurred and she was kidnapped.

Velvet recalled the adrenaline surging through her blood vessels during the chase, shaking her head at the thought. Thrill was always good, hence her close friendship with Evy and the occasional motocross during vacations. But to experience the same feelings in an honest-to-Celestia life-and-death situation? 

The hell's the matter with you? Velvet snorted. You nearly died several times, and here you are being nostalgic about it!

Seeking a distraction from her internal conflict, Velvet turned her attention to the notebook's stained cover. She'd been holding the notebook for so long that she almost forgot her hoof muscles had been tensed around it for several minutes straight. Maybe she should've left it on the floor in Vanhoover. That would've saved her an entire train's worth of trouble.

Her mouth let out a pained, almost crazed laugh, then a sigh. “I don't know what kind of shady shit you and your owner must have gone through,” Velvet breathed out. “If I ever get out of this, let's hope you'll more than make up for the lifelong therapy.”

This wasn't how she imagined the last leg of her trip to play out, but hey, at least she could safely say her life was no longer stuck in a rut—by a given definition of “safely,” anyway.

A brilliant flash of green light burst into the room from Velvet's side, her shadow casting across the car as she turned around.

A pair of brown eyes greeted her.

“You think you're the only unicorn here who knows how to teleport?”

He shot a downwards hammer punch into Velvet's snout.
> Chapter 5: Train Car Tussle
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why couldn't you have just minded your own business?

You…you just killed somepony and you're treating it like it was nothing!

What would Night Light say if he saw you now?

Twilight Velvet was in a haze of questions and regrets. Ever since the stallion had clocked her in the head, she'd been forced into a tour of her subconscious. Every single thought and piece of introspection she had pushed into the back of her mind was coming back to her.

Why was she so possessive of that notebook anyway? Sure, the thugs attacking her—not to mention the original owner's findings on one of Meadowbrook the Fourth's ancient items—confirmed what Velvet already knew: she had stumbled onto something big. 

But the dull pain from her now-bloodied nose reminded her of the heavy price tag latched onto her big scoop.

Look at what you've just sunk into! Blood was already on your hooves, and just because you wanted to read a damn book!

The cloaked mare's contorted, anguished expression replayed in Velvet's mind. Her convulsing body, her eyes rolling back into her head—Velvet shut her eyes, trying to banish the image from her subconscious. Things like motocross were one thing, but ponies actually dying—and being responsible for their deaths—was another can of worms.

Velvet pursed her lips and sighed. All she wanted to do was to close her eyes and wait for the part where the hero rescues the damsel in distress.

She waved herself off with a hoof. Nopony was going to save her. Stuff like that only happens in cliched movies.

The gray void began to fade. The faint silhouettes of ponies came into view, followed by the edges and angles of the boxes of the train's cargo. A slight tremor coursed through her body, sensation returning to her extremities.

The jacket-wearing stallion had his back turned as he spoke into a walkie-talkie, a nearby unicorn stallion sending magic flowing to the jacketed stallion's now-bandaged foreleg. Velvet turned her head to the left and folded her ear.

“Fifty-thousand bits? I…don't know what to say.”

A mare's voice chattered back through the radio.

“Yes, Volt. Canterlot it is. See you there…and thanks for the raise.”

As the stallion turned the knob on the walkie-talkie, Velvet surveyed the thugs in the car. Aside from the jacketed stallion, there were three shadowy figures. They were too far for Velvet to make out… that is, until one of them turned to face her.

“She's awake.”

The jacketed stallion also turned to face Velvet. “Take care of her for me, will you? I still have to brief the mules at the front.”

The shadowy figures began to walk towards Velvet. Her horn sputtered and sparked. Magic dripped from its tip while electricity arced across the surface.

The spell fizzled out.

Slamming her eyes shut, Velvet strained and grunted several times, but her horn refused to release anything more than a flicker. Why couldn't her magic recharge faster?

The shadowy figures towered over Velvet. The first one's mane was just as ruffled as Velvet's. Blood ran from her nose and dripped from her chin, and a dark reddish purple surrounded her bloodshot eyes. Her gleaming, but disconcerting smile sent a tingle on Velvet's spine. 

“Aw, look here!” a familiar mare's voice resounded through the baggage car. “Did your choo-choo train run out of steam?”

Velvet said nothing.

“Nothing a little percussive maintenance can't fix!”

The mare coiled her leg. Velvet closed her eyes, bracing herself for the kick.

“Hey hey,” the second figure chided. She deflected the bright yellow mare's leg with her own, the assault rifle rattling as it hung from its strap. “Easy there, Wild Card. She's had enough. Besides, Volt wants to have a talk with our friend here—see how much she knows.”

“And when did she say that?!”

“Couple of minutes ago. Seriously, try listening to your radio sometime.”

Wild Card retracted and staggered away with a huff, holding a hoof to the bruises on her head. “But I get dibs on her after Volt. Deal? Can't wait to show this filly how to punch like a real mare.”

“Be my guest. Just don't do anything…explosive. You know how clingy Birdshot is with the grenades.”

“I can't make any promises!”

“Of course you can't.”

The assault riflemare nodded to the third figure—the unicorn stallion from earlier. He forced Velvet into a bipedal stance with his magic, dizziness swirling in her brain as her hind legs trembled from being forced into an unfamiliar posture. He then stood on two legs and trapped her forelegs in a hug, his tan fatigues scratching her sweaty fur. Blood snaked from Velvet's nose and down her neck. Fighting the urge to cough, her mouth quivered into a smile.

If this was it for her, she might as well enjoy herself.

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or do you just like your mares roughened up?”

Her captor grumbled as he whipped out a small revolver and pointed it at her head.

Guess that answered that question.

After glancing at Velvet and her captor, the jacketed stallion adjusted the frequency of his radio and put his ear towards its speaker. “Ironsides, come in,” he said. “We've retrieved the notebook. I don't think there's anyone else on the train. You can stop scouting the rest of the train, over.”

He let go of the button on the radio, but kept his eyes and ears pointed at it.

“Ironsides, do you copy?”

“Of course not,” said the pony with the rifle. “This is Ironsides we're talking about. He never replies on time. Why, he's probably—”

A loud metallic boom echoed from the ceiling. Clouds of dust drifted downwards as everypony in the car flinched and looked up, Velvet included. The stallion holding her reasserted his grip and pressed the muzzle of his pistol further into her neck, causing Velvet to freeze.

“Son of a broodmare!” swore Wild Card. “What was that?”

The radio crackled to life. As the jacketed stallion fumbled the radio and leaned towards it, Velvet could hear another stallion groan from the speaker, the wind howling as the train picked up speed. The jacketed stallion brought his ear closer to the speaker as his colleagues stared at the device.

“Ironsides, what's going on?!”

Ironsides let out a couple of pained breaths. “She…” he tried to say before his voice trailed off. “She's here! I have a v—”

An ear-piercing snap cut Ironsides off. The jacketed stallion recoiled, clutching his ear. Velvet looked through the skylight, her eyes catching what looked like a cord of rope bisecting the view. Ironsides' screams suppressed the sound of his body being yanked across the roof of the car, translated into real noise by a cascade of thuds across the ceiling. Despite that, Velvet thought she heard railroad signals clanging in the background.

The next few moments seemed to pass slowly for Velvet. The signals went from faint to deafening in less than a second, drowning out all the other noises coming from the speaker. From Velvet's worm's-eye-view, the silhouette of Ironsides' body collided with the silhouette of a signal. The cord unwrapped from his hoof as the collision propelled Ironsides' body through the skylight.

Glass shattering—a real sound, not one filtered through a radio—diverted all the thugs' attention to the skylight above. As everypony dove to the floor and reflexively shielded their faces from the falling glass, Ironsides crashed into several crates, turning them to splinters.

Velvet had slammed her eyes shut and curled into a ball to avoid the shards of glass. Only when she opened her eyes again did she notice that her captor was no longer holding her, but was standing right beside her and staring at the pegasus stallion's body along with the other thugs. Apparently, they were just as surprised as she was.

“Now's your chance! Get outta here!” the rational part of Velvet's mind screamed.

But Velvet didn't run. Immobilized into stunned silence, she stayed on the floor, also staring at Ironsides' body sprawled on the wooden debris. What...just...happened?

Another crash, this time right beside Velvet. Her former captor disappeared in a cloud of dust and splinters. Velvet shouted and scampered away into a pile of suitcases behind a towering crate, a light, gold feather crossing her vision.

Wait, feathers? But I was captured by a unicorn, not a pegasus.

As the dust cleared, Velvet gaped. She could finally see her former captor again. Velvet's eyes traced the thug's sprawled legs to his body, then to his head, which had sunken into a small crater on the floorboards. His pistol had flown from his hooves and to the floor beside Velvet. While she could have tried to pick it up, she didn't have the knowledge, let alone will, to use a gun. That, and her mind was too occupied with the pony standing on her former captor's skull.

The yellow afternoon sun showered on the golden angel as her striped gray locks danced around her dark green shirt. Dust sparkled around as the angel outstretched her wings, stood on her hind legs, and opened her gleaming, rosy eyes. She flourished her weapons: a bloodied mythical blade of old and a length of cord snaking from her hoof, down her back, and touching the floor.





"Oh, there's the climax," Velvet muttered to herself.

She joined the thugs in their immobilized silence. After processing what had just transpired, she nudged the pistol towards the Whipcracking Crusader with the little bit of magic she had left. After a quizzical look at her unlikely donor, the Whipcracking Crusader sheathed her trowel and stepped on the handle of the pistol. Her eyes focused on it as it flipped into the air and she caught it with her hooves.

“All aboard the pain train.”

Flashy, athletic, and a corny sense of humor—she must get a lot of stallions...

The stallion in the tan jacket was the first to shoot. The golden pegasus barely flinched as she swung her whip, causing the thugs to duck. Her hoof was quick to the trigger. The assault riflepony screamed, then dropped to the floor.

Jacketed Stallion immediately fired several shots. Velvet grunted as the pegasus took cover beside her and shoved her in the chest.

Celestia must have sent her one of those impure bargain bin angels.

A cacophony of gunfire and curses filled the background as Velvet and the Crusader stared into each other's eyes. The golden pegasus's rose-colored irises pushed all other thoughts to the back of Velvet's mind.

This was it. This was finally her.

“You…” Velvet stammered, “you're the—”

“Here, hold this!” Velvet felt the leather of the whip chafe her fur as it was dumped on her arms. Its owner didn't even face Velvet. She just turned back to the thugs and blind-fired five shots, then recoiled back into cover as assault rifle fire filled the room, accompanied by manic laughter.

No question on who that was.

“First time?” the golden pegasus shouted to Velvet.

“No shit!”

“Why do I even ask?”

The golden pegasus looked upwards.

“Wait here,” she said as she started to climb the crate, then pointed to the whip on Velvet's lap. “You know how to use that, right?”

“Sure, like I know how to fly!”

“Figure it out on your own then, all right?” The pegasus continued her ascent before reaching the ceiling and disappearing down the top of the box.

Definitely bargain bin angel.

Velvet unfurled the whip and grasped the handle with two hooves. She could make this work, right?

The jacketed stallion stepped into view. Velvet froze.

“What the—” He lowered his gun. “Where did—”

Looking back and gritting her teeth, Velvet swung her arms upward. No crack, but there was a hiss of pain. She opened her eyes to the stallion turning around and clutching his face as blood trickled from his hooves.

Hey, I'm getting the hang of this.

She swung the whip again. A stinging pain at her temple caused her to seethe and drop the whip.

Or not.

It was only then that she realized that the gunfire had stopped seconds before. What was Wild Card doing?

Velvet peeked out of cover. She bit her lip. Wild Card, now wielding her downed colleague's assault rifle, held the weapon by the hip.

“Finally! Cat meets mouse!”

An ear-to-ear smirk spread on the bright yellow mare's face. Her eye twitched.

The angel descended upon her.

The golden pegasus shoved Wild Card's rifle to the side. She grasped the rifle with her hooves, slammed it repeatedly on Wild Card's face, and twisted it upside down. Velvet gaped as the golden pegasus whirled the thug and her rifle around in an armlock. Shots rang out. A bullet ricocheted and sailed near Velvet's eyes, causing her to cower into the floor.

Another burst of rounds followed. The jacketed stallion, still clutching his eye, collapsed.

Grunting, the golden pegasus jerked the gun downwards, but Wild Card held her grip.

“Not today!” growled Wild Card.

She thrust the stock into the golden pegasus's chest, then followed with an overhand punch. The golden pegasus staggered back. The thug fumbled through her rifle and lined up the sights. Velvet held her breath.

Regaining her footing, the golden pegasus unsheathed her blade and charged into her opponent, a bloodcurdling roar echoing through the baggage car. Velvet couldn't keep track of the rain of slashes. A deep red stained Wild Card's tan shirt before the golden pegasus grappled her by the neck and threw her to the floor, punctuating each of the thug's screams with stab after stab.

The door behind Velvet swung open. She retreated back into cover as two ponies ran past her, guns trained at the attention of the golden pegasus.

“Don't move!” one of them shouted. “Hold it right—”

Velvet cracked the whip again. One gunpony flinched, clutching his temple. His partner jerked his head to the right and aimed at Velvet.

Gunfire interrupted him.

There was no scream of pain. Just the sound of casings pinging on the floorboards. One of the stallions collapsed in front of Velvet, a blank gaze on his face and red seeping through his shirt.

Struggling with her shaking legs. Velvet got up and surveyed the scene. Blood dripped from the trowel's sharpened blade. It glistened under the light beams piercing the now non-existent skylight and shining onto the seven bodies sprawled on the floor. Wild Card let out a couple of gurgles, her neck and chest trembling as the golden pegasus turned her eyes towards her.

As if on command, the thug closed her eyes and stopped moving.

Mere seconds ago, Velvet had already resigned herself to be captured by this mob…gang…terrorist group…whatever the hell these shady figures were.

And now Celestia had sent a guardian angel to help her. An irreverent, violent angel, but hey, Velvet wasn't complaining. This was her kind of angel.

“Where's my whip?” The pegasus turned to Velvet as she sheathed her trowel and slung the rifle over her back. Velvet retrieved the whip from their hiding place and levitated it to the pegasus.

“And the notebook?”

The catalyst—Velvet had almost forgotten about it. Not to mention her riddle. She raised a hoof. “Who created—”

“Mage Meadowbrook the Fourth. Eastern Unicon responsible for Eight Enchanted Items.”

Velvet's hoof was frozen in mid-air.

“Yup, you're the one.”

Velvet levitated the notebook from where she had left it and gave it to the pegasus, who simply tucked it into a pocket in her shirt without even facing Velvet. As the pegasus made her way to the door, Velvet tailed her, causing the former to look back and quirk an eyebrow.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“What, you think I'm just going to sit here and take credit for your work when the cops show up? Besides, my seat is in coach class.”

The pegasus grumbled as she glanced downwards.

“Fine. But stick with me. I don't know how many of those guys are still around.”

The pegasus got on her hind legs and drew her rifle. She held her breath. Her eyes were focused at the door; her hooves, light on their steps.

As they made their way through the next sleeper cars, Velvet looked at the doors lining the hall. Some were closed; some were open, but empty; some held ponies huddling in their beds, giving Velvet either curious or frightened eyes as she passed by.

The rest of the trip back to coach class was relatively uneventful. The golden pegasus had since slung the rifle over her back and assumed the more natural four-legged gait, Velvet following behind. The train was a flurry of broken glass and windows. Passengers stayed cowering under their seats, some of whom stared at the duo. Velvet would return their stares, and they in turn would retreat into the darkness.

Velvet passed by one unicorn mare huddling on the floor, cradling a stallion in her trembling bloodstained hooves. The stallion's eyes were closed, and the sucking wound on his chest glowed blue along with the mare's horn. Outside, the mare's face showed no apparent emotion, but Velvet could see the slightest twitch on the mare's eyebrows and the shimmer of fresh tears on her eyes. Though they'd been battered minutes ago by the sound of gunfire, Velvet's ears managed to pick up the mare whispering various incantations—vaguely recognizable as first aid magic.

Velvet looked away. There were probably many other ponies like that bloodied mare. She couldn't bear to look anypony else in the eye. Not when she was responsible for roping them all in this madness.

Maybe her savior would be willing to talk. “So,” Velvet turned to the golden pegasus. “I don't think I quite caught your name.”

There was no answer.

“Fine, I'll go first. Name's Twilight Velvet!”

Velvet extended a hoof. The pegasus didn't even turn around.

“Wow, you really are a mare of few words.”

“I'm surprised you don't know my name.” The pegasus finally spoke. “‘Bestselling book in contemporary Equestrian literature?’ Doesn't that ring a bell?”

Velvet snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Heard of 'em. Never read 'em. What, you the main character brought to life via magic?”

The pegasus rolled her eyes. “It's...hard to explain.”

“That big of a deal, huh? Isn't that all the more reason to tell me who you are and what your stake in all this chaos is?”

“I'd rather you didn't know.”

“Listen, I'd really like to thank you properly for saving me and all, and I can't do that if you don't tell me your name.”

The pegasus opened her mouth to speak.

A thud. The lavatory door at the end of the aisle swung open. The pegasus reared, then maintained a bipedal stance. Her wings reflexively spread outwards, knocking Velvet to the floor.

Proper introductions would have to wait.

Out stepped a unicorn mare, a crooked smile plastered on her face as she unsheathed a knife from her belt.

The pegasus was quick to the trigger.

Ping! 

One of Velvet's ears twitched. She may not have been a gunslinger like the pegasus, but that was definitely not a sound that was supposed to come out of a gun. The pegasus's eyes widening to the size of hubcaps confirmed her inner musings. That, and the fact that the unicorn mare wasn't bleeding on the floor.

The pegasus cocked the gun back and inspected the chamber.

“Dammit, a double-feed!”

She tossed the gun away and assumed a fighting stance, raising her front hooves to chest level. The gun smashed through one of the windows and disappeared.

The knife-wielding mare twirled her blade in a glittering flourish, light sparking off the serrated edge. Her whole body moved, twisted, and spun as she twirled the knife from hoof to hoof in a display of acrobatic showmanship, then brought it around in a series of sharp, geometric movements. The weapon seemed to blur and flow before crystallizing at each point in the figure the mare described. It was almost dizzying. The thug's satisfied chuckle, not to mention the angel's grimace, caused Velvet's eyes to lock onto the two ponies. Two knife fighters face to face. Who would come out on top in this test of agility, finesse, technique, tenacity, strength, honor, and—

The angel kicked her in the compass rose.

With a guttural squeal, the thug keeled over and dropped her knife, whimpering for a few seconds before the angel socked her on the head with a downwards punch.

The golden pegasus dropped to all fours and turned to Velvet. The Canterlot unicorn's mouth hung open: not so much because she had seen and done more violence in a single afternoon than she did in the past twenty-three years of her life, but because after seeing what the golden pegasus did with the whip and the ceiling and that railroad signal, Velvet expected something more…elaborate.

“Filly, what are you doing on the floor?” The golden pegasus asked as she extended a hoof towards Velvet. “You okay?”

Velvet shook her head to recalibrate her senses. “Yeah. My life is turning into an over-the-top action movie before my eyes, but other than that, I'm okay.”

Taking the golden pegasus's hoof, Velvet got up and dusted herself.

“That's enough fighting for now, don't you think?”

“No shit. It was getting old.”

Velvet fixed the curl of her mane at the back of her neck. Perhaps now would be a good enough time to reflect on the lows she had sunk into. There was a particularly stubborn lock, so Velvet turned her head to the side.

A pegasus with a shotgun glanced the corner of her vision.

“Duck!”

Velvet shoved the golden pegasus's head downwards. A boom echoed through the coach car, drowning out the screams of passengers. Windows shattered around Velvet and the pegasus as debris rained on them.

“Crap! What the hell is this?!” Velvet shouted to the sky. "Who pissed in your cereal, Celestia?!"

The golden pegasus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

A cylindrical object bounced from the table and rolled on the ground. The golden pegasus took to the air, grabbed Velvet, and flapped as far as she could from the grenade.

Choking white smoke hurled through the cabin. Screams gave way to coughs. The golden pegasus had to land; Velvet figured she couldn't see through the haze.

“Stay here!” The golden pegasus set Velvet onto one of the seats, then unfurled her whip. “I'll take care of our party crasher!”

Velvet watched the golden pegasus walk into the smoke until she was just a silhouette in a sea of white. Assuming a fighting stance on two legs, the golden pegasus jumped at every sound that wasn't the hissing of the smoke grenade or the coughing of other passengers.

Barely half a minute in, the golden pegasus had disappeared. Velvet was alone in the crowd of coughing passengers; her only ally was nowhere to be seen. She slowly extended a hoof to the white void, hoping for a response.

"Hello?"

A window shattered. A larger silhouette flew into the car. Velvet cowered into her seat. 

"Hello, darling!" the shotgunner called out. "Remember me? It's your old pal, Birdshot! Like my present?!"

No one answered. "Shame! Plainclothes ponies like me rarely get to play with the explosives!" Birdshot began a slow creep down the aisle, checking every seat. "Consider that smoke grenade a rare find. Maybe your friend is a little more appreciative?"

The shotgun-wielding mare stopped, then glanced to her rear. "She's right behind me, isn't she?" 

Birdshot twirled around and pointed her weapon at Velvet. “Who's it gonna be, huh? You, or the unicorn you're babysit–“

A snap echoed through the cabin, a leather cord wrapping itself around the shotgun. Before either Velvet or the thug could react, the golden pegasus yanked her whip backwards, swiping the gun from the thug's grip. The gun clattered on the carpet, and the golden pegasus jumped to procure it.

She may have been quick on the trigger, but pouncing was another thing.

Before the golden pegasus could reach the gun, the shotgunner leaped onto the golden pegasus and pinned her to the floor. The golden pegasus dodged two of the thug's punches, only for the third to meet its mark.

The golden pegasus grunted. A pair of hooves wrapped around her neck, causing her to choke and wheeze.

“Oh, I love this position! I should've performed this back in that Vanhoover hotel!” The shotgunner growled and licked her lips. “What's the matter?! Don't you want another present?!”

The golden pegasus thrust a hoof into Birdshot's neck. She gagged, releasing her grip from the golden pegasus. The latter backed away and sent a barrage of kicks to Birdshot's stomach, sending her to the floor. After the golden pegasus massaged her now-reddened neck and Birdshot writhed on the ground, both mares scrambled to their hind hooves and glared into each other's eyes.

“Don't go!” Birdshot coughed out as she pulled out an oval grenade from her belt and primed it. “I've got a pineapple with your name on—”

The golden pegasus tackled the mad bomber and pinned her onto one of the seats. Two overhand punches to the face later, the golden mare snatched the grenade from Birdshot's hoof and hurled it out the window.

Even though it was outside, the explosion shook Velvet's core. Shrapnel perforated the windows and walls, giving them an extreme refurbishing. Passengers near the holes backed away, screaming in terror. Something hot lodged into Velvet's mane. Her eyes widened even after she yanked the piece of shrapnel out of her mane with her magic and patted the heat out.

Holy crap! That was close! Hopefully nopony else had it worse…

Whatever the case, it barely shook the two fighters.

The smoke began to clear. Birdshot kicked the golden pegasus's left hind leg. The pegasus staggered backwards. Seizing the opportunity, the thug got up and landed a left hook on the golden pegasus. She wrapped her right arm over the golden pegasus's neck and trapped her in a headlock. The golden pegasus grunted and grappled Birdshot's arms, stepping to keep her balance.

All the while, Velvet watched. Her hooves squeezed the edge of her seat.

The golden pegasus swung her right hoof onto Birdshot's stomach. The thug screamed, only to be silenced by a hoof covering her face. In a single motion, the pegasus escaped the headlock and slammed Birdshot's body to the floor. Preparing to mount on Birdshot's body, the golden pegasus raised a hoof to deliver a sucker punch to the thug's face.

Birdshot liked to aim low. She threw a kick towards the golden pegasus's left knee before she could crouch. The golden pegasus's body jerked, then she fell face first to the floor. Free from her adversary's clutches, Birdshot backed away and took to the air. The golden pegasus stood up to face her.

She got a hoof to the face instead. Her helmet jostled backwards.

A glassy daze on her eyes, the golden pegasus spun around, allowing Birdshot to lift her from behind and wrap her forelegs around her neck.

“Ah yes, just like back in Vanhoover!” Birdshot declared. The golden pegasus tried to reach for the trowel in its sheath, but Birdshot's grip and thrashing around avoided such interventions. “Shame. I was hoping you'd go out with a bang!”

Meanwhile, Velvet continued watching from the seats, barely moving a muscle.

“You!” Her voice straining, the golden pegasus reached out a hoof towards Velvet. “Get outta here! I…got this!”

Velvet placed a hoof on the aisle. The back of her mind pushed her to the door, but her front legs dug into the carpet. She watched the golden pegasus's face turn blue, her thrashing resistance beginning to subside.

Something clicked in Velvet's mind. Stop running! Make yourself useful, dammit!

Velvet's horn sputtered. A small sliver of magic sent a tingle to her brain.

“Finally! Time for Round two!”

Velvet steadied her horn at Birdshot, holding her breath to reduce sway. The two pegasi's erratic movements didn't make this easier. The slightest jar, and Velvet would hit her savior. Take too long to aim, and there wouldn't be a savior to return the favor to.

The golden pegasus's eyes rolled up her head.

No time to gather current. Any shot was better than none.

An unholy crackling sound filled the air. Velvet reflexively slammed her eyes shut. Sweat trickled down her face.

What she saw when she opened her eyes caused her to grimace.

Why are you still flying?!

Something else caught her eye. Birdshot's grenade belt—cerise electricity snaked through it until it met a stout stick grenade. It took on a violet luminescence and began to rumble.

Velvet didn't know what she did, but it certainly wasn't going to end peacefully.

“Fire in the hole!” Velvet shouted.

The fighters stopped shaking. Birdshot looked at Velvet, inadvertently loosening her choke.

The golden pegasus gasped for breath. Before Birdshot could reassert her grip, the golden pegasus shoved Birdshot's foreleg forward and bit down. The thug cried in pain, then winced when the golden pegasus shoved a back leg into her groin. The golden pegasus then yanked Birdshot's legs out of the way and delivered a good buck to her stomach.

Birdshot tumbled to the front of the car. She smashed into an open lavatory door and fell to the floor. Velvet pulled the golden pegasus into one of the seats just as Birdshot stood up. Her eyebrows creased and her mouth agape, she looked at the sputtering sparking grenade, then at Velvet.

“Oh fuck me–“

She disappeared.

The explosion drowned out every sound, including the passengers' screams. Dust and wood swirled through the cabin. The front part of the car crumbled and collapsed.

When the smoke cleared, Velvet stepped to the aisle and walked towards the pile of debris. Where Birdshot once stood, a puddle of red seeped into the blackened carpet, the twisted remains of the lavatory door and wall sparing Velvet's eyes from the carnage.

Grinding slowly to a halt, the train trembled under Velvet's hooves. The mangled end of the first class car began to leave the coach cars behind, the coupler dragging through the rails and kicking up gravel. Specks of red were splattered on walls and floors of the next car, perhaps more so than in the one Velvet was in. Several seconds later, the hissing of automatic brakes brought both ends of the train to a stop.

Velvet turned to the sound of shuffling from behind, catching the golden pegasus approaching the rubble as the passengers slowly stood up to see the destruction. The golden pegasus pointed a hoof at the red puddle and faced Velvet.

"And there's a real climax."

The tingling of adrenaline surged through Velvet's brain. Just hours before, she had been staring at a notebook, desperate to shake things up in her writing.

A small chuckle escaped her mouth. That notebook more than shook things up.

And by Celestia, it felt good.

“So”—Velvet faced the golden pegasus, panting like a mare in heat—“when do we schedule the encore?”

The pegasus merely glared at Velvet and let out a low grumble.

“All right, I got the hint.”

The golden pegasus then took Velvet by the withers. “C'mon. You've seen enough. Where's your seat?”

Velvet pointed to an empty seat behind her. “Right there, actually.”

“Oh, convenient.” The pegasus walked Velvet over to the seat, then took her whip from the floor and slung it over her withers.

As the golden pegasus started down the car, Velvet puffed out a long breath. There was a slight buzz in her brain—the dissonant, yet pleasant euphoria hadn't left her. She would be lying if she denied deriving at least one modicum of enjoyment from the spectacle. Take away the very real threat of death and the collateral damage, and the whole experience would have been better than bungee jumping off Luna Bay. Maybe her prior "nostalgia" was something to be embraced rather than be ashamed about...

Whatever the case, the mystery behind the golden pegasus's identity couldn't stay a mystery. If there was anything more that Velvet wanted at the moment than the high of adrenaline, it was answers.

“Wait." Velvet turned and extended a hoof towards the golden pegasus.

“What?”

“About your name…”

“No.”

“Hey, show some gratitude to the mare who saved your notebook…and your ass.”

The pegasus raised a hoof to protest, but the words stopped themselves in her mouth. She glanced at the floor, then put her hoof down.

“I suppose there's no point in hiding. You've seen how I operate, and you probably read my notebook already.”

Standing on her two legs, the golden pegasus fixed the collar of her shirt, straightened her pith helmet, coiled the whip, and holstered it. The late afternoon sun beamed from the windows, enhancing the creases on her shirt and casting a yellow glow on Celestia's guardian angel.

“The name's Daring Do.”
> Chapter 6: Off the Rails
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The New Friendship Express had coasted to a stop in the middle of the Equestrian countryside, its coach and first-class cars decoupled from the rest of the train in a smoking, twisted mass of metal and wood. A crowd of ponies wandered outside the train like sheep, the surviving security guards herding the passengers into clusters while medics tried their best to patch up the wounded. With the guards' numbers thinned out in the gunfight minutes before, however, the other crew members had to do double duty. It was a good thing none of the passengers were killed…and that crazed gunmares didn't count as passengers.

Sitting on a rock far from everypony else, Twilight Velvet allowed the wind to flap her mane and separate it into white and purple strands, her saddlebags flattening the grass beside her. She dabbed a tissue at her bloodied nose and tossed it aside. Though her magical capacity had recovered in the past several minutes, her horn was still throbbing in time with her headache, every muscle ached, and her eyes were having a hard time focusing. Somehow though, she was sporting the biggest grin of her life.

Was there brain damage? Probably…but she'd have to worry about that later.

Her eyes drifted to Canterlot, the mountain it was perched on looming over the countryside. It wasn't far. She could reach the city limits by motorcycle in around two hours, plus another twenty minutes snaking through the streets to get to her condominium. All she had to do was get cleaned up, buy some magic regenerative cream for her cheek wound, pray to Celestia the police wouldn't come looking for her, and she could leave it all in the past. Now that the notebook was back with its rightful owner, it wasn't like she could obtain more information on the Spectrum of Lightning…or why armed thugs would be so interested in it. The article was going to have to rely entirely on firsthoof account.

Why are things never easy?

The sound of grass crunching underhoof directed Velvet's attention to her rear. She turned to the source of the noise: a sienna mare rolling a bright red motorcycle towards the rock. The mare's cornflower blue uniform, a collared blouse with a translucent skirt, accentuated the bounce in her behind—a better identifier than anything else. Velvet hopped off the rock, approached the attendant, and took Evy by the handlebars, giving the attendant a smile. "Thanks, bud."

The attendant looked down, trying to conceal the flush spreading through her cheeks. "Least I could do. You and your friend saved us back there."

Velvet chuckled. "'Friend?' I only met her today. I don't even know if I'll ever see her again."

"Don't discount that possibility. Friendships have to start somewhere." The blush on the attendant's cheeks had only deepened. "Friendships and...other relationships..."

But Velvet didn't return the blush. "Acutally, sorry, but–"

"I know, I know." The attendant's ears drooped as she turned away. "Your 'barn door doesn't swing that way,' I remember."

"Not just that, actually. I'm...taken. I may have the mouth of a broodmare, but there's only one stallion for me."

Velvet watched the attendant trudge back to the train, then shook her head. She cantered to the attendant and put a hoof on her withers. "But hey, maybe someday, you'll find a mare out there who's right for you."

The attendant looked up at Velvet's eyes. The blush was gone, but the smile had returned. "Thanks."

Velvet gazed at the train and the cop cars converging beside it, their red and blue beacons strobing in the distance. "So what's next for you?"

"Maybe I'll get the police off your tail—let them know you aren't a threat. You and the other pony didn't fire the first shot."

"And they'll believe you? You're just one pony after all."

The attendant straightened the collar of her uniform. "One pony is all it takes to make a difference."

Velvet snorted. "You sound like Wheat Grass." The attendant raised an eyebrow in response, prompting Velvet to clarify. "College roommate."

"I'll keep that in mind." The attendant nodded. "Anyway, good luck with...whatever it is you're doing. And for Celestia's sake, I hope it's not as explosive as this."

"I can't make any promises." Velvet gave the attendant a smirk as she started toward the train. 

Upon returning to the rock, Velvet took some pliers out of her saddlebags and leaned towards the fender of her motorcycle. Thankfully, the bullet didn't puncture the wheel, but it had embedded itself two thirds of the way through the mudguard and warped the metal surrounding it. As Velvet grasped the bullet with her pliers and jostled it out, she winced at each screech of protest the metal produced.

“Sorry, Evy, but this is for your own good!”

There was an audible clunk as the stubborn bullet finally relented. The pliers jerked backwards, and Velvet barely dodged the handles as they came dangerously close to giving her another battle scar. After dusting off the soil on her legs, Velvet got up, inspected the hole, and sighed. Evy was going to need some TLC when she got home. At least the bullet hadn't pierced through the wheel. The Rough Saddle Bikes RSB-650 was a hard bastard that lived up to the name of its manufacturer, unlike the glorified lawnmowers of yesteryear, so it was no surprise to Velvet that its mudguard could stop a bullet.

“Look at the bright side, Evy.” Velvet forced a smile. “Some bikes have bullet hole stickers; you've got the real deal.”

A gust of wind from behind swept Velvet's tail forward. Her fur stood on end. Velvet spun around.

A mare in a dark cloak, her muzzle inches from Velvet's own.

Velvet jumped. Her body hit her motorcycle, causing it to fall over onto the grass. Only when she was able to focus on the mare herself did she regain her composure.

“Dari—”

“Shh…” The pegasus quickly planted a hoof on Velvet's mouth. Velvet's eyebrows widened at first, then furrowed when the bitter taste of countryside dirt reached her brain.

“It's bad enough that some of the ponies there now know I exist because of you. Don't dig yourself deeper, kid.”

As Velvet freed her mouth and lowered Daring Do's foreleg, her eyes scanned Daring's garb. The pith helmet and the green shirt were exchanged for a purple cloak and a lumpy gray hat with a white ribbon. Red thick-rimmed glasses perched over Daring's eyes, the lack of refraction telling Velvet that they lacked a grade.

“First of all, you look like my grandmare!” Velvet hissed. “Second, what do you mean ‘know you exist?’ Are you a spy for S.M.I.L.E. or something?”

“No, S.M.I.L.E. deals with cryptids and changelings. Also, their missions aren't usually that unsubtle.” Daring readjusted her glasses and pointed to the wrecked portion of the train. "You certainly didn't help with making me more covert, though."

“So why the secrecy?”

“My line of work nets me a lot of enemies. You should know. Soon you'll have the scar to prove it.”

Velvet touched the wound on her cheek. The pain was gone, but a light breeze caused the skin around it to feel cool…in both senses of the word.

“At least I'll have one hell of a story to tell by the water cooler! Speaking of which…”

With her magic, Velvet took her notebook and a pen out of her saddlebags and levitated them in front of her. “—you mind if I ask you a few questions? I mean, standard protocol for Scientific Equestrian says that I have to introduce myself to you first, but I think we've already covered that base.”

Daring frowned, both at Velvet and at her notebook. “I don't even know why I came here to see you,” she said as she turned to leave.

“Hey, don't be like that!” chirped Velvet. “I can change names. I can leave out incriminating information. Your secret's safe with me, Supermare!” Velvet declared, gesticulating with her front leg.

There was a moment of silence between the two as the wind rustled the grass and whispered into their ears. A grumble from Daring's pursed lips broke the ice.

“Journalists…” Daring spat on the ground. “Only thing worse than fanboys.”

Not the most creative insult, not that Velvet wasn't used to it. “So, what is it you do exactly? You some kind of soldier of fortune?”

“Archeologist, actually.”

“Really?” Velvet put the back end of her pen near her mouth, raised an eyebrow, then pointed the pen at Daring. “If you're an archeologist, then I'm the doting mother of an Alicorn princess.”

“Let's not forget who made all the notes you'd swiped.”

Velvet blinked a few times and glanced at the ground.

“Touché. So, can you tell me more about where you—”

She looked up just in time to see Daring spreading her wings and turning backwards. “Anyway, nice meeting you,” she said, Velvet noting that the words were said quicker than usual. “I suppose this is the last time we'll be seeing each other, kid.”

“No, I'm coming with you.”

Daring's wings folded back as she stopped, her head turning to the side to scrutinize Velvet.

“Um...” Daring tapped her hoof to her chin. “No.”

Her smile began to fade as Velvet kept a straight face.

“Dear Celestia, you're serious, aren't you?”

“Yeah.” Velvet crossed her front legs.

“But why? You've got a death wish or something?”

A grin played its way across Velvet's muzzle. “I've never felt more alive.” She closed her eyes for a moment before breathing deeply. Finally, she opened them and stared hard into Daring's own. “Is that what it's like for you? Every day feeling like an adventure? Always on the knife's edge?”

Daring put a hoof to her face and growled through her teeth. “You can't—” Daring stomped. “I'm not a foalsitter!” She turned away from Velvet, wings rustling in agitation. “Don't be naive. It's not just armed thugs I have to contend with.” Daring extended her wings. “There's ancient death traps, undead guardians protecting said traps, artifacts that screw with your mind and body, and—”

“Pfft…”

A snicker interrupted Daring's rant. She centered her eyes on Velvet's face, a cheeky grin spreading across it.

“Say that last thing again…” Velvet said.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! I'm not messing around! Point is, it's dangerous out there.” Daring pointed at the horizon. “Go home. If it'll convince you to get off my back, fine! I'll allow you to write that article of yours. Just...try to maintain what little anonymity I can salvage from that wreck." Daring gestured at the smoldering train, then shoved a hoof at Velvet's chest.

"But you coming with me? You'll likely come home in a bodybag...if at all. You have no idea how deep the rabbit hole goes.”

"And that's exactly it!" Velvet's words stopped Daring from trying to turn away and leave. "You're right. I don't know how deep the rabbit hole is. And what better way to find out than to hop in?"

Geez, listen to yourself! Velvet scolded herself. The hell's wrong with you? And yet...no denying it... Maybe I do want dive in headfirst!

Daring's jaw hung open, then she shook her head and groaned. "Okay…okay, you're nuts. Not just naive, but nuts. Let's put it another way. You're doing this for the thrill, right? If it's thrill you want, why not ride the Wild Blue Yonder at Las Pegasus? Or go bungee jumping over Luna Bay? At least nopony will try to kill you in those places!"

Velvet slid from the rock and plopped onto the ground. "First of all, I'm not nuts. I'm crazy. Big difference. Second, I've already done all of that stuff... plus a lot more." Velvet walked over to her motorcycle and patted her front fairing. "Isn't that right, Evy?"

As Velvet continued to stroke Evy's brilliant red frame, Daring raised an eyebrow.





"Let's not get into specifics, though. She doesn't like being reminded about the Fillydelphia motocross trials." Velvet sat on the ground beside Evy. "You get my point. Motorsports and bungee jumping are one thing. But gunplay? Beating the crap out of bad guys? I don't know how to do those things yet, but I'd sure like to learn!"

Biting her lip, Daring brought one of her hooves to her face. "Twilight...is it? Even if I wanted to babysit you and I didn't work better alone, what good will letting you tag along do? You're just a journalist!" She shot a hoof towards Velvet. "Are you a historian? A fighter? Hell, a fellow archeologist?!"

Velvet extended a hoof towards Daring and motioned her to calm down. “Hey, we make a pretty good team. Remember Birdshot? Hm? No? How about the time you gave me your whip? Besides, couple extra hooves never hurt anypony."

An irritated grunt escaped Daring's clenched teeth as she dug a hoof into the ground and pursed her lips. Velvet, meanwhile, had put the notebook and pen back in her bags and started undoing the curl on her mane. At the corner of Velvet's vision, Daring stared at the sunset and huffed.

“Let's put it another way,” Velvet echoed. “Do you know what kind of thugs you're dealing with?"

"What?" Daring sputtered. "How is that releva–"

"Just answer the question..."

Daring's eyes gravitated to the ground, and she put a hoof to her chin. "I have a hunch, but..."

Several seconds of silence followed. Daring put her hoof down without finishing her sentence.

"I'll take that as a no," Velvet said while removing soot and glass particles from her mane. "Anyway, think about it. If those thugs were able to track me from my hotel in Vanhoover to that train in less than a day, who's to say they can't track me down to my apartment? They could beat the shit out of me and extract information that could undermine your search for the Spectrum. And by then, you won't be around to save me."

"Then don't go home," growled Daring. "I know someone in the south who can let you stay in a safehouse and–"

"Don't you get it?" Velvet creased her eyebrows. "Your solution still requires me to accompany you. And like I said, we make a great team. You really want me to stuff myself inside a dusty old barn in Dodge Junction—wait in fear to learn whether or not I can go home—when I could be helping you save the world? Hell no."

Daring sat on the grass and hung her head. Time to seal the deal.

"If it makes you feel better, I'll do my best to avoid stepping on your hooves." Velvet softened her tone. "I'll be the student. You'll be the master. What you say goes."

Daring sucked in a breath as she basked in the afternoon sun.

“I work alone…”

Velvet hung her head and folded her ears back. So much for her big scoop.

“…normally. In your case, I'll make an exception.”

“You will?” Velvet perked her ears up. “Sweet! Where do we sta—”

“Hold up,” Daring plugged a hoof on Velvet's mouth. Velvet gagged at another unannounced free sample of Grade A Free Range Extra Virgin countryside dirt. Daring's eyes focused her eyes on her front leg, then at Velvet's creased eyes.

“Sorry.” Daring lowered her hoof and spread her left wing outwards. “If you want to come with me, we're going to lay down some house rules.” A feather from Daring's left wing extended into the air. “First, stick by my side. The last thing I need is another partner running off and getting killed. I'd put a damn leash on you if I could, but you're a pony, not a pet.”

Fluttering her eyelashes at Daring, Velvet contorted her face into a smirk.

“Woof woof.”

As Daring glared at Velvet and frowned, the latter shot a hoof forwards.

“Hey, the way you worded it makes it look you like you're in desperate need to get off on somepony.”

Velvet gave off a giggle and smiled at the still-frowning Daring.

“Anyway”—Daring raised a second feather—“two, once we get this whole thing done, we go our separate ways.”

“Uh huh…”

“Three…”

Daring put a hoof onto her chin and looked down.

“Make yourself useful.”

Velvet stood from the rock and put on her saddlebags. “Sounds like a plan! Partners?” she said, extending her hoof.

Daring simply stood in place, her eyebrows furrowing at Velvet's hoof.

“Do you have an allergy to hoofshakes or something?” A tinge of annoyance lingered in Velvet's tone of voice as her hoof trembled slightly. “Want a hoofbump inst—”

Velvet felt the tug of Daring's hoof on hers.

“Partners.”

The word was said with the gravelly, almost guttural timbre that Velvet had since associated with Daring's non-fighting voice. Velvet most definitely did not squee like a little filly.

Velvet walked to her motorcycle and propped it upright. “So where to?” she said as she put the keys in the ignition and flicked the kill switch on.

Daring craned her head upwards, the sunlight reflecting from her eyes dimming as night fell. The chorus of crickets ever so slightly began to fill the landscape. In the distance, the two mares noted one or two lights from the windows of Canterlot switching on, along with the strobing beacons of the ambulances and police cars near the train.

“It's late,” said Daring. “Maybe it's better if we start tomorrow.”

“If you say so.” Velvet raised her voice, Evy growling to life, then gestured a hoof towards Daring. “Hop on! You can crash at my place.”

A reflexive twitch on Daring's back caused her cloak to fold slightly. “Oh right. Wings.”

“It's fine,” Daring said as she climbed onto the bike. “I can't fly very well in this cloak anyway.”

“Go ahead, take it off.” Velvet now sported a wide grin. “There's nopony watching.”

“Do you have an off button?”

“Nope!”

Daring climbed onto the motorcycle as she shook her head, folding her cloak to avoid the wheels. Velvet took a moment to look at her helmet hanging from the handlebars, the aroma of Eu de Rush Hour still lingering from the lining. Velvet's nose wrinkled. Petty reason, sure. But did she really want to wear the helmet now?

A passing whiff of iron directed Velvet's attention to her prior nosebleed and the jacketed stallion smashing her snout in. Velvet settled into her seat. She'd wash at home; besides, she smelled pretty hot. She caught a glimpse of Daring's impatient expression in the corner of her eye.

“Helmet or I don't drive," said Velvet.

“Whatever happened to wanting to live on the knife's edge?” Daring's last few words were muffled slightly when Velvet slid the helmet over her head.

“There's a difference between being gung-ho and being a dumbass. What about you? Surely you want to die a good death and not blow it on an auto accident?”

Daring took out her sun helmet and knocked on it. “I'm cool, thanks,” she said as she put it on and adjusted the straps.

The tug of Daring's hooves around Velvet's belly caused a small puff of air to escape from her mouth. Normally, such a hold was only reserved for Night Light, but before Velvet could voice her protests, her ears caught the ever so faint, rasp mutterings of her passenger over the din of the motorcycle revving up and speeding out of countryside.

“I hope this one will have a better ending.”





Her legs folded on one of two couches, Twilight Velvet stared out the window of her condominium. Her journal lay on a nearby coffee table, the recollection of the day's events taking up three times the number of pages it took to describe what had happened in the previous week. The gash on her cheek and the nick on her temple felt cooler than before, no doubt the magic regenerative cream doing its work in accelerating the healing process.

“Hey! Hey, Twilight!” a voice echoed from the bathroom. “Which towel should I use?”

“Agh, I forgot to get the towels out of the basket,” Velvet muttered to herself. “Just hang in there, Daring! I'll save you!”

Velvet got out of the couch, retrieved the towels, and walked to the ajar door, steam billowing from behind the door. As Velvet levitated one of the white cloths to Daring, two knocks sounded from the front. Velvet's ears twitched—not so much from the knocking itself, but the voice that soon followed.

“Velvet, honey? You there? Are you alright?”

The agitation in the stallion's voice diffused through the door and into Velvet's now-prickling fur. Impeccable timing. Another two knocks resounded through the room. Velvet darted her head between the main door and the bathroom door. She put her hoof down, marched to the door, and sucked in a breath.

A cloud of magic turned the lock at the door and caused it to creak ever so slightly.

The door flew open.

Velvet stepped back, the handle barely missing her snout. Her eyes met Night Light's shrunken pupils and his tangled mess of a mane. Before she could comment, he leapt forward and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Oh, thank Celestia, you're okay! I heard about what happened in the news. You must have been scared out of your wits!”

Gasping for air, Velvet tried to paw her way out of Night Light's grip. The stallion's hooves brushed against her coat, not to mention the mane curl at the back of her neck. “‘Scared?’ Me? Do you…even know your…fiancée?” she croaked before managing to push Night Light off and pointing a hoof to herself. “It's gonna take more than a few goons to get this bitch to crack!”

Night Light didn't return Velvet's smile. Instead, his eyes focused on the center of Velvet's face, prompting her to cock her head. “Honey, what's wrong?”

Velvet's nose wrinkled at the faint scent of iron and a feeling of something trickling down her snout. She raised her hoof to touch the blood that had resumed flowing from her nose, but Night Light beat her to it. His hoof then gravitated to the right and smeared the cheek wound, Velvet seething slightly from the ensuing sting.

“Scheisse!” Night Light's face contorted to a frown as his eyes centered at Velvet's bleeding nose. “You've got blood all over your face! What happened?”

Velvet opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of a door opening from the other side of the room interrupted her. “Let's, uh, let's take it outside.” A toothy, nervous smile materialized on Velvet's face as she took Night Light by the withers and spun him around, making sure to keep his eyes off the bathroom door and her guest. Amid Night Light's annoyed protests, she led him into the hallway and closed the door.

“Velvet, what is going on?” Night Light furrowed his eyebrows. “Please, just tell me. ‘Shoulder to cry on,’ remember?”

Velvet scratched her front hooves, trying to figure out what to say. She couldn't let him in on this. One hanger-on was enough for Daring. She probably wouldn't approve of two.

“I crashed my motorcycle on the way here.”

Night Light settled on his legs and exhaled. “Oh, that's it? It's not a gunshot wound?” 

Velvet glanced downward, then back at Night Light. "No... Just...just an unfriendly sidewalk!"

Night Light glanced aside, the corners of his mouth turned upward as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Wouldn't be the first time.”

“Actually—" Velvet tapped her hooves together "—not just that, I…”

The image of the cloaked mare's death flashed in her mind. I can't tell him yet. I'm not ready.

“I've got a big assignment coming up in the next two days. The higher-ups in the magazine want me to go interview a historian down south…” Velvet tried to psych herself up by gesticulating one of her front hooves. “And as you know, a journalist's work is never done!”

A wide, toothy smile spread on Velvet's face. The bottom part of her lip quivered as she stared into Night Light's eyes. She felt a trickle of sweat slide down her temple and hoped Night Light didn't see it.

“Are you sure, Vel?” Night Light furrowed his eyebrows. “I can't imagine what you've gone through. Ponies getting shot, bullets fired near you… And you're just going to go back to work like it never happened?” He paused for a moment. "Granted, this is you we're talking about. You've always been one to stare danger squarely in the face, but still..."

He put a hoof around Velvet's shoulder.

“Try to explain your situation to your boss. She'll understand—give you some time off to clear your head…that kind of stuff.”

“But that's the thing, Nachtlicht!”

Velvet raised a hoof at that last word, but lowered it when Night Light returned the favor by glaring at her and grumbling.

“Sorry, not the best time to call you that. But anyway, that historian I told you about? She found something big.” Velvet stopped for a moment to filter her knowledge of what was in Daring's notebook to sound less incriminating. “This isn't another one of my boring old seminars!” Velvet drove the point home with a hoof. “Remember when I said I would wait for something to hit me? Get me out of the rut? This is it, Night Light. This is finally it.”

Night Light put a hoof to his chin and glanced at the floor.

“Two days, right?”

“Hopefully.”

Lost in thought, both ponies stood without saying a word, the only sounds coming from motorists outside.

Night Light stroked Velvet's cheek and smiled.

“Just keep in touch. Remember what you said back in Vanhoover? ‘I always find a way.’”

Taking Velvet's neck, Night Light brought Velvet's head close to his until their horns touched.

“Good luck kiss?” asked Night Light.

A soft purr rumbled from Velvet's mouth as she caressed Night Light's cheek.

“That means ‘yes’ back in Germaneigh,” Night Light said.

Velvet let out an amused chuckle. “Then show me the ways of your people.”

Their lips touched, and for a few seconds, she felt herself uncoil. There was a release, not of the same kind Velvet got from an adrenaline rush, but of a more soothing kind. The kiss didn't last long, and its backdrop—a hallway with burnt browns and drab greens—could have been more spicy. But it didn't matter for Velvet.

For the first time since the train fiasco, the weight was off her shoulders.

Night Light stepped back. “Feel better?”

Velvet blushed and looked away. “Hell yeah…”

“I'm just glad to see you're all right. Hope it stays that way…”

He took Velvet's hoof with his two front hooves. “…wherever you go.”

Velvet was about to return to her room, but she thought she heard Night Light speak again. 

“And honey?"

She turned her head to look at Night Light.

”Motorcycle crashes don't smell like gunpowder.” 

All the color drained from Velvet's face. ”But...how...I'm sorry, I...wait...” 

”No, stop.” Night Light motioned Velvet to stop sputtering and calm down. ”Whatever it is you're planning to do, I probably don't want to know more. Just...just don't go wandering off beyond where you told me you were going—Southern Equestria, right?”

Velvet nodded wordlessly in response.

”'Two days' time.'” Night Light echoed, a small smile inching its way through. ”Keep yourself safe, my star.” 

Night Light gave his fiance one last peck, then disappeared down the stairs. Velvet sighed to herself and opened the door.

She was greeted by a naked Daring's now non-bloodied visage. Before Velvet could question her, Daring poked her head out the door and looked left, then right. “Is he gone?” the pegasus asked.

Velvet sputtered, then pushed Daring back into the room. “How long have you been spying on us?”

The hint of a smile made its way to Daring's mouth. “Guess I'm a 'historian down south' now. You do realize what kind of mental image that brings to mind, right? I can imagine myself as a fat senior sitting on a rocking chair while wearing a ten-gallon hat.”

Velvet snickered. “That far in, huh? Y'know, once we get back to Canterlot after we go to…wherever it is we're going, you two should really get to know each other.”

Daring scratched the back of her neck. “Ehh… I think I'll pass. He's only got eyes for you.”

Daring walked to one of the couches and climbed up, while Velvet, disappointed upon opening the refrigerator and discovering that she had run out of Pinot Noir, helped herself to a glass of chilled Cabernet Sauvignon. Taking the glass with her magic, she walked to the second couch and sat on it.

“Hey, Twilight,” said Daring.

“Yeah?”

“You have weird ideas for nicknames. ‘Nachtlicht?’ Really?”

Velvet took a swig from the long-overdue wine and exhaled, allowing the alcohol to soothe her aching mind. “His parents were Germane immigrants. He doesn't see them eye to eye, if you catch my drift.”

Daring let out a bemused “oh” and nodded while raising her eyebrows. “Germane, eh? Maybe they know about the Solar Cipher.”

“The what?” Velvet cocked her head.

“Eh, something I heard about a while back. But I digress.”

Velvet excused herself to take a shower, then brought the blankets and pillows from her bedroom to the living room. After setting them on Daring's couch, Velvet sat beside her, the pegasus curling up in a blanket. “So…what’s your stake in all this?”

“Huh?” The bedtime burrito’s head jerked up.

“You killed, like, ten ponies in a single afternoon. With that kind of body count, the Spectrum’s probably worth more than the Griffonstone national debt.” 

Daring’s limbs wriggled loose from inside the blanket wrap as she sat up. “It’s not about the money.”

“Really?” Velvet furrowed her eyebrows at Daring. “Do tell.”

Like a little filly in class, Velvet sat up straight and put her front hooves together, awaiting more wise words from Professor Daring. “You must’ve already read about my uncle Gallant True and how he attempted to look for the Spectrum many years ago,” Daring started. “Key word: attempted.”

“Wait—” Velvet’s eyes widened, and she shot her hoof upwards. Daring frowned at the near-uppercut. “Sorry…but did your uncle die or—”

“What? No!” Daring crossed her arms. “Lemme finish first!”

Velvet released a breath, momentarily glancing away before letting her mentor continue.

“Anyway, when he went to the Orient to look for the Spectrum, the rainbow eucalyptus trees proved more fascinating to his interests…” Daring put a hoof to her mouth and glanced downward. “ …or at least, that was what I thought at first.”

“Ooh! Intrigue! Suspense!” Velvet smirked as she wiggled her hooves in the air, leaving a confounded Daring grimacing and glaring at her.

“Can I continue?”

Velvet put her hooves down. “Floor's all yours, madam.”

“Thank you. So a few days ago, a pegasus approached me while I was visiting my uncle in Vanhoover. Name was Haribon, head of some agricultural city council in the Fillyppines.”

“Sounds fishy,” noted Velvet.

“That's what I thought at first, but hey, he did offer to make a partial payment in cash upfront.” Daring shrugged. “Won't find that in any Abyssinian Prince Scam. Plus, the Spectrum wasn't for his personal collection or something. The southeastern Fillyppine weather facility failed: twenty-five years of foreign occupation and twenty years of dictatorship will do that.”

Velvet connected the dots. “So Haribon wants to use the Spectrum to fix his country's crop problems…”

“Exactly. And the Spectrum is a Fillyppine artifact. This isn't just about money, Velvet. We bring the Fillyppine ponies something they’ve been missing so long, and we get to help their country recover. Two birds with one stone.” Daring's hoof drove the point home.

Velvet’s hoof slowly rose to her chin. “And where does your uncle factor into this?”

“He…wasn't too keen on the quest. Said he had ‘other reasons’ aside from botany this time. I asked him to clarify and he wouldn't say anything else. Must've hit him too close to home…”

Daring's eyes drifted downward. “In retrospect, he may have had a point.”

“What makes you say that?”

“After I left his place and took his notes–”

“Stealing, are we? You're a naughty little filly.”

Daring snorted. “Takes one to know one. Anyway, after that, I went to my hotel room in Vanhoover and got jumped by thugs.”

Velvet's ears perked up.

“They managed to steal mine and Gallant's notes,” continued Daring. “I rounded most of them up pretty quickly, but that last mare was a damn cockroach. Did a barrel roll through a window. I had to comb through a quarter of the city.” A sigh interrupted Daring's recollection. “…and then it turns out they lost my notes.”

“Like our fates are intertwined.” Velvet’s eyes sparkled, and her voice adopted a lilt. “Next thing you know, we’ll be able to send instant mail by writing on our forelegs.” 

Daring raised an eyebrow. “And your current fiance?”

Velvet gave a crooked smirk. “Two forelegs; two soulmates,” she said as she raised the appendages in question. 

Daring rolled her eyes. “Oh my word, you sound like my fans.”

“Hey, what kind of fans are ever going to get up close to you like this?” Velvet’s forelegs dropped back to the couch. “So anyway, what were you doing in Vanhoover?”

“What do you think? Doing the aerial sixty-nine with Birdshot?”

“It's possible. I'd have trouble passing up on the opportunity myself…” Velvet's eyes shifted upwards, then back towards Daring, mouth spreading into a shit-eating grin. “Maybe I should ask Night Light…”

“You're terrible.” Daring nodded, then stared out the window and into the cloudy, midnight blue sky. “Seriously, though, folks like Birdshot and all those other thugs can’t get their hooves on the Spectrum. Not because I wouldn’t get paid—”

“Glad to know your priorities are in order!” Velvet nudged Daring’s shoulder.

Daring stifled a chuckle. “Of course a Canterlotian like you would say that. But think of it this way: instead of a train shootout, imagine a tornado picking it off the ground…or some kind of magic-imbued lightning strike turning everything and everypony inside into stone. The Spectrum is not for thugs.”

Velvet inched away, the air around the room getting cold. It wasn’t so much what Daring said and more the sudden change in her tone.

“Sorry,” muttered Daring, “just…needed to underline what you’re getting into here. You’re gonna be getting your hooves dirty and bloody.”

Velvet’s ears folded back. “Does it ever bother you: the killing?”

The fur on Velvet’s hooves stood on end as Daring breathed out a sigh. “Look, what kind of pony would I be if it didn’t bother me?” A shrug capped off her words. “But that’s my line of work for you. If you’re not prepared to draw first, sometimes, you don’t get to draw at all. Especially with guys like those thugs.” Daring settled into her blankets. “So I ask you again: you sure you still want to do this?

Velvet shrugged and gave a small smile. “Like you said, it’s for a good cause, and like I said, we make a great team. And hey, it’s a new experience: saving the world and all. I’m all for new experiences! So what now?”

Daring motioned to the clock on the wall. “We're taking a train to Appleloosa after sunrise. You think you can bring your motorcycle?”

“I guess so.”

“Good, because the last thing we need is a two-day walk across the desert. You don't have the stamina.” Daring punctuated the last sentence by poking at Velvet's belly.

“Ooh!” Velvet seethed, taking Daring's potshot in stride. “Going for a low blow, huh?”

“What are you talking about? That was distinctly above the belt; I wouldn't want to give you any ideas.” Daring smirked.

Velvet snickered. “Cheeky bastard.”

She took one of the blankets and stretched it over herself as she lay on the couch and flicked the lights off with her magic. The only things illuminating the room now were the lights of other city dwellers emanating from the Canterlot skyline—a mix of ornate alabaster spires and reflective glass skyscrapers. “Aren't you going to stay in your bed?” asked Daring.

“Nah, I'm keeping you company for the night.”

“Comforting. Next thing I know, you'll be smashing my legs with a mallet and forcing me to write your fanfics.”

A long period of silence followed, with Daring's relaxed breathing signaling that she was asleep. The bright lights of the Canterlot skyline reflected on Velvet's eyes as she curled in her blanket. It had been a long day. Her aching muscles longed for some real rest, unlike the unfriendly knockout the Jacketed Stallion dealt her in the train. The thought of all the things she'd done because of Daring—she'd actually lied to Night Light, assuming he didn't already know everything and he was just playing dumb—and the things she would be doing with Daring in the next two days tried to intrude her mind, but the call of sleep pushed it all aside.

Sleep today, rest today. Angst tomorrow.
> Chapter 7: Secret Keeper
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

One little peek had turned into a perusal of indeterminable span.

As Spike turned the journal to another page, he set it down, allowing all that he had read to simmer in his mind. As far as reading material went, it was surprisingly entertaining for what was ostensibly private ramblings in a diary. No wonder Twilight Sparkle had a knack for the written word; must be a family thing.

“Are you for real?” he muttered as he closed the book and eyed the aged cover. His gut told him "yes," but his mind couldn't get over just how far-fetched the notion of Velvet associating with Daring was. Surely there was a rational explanation.

Maybe this was Velvet's attempt at making a quick buck by making her own Daring Do books. It certainly wouldn't be the first time A.K. Yearling allowed other ponies to use her intellectual property, as the disastrous Daring Do and the Corundum Skull Conundrum movie could attest.

Maybe Velvet was just a fan of the Daring Do series, and this journal was her elaborate self-insert fanfiction. Spike chuckled at that thought; Daring Do and the World's Bravest DragonKnight was proof that he wasn't exactly innocent in that regard.

The investigation was cut short by a growl rising from his stomach and tickling his throat. “Oh,” he muttered. “Must be a letter from Twilight's mom.” This time around, the sensation wasn't much of a bother. It was just one piece of paper, after all, not an entire book. Spike got up and stretched his muscles just as he hiccuped a small flame, a piece of paper materializing on the wall. After scratching his belly, Spike picked up the letter and stretched it out.


Sparky,



We're on our way back. You and your dragon friend better get yourselves ready to head out. 



Oh, and I don't have to remind you about this, Sparky, but no snooping around the attic! That's where your father keeps his secret magazines, but don't tell him I told you that.


“Dang it!” whispered Spike. He tossed the letter onto the floor and opened the window. Shielded from the sun by his claws, his eyes caught two shapes—one gray and one blue—walking down the sidewalk. He squinted, hoping to himself that Velvet had sent the message while they were still far off from home.

No such luck. A distinctive striped purple mane came into focus.

Spike shut the window, hoping Velvet hadn't spotted him. He darted his head around before his eyes gravitated back to Velvet's journal, still lying on the floor near the pillow.

He sighed. “We'll talk later.”

His mind kicked into high gear. Spike dragged the pillow back to where he found it, then ran back to the journal and dog-eared the page where he stopped. Twilight would have given him a stern half-hour-long tirade for defacing a book like that—a tirade that would eventually go off on a grueling tangent about the effects of compressive stress on paper fibers. 

Spike then slid the journal under a shelf. Leaving books under furniture, like dog-eared pages, was yet another lecture-worthy crime. But Spike didn't have time to think about that. Slamming the attic door behind him, Spike raced down the stairs and into the living room, his heart pounding in harmony with his feet.

“Whoa, Spike!” Twilight called out from the sofa and cocked her head as Spike stopped in front of her, panting. It was as if she hadn't moved from her lounging posture on the couch. “What's the rush?”

“Y-your…mom is…” Spike stopped, then sucked in a breath.

The door flew open.

“Oh, Sparky, we're home!” a perky voice called out from the front door. “Hope you didn't bore yourself to death while waiting!” Keeping her eyes off her mother, Twilight pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows as Velvet sauntered into the living room, Night Light tailing behind. “Ready to head to the library?”

“Yes, Mother,” Twilight said, taking her time getting off the couch.

Spike followed the mares out the door, eyeing Twilight's father as he closed the door behind them. “Hope we didn't keep you waiting too long, Twilight,” Night Light said as he closed the door behind the mares.

“It's fine, Dad.” Twilight smiled. “I got some reading done. Besides, we have the rest of the day! Maybe if we finish up in the library quickly, we can have ourselves a real family outing.”

Velvet chuckled. “What? You don't want to spend more time at the library? Who are you and what have you done with the real Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight reacted by lowering her head and flattening her ears. Her face wasn't visible from behind, but Spike felt a low exasperated grumble vibrate through the air.

“Now, now.” Velvet bumped her daughter's shoulder. “If there's one thing I know about my little Sparky, it's that she loves to wolf down hayburgers. Whaddya say we head to the Burger Palace and verify your identity?”

Twilight raised her head slightly and looked at Velvet. “Sure… and thanks, Mom.”

Spike quickened his pacing somewhat to catch up with the ponies, trailing behind Velvet as Twilight brought her father up to speed with her role as Princess of Friendship and her new castle. Built on a mountainside, Canterlot didn't have as many cars moving through the streets, meaning that the roads were quiet enough for Spike to hear himself think. Twilight had been scouring her few surviving books for days—some of them without sleep—looking for any clue to the nature of her castle, but so far, she'd turned up nothing. Part of the reason they were in Canterlot in the first place was to find more information that could shed some light on the subject. Spike didn't have to shield his eyes from the sun to tell that Twilight had bags under her eyes. It was a wonder she hadn't dozed off on the couch earlier.

His eyes drifted towards Velvet. Something about her body struck him as…off, especially compared with what he'd just read in the past several minutes. Far from the chubby mare in her journal, Velvet's body was sleek and well-built, the various contours of muscles coursing throughout her frame revealing themselves when Spike squinted slightly. If it weren't for the color of the fur and the lack of wings, Spike would have sworn he was looking at Rainbow Dash.

Velvet turned to interject a remark as Twilight recounted her fight with Tirek. Whatever the remark was, Spike didn't hear it. His attention was drawn to something else.

A thin scar on Velvet's right cheek.

There was also another, more rounded scar on one of her hind legs, plus one more on her front leg, just barely visible from behind. Spike put two and two together, his jaw falling open.

All of a sudden, the idea of Twilight's mom having a dark past didn't seem so far-fetched.

“Excuse me, Mr. Dragon.”

“Oh!” Spike tapped his claws together and glanced at the sidewalk momentarily before facing Velvet. “Oh right, sorry about that! Just…admiring the scenery!”

Wait…

Spike slapped himself in the face.

Meanwhile, Velvet snickered, then flicked her tail. “You uncouth bachelor!” she said in the nobles’ distinctive Equish. “I’ve already found my mate! Hmph!” As she trotted away, she pointed her nose in the air, leaving Spike to quicken his pace again. She gave him one last wink before rejoining Twilight and Night Light’s conversation.

Grimacing at himself, Spike kicked a pebble down the sidewalk. Smooth moves, you blockhead.





Night had fallen in the Sparkle household. Having stockpiled enough books to fill the new castle's library—and watched Twilight wolf down three hayburgers—Spike was ready to head back to Ponyville. He and Twilight missed the last train, though, and had to stay the night in the Sparkle house. After brushing up, Twilight hurried to her childhood bed—managing to squeeze into it despite her Alicorn growth—and wasted no time settling into the covers and closing her eyes.

Spike, still as a rock, stared at the dark ceiling.

Should he tell Twilight? She had the right to know, but she'd been so busy the past few days. She didn't need more on her plate. But still...

Spike took the journal from under the covers of his basket and stared at its silhouette, illuminated only by moonlight. Earlier, after dinner, he sneaked back to the attic and took the journal from the bottom of the shelf. The journal was lighter than Meadowbrook's Translated Corpus, but Spike felt it weighing heavily on him like a succubus. It was taunting him, prodding him to read through it all and let Velvet's dark past out into the world…or at least, out to her daughter.

Spike climbed out of the bed, moving slowly so the shuffling of the fabrics over each other made less sound, and sneaked towards Twilight, the rumble of her snoring reverberating through the room. Another thought stopped him before he could give in to the temptress's wiles.

There was probably a good reason Velvet wanted to hide these journals away… Well, aside from the fact that they were private diaries.

Maybe he should read a little more before telling Twilight. For research purposes. Yeah.

Plan A was to read the journal on his basket while everyone was asleep. Having left his flashlight in Ponyville, though, Spike had to make do with Plan B. He steadily opened the door and closed it behind him, barely a creak from the hinges. He flicked the lights on. His eyes throbbed as they were drowned in a dazzling white light.

“Agh!” Spike suppressed the shout; he didn't want his voice to leak out the door and into the bedroom.

When his eyes had adjusted to the brightness, Spike took one of the rugs, climbed onto the sink, and turned it into a facsimile of his own basket. "Not as soft as the real thing, but as the DaBalleron folks say on the Daring Do forums, if it fits, it ships...or 'sits,' in this case."





Dear Journal,

So…this is the adventurer's life, huh? Sitting inside a buffalo teepee, bandaging wounds, cleaning blood from your horn after stabbing somepony with it…

And here I was, thinking that archeology was all about brushing broken pieces of pottery. Don't tell Daring I said that, though: she'll probably go on another one of her tirades about how she's the exception to the rule.

But enough of that. How did Daring and I get into this situation in the first place? We left Canterlot for the San Palomino Desert a few days ago. After getting off a train station, we headed off-road and traveled for Celestia-knows-how-long across the desert, Daring pointing the way.

It's times like these I'm glad I've had someone like Evy at my side.

I miss her already.
> Chapter 8: Deserts, Caves, and Lightning Raves
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Velvet, look out!”

Twilight Velvet gasped. Her heart fell out of step, her eyes wide, but it was too late.

She looked up just in time to conk her head onto a long gnarled stalactite.

The notebook she'd been carrying with her telekinesis fell to the floor as her magic fizzled, plunging the cavern into darkness. Velvet rubbed her forehead and groaned, the rocky floor of the cavern scraping her rump. When she got up and relit her horn, Daring's frowning visage was the first thing to come into view. In response, Velvet folded her ears and let out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry, just…writing your notes down for posterity!”

Daring looked away and continued down the cavern, her trademark low-pitched grumble reverberating off the walls. “Keep up or I'm leaving you behind.”

Velvet dusted herself. “Jeez, and I thought you were only pretending not to like me,” she muttered while catching up with Daring, saddlebags shuffling behind her back.

Her motorcycle had taken the duo past rock outcroppings of various sizes, sparse fields populated by spiny desert plants, and wide stretches of nothing but rocks and sand. Now they were starting down a cavern leading down Celestia-Knows-Where, the last outside rays of light disappearing behind another crooked stalactite as the two ponies rounded a corner. Seemed like they were headed to a back door to Tartarus?

The sensation of Daring's wings brushing her loins caused Velvet's fur to stand.

“Headlamp, please.”

Velvet reached into her saddlebags and mouthed the light to Daring. “I can make my horn light brighter, you know,” she said once her mouth was free of the device.

“I'd rather you save your magic for when we really need it.”

A long period of silence followed. Without the distraction of her notebook, Velvet's eyes were more attuned to avoiding the various branched, forked rock formations scattered around the cave.

“So what are we looking for exactly? You didn't tell me back in the train—just that we needed to go here before looking for the Spectrum.”

“Indra's Bow, or at least, a piece of it,” Daring said. “Meadowbrook the Fourth made a beacon artifact to locate the Spectrum in case it got lost. Course, things are never easy, and Gallant True's notebook says that somepony split Indra's Bow into three pieces long ago. He found two in the Orient, but he never found the third.”

Velvet raised her eyebrow. “The Orient? Isn't that across the Luna Oceans? Why are we here then?”

“Because after trying to look for the Spectrum, Gallant True visited this area and noted some odd phenomena, like the rampant thunderstorms at night.” Daring sighed. “He didn't say much in his notes, though, and the local buffalo refused to talk to him about it.”

“Sounds like he hit a dead end,” suggested Velvet.

“Not exactly. It wouldn't be the first time he stopped a quest because there weren't enough plants to satisfy his botanist itch.”

A few yards of walking later, they came upon a deep, vertical shaft. As Daring surveyed its depth with her lamp, Velvet kicked some pebbles down, watching as they were swallowed by the darkness. Though it only took a third of a minute for the sound of the pebbles grinding and clacking on the ground to echo back to Velvet's ears, it was long enough to make her crease her eyebrows.

“Not too high, but I don't want to risk it,” muttered Daring. She took a rope and a grappling hook from Velvet's saddlebags, then dumped a harness on the ground in front of Velvet. “Here, put this on.”

Velvet took the harness with her magic. “I guess this is the part where I clip myself to the small end of the figure-eight belay, right?”

“Sounds like someone's been paying attention in class,” Daring said while winding the rope around two wide rock outcrops. The light from her headlamp flickered as Velvet focused on Daring's hooves and wings. They dexterously crafted knots, bringing order to the once-chaotic tangle of ropes. Velvet recognized none of the knots; Daring hadn't taught her how to make those in the train.

“Does this mean I get a Gold Star, Ma'am Daring?” Velvet's voice squeaked, a byproduct of putting on her best little filly impression.

“No.”

“Aw, brighten up a bit!”

“Maybe you'd like some detention, huh? How about that?”

“Ooh, have I been a naughty filly?”

“Yes, and now the naughty little filly needs to pay attention or she'll be a stain on the ground.”

After Daring had set up the anchor and Velvet had looped the rope through her belay and carabiners, Velvet got on her hind legs and tugged the ropes wrapping both sides of her waist. “Left hoof for feeding; right hoof for braking,” she whispered as she inched backwards into the shaft.

An icy draft howled through her ears. Velvet shut her eyes, grit her teeth, and strangled the rope.

“Q-quit being such a wuss. Twilight.” The words came out chattered, both from cold and from fear. “The Fillydelphia Motocross Trials? Pfft, compared to that, this is a walk in the park.”

Velvet looked down the shaft to face Daring. Maybe some company would help calm the shaky nerves. “Hey, Daring! Isn't there supposed to be a backup rope or–”

Her eyes caught the golden pegasus descending the shaft. Her headlamp was switched off. Her beige pith helmet taunted Velvet before it and its owner were swallowed up in the darkness. Another updraft chilled Velvet's skin and whispered into her ears, even as the rope creaked above her. None of these things fazed Velvet this time, however: she was too busy gazing down the abyss Daring had vanished into, eyebrows furrowed and teeth gritted.





“Oh, I see how it is!” Velvet called down the shaft. “Thanks for looking out for me!” She gripped onto the rope and steadied herself, uttering a string of curses for the rest of the way down.

After she'd reached the bottom and released herself from the rope, Velvet huffed and fell on her back. The rocks on the ground, having gone through years without contact from the outside world, responded to their intruder by chafing the skin on her back. The sensation didn't even register in her mind; she was too busy groaning from her burning, fatigued legs.

“Hey, Vel!” Daring's voice echoed throughout the tunnel. “Get over here! You've got to see this.”

Fighting the fatigue, Velvet picked herself up and scuttled down the cave to the direction of the voice. A moving cone of light peeked out from another crooked stalactite as she rounded a corner. Headlamp—Daring was close by.

She got to Daring in time to see her crack a chemical light stick and toss it aside. A neon green hue illuminated the current portion of the cave: some kind of natural antechamber, given the relatively wide space compared to the earlier narrower corridors. Not every part of the chamber was lit, however. Velvet noted several rock formations—most as tall as she was—scattered throughout the floor and the sharp shadows they cast on the walls. Focusing on one particular shadow, she noted that the rock formations were pony-like not just in height, but in appearance. 

“Wow…” Velvet's eyes shimmered, scoping her surroundings while slowing to a walk. “So what exactly are we looking at here? Some kind of ancient civilization's attempt at sculpture?" 

Daring shook her head. “Not sculpture.”

Her hoof gestured to one pegasus-shaped rock. Unlike the other rocks, this one wore a brown shirt, though Velvet couldn't tell whether that was the original color. Eyes narrowing, Daring snagged the discolored, tattered fabric. “I'm no sculptor, but I'm pretty sure that if I were, I'd save the tattered clothes for a starving artist like myself, not let my creations wear them.”

“So you're saying…”

“Yes.” Daring directed the beam of her headlamp to the pegasus's vaguely decipherable expression: an agonized scream immortalized in stone.

“We weren't the first ponies to explore this place.”

Daring started down a tunnel, leaving Velvet standing alongside the pegasus rock and ruminating on her words. As the beam from Daring's headlamp began to fade, Velvet's fur stood on end. Her ears picked up a slight buzz in the air—high-pitched, almost like radio static. It would have been a familiar, almost reassuring sound to the technologically inclined unicorn…

…if she knew where the sound was coming from.

And if the sound didn't have the slightest tinge of coherent speech.

The buzz was not a consistent hum of random noise. It had a certain rhythm to it, and Velvet could almost make out consonants in its tone. It was garbled, or otherwise in a language she didn't know. Daring and Velvet didn't have any radios, or heck, anything that the latter could feasibly see as transmitting sound.

Velvet's ears folded back, and she began to canter silently towards Daring's direction. Time to haul ass before the demented artist who lurked in this place could reach out and touch them.

It wasn't long before Velvet caught up with Daring and grabbed her shirt. “Hey! Hey, Daring!” Velvet whispered. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Some kind of buzzing sound; it was—”

Velvet stopped. The buzzing “voice” was gone, replaced only by the cave's characteristic howling. Meanwhile, Daring turned to Velvet, gave her the stink-eye, and continued walking.

“But…what…where did—”

“Save your hallucinations until after we get out of here, all right?”

Velvet kept up, passing by an earth pony statue as she trailed behind Daring. Maybe Daring was right. Velvet's legs continued to shake despite her best efforts. 

Something crossed the lower corner of Velvet's field of view. After passing by another earth pony statue, the unicorn sat on the floor and lit her horn, bathing the cave in dim magenta light. Not too bright—she needed to save her magic after all.

The something, it turned out, was a heavyset statue with cloven hooves. The creature was lying on the floor, three legs on the floor and one leg raised upwards, like it was shielding its eyes. There was a gaping hole on its back—hasty tomb robbers, probably. Two horns protruded from both sides of the statue's head, a dead giveaway to its identity.

“Daring, take a look at this.”

Velvet reflexively shielded herself from the beam of Daring's headlamp as the pegasus walked up to her. She sat beside Velvet and adjusted the beam to cover a wider area, her mouth opening in fascination before she spoke.

“It's…it's a buffalo.”

Daring took her trowel from its holster and dug through the sand around the buffalo's neck, unearthing a light blue necklace. Taking the necklace on the trowel blade, she brought it in for a closer look.

“Look at these turquoise beads. The craftsmareship…this must be 16th century at the oldest.”

While Daring's eyes remained glued to the necklace, Velvet sniffed the air. Her snout wrinkled and her eyebrows furrowed. Her nose traced the strong pungent odor, not unlike one from an electrical generator to one of the branched rock formations by the statue, which she illuminated by upping her horn's light intensity a notch.

Not only was the branched rock hollow, it was also glassy on the inside, twinkling along with Velvet's eyes.

Velvet turned again to the cavity on the buffalo's back.

“Hmm…”

Daring was ambushed from behind.

“Hey!” grunted Daring as Velvet grabbed her head and shoved it down the cavity on the buffalo. “What are you—”

“Smell it,” whispered Velvet.

Daring's face contorted into a confused frown.

“It's good for the heart…”

A growl emanated from Daring's closed mouth and echoed through the cave.

“Seriously, just trust me on this one. It'll make sense.”

The sound of two sniffles told Velvet that Daring had complied. Upon being released from Velvet's hooves, Daring sat up and stared at Velvet.

“Ozone.” 

“Bingo!” Velvet touched Daring's snout. “Gold Star!”

Daring creased her eyebrows and glared daggers at Velvet, who responded with a cheeky grin.

“Aaaaanyway… I'm surprised you know what ozone smells like,” said Velvet after putting her hoof down. “I was half-expecting you to ask me what you were sniffing.”

“Pegasus, remember? You're not the only one who can shoot lightning around here.” Daring put a hoof behind her neck. “Haven't done it since I was thirteen, though I still remember the smell.”

“That's not all.” Velvet pointed her horn light at the cavity on the buffalo's back. “See that?”

A shimmer caught both Velvet and Daring's eyes. The latter pony leaned closer, focused the beam of her headlamp, and widened her eyes.

“This is…this is fulgurite!” declared Daring.

“Wha… come again?” Velvet cocked her head.

Daring stood up. “Fulgurite—it's…it's a type of mineraloid formed when lightning strikes sand or rock and melts it into a glass-like tube. I used to make these all the time in the beach when I was a filly.” 

With her magic, Velvet swiped a broken piece of the branched rock formation from the ground and levitated it in front of Daring “You mean like this?”

“Sort of.” She put a hoof to her chin and creased her eyebrows at the piece of broken rock. "This fulgurite doesn't look natural, though. Doesn't even look like the result of normal pegasus magic—much too crystalline."

“You've got to be kidding me.” Velvet scratched her mane as she connected the dots. “You mean that somehow, lightning was bouncing around the walls of an underground cave?”

“And I have a hunch that whatever made that lightning also turned these creatures into stone.” Daring drove the point home with her hoof.

“Hold up.” Velvet put her hoof to her chin. “I just thought of something. The half-life of ozone in air is several hours or a few days at most. Doesn't that mean that whatever made that lightning is still around?”

A faint buzz filled the air again. Daring's ear twitched.

“Sounds like you weren't hallucinating, kid.”

Velvet backed away, her eyes darting around the ceiling while looking for the source of the buzz. The sensation of something rocky connecting with her leg, followed by a crumbling sound, caused Velvet to turn around.

She'd chipped one of the earth pony statues they passed by earlier.

Something glowed from inside the statue. Velvet galloped towards Daring as the entire statue began to crumble. Multicolored sparks arced all over its surface, while a bright white light with a tinge of yellow billowed out of the growing cracks. One of the sparks burst from the earth pony's chest and struck the statue of a pegasus, then a bison, then a second pegasus. An unholy snarling noise echoed through the cave as a webwork of aetheric electricity blocked the way back to the entrance.

Velvet and Daring crept backwards. The latter bit her lip.

“That's probably bad…”

A blue arc slammed the rock above, showering the ponies with stones. The ponies flinched. A bolt of electricity came hurtling towards them, prompting Daring to take to the air and fly deeper into the tunnel.

“Run!”

Countless discharges thundered and echoed behind the duo. Arcs of various colors snaked forward by jumping between statues and rock formations alike. The earth shook all around Velvet. She struggled to keep her footing. Her ears folded, beaten to submission by the literally thunderous cacophony. A flash revealed a pony statue right beside her, causing her to duck just as an arc connected to it and blew it to pieces.

“Watch it! Don't get close to the other statues!”

A pile of rocks came to view. The only way through was a small hole at the top. Daring flew through easily, while Velvet had to clamber upwards and squeeze through, rocks sliding out from under her hooves.

She slipped. Her body tumbled to the other side of the rock pile.

Daring didn't stop for her. The pegasus disappeared behind a left turn several yards away.

“Wait!”

The sound of crumbling rocks caused Velvet to scamper forward. She'd only gotten a few feet forward when the sound of an arc crackling behind her reached her ears. Something snagged her tail. Velvet rolled on her back to focus on the offending weight.

A white glow seared through Velvet's retinas, covering an increasingly larger area of her tail. In their wake, soft, white and purple fibers solidified into hardened, gnarled masses of brown rock.

“Wha… Ahhh! Holy shit!”

Velvet tried to back away, but her tail seemed to fuse with the floor. Her horn glowed. She grit her teeth and held back a scream as she tried to pull the hairs out with her telekinesis.

Her hair held together. This wasn't going to cut it.

“Damn it! Where's a barber when you need one?!”

Velvet looked up. Give or take a few sparks, the pile of rocks she'd vaulted over seemed to impede most of the thunderous cascade of lightning. With every earth-shaking roar and flash, however, the collective blizzard of sparks made its murderous intentions known. There wasn't much time.

She used a heating spell to separate herself from her rapidly petrifying tail. It worked…too slowly. A quarter of her once long flowing tail had now been turned to stone, and the heating spell hadn't even transected half that distance. Such magic needed to be slow going, as much as it pained Velvet. Too fast, and it would just set her entire tail on fire.

A bolt of lightning shattered a rock, the rubble showering the ground beside Velvet.

“Oh crap! Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!”

Dust kicked itself up at Velvet's right. Shielding her eyes momentarily, Velvet looked up.

“Velvet, get back!”

“Daring?” Velvet could barely keep herself from hyperventilating. “For Celestia's sake, where were you, taking a bathroom break?! Stop leaving me behind!”

“I told you to lay off the eclairs!"

"Just shut up and GET ME OUTTA HERE!!"

Velvet watched the master's trowel make short work of her tail. Each blow sliced off several hairs, the blade grinding on the ground all the while. A lightning bolt shattered another rock. A piece struck Daring in the ribs, but she barely flinched. Was it adrenaline? Experience? Velvet didn't know.





Taking to the air, the pegasus yanked Velvet's hoof upwards.

“You're good. On your hooves!”

For the next several minutes, Velvet ran on autopilot—tunnel vision, in more ways than one. The shaking of the earth, the intermittent flashes of light, the deafening thunder, the pang on her belly, the fire in her legs—all pushed out of focus. Only one thought stood at the forefront.

Can't…get…left behind again!

She was so dead-set on keeping up with Daring that she failed to notice the ground disappear.

Daring grabbed Velvet's hind legs. “Whoa whoa whoa, stop!”

The blood rushed to Velvet's head. She fell forward and found herself staring at an abyss. The abyss stared back and bore its teeth: a wide collection of sharp stalagmites, complete with a skeleton wedged between.

The tug of Daring's forelegs sent Velvet hurtling back to safety. At the other side of the abyss, the neon green glow of chemical light sticks taunted her. The chasm was too wide to jump across.

"Shit!" Darting her head around, Velvet put her hooves to her mane. "Can't you carry me across?!"

"Not when we're weighed down with these saddlebags, I can't! And we're not leaving our stuff behind!" 

Luckily, Daring had other courses of action in mind. She unfurled her whip and snagged it at a gnarled root on the ceiling in one swift, smooth motion. A puff of air escaped Velvet's mouth as Daring shoved the handle of the whip at her side.

“Grab onto it!”

Velvet's eyes traced the handle of the whip to its tip. Sand sifted and fell from a root on the ceiling.

“Are you nuts? That thing isn't going to hold me!”

Thunder and crumbling caused both mares to look down the tunnel where they came from. Rocks and pebbles flew in the air. The flashes of light brightened. The arcs were closing in.

“Argue later!” Daring took flight and flew to the chemical light sticks. “See you on the other side!”

Velvet's ears folded as she was left holding the handle of the whip. Gritting her teeth, she took one last look at the electric tsunami and decided she didn't want an encore of their performance.

Velvet closed her eyes, bent her back knees, and grasped the whip.

She stepped off.

“Oh craaaaaaap!! Oof!”

The wind howled across Velvet's ears for half a second. A hard landing knocked the wind out of her lungs and scraped her forelegs. Velvet instinctively wiggled her back legs.

There was no ground below them.

Daring managed to snatch Velvet's front hoof. Grunting, the pegasus flapped her wings as she pulled Velvet up to her hooves. A flash from the lightning avalanche highlighted the shadow of Daring's whip, twisting out of the root with every strike. 

The whip dislodged. It fell into the chasm. Daring's eyes widened.	

Reacting quickly, Velvet caught the whip with her magic just before it joined the skeleton in the stalagmites below.

“Unicorn, remember?!” echoed Velvet, her smile and her voice quivering from both fear and adrenaline. “Just making myself useful!”

As the two mares galloped away, the cacophonous cascade of thunderclaps subsided. Seconds passed by without a single flash of light, arc of electricity, or heck, even a gnarled rock formation or petrified creature. The two ponies slowed to a canter, and Velvet could finally hear herself think, not to mention her body trying to put the brakes on her heartbeat. 

Velvet leaned on the cave wall and panted. “H-hey,” she huffed out while reaching a hoof towards Daring, “can…can we stop for a while?”

Daring said nothing. She simply stood in place and took her notebook out with her wings. Velvet seized the opportunity and slumped on the wall.

“Having fun?” Daring glanced at Velvet.

Velvet glared daggers—maybe "lightning bolts" would've been more fitting—at Daring. "Oh yeah, sure. Smacked my noggin at a rock, almost became a rock, lost one-fourth of my tail." She sputtered a bit, then attempted to compose herself before showing the still-smoking tail hairs to Daring. "D-do you know how long it took to grow this? Now I won't be able to curl it around Night Light's nape."

Daring rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry."

Velvet chuckled. “But hey, I'm having fun all the same. Ten outta ten.”

Sure, nearly getting electrocuted or turned to stone weren't “fun” in any sense of the word, but Velvet couldn't say no to the sweet, familiar tingle of adrenaline. If only these sorts of rushes would come during the event rather than after…

The sound of shifting rocks shook Velvet back to reality. "Dead end," muttered Daring as she put her notebook away and scoped the tunnel. "Nothing in my uncle's notes about this part of the cave. Lightning statues, yes, but not what was at the end..."

Her eyes chanced upon a loose pile of rocks to her right. Both Daring and Velvet's irises shimmered when a stone fell from the top of the rock pile and revealed a shaft of light.

"Hold on..."

A swift flying kick from Daring's hind legs sent the rock pile collapsing forwards. Warm, yellow rays of light caused Velvet's eyes to shimmer and reinvigorated her aching legs. Heart still pounding in her throat, she got to her hooves. No rest for the weary.

“That wasn't so hard.”

The two mares walked through the newly created hole. Greeting them was a spacious central chamber several stories high and covered in rustic, brownish-orange sandstone. The ghostly howl of the cave was gone, and while there were still several dark areas, for the most part, warm sunlight made the cave well-lit. So much so, in fact, that Daring turned off her headlamp and took her helmet off, allowing it to fall to the ground. As Velvet took the headlamp and placed it in her saddlebags, Daring's eyes surveyed the gentle atmosphere.

“Look at that…” Daring pointed to several holes on the ceiling, shafts of light bursting forth from them. “Natural ventilation and illumination. At least we won't be suffocating in the dark down here."

Lying down on a flat rock and letting her saddlebags slide off her back, Velvet basked in the sunlight. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes as her screaming legs got the rest they so badly craved. 

Velvet opened her eyes and looked at Daring. “What is this place?”

“The buffalo say it's a prison for some kind of god,” Daring said as she began to wander around the cavern. “But that was all Gallant had been able to extract. They didn't want to talk about it after that.”

The warmth still tingling her extremities, Velvet scoped the area. Sure, it was barren. Could use a TV, a fridge, and maybe a potted plant or two, but a prison? If this was a prison, I'd hate to think what Tartarus looks like.

"Odd, though..." continued Daring as she approached the sandstone walls, "normally I would expect walls made of grayish limestone like what we saw earlier. Maybe the cave we passed through isn't naturally connected with this one.”

"So you're saying somepony dug a tunnel through this area in order to reach this cave?" said Velvet. 

"Sounds about right." Daring shrugged. "With the right magic, even a pre-industrial tribe can cut through rock."

Several minutes of silence followed. Before Velvet knew it, Daring was already several yards away, the cave's acoustics amplifying her grumbles to an audible volume despite the distance. “My uncle never got this far. Hell, I don't even know if Indra's Bow is here.”

The color drained from Velvet's face.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“Yeah, for all we know, Uncle Ad was wrong.” Daring sat on a rock, took off her pith helmet, and flipped through her notebook while putting a hoof to her forehead. “Agh, what am I missing?”

Velvet groaned. “That's it?” Velvet's exclamation echoed through the chamber. “We went through all that messed-up shit in the tunnels just for a dead end?”

"Just a minor setback, is all. We'll think of something." Daring looked up from her book, but Velvet waved her off.

Her eyes chanced upon a small fulgurite lying on the ground. She picked it up with her magic and fiddled around with it. “Oh yeah, brilliant plan, Twilight,” she muttered under her breath, “just follow the mule who doesn't have any idea what the hell's going on.”

The cloaked mare's face came to the forefront of her mind, followed by the lie she'd told Night Light back in Canterlot. Velvet cupped her face in her hooves. Joining Daring was a gamble, and she'd gotten a bad hand. Killing somepony and lying to her fiancé was one thing—make that two things—but to have nothing to show for it? She hadn't come far, and already Velvet didn't want to go home.

So much for her story.

“Son of a bitch!” Velvet punctuated her curse by throwing the fulgurite onto a wall.

The chamber flashed a bright yellow. A loud, sharp crack bounced around the walls. Every muscle in Velvet's body shook as a multicolored bolt of electricity arced across the chamber and into a higher part of the cave wall. Velvet slammed her eyes shut, the afterimage of the bolt searing through her retinas.

“Velvet, what was that?” Daring said

“Sorry!”

“No, actually… Can you do that again?”

Velvet took another fulgurite and threw it at the wall. Sure enough, it produced another ear-splitting lightning bolt that arced into the higher part of the cave wall. When the thunderous echo subsided, Daring pointed to something on the cave wall—a darkened, smoking patch of rock, cracks forming on its surface.

Daring smiled. “Just another hunch, but ten bits says that is where Indra's Bow is.”

“Wanna bet?” Velvet took a small wallet from her saddlebags as Daring flew to the darkened rock. The pegasus glared at Velvet, causing the latter to form a crooked smile.

“It's your money.”

“Eh, there's a lot more where it came from. Besides, even if I lose, at least I know my time wasn't wasted here.”

Velvet watched Daring fly up to the slab, paw at its surface, then follow up with a quick jab. Pieces of the slab crumbled and fell to the cave floor, leaving behind sizable fissures. "You know, I just realized something," Daring said as she continued to inspect the slab. "Why do you suppose that lightning avalanche a few minutes ago stopped?"

"You saw how the lightning traveled, didn't you?" Velvet took some time to fix her mane curl while answering Daring's question. "It jumps from one statue or fulgurite rock formation to the next, though it also sends out a couple of deviant arcs that just fly to random directions and explode." Velvet's tail reflexively swished. "The lightning does seem to have a thing—dare I say kink—for attacking organic matter, however." 

"That...doesn't really answer my question." Daring faced Velvet.

"After that chasm where you made me use your whip, I noticed that there weren't any more of those fulgurite rock formations or statues around. No place for the arcs to connect."

With the curl at the back of her neck now fixed, Velvet stood up and walked towards Daring. "But all that aside, can you get to the artifact?"

Daring pounded the slab one more time. “No can do. This looks like quartzite. You need a battering ram to dislodge it.”

“Or explosives.” Velvet held up a small fulgurite with her magic just as Daring turned to look at her. "I'll stuff these fulgurites into the cracks on the slab, then break the fulgurites apart. The lightning will try to cut its way to the artifact, and boom! Instant fireworks!"

The twinkle that flashed in Velvet's irises caused Daring to fold her ears and frown. “This won't end well.” 





“Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaap!!”

Darting around in the air, Daring flapped for all she was worth as Velvet held on for dear life. “Well, you wanted to get in, didn't you?” the unicorn yelled.

Daring dared to look down as she dodged another flying rock. “Where in Celestia's name did you did learn to do this?!”

"Do...what?"

"Calculate explosive energy!"

“I, um, well…”

The shaking subsided as Daring dropped her onto the rocks with a thump. “Never mind.”

“I'm surprised you can carry my weight,” commented Velvet. "Didn't you tell me you weren't a good flyer back in the train?"

“Well, they”—Daring stretched—“say fat is less dense than muscle.”

“And Daring's head is the densest of all,” Velvet shot back.

The slab was gone, replaced by a swirling, pale-brown dust cloud with a glowing center. Velvet's mouth hung open as the glow in the dust cloud jostled out of place and fell to the ground. She raised a hoof, poised to approach it, but Daring barred her with her leg. “Not yet. Wait for it to cool.”

When the dust had settled, the source of the glow made itself known: a flat, brown object with the faintest light escaping through its various engravings. Half of its edges were jagged, while the other half was round, like the object began life as a circular dish, only to be cut somewhere down its lifespan. Velvet and Daring approached the object, the latter scooping it up with her trowel and bringing it to eye level. Velvet's mouth fell agape. It was one thing to view a piece of ancient history in a museum, but to actually discover one for herself? To be close enough to touch it?

Not as thrilling as a cross-country motorbike ride, but it came close.

“Fifteenth century.” Daring held Indra's Bow in her wings while putting a hoof on her chin. “These circular swirling patterns suggest Marwari ancestry, but–”

“‘Marwari?’”

“You know, land of curry, chakrams, that kind of stuff.”

Velvet nodded her head and let out a half-bewildered “Oh.”

Her attention was turned to various, faded bumps on the piece. “Check these out. Looks like somepony was trying to go for the jewel-encrusted route without the jewels.”

“Huh,” muttered Daring. “Most pre-industrial art from the Marwari region contains gems. Maybe Meadowbrook the Fourth couldn't get her hooves on it for whatever reason.”

A screech echoed through the cave. The investigation was cut short. Velvet and Daring flinched, a familiar sound filling the air.

There was that buzzing voice again.

Dropping the piece, Daring stood on her hind legs and unfurled her whip. Both her and Velvet's heads darted around, scanning the chamber for the source of the noise.

A bright glow crossed the upper corner of Velvet's vision.

“Daring, over there!”

It had only been a couple of seconds, but Velvet could have sworn she'd seen another pony. A bright glow coming from their fur overpowered even the sunlight coming into the holes on the ceiling. Even after the mystery mare slipped out of sight, the arcs it left in its wake welded themselves into Velvet's and Daring's minds. 

"Who...what...was that?" asked Velvet.

Daring took the piece of Indra's Bow and put it in her saddlebag. “Our cue to scram. I sure as hell don't want to meet that pony a second time and get turned to stone.”

As Daring made her way back to the entrance, Velvet took her own saddlebags from the rock she had been sitting on. She turned her head towards the natural skylights, now free of any trace of the mystery mare, and cupped her hooves on her mouth.

“I'm sure you have an electric personality, but we sort of have a prior engagement!”

Daring whacked Velvet upside the head.

“Ow! That hurt!”





As with most journeys, the return trip was usually the uneventful part. Having been acquainted with the tunnel's hazards and having triggered the majority of the fulgurite rock formations and statues, Velvet and Daring had gotten back through the tunnels without much hassle, filling up much of their time with small talk. The thrill of a find was still fresh on Velvet's mind, not to mention the fact that she was a part of it. These manifested themselves in the humming of the theme song from some old film she'd seen once. Only once—except for that minecart chase scene: she had that on repeat in her VHS for weeks.

Do do do-doooo do do dooooo...

“So how did you do that thing with your whip earlier?”

“Manipulating the air around the whip with my passive pegasus magic.” Daring gestured a hoof in the air. Velvet's fur stood, tickled by swirling air currents that told the rules of classic fluid dynamics to piss off. “Useful for wrapping it around objects.”

“I can think of more interesting uses for it, if you catch my drift.” Velvet smirked, then bumped a shoulder into Daring. “Top or bottom?”

“I…uh…I'm not into that sort of thing. Other stallions, on the other hoof….”

A long moment passed, interrupted only by the echoing drip of groundwater.

“Say”—Daring turned to Velvet—“you're worried about Eve… uh… whatever her name is?”

“It's Evy,” corrected Velvet, placing emphasis on the last syllable.

“I'll try to keep that in mind.”

Velvet rolled her eyes. “Try.” As if.

“Relax,” continued Daring “We're in the middle of the desert. It's not like there are carjackers…or motorbike-jackers, in this case, lurking in the bushes.”

“There's hardly even any bushes.”

“Exactly!” Daring laughed.

Velvet's ears twitched. A metallic click echoed behind her.

She had to jinx it, didn't she?

An orange light appeared from the corner of the tunnel ahead of them, followed by the sound of hooves and shuffling clothing. At the corner of Velvet's vision, Daring reached for her trowel.

The cold touch of hard steel pressing on the backs of their heads dissuaded them from such interventions.

“On the ground, now.” A stallion's voice, icy as the guns being pointed at their heads, caused Velvet's breathing to quicken. She looked at Daring for an answer, and the pegasus looked back, raised her front legs and sat on her hind legs. More ponies came out of the corner, all training their guns onto Velvet and Daring.

Velvet's mouth quivered.

“F-friends of yours?”
> Chapter 9: Riding Tandem
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Volt, come in. We got the target.”

All the gunponies kept their weapons pointed at Twilight Velvet and Daring Do. While Velvet attempted to steady her breathing, her eyelids shuttered at the glare of the gunponies' harsh, angle-head flashlights. She creased her eyebrows and bit her lip. 

Beginner's luck had failed her.

Velvet turned her head to survey the gunpony towering over her from behind. Tan fatigues covered him from the neck down. There were knee-pads on his hind legs and a black vest on his torso holding several rifle magazines. A microphone near his mouth, plus a headset covered by a cap, told Velvet that whoever these goons were, they were more than just garden-variety desert bandits from the Evil Overlord Surplus Store.

“How'd they track us?” Velvet whispered to Daring.

“They must've read my notebook after they knocked you out in the train.” Daring shrugged.

“And you didn't swoop in and prevent them from doing that why?”

“Shut up, alright! I didn't know you could teleport! Took me a while to figure out you were headed to the back of the train.”

Smack! Cool metal struck sharply against the side of Daring Do's head, the crack echoing through the caves. Velvet winced as Daring pressed her hoof to the now-bloodied side of her head.

“Noisy little broodmare, ain't she?” grumbled the hired-hoof behind them, followed by a lot of uneasy laughter. “Now be a good little filly or I'll give you a few extra holes.”  

“Hopefully, that won't be necessary.” Gunponies in front of Velvet and Daring turned their heads to the new voice. Seconds later, the white glow of a chemical stick heralded the arrival of a single earth pony.

“Familiar face?” whispered Velvet.

“No…” Daring frowned, barely flinching at her head wound. “But I have a hunch.”

Looming over Velvet and Daring's kneeling forms, the earth pony stepped closer, her orange coat almost glowing under the white light. The creases on her khaki shirt folded as they slid past her black vest. Velvet squinted at two shapes jostling at her two brown shoulder holsters.

“Thunder, Night.” The earth pony looked at the two gun ponies behind Velvet. Her indoor voice proved surprisingly resonant to Velvet's ears, though maybe it was just the acoustics of the cave walls. The gunponies behind Velvet walked to the earth pony, and the earth pony put a hoof on one of the gunponies' shoulders, the warm smile on her face partly covered in shadow. 

“Nice catch. You did good. Regroup with the others outside; I'll take it from here.” 

She seemed nice enough. Maybe getting captured wasn't that big of a deal.

The thought was immediately banished from Velvet's mind when the earth pony turned to stare down at her. Icicles sprouted from her eyes and knocked away whatever hope Velvet scrounged up. The earth pony's unflinching walk, plus her domineering presence, exacerbated the shaking in Velvet's limbs. Velvet's muscles tensed. Her breathing trembled. Her instinct screamed at her to hug Daring like a childhood blankie, but now that the earth pony was approaching her only ally in this pickle, maybe it would be best to keep to herself for now.

The earth pony mare craned her head downwards and glared into Daring's eyes. Daring glared back, returning with a fierce scowl.

“The undeniably, unquestionable, unstoppable Daring Do.” The mare's alto reverberated around the cave walls and shook Velvet's spine. Daring, however, kept herself steady, save for the rising and falling of her heaving chest.

“Who sent you?” Daring said through a growl. “Ahuizotl? Doctor Caballeron?”

Velvet cocked her head. Who...were those guys?

“Never heard of them…” 

Oh, good. At least they could agree on something.

“But my client is my business, not yours.” The earth pony then tilted her head to Daring's side. “Miles,” she said as she gestured a hoof at a stallion to Daring's right, “be a dear and search our pegasus friend, will you?”

The gunpony complied with a “Yes, ma'am” and set to work digging through Daring's saddlebags. Velvet, meanwhile, took a moment to examine the earth pony mare's brick red mane: an elaborate combination of two styles. The right side was pulled into a smooth and slick bun, while the left was braided in a way similar to the pegasi of old. If her muscles hadn't frozen in fear, she would have cocked her head. Nonetheless, two words managed to escape her lips.

“Your mane…” Velvet began. 

The mercenary leader turned. “What about it?”

“A little too pretty for a gritty mercenary, don't you think?”

“Don't laugh. We all have our hobbies.”

“And I take it this”—Velvet gestured a hoof at the gunponies pointing their weapons at Daring and rummaging through her bags—“is your hobby too?”

The mare began a slow creep towards Velvet, the sound of rocks crunching underhoof drowning out Miles's rummaging. The mare's icy gaze caused Velvet to shrivel. She shouldn't have opened her big mouth like a naughty little filly. The muscles in Velvet's forelegstensed, then locked in place, as if bracing themselves for the incoming punishment.

And punishment it was.

The world went dark and silent. Velvet fell to the ground and cried out. A stinging, buzzing sensation surged from her temple and into the rest of her body. Her muscles felt like they were being stabbed from the inside by various needles, reducing her movement to violent twitching. When she opened her eyes, the first thing to catch her attention was the cascade of yellow electrical arcs snaking around her forelegs.

Agh… Bitch! Velvet had to fight through the pain just to think.

Several seconds seemed like several hours. When motor control returned to her muscles, Velvet rolled onto her back. The earth pony towered over her, one of her holsters empty. Her mouth held a silver rod with a black handle, its shaft sprinkling bright yellow strobes of light. Velvet thought she saw the slightest sliver of a spark form on its handle.

“Okay. Okay…” Velvet coughed out. “Got off on the wrong hoof. Totally deserved that.” One of her forelegs then extended towards the earth pony, and she tried her best to exude a welcoming demeanor—even if the pained grimace on her face said otherwise. “Let's take this from the top. My name's Twilight Velvet. What is your name?”

The earth pony said nothing.

“Let me guess,” interjected Daring. “Terra Alessandra Volt.”

Almost in sync, Velvet and the earth pony jerked their heads towards Daring. “You know her?” Velvet blurted out.

“Not really. I've heard rumors, but we've never met before.” Daring turned to the earth pony. “Remember Derringer? Told me all about you.”

“He was a mule,” Volt replied. “I offered him a high-paying position in Blitzgruppe and he refused. Shame. Ex-special forces—he would have made ideal mercenary material.”

“That ‘mule’ is my second cousin,” growled Daring. 

Volt rolled her eyes. “Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, apparently.”

“Volt,” Miles interrupted, “I found something.”

As Volt walked to Miles, Velvet scoped the cavern. The two other gunponies in the area had since adopted a quadrupedal stance, though their weapons remained at the ready, slung in front of their chests. No way she and Daring could take them on, not without a distraction.

Velvet's eyes then drifted to the darkness behind Volt and Miles—the darkness where just a few minutes before, she and Daring were casually chatting after a fresh find. Just as Velvet was about to look away, her eyes caught a branch. Next to the stalactite where she'd conked her head earlier, the gnarled shape was barely illuminated by the peripheral light of the gunponies' angle-head flashlights.

It was one of the fulgurite rock formations she saw in the entrance.

“Why don't you just get it over with?” Daring butted in, hearkening to Volt's earlier threat.

“What? You mean kill you?” Volt's voice snapped Velvet back to reality. She caught sight of the mercenary commander getting up and holding two objects up in her hooves: Daring's notebook and the first piece of Indra's Bow. “No need. I got what I came for. I always do. You? You were just in the way. My boss can take things from here.”

“Actually, the piss-colored one has a point…” Miles's voice was bright—uncomfortably so, for somepony holding a firearm. “…why don't we just get it over with right here?” A cocky grin spread across his face. “I've been meaning to give my gun a good workout for a while now.”

“Your gun or your other gun?” Velvet asked, an eyebrow raised.

Miles seemed to consider for a moment. “Yes.” 

Velvet snorted and frowned. Lovely vacation this was shaping up to be.

Volt glanced downwards and creased her eyebrows. “Good idea. Want to do the honors?”

Miles nodded. “Sure, and let's get Hunter and Rain in on this too. Fun for the whole family!”

The first sound to reach Velvet's ears was a click from the submachine guns held by the stallions in front of her and Daring. The second sound was her heart being kicked into overdrive. The stallions had sprung to a bipedal stance and now had their weapons trained on them. Volt walked to the side of one stallion and eyed him and his partner.

“You heard Miles.”

Velvet took one last look at the gnarled rock formation deep into the cave, then close her eyes. No special equations needed this time. Any electric arc created on the fly would do.

Velvet's horn sparked. The mercenaries had only just begun to flinch when an arc flew from the tip of Velvet's horn and into the gnarled rock. A crumbling sound sent a small, satisfied smile spreading across her face.

Kaboom.

A thunderous boom rattled everypony's eardrums. The mercenaries' heads jerked upwards from the noise and the flash. 

“What the–”

As the shrapnel and grit exploded outward, striking friend and foe alike, everything seemed to slow down to a crawl. Daring flapped upwards. Her hind legs snapped backwards and connected with Miles's face, the buck sending the mercenary tumbling into the lightning avalanche. Daring slammed the mercenary in front of her to the ground. Her front hooves took the stallion's rifle and repeatedly bludgeoned its owner in the neck. 

Velvet herself wasted no time. She flopped onto the stallion in front of her, sending both ponies to the ground. Turning to Volt, Velvet's magic pummeled the mercenary's head against the wall, then quickly collected Daring's notebook and the artifact as they flew from Volt's hooves.

The stallion under Velvet grasped Velvet's hooves and attempted to push her off. Two rounds from Daring's newly acquired rifle put him down. The thunderous encore encroaching, Velvet galloped away, Daring taking the airborne route and slinging the rifle onto her body.

Velvet looked back at the tunnel. Volt was getting up. She took one look at Velvet, but then focused her attention at the glowing avalanche of sparks when a voice called out.

“Volt!”

“Miles!” Volt turned around. She put a hoof on the ground at Miles' direction, but stopped when Miles extended his own foreleg. Everything waist down had turned to stone, and unlike last time, there was no pile of rocks to abate the avalanche.

“No! Save yourself! It's too late for me!”

Velvet looked away and continued galloping for the entrance. Another thunderclap, plus Miles' scream, shook the cave walls. However, Miles was a fighter. He groaned, his voice still audible even as it faded into the distance. 

“I'll warn the others at the entrance! Now get out of here!”

As Miles's final cry of pain echoed through the cave walls and into Velvet's mind, she turned her head towards Daring. “What about Miles and Volt?!” panted out Velvet.

“Why do you even care?! Honestly, fuck 'em. I'm sure the groundskeeper wouldn't mind two more statues to add to her collection!”

It didn't take long for them to reach the light at the end of the tunnel. It would have been a welcome sign, were it not for the shouts and bullets of mercenaries coming out of it. Daring and Velvet dove for cover behind some rock outcrops, the latter yelping as she put her hooves over her head.

Daring fired several shots, then hunkered down before a stream of bullets could reach out and perforate her. “Two fireteams with machine guns!” Daring coughed when rifle fire chipped the outcrop and kicked up dust. “What are they compensating for?”

A flash of light and a crack of thunder from inside the cave told Velvet they were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“No way we're going back either!” Velvet shrank behind the outcrop, averting her eyes from the gunponies outside.

Crossing her vision were several twisted, branched stones lying on the ground. She gasped: one was precariously close to her tail. Her instinct sent her tail upwards to avoid the fulgurites, causing it to get sizzled by several bullets. 

Oh, that's just great! Night loved my tail…especially when I curled it around… Not the time!

Velvet produced a plastic bag from her saddlebags and used it to scoop the fulgurites along with some sand. Focusing her magic on one stone, Velvet peeked out of cover and lobbed the stone towards the mercs outside.

“Catch!” The stone exploded like a ten-ton firecracker. 

Everypony outside who wasn't flying collapsed. Daring immediately flew outside, her rifle making short work of the pegasi and other survivors. She then knelt over one of the mercs she gunned down, pilfering his pockets of magazines. Velvet cantered out, watching multicolored, etheric sparks petrify the writhing bodies of the ground-bound mercenaries and silence their anguished moans. 

The sight would have sent a chill down Velvet's spine if she and Daring weren't in such a hurry to escape the hot, sweltering desert.





Several minutes later, Daring and Velvet found themselves traveling down a gully, the occasional desert rock providing some split-second shade. They stopped briefly to put their saddlebags in the cargo compartment on Evy's back, but other than that, Evy had been running nonstop across the desert. 

Velvet took her left hoof from the handlebar to straighten her motorcycle helmet, causing Evy to wobble slightly. From the back, Daring clung to her pith helmet with one hoof and Evy's side with the other, then straightened the clips strapped to a bandolier, another parting gift from the mercs, when the bike stabilized. 

“So what happened to Ms. ‘Keep up or I'll Leave You Behind?’” Velvet's voice adopted a deep, guttural rasp that scratched her larynx.

“I told you: I'm not exactly Wonderbolt material,” Daring retorted. 

"But you managed to keep up with the train, didn't you?"

"First of all, that's the New Friendship Express, not a Neighponese bullet train." From Evy's side mirrors, Velvet caught sight of Daring's wings struggling to keep themselves folded. "Second, that's my top flight speed, not my average speed. There's no way I can keep up with Eve–”

It was Velvet's turn to growl.

“Sorry, Evy. And besides, you do want to make yourself useful, right?”

“Damn right.”

“Then shut up and drive, Jeeves.”

Velvet rolled her eyes. “Thanks…”

When Velvet faced front again, the end of the gully was in sight, with two large, broad rocks standing guard on both sides. “So where do we go from here?”

From the side mirrors, Velvet watched Daring tip her helmet as she faced the afternoon sun behind them. “Let's try to head east; most of the towns and villages are towards that direction. If all else fails, we're bound to find some train tracks that we can use to trace to civilization.”

Before Velvet could nod in assent, a familiar, yet foreign noise whispered in her ears. Those engines in the distance weren't Evy's.

“Twilight?” Daring tapped on Velvet's shoulder.

Velvet squeezed the throttle.

“We're being followed!”

A motorcycle revved from behind them. Using the broad rock on the left as a ramp, it leapt into the air, eclipsing the sun and showering Velvet and Daring with dust. From the side view mirror, Velvet saw the cyclist raise her hoof and unwrap a cylindrical object with her hooves.

“Grenade!” 

Daring retaliated with her rifle. The enemy cyclist cartwheeled into the ground. Her vehicle skidded on the sand and shredded a bush, an explosion from the dropped grenade confirming the kill. More engines revved with bloodlust, dirt and death about in the desert air.

Cut off one head, two more take its place. 

“Oh, come on! Do they respawn or something?!” Velvet shouted over the motorcycles closing in on them: one on the left, one behind. The cyclist at the left had his pistol drawn. 

“Get us closer to that motorbike on the left!” barked Daring.

Evy jerked right, then left, dodging a volley of bullets from the enemy cyclist's pistol. Daring's rifle sounded off, leaving five splashes of sand in the motorcycle's wake.

“Dammit! This is no time for tricks!” Daring grabbed Evy's flanks and instinctively flapped her wings. 

“It's not a trick!” Velvet's voice cracked as Evy accelerated from the turn. “It's called counter-steering! Have a little more faith in me and Evy!”

Velvet strangled a switch on one of Evy's handlebars. A whirring sound and a pungent odor told Velvet that Evy's arcanite-nitrous booster was working its magic. Sure enough, a surge in Evy's cylinders righted her back up and allowed her to close in on the motorcycle to the left. 

Before the mercenary could fire his pistol, two bursts from Daring's rifle struck the swing arm of his motorcycle. The bike broke in half. Sand flew into the air. 

And something buzzed in the back of Velvet's mind.

A bullet whistled past Velvet's ear before she could celebrate the small victory. Her body reflexively shoved itself downwards. Velvet yelped. “Crap! Daring, is there anypony behind us?!”

“Yeah!” Gritting her teeth, Daring waved the rifle in her hooves as she twisted her body backwards. Bullets sailed everywhere except the motorcycle tailing them. “Can't get a clean shot!”

“Hard left!” Velvet called out. Evy roared in assent.

“W-w-wait!” Daring's voice cracked. “What do you mean ha–”

Evy banked left. Her wheels kicked up a tsunami of sand. Daring's wings fought to keep her face and body from becoming a smear on the ground.

After Evy finished her 270-degree spin and came to a stop, Velvet's hoof planted itself on the sand. “There!” shouted Velvet. “That clear enough of a shot for you?!”

Daring's reply came in the form of a controlled burst of bullets towards the motorcyclist, now at Evy's right. His front wheel fell off, and the mercenary painted the ground with his face.

Velvet winced. And she thought the train shootout was intense.

The sound of more distant engines reached both Velvet's and Daring's ears. The pegasus looked behind, then goaded Velvet's back.

“Gun it! They've got a technical!”

“A what?!”

Velvet's answer was a bullet kicking up sand mere inches from Evy's pedals, followed by gunshots fired so close together they sounded like a buzzsaw.

“A pickup truck with a mounted machine gun!” Daring clarified. “Now step on it!”

As fascinating as learning new shit from Madam Daring was, Velvet didn't have to be told twice to put her pedal to the metal. Calling on the power of the nitrous gods a second time, Velvet catapulted herself, Daring, and her bike straight into a field of desert plants. 

Machine gun rounds whizzed past them. Daring reloaded her rifle and made a feeble attempt to return fire. Weaving through bushes and cacti, Velvet rounded behind a large rock. Her fur stood, each bullet sending vibrations through the air and into her skin.

Soon, the firing stopped. The technical was nowhere in sight, so Velvet let go of the switch on Evy's booster.

“Okay.” Velvet sucked in a breath as she led Evy away from the rock and continued to traverse the field. “They won't be able to follow us here—” Velvet glanced at Daring “—where next?”

Daring pointed to a steep plateau to the east. 

“Head up that mountain?” Velvet echoed Daring's thoughts. “It's got a narrow road. Maybe they won't be able to follow us.”

Daring rolled her eyes. “Wishful thinking.”

Velvet pursed her lips. "Boy, glad you're not a self-help author."

“But it is toward the east,” continued Daring. “And it's not like we can stay here forever.”

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Velvet turned Evy south and sped towards the plateau. The two ponies still hadn't gotten out of the field of desert plants, though at least the rocks provided them with some shade—even if it didn't last for long.

“Oh, by the way…” Daring butted in.

“Hmm?”

“It's called a mesa, not a mountain.”

Velvet rolled her eyes. “Shut up and let me drive, otherwise they're gonna make a mesa out of us.”

    “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

    “No shame here.” Velvet revved the engine.

Almost in chorus with Evy, another foreign engine entered the fray just as Evy had begun to speed off. Two motorcycles and a jeep popped out from behind a second boulder. On top of the now-familiar din of gunfire, Velvet heard several zapping noises from the lead motorcyclist's horn. One bolt of yellow magic grazed Velvet's helmet and cracked the visor. White streaks blocking her vision, Velvet yanked her helmet off with her magic, revealing a face twisted in rage, her eyes glowing a boiling red.

“Oh COME ON!! Give us a break! Don't you asshats have anything better to do?!”

“We're probably worth our weight in bits to them!” Daring replied after a couple of bursts. “I'd say they're making the most of their time!”

Daring proceeded to unload her rifle, splashing the sand around the three vehicles. Velvet yanked the handlebars left and right, weaving Evy across all kinds of desert plants—half of which she'd never seen before. Her shoulders instinctively shrugged when Daring's elbow made contact with her spine.

“Mind driving straight for once? I can't hit crap!”

“And get bumped off by a cactus?!” The last word came out high-pitched as Velvet swerved out of the way of a saguaro. “Case in point! Besides, I keep moving so they can't hit crap either!"

Daring stopped shooting and looked back. "Are you suggesting that I'm crap?!"

"No!" A sliver of a grin made its way to Velvet's mouth. "Only that you're a crap shooter!"

"Well, I'm that, too. Just wait until we can get into a casino!"

From the side mirrors, Velvet saw one of Daring's rounds connect with the farther motorcyclist. Her body tumbled through the ground and cut down a thin organ pipe cactus. Judging from Daring's continuous firing and the fact that the other motorcycle was still closing in on them, Velvet surmised that it must've been a lucky shot.

The firing stopped.

“I'm out!” Daring called out. “Reloading!”

The engine of the surviving mercenary's motorcycle transitioned from growling to squealing. Bolts of magic zipped from the mercenary's horn and towards Daring.

An audible clang, then Daring hissing in pain, reached Velvet's ears. A bolt of magic connected with the fresh magazine on Daring's hoof, causing her to drop it in the sand. The sound of the merc's motorbike transmuted from a growl into a squeal. 

Shit! He's trying to close in on us!

It didn't take long for the mercenary to pull up right beside Evy. Velvet and Daring could see fur around the merc's horn wrinkled as she pulled her eyebrows inward. 

Velvet tried to bump her off. 

The unicorn merc responded by swerving out of the way. “Oh no you don't!” the mercenary called out.

“Damn it!” Velvet growled. “This guy's good!”

Daring tapped Velvet's back and pointed to a gnarled shape in the distance. “Get closer to that yucca palm!” 

“What?! Why?”

“Trust me!”

Velvet revved Evy's engine. No booster this time—couldn't risk an overload. As the duo neared the yucca, the mercenary tailed them, firing the occasional blast of magic from her horn.

Evy wiggled. Velvet turned her head to see Daring leaning forward and spreading out her hind legs. “Don't get any ideas!” the pegasus yelled.

“Don't be shy!” Velvet suppressed a chuckle. “Evy swings both ways!”

The mercenary's front wheel was close enough to almost touch Evy's rear fender. The mercenary's horn glowed. Her eyes focused on Evy's engine while her mouth widened into a smile. “Time to turn you into scrap metal!”

Velvet gasped. "Any time now, Daring!"

The pegasus kicked her right leg outward. The mercenary dodged by swerving right.

“Really? Again?” The mercenary stuck her tongue out. “What makes you think that'll work a second ti–”

She crashed into the yucca palm.

Wreckage hurtled into the air, accompanied by the sound of crunching metal and cracking bones. Velvet stabilized the bike once again when Daring resumed her normal sitting position and finished reloading her rifle. 

“Nice!” declared Velvet.

“Don't celebrate yet.” Daring pointed to the jeep tailing them several yards behind. Velvet noted somepony, rifle slung over her shoulders and wings, getting out of the passenger's seat and climbing to the back. This time, the jeep brought more friends to the party: one four-by-four and three additional motorcycles. And that wasn't counting the technical catching up with Evy in the horizon.

Velvet didn't need to be told to keep moving, even though her hind legs could feel Evy's engine warming up. The unicorn's hoof tapped the front frame of her motorcycle. Just keep holding on, girl! 

“I'm down to my last mag,” warned Daring. “If I run out of ammo, it's going to be all your fault!”

Velvet saluted. “Glad to be of service!”

The next place Velvet decided to take Evy was up a mountain pass to the east. Velvet quickly shifted Evy's gears, hoping to strike a balance between getting traction on the slope and maintaining enough speed. Hopefully, they couldn't follow her into the narrow road.

The mercenaries maintained their proximity. In fact, some of them were getting closer.

Velvet rolled her eyes. This day just kept getting better and better.

The vehicles made their way up the side of the cliff. To the left was an upward slope that soaked up the bullets flying towards Velvet and Daring. Velvet's eyes then gravitated to the downward slope at the right, but jerked away and returned to focusing on the road. Target fixation! Don't look there, you mule! 

Daring's rifle produced several bursts. The first burst knocked out the front axle of one motorbike, sending it careening to a rock on the left slope. One of the jeeps emerged from the smoke, the riflemare on its rear retaliating with fire of her own. 

A clunk, barely audible amid the gunfire, caused Velvet to look back. Not only was Evy bleeding green fluid, but she was coughing out white smoke—and it wasn't coming from the exhaust pipe.

“No, no, no!” cried out Velvet. “Don't do this to me! Just a couple more miles!”

As if she heard Velvet's cries, Daring poured several bullets into the jeep driver's head. As Evy and the other mercs rounded an S-bend turn, the jeep kept moving forward, crashed through a metal barrier, and plummeted to the ravine below and out of sight.

Velvet waved a hoof at the doomed jeep. “That's what you get, you bastard!”

The riflemare popped out of the slope and back into view. 

“Have you forgotten about my wings?” Her raspy voice echoed from the slope as she took focused potshots at Velvet, Daring, and Evy. 

Daring ducked around, then punched a hole in the mercenary's left wing with a spray from her rifle. The pegasus merc spiraled to the road, prompting one of the motorcyclists to swerve and avoid the corpse.

“Thanks for the reminder!” Daring remarked, then turned her rifle to the jeep and motorcycle zeroing in on them. “Maybe that'll teach your buddies not to fly in a gunfight without cover!”

Click, click.

Velvet glanced at Daring. “Out of clips?!”

“They're called magazines!” Daring twisted her body to face front.

“This is no time to be arguing about that crap!” Velvet's heart raced. The surviving jeep and his motorcycle underlings were zeroing in from behind. “If that car bumps us off, we're dead!”

“We'll get him! Trust me!” exclaimed Daring as she leaned forward and spread her legs. “Now, when I say ‘Rut me,’ I want you to brake, okay?! Do it for only a second, then accelerate once you're done!”

“What kind of hare-brained scheme are you planning?!” Velvet's voice cracked.

“No scheme! I'm just making this up as I go!”

The jeep's front bumper was only a few feet away.

“Steady!” Daring barked.

At Evy's side mirrors, Velvet saw an earth pony pop out from the jeep's truck bed and grin as he aimed a machine gun way bigger than his actual gun could possibly be.

“Rut me!”

Evy's tires screeched. The jeep advanced in front of them. Daring kicked the driver with her hind hoof. He jerked the steering wheel counterclockwise and fell off the jeep just as Velvet strangled the accelerator and brought Evy out of the spinning car's wrath. Centrifugal force threw the machine gunner at the back off the side.

The first motorcycle pancaked the fallen machine gunner. The second tried to swerve out of the way, but ended up joining the jeep as it crashed into the cliff face. Boulders jostled from the slope and tumbled into the road, crumpling the three vehicles. The technical was lucky; farther ahead, it had time to coast to a stop. From Evy's side mirrors, however, Velvet could see the crew frown at the large orange rocks blocking the road.

Velvet laughed, then blew a raspberry at the mercs before disappearing behind a curve on the road.

“See you guys later!”





Upon reaching the top of the mesa, Evy slowed to trotting speed, snaking her way through the creosote bushes to the shadow of an orange boulder. As soon as she switched Evy's engine off, Velvet's ears picked up the distant sound of the technical driving away. They probably had better things to do than wait Evy out.

Velvet's heart was still pounding against her rib cage. That whole chase lasted…what: three minutes? Five minutes? But it felt like forever.

Daring dismounted from the motorcycle and unslung her rifle. It dropped to the ground, kicking up dust that blended with the pegasus's golden fur.

“Dead weight now.” Daring gave a long, mournful look. “Sorry to see a good AK go.”

She turned around just in time to see a wide, toothy grin on Velvet's face. The unicorn's hooves trembled while Daring cocked her head.

“Uh…”

“WOW!” Velvet's exclamation bounced off the boulder and caused Daring's ears to fold. “That was amazing! Just…holy crap!”

Daring returned Velvet's manic smile with a frown. “Dude, quit smiling like that. You look like you're going to cut somepony up with a chainsaw.”

Velvet perked her ears up. “Ooh, I can't wait to do that! You've done it before?”

Daring snorted, a suppressed laugh peeking through her poker face. “You're not right in the head.”

“Never was!”

Daring walked under the boulder's shade and lay on the ground, stretching her shirt outwards to let the soaked sweat evaporate. For a few seconds, no words were exchanged, the desert winds providing the only sound.

“Can I ask you something, Twilight?”

Velvet chuckled, then dismounted from Evy and crouched in front of the engine. “I'm the journalist here,” she said while inspecting the leak. “If anything, I'm the one who's supposed to be asking you questions.”

“Fair exchange. I answer your questions; you answer mine.” A sliver of a smirk appeared on Daring's face. “How did you meet your fiancé?”

“Oh, you know…” Velvet shrugged. “Serious, studious stallion meets wild, carefree mare in college; both decide they'd like to spend the rest of eternity together. That kind of stuff.”

Daring's face contorted into a frown. “That's it? C'mon, you're a journalist, aren't you? Give me those juicy journalistic details!”

“Look, it's a complicated story.” Velvet glanced aside and blushed. “Certainly not one I can summarize in a few sentences.”

Daring raised her hooves in defeat. “All right, fine. Your turn.”

Velvet walked over to Evy's cargo compartment, levitating out a notebook and a pen. “How did you learn to fight? You some kind of former Royal Guard?”

“I've already told you Derringer—my second cousin from Dad's side—he served in the Army Groundpounders. He taught me how to fight.”

“Huh.” Velvet glanced aside, then looked back at Daring. “I figured your uncle taught you. He fulfills the mentor trope.”

Daring huffed and shook her head. “Ha! Gallant True…teaching me how to fight? Don’t get me wrong; he aced the Mad Minute back when the Jungle Carbines were in style. But the assault rifle age wasn’t kind to him, so he passed the torch to Derringer.” She smacked her lips, the smile disappearing from her face. “In retrospect, that probably explains in part why he got in trouble when we…”

The rest of the answer trailed off with the desert wind, Daring blinking a few times and rubbing the back of her neck. 

Velvet furrowed her eyebrows. “Um, Do Dare?”

“Never mind.” Daring shook her head and tilted her pith helmet back. “I'll…go scout ahead.” 

“But you didn’t even—”

“You better get Evy patched up.” Daring didn’t even look back as she flapped to the eastern edge of the mesa, leaving Velvet behind in a small cloud of dust. After waving the dust off her face, Velvet kept her eyes fixed at Daring even while walking back to Evy.

Mare of many mysteries, wasn't she?

After placing the notebook and her pen back in the cargo compartment, Velvet crouched in front of Evy's engine. Green fluid bled from the engine, and upon closer inspection, Velvet pursed her lips and groaned.

“Just as I thought: radiator's hit.”

She didn't have to squint. The bullet had punched straight through the aluminum cores. A welding spell wasn't going to cut it; she needed iron to reconstruct the cores, and it wasn't like there was a junkyard within walking distance.

Groaning, she finally settled on sealing the leaking hole with epoxy. It wouldn't hold for long once they got going, but in the absence of anything else…

“Velvet! Get over here.”

Daring's voice caused Velvet to jolt, then gallop to the sound of Daring's voice. The pegasus tipped her pith helmet forwards. “Southeast, across the salt flat.”

Velvet narrowed her eyes towards the direction Daring pointed. There, past an open plain and behind some hills, a gray column danced near the horizon. “That looks like…”

“Smoke,” completed Daring, “and that means…”

“Fire?”

“I was going to say ‘civilization,’ but I guess that works too. Is your motorcycle fixed?”

“Eh…” Velvet contorted her face into an unsure expression. “More or less?”

“Good enough.” Daring blew a tuft of mane out of her face as she took off and flapped back to the rock.

“Wait, what?” Velvet trotted behind and creased her eyebrows. “You don't want to give Evy a rest?”

“The sooner we get to that village…camp…whatever is making the smoke, the sooner you and your mistress can have a real rest.”

Velvet raised a hoof to protest, only for the words to stop in her mouth. Daring did have a point…





Another mountain pass allowed Evy to make her way down the mesa. Now she was driving parallel to a row of rocks on her left. To her right was the salt flat, the horizon distinguishable only by several red hills and the lone wisp of smoke peeking out of them. The ground was cracked, though the surprisingly smooth ride told Velvet that it was safe to traverse.

“You mind telling me why you zoned out over there?” Velvet called to Daring. “This job of yours isn’t personal, is it?”

“It’s none of your business, Vel.”

“I may be accompanying you for the spectacle and the assistance—” Velvet shifted up a gear “—but I'm a journalist first and foremost! I've got to write something to justify these action movie antics of yours!”

“It's a complicated story,” echoed Daring.

“Try me. I'm a complicated pony!”

Daring opened her mouth to speak.

Three revving engines cut her off.

Velvet and Daring jerked their heads backwards. One jeep and one technical popped out of a gully. From the back of the lead jeep, a familiar earth pony stood on her hind legs and pointed at Velvet and Daring. Her brick-red mane flapped in the wind.

“There they are! Open fire!”

Lead filled the air. Velvet swerved Evy left and right—a feeble attempt to dodge bullets. “Holy mother of– how'd you get out of the cave?!” Velvet shouted over the din of gunfire. “Are you made out of liquid metal or something?!”

“Shut up and use your boost-thing to get us out of here!” Daring yelled. 

“And overheat the engine?! Are you crazy?!”

Clunk, clunk, clunk.

Evy stumbled. Velvet grimaced. Heat was brewing on her legs, and it wasn't the pleasurable kind. She peeked at Evy's engine, praying to Celestia that the bullets only dented the fender.

The engine coughed out black smoke and orange flames.

“Shit!”

Daring shoved Velvet in the back. “Hey! Drive straight! I've got an idea!” 

From behind, the technical fired another burst. Velvet swerved left and right, Evy's suspension trembling under her ass.

“Dammit, I said ‘Drive straight!’ I can't jump off when you're zigzagging like this!”

“‘JUMP OFF?!’” Evy lurched to the side as Velvet turned more than she meant to."You're a wellspring of good ideas!”

Another burst. The left side mirror shattered and catapulted glass fragments into Velvet's hoof. “Agh! Dammit! I am so done with this guy!” 

A weight shifted from the back. Velvet looked behind.

Before she could protest, Daring dismounted

Sweet Celestia's flaring sunbursts, this is insane!

Velvet faced front and straightened the surviving side mirror. The technical was at five o'clock—behind her, to the right—so Velvet swerved to get it directly behind her at 6 o'clock. Whatever harebrained plan Daring was cooking up, it seemed to be working. Velvet had to weave around wildly on the sand just to avoid the bullets splashing around her. It was a miracle she hadn't been hit. 

Shame Evy hadn't been as lucky. 

Meanwhile, Daring launched herself into the technical's machine gunner. Before the earth pony at the back could raise his machine gun, Daring slammed both her front legs onto his mouth, causing him to collapse into the bed of the technical. As Velvet veered left and glanced at the right side mirror to get a closer look, she saw Daring land on the back of the technical. She dragged the gunner's head to the bars lining the sides of the bed. 

A swift thrust downward, and the gunner ate the bars.

“Savage!” Velvet yipped as a bullet buzzed her rump.

Something glinted from the side mirror. Volt's jeep was closing in on the technical from behind. The mare at the back aimed her pistol at Daring.

“Daring, seven o'clock!”

Did Daring hear her warning? Velvet wasn't sure. Whatever the case, the pegasus ripped a grenade from the gunner's vest and dropped it in the bed. Bullets sailed all around the air as Daring flew back to Evy. 

She tore the cargo compartment off Evy's back.

Velvet stammered. “The hell?! How…why'd you–”

“Boost!” interrupted Daring as she ducked under a bullet whizzing past. “We need to get distance from that technical before it blows!”

“I can't believe this!” Velvet's voice cracked. “You want to execute both of your bad ideas?!”

“Just shut up and drive!” 

Before Velvet could protest further, Daring grabbed her hoof and squeezed it on the booster. Evy gasped, then squealed and reared backward. Velvet clung to handlebars as she desperately tried to balance the bike. 

Evy sped away, flames on her wake. 

Behind her, the air around the technical seemed to warp. A green fog engulfed the vehicle before it exploded in a high-pitched grinding noise.

“Holy shit!” yelped Velvet. “What was in that grenade you dropped?”

“Unicorn magic! It was the only grenade the gunner was carrying!”

Steadily applying the brakes, Velvet had to raise her hind hooves to avoid the fire on Evy's engine. The air around the booster was warping—not just from the non-magical orange flames from the engine, but from the blue and violet clouds and sparks erupting from the booster itself. The prognosis wasn't good.

But Evy was a stubborn bitch, right?

Her sporting days would probably end after this whole affair blew off, but she could still serve as city transport. Just needed to overhaul the frame…and the radiator…and whatever was making coughing noises from the engine.

“Snap out of it, Vel!” Daring pointed to the left, where a third jeep had sped out of another boulder. “We're not out of the woods yet! Get closer to that jeep!”

“I would really appreciate it if you told me your plans in advance, you know!” Velvet spat.

“Just do it!”

Velvet complied, though not before letting out an exasperated grunt. Evy sputtered.

“No! Closer!”

The flames reached Evy's wheels. Velvet's nose wrinkled from the fumes and the sudden loss of suspension.

“That's it! Keep moving!”

The two mercenaries on the jeep turned their heads to Velvet and Daring. One of them, a pegasus at the back, hurriedly fumbled with a rifle.

“Daring, he's gonna crash into us!”

“That's the idea!”

“No no no wait—”

Daring shoved her out of the motorcycle. Velvet reflexively flung her hooves forward and landed in the passenger seat of the jeep, kicking her hind legs so she could drag herself upwards. The driver traded a shocked stare with Velvet, then reached for the knife on his belt.

A thud and two grunts sounded from the back. The driver's upper body flew forward, the knife slipping from his hoof and sliding down the hood of the jeep. Both Velvet and the driver jerked their heads to the back. Daring and the passenger were duking it out, the former smacking the latter's skull downward with Evy's amputated cargo compartment, spilling the contents onto the floor. 

Towards the side, Velvet caught sight of her motorcycle's tumble across the sand. The flaming engine gasped its last, and the wheels went airborne before Evy entered Valhalla in a blaze of glory.

“Evy! No!!”

Velvet's mourning was short-lived. A hammer punch from the driver slammed Velvet's temple into the parking brake. The pain was sharp, but brief. 

In an instant, her sorrow at Evy's death transmuted into unintelligible, screaming rage.

Velvet leapt forwards, ramming her horn into the driver's ribcage. An airy scream, then several gurgles and coughs, escaped the stallion's mouth. Spongy tissue pulsing through her horn, Velvet stuffed the nausea back into her subconscious. She wrenched her horn out of the stallion's body and shoved him out the jeep with telekinesis. Her eyes tracked the stallion's body rolling over several times.

“That was for Evy, you bastard!”

Velvet scrambled into the driver's seat and jerked the steering wheel left and right, attempting to stabilize the car. There was another audible thud from the back. Velvet adjusted the side mirror with her magic. Daring was lying on the floor of the jeep, looking at Velvet.

“Classic stick-shift,” Velvet panted out. “I…I can make this work!”

“You better!” Daring shouted. “I wouldn't want your mistress's death to be in vain!”

Daring grunted and curled into a ball. Her body spasmed at every kick the passenger delivered on her body. The passenger then stopped momentarily to prepare a good hard kick. Daring was quicker, however, and shot a hind leg at the passenger's kneecap.

But it failed to connect. The pegasus passenger leaped off the jeep and spread her wings, the rifle still slung on her body. She fumbled with the firearm for only a few seconds before stabilizing her flight and aiming down the sights.

Crack.

The passenger's steady flight turned into desperate flapping. A dark cord from the jeep had wrapped around her right wing, leaving the other appendage to do all the work.

“Get over here!” Daring bellowed. With one hoof, she yanked the whip, and with it, the passenger. Velvet could almost hear the wing bones snap. 

The passenger's body tumbled back into the jeep. As Velvet fought to stabilize the jeep with the steering wheel, Daring dropped her whip, stood up, and jerked the passenger's pink mane downwards. 

A trowel to the throat silenced the passenger's pained screams.

Daring twisted her trowel out. Blood stained her right hoof, foreleg, and shirt sleeve. The passenger's forelegs twitched, a stream of crimson soaking her fatigues. 

“Daring, quit dancing with that bitch!” Velvet ducked an incoming bolt of magic, then pointed at Volt's jeep, closing in at eight o'clock. “We've still got one more jeep on our tail!”

Daring slammed the trowel back into her holster and took the passenger's rifle.

It slipped off her hooves. The unicorn driver of Volt's jeep lit his horn, engulfing the tip of the rifle in an orange cloud and tossing the firearm over the edge. Daring's eyes traced the discarded gun, then turned back to the earth pony at the back of the jeep.

“Velvet, machine pistol!”

A spray of bullets came from behind. Daring hit the floor, while Velvet reacted by swerving the car left and right to avoid the bullets. Sand, salt, and rock flew in the air. Velvet's head began to spin, but her eyes stayed locked forwards, not even glancing at the side mirrors. 

A thud sounded from the back. The jeep convulsed. Velvet turned her head to the left, catching sight of the hostile jeep within jumping distance. 

Volt was no longer at the back. 

“Daring!” Velvet began to warn. “Daring, I think Volt just–”

Daring grunted. As Velvet steered away from the mercenary jeep. she adjusted the rear view mirror. To the right of the jeep, Daring's form was supine on the floor, while Volt was poised to give Daring a lasting impression with her hind hoof. 

“Oh, okay,” called out Velvet. “Never mind!” 

With her forelegs, Daring deflected Volt's stomp. She shot two punches at Volt's surge protector, eliciting a guttural, pained gasp. Daring's wings then dragged her body backwards, allowing her to send a hind leg to Volt's stomach. The earth pony stumbled back as Daring unsheathed her trowel and adopted a bipedal fighting stance. 

From the driver's seat, Velvet could see a blazing blue flame in Volt's eyes.





“You were supposed to be easy pickings!” Volt drew her stun baton with her hoof. A flick sent bright yellow sparks dripping from the shaft.

Daring smirked. “Oh, the sting of underestimation. Now you know how your lackeys feel! But hey, less talk, more beating the shit out of each other!”

Daring slashed left. Volt stepped back and swung her baton downwards, nicking Daring's hoof. The trowel slipped from Daring's grip and clanged on the floor. Daring hissed, but Velvet could see the pegasus fight through the arcs as they danced across her hoof. Volt recoiled and aimed her baton at Daring's head.

Daring ducked, the baton missing her helmet by a hair's breadth. Volt had opened herself to a counter. Daring delivered with a right uppercut to Volt's chin. Before Volt had time to cough in pain, she received an elbow strike across her cheekbone, followed by Daring grappling her head and raising her knee.

Meanwhile, Velvet was on the edge of her seat—literally and figuratively. From the rear view mirror, she noticed that despite the punishment Volt was receiving, her hoof clung to the baton. Velvet opened her mouth to warn Daring.

The jeep's front left mudguard dented. “Damn it!” Velvet's eyes traced the multiple orange sparks bounding off the jeep's side to their source. The second jeep was closing in again. Its driver squinted. His horn glowed.

“No!” Velvet kicked up a gear and hit the gas. “I'm not letting you destroy this baby!”

The acceleration sent Volt's baton arm wrapping around Daring's waist. It was only a matter of connecting the baton's shaft with Daring's back. The pegasus let out a long, agonized scream, bright yellow sparks snaking around her body. Her grip on Volt’s body loosened. 

After releasing her baton from Daring's back, the mercenary pushed Daring away with her free hoof. 

A kick sealed the deal.

And Daring stumbled, falling off.

Volt put her baton in one of her shoulder holsters. “Finally.” She pulled out her pistol with her left hoof, then yanked the back of Velvet’s mane with her right. Velvet’s shout was drowned out by Volt’s next words. “Stop this car now or I’m going to–“

Daring's whip cracked.

“Son of a—” A pained hiss came out of the mercenary's mouth as the pistol dropped from her hoof.

Another crack, and a drop of blood splashed on the dashboard to Velvet's right. 

A couple magic shots from the mercenary driver whizzed past Daring, forcing her to fly to the jeep's right to avoid getting hit as she put her whip back in its sheath. Daring then swooped from right to left, and Volt dove to the floor, dodging Daring's attempt to shove her off.

The sole audience member in the royal rumble was knocked back to reality by a jostle from the back. Velvet fought the steering wheel, then glanced behind. Her rear left bumper had acquired a new dent, while the front bumper of the mercenary's jeep was crumpled. His engine roared. He was going for Round Two: PIT Maneuver.

She took her hoof off the gas and stepped on the brake, allowing the mercenary jeep to drive ahead of her. The driver focused his eyes on Velvet's hood, and his horn glowed rustily.

But Velvet's horn glowed faster.

“Oh no you don't!” she barked. “You're not the only hornhead here!” She sent a quick heating spell to the hostile jeep's windshield.

No need to take time. In fact, speed was key.

The windshield cracked in front of the mercs' faces, and they flinched as their car began to skid. Gritting her teeth, Velvet turned her eyes to the hostile jeep's engine and grunted as her magic felt for anything to tear apart.

For…good…measure!

Grinding metal sounded from the hood. The air around it warped, then smoked. Velvet's scream was an infusion of anger and physical exertion, her magic melting the battery and the surrounding components.

The mercs' vehicle veered right. The front axle dislodged and scraped the ground, spraying sparks; the jeep began to spin clockwise. 

Oh shit! Bad Velvet! Bad Velvet!

Her hooves jerked the steering wheel away from the oncoming collision. The other jeep struck a boulder and flipped over and up—right past Daring. She yelped and put her hooves to her helmet, swooping closer to Velvet's jeep and just missing the wrecked suspension as it sailed over her head.

That was all the opening Volt needed.

She leaped and bit down on Daring's tail. Her head jerked, pulling Daring back into the jeep. The equipment at the back shifted violently and punctuated the pegasus's pained shout. Before she could stand, Volt stomped on her right wing.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

There was a second of reprieve before Volt crouched at Daring's writhing form. Velvet would have tried to help, but she could feel the left back wheel limping from the PIT maneuver earlier. She kept her eyes on the road and her hooves on the steering wheel; the last thing she needed was her car spinning out of control. 

In one smooth motion, the stun baton went from sitting in its sheath to smacking Daring across her chest. 

“Do you realize how many of my colts you've killed?!” Through the angry growling, a crack in Volt's voice betrayed a tinge of sadness. “Do you even care?! You think I don't know how my ‘lackeys’ feel?!” 

Daring received another beating.

“This is for Ironsides!”

Smack!

“This is for Birdshot!”

Smack!

“And this is for Miles!”

From the rear view mirror, Daring's convulsing form made Velvet wince, and she folded her ears at the pegasus's anguished cries. C'mon, Supermare! Get up!

Velvet watched Volt turn around and rummage through the stuff on the floor for a few seconds, then turn back to Daring. Her horn sputtered, but she immediately cancelled the spell when her eyes gravitated from Volt's baton to a pile of rocks just up ahead. Velvet downshifted the gears, bit her lip, and squeezed the steering wheel. If she didn’t focus on driving, the terrain could turn the jeep over and send all three ponies to Tartarus.

“But you're right about one thing. I underestimated you,” growled Volt. She flicked a switch on her baton's handle. The bright yellow sparks on the shaft transformed into a thunderstorm of brilliant white surges. They gave several hellish crackles that growled and shrieked for blood. “Not a mistake I will make twice!”

The mercenary took the collar of Daring's shirt, pinned her to the edge of the jeep, and held the baton's tip inches from her eye. Daring  groaned. Her eyes narrowed, and her brows were contorted. Through all that, however, a weak smile forced its way to the surface.

“Rut me.” 

Volt raised an eyebrow. 

That was all the opening Velvet needed. She slammed the brakes. Sand went airborne. 

Velvet's chest flew forward, the steering wheel shoving all the air out her lungs. Inertia sent Volt's body tumbling over the front seats, her baton shooting out past her into the ground. Velvet's eyes were wide for a second, then they slammed shut to avoid the flying debris. 

Volt grunted. Her body folded the windshield forwards, smashed the glass, and slid down the hood. She only came to a rest when her front hooves clung to the front grille, and her back legs dangled from the edge to scrape the ground. As Velvet floored the accelerator and Daring regained her bearings, Volt placed one hoof on the hood and tried to climb back up. The mercenary's eyes—still sporting a red gash from Daring's whip—blazed. She growled at Velvet like a demon crawling out of hell.

“Down, girl!” Velvet lit her horn.

Daring's shadow covered Velvet for a split second as her telekinesis slammed Volt's face onto the hood. The pegasus took to the sky and shot her hind leg at Volt's front hoof. 

The hood dented.

The jeep convulsed.

And Volt cried out as she went under the wheels.

From the left side mirror, Velvet could see Volt's body roll across the ground, kicking up sand until she was just a dot in the distance. 

“And… and stay out!” Velvet called out to Volt. Her chest rose and fell audibly, and her hooves trembled at the steering wheel. Daring settled at the back of the jeep and allowed her tensed muscles to dangle and relax.

Oh Celestia. Oh Celestia. Oh Celestia! Shit, I'm still alive! Has the air always tasted this good?

Velvet slowly allowed the car to slow to a more leisurely speed. Don't want to stress the engine like with Evy. The left side mirror showed Daring placing their belongings back into Evy's amputated cargo compartment, the only memento of her recently deceased mistress.

Evy... 

There was no wild cheer from Velvet's mouth this time. 

“Celestia, preserve me. I signed up for this.” She slumped in her seat. 

“I told you so.” Daring snorted. “And it only gets better from here.”

“Better as in we'll get shot less?” Velvet risked a glance back.

“Maybe. If we're lucky, they might unleash the kraken on us.”

“Wha— in the middle of the desert?”

Daring shrugged. “This desert did use to be a lake. Who knows what's buried out there?”

“If this doesn't end up killing me, it's going to make the strangest Scientific Equestrian article ever,” Velvet sighed.

A few minutes later, Daring uttered a grumble from the back—almost inaudible above the jeep's engine.

“Something the matter?” asked Velvet.

“It's not here.” 

“Huh?” Velvet blinked and turned to face Daring. The floor was clear of debris, all of it placed in the cargo compartment.

“The piece of Indra's Bow that we got from the cave—it isn't here.”

Velvet opened her mouth to speak, but the crackling of white noise from the car's radio, with the slightest tinge of speech, interrupted her. A few turns of the dial allowed the static to make way for more legible speech.

“Volt! Volt!” A young stallion's voice called from the radio. “Dear Celestia, are you all right?”

As Daring slid to the passenger's seat from the back, a mare coughed two times from the radio, then spoke. “Wave Rider? Weren't you with Third Squad?”

“All dead. I'm the only one left. Jeep's busted, too; had to fly my way over here.” The sound of a bag opening and a bottle being handled crackled through the speakers. “Water?”

“No, no, you can have it. You deserve it, after what you've been through. Just give me some fentanyl.”

Velvet and Daring leaned closer to the radio as Volt and Rider's voices began to fade into the overlying static.

“I've called the others,” said Rider. “We can keep up the pursuit.”

“No need. I got what I came for. I always do.”

A burst of white noise followed, then silence, leaving Daring and Velvet to stare at each other.
> Chapter 10: Recuperation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Any luck?”

Behind Twilight Velvet, the sun had begun to touch the mesa on the west, draping half of the salt flat under a faint shadow. She had stopped the jeep under a boulder and was now resting her head on one hoof. Her eyes were directed skywards.

“I…don’t…see 'em,” Daring said between several gasps. “Just the…two cars we…wrecked. Maybe…maybe…”

Daring's right wing locked. She fell from the sky.

“Whoa!” Velvet sat up. Her magic engulfed Daring's body, but it wasn't enough to break her fall. Salt and sand flew into the air and settled back onto Daring's groaning form, prompting Velvet to hop out of the jeep and gallop to her side.

“Daring!” Velvet's eyes quickly scanned Daring's writhing form. A reddish, branched pattern snaked through the pegasus's barrel, hooves, and wings, and there was a deep purple bruise encroaching through the right wing. “Shit! Tell me what to do!”

Daring coughed a few times, then attempted to stand, her hooves trembling under her weight. “I…I'm fine. I don't need help.”

“‘Don't need help,' my ass.” Velvet slung Daring's foreleg over her shoulder. “C'mon, let's get back to the jeep.”

As Velvet helped Daring to the jeep, the latter's wings dragged across the ground. When the two mares reached the vehicle, Daring couldn't lift herself up and climb onto the trunk. Velvet exhaled, ears folded back. She cast a light telekinesis spell on Daring's hooves, allowing her to clamber upwards and flop onto the trunk.

Velvet got back on the driver's seat and twisted her body to face Daring. The pegasus had rolled onto her side, her wings sprawled out behind her as she seethed and moaned. Dried blood—not hers, thankfully—discolored the right half of her olive green shirt. Yet despite her pitiful state, Daring found the strength to whisper a couple of words.

“So close… We were so close…”

Velvet only gave a solemn sigh in response. And to think she was enjoying herself just a few minutes before. Now they not only had nothing to show for their efforts, but Evy was gone. Velvet hung her head: there would be no more familiar faces in this endeavor.

Her eyes gravitated to the plastic bag sitting in the cargo compartment. Taking the bag with her magic and opening the zipper, Velvet levitated one of the small branched fulgurites in front of her face. She remembered the arcs such stones produced back in the central chamber of the cavern and how they were attracted to the artifact. What if…

“Vel…” Daring's pitiful voice directed Velvet's attention to her. “That giving you any ideas?”

Velvet glanced at Daring's rosy eyes, then at the dimming horizon. It wasn't that she wanted to call off the entire adventure, but things weren't looking too hot. Her only ally couldn't stand, and they had lost visual and radio contact of Volt. All hope for retrieving their piece of Indra's Bow lay on the fulgurites. Velvet's magic grasped the ends of the fulgurite and bent it, preparing to snap it in half. Granules fell from the stone and into the floor.

“On second thought,” Daring's voice grabbed Velvet's attention, “don't do that. Remember what happened when you threw one of those stones?”

“An arc tracked itself to Indra's Bow and allowed us to locate it?”

“No, after that, when you dealt with the two fireteams at the cave entrance.”

Velvet put a hoof to her chin. She didn't put too much thought to it at the time, but in retrospect, Daring had a point. When that stone fragmented, it didn't seek out the artifact; instead, it attacked the ponies that it had been thrown into. It seemed that the fulgurites only arced to Indra's Bow when there weren't any other nearby conductive objects.

Velvet hung her head. Evy's sacrifice was in vain.

“We'll get it next time,” Daring said. “Let's head for the smoke.”

Velvet furrowed her eyebrows as she started the engine. “There's a next time?”

From the rear view mirror, Daring sat up and stared into the horizon. “Something tells me that this won't be the last time we'll be seeing Volt and her crew.”





Several minutes later, the jeep had taken Velvet and Daring over a shallow hill. Half a mile away, a circle of conical huts surrounding a campfire caused Velvet's eyes to shimmer. She downshifted the jeep's gears, then turned to Daring. “All things considered, at least we didn't end up driving into a mercenary base.”

Daring Do sat up and peeped over Velvet's head, both ponies observing various heavy-set, two-horned figure surrounding the fire. The light blue beads hanging from one figure's neck, plus the feather headdress on top of another's head, all but confirmed his identity to Daring.

“Bison camp.” Her voice rumbled with the jeep's engine. “And judging by the necklace, his tribe's been inside our cave before.”

After driving past a creosote bush, the ear of one buffalo twitched. He turned around, took one look at Velvet's jeep, then gestured to his fellow buffalo.

All of them galloped back into their teepees.

“Well then…” Velvet applied the brakes. “You think the blood on my horn scared them off?”

After parking the jeep near a patch of prickly pears directly behind one of the teepees, Velvet leaned on the steering wheel and twiddled her hooves. Her ears picked up faint murmurings and rummaging sounds from inside one of the teepees, but other than that and the still-burning fire, the encampment had the air of a ghost town. Velvet did her best to suppress the shivers rising from her legs. Several minutes passed. It didn't take long for the sun to set and for night to fall, but still, none of the buffalo exited their tents. “Guys?” Velvet's call echoed through the desert. “You can come out! We're not evil or anything!”

Her only reply was the ambient chirping of crickets, the purring of the jeep's idling engine, and the rustling of thick bushes. Velvet snorted.

Click-clack.

Velvet spun her head to the right.

“Turn off the car,” a powerful baritone voice resonated in Velvet's hearing and traveled down to her core. Almost in reflex, she turned the ignition counter-clockwise, then raised her forelegs. The engine died down and sent one last vibration through the frame and into Velvet's body. If his voice alone hadn't been enough to make her comply, the wooden vintage shotgun in his hooves certainly did the trick.

Second time today? Really?

From the back, more buffalo emerged from the shadows, Velvet noting that their guns seemed older than she was. Two buffaloes grabbed Daring by her shirt collar and threw her to the ground. Sand clung to Daring's fur as she groaned. She attempted to stand, but one look at the weapons pointed at her forced her back down to the ground.

"Wha- what the hell, guys?!" Velvet protested. Her eyebrows furrowed at the buffalo to her right. "Why'd you–"

“State your business.” The buffalo forced the muzzle of his gun into Velvet's forehead and snorted, the headdress perched on his head shifting slightly.





Velvet opened her mouth to speak, a couple of coughs from Daring's end cut her off. “We mean no harm." Daring wiped some sand off her face as she locked her eyes on the buffalo closest to Velvet. "We are travelers who at this moment seek only recuperation. Please, allow us to rest here for the night, and in the morning, my companion and I shall leave and trouble you no longer.”

His eyes focusing on the sores, sweat, and grime on Daring's fur, the bison beside Velvet steadily lowered his firearm and glanced downward.

"How can we trust you?!" The buffalo jerked his shotgun upwards. "Do you think we are stupid? We recognize this make of vehicle: it belongs to the Blitzgruppe mercenary corps. This is a ruse, is it not?! We have made it clear the previous time that you are not welcome here any longer!"

"Great to hear—" Velvet nodded "—seeing as those guys just tried to kill us!" Her voice cracked, both from frustration and from dehydration. "They chased us throughout the desert! We had to steal one of their cars! I mean, look at this." Her left foreleg pointed at the various dents, bullet holes, and magic burns on the jeep's side. "Do you think those mercs are crazy enough to wreck one of their cars just for a ruse?"

The tension on the buffaloes' muscles loosened. One by one, they lowered their weapons. The shaking on Velvet's legs subsided, though it was still there. She had their attention.

"But hey..." Velvet eyed the buffalo with a feather headdress, making sure his eyes were on her hoof as she slowly lowered it to the ignition. "If you don't want us around, we'll be on our way."

The buffalo to Velvet's right took one last look at Daring's injured form and the damage to the jeep. He slung his shotgun to his chest and dropped to a quadrupedal stance, most of his subordinates following his lead. “…I will direct you two to the medical tent.”

The lead bison motioned at the two buffalo who had thrown Daring to the ground, and they picked Daring from the ground, slinging her arms over their backs. As the lead bison made his way towards a large teepee to the south, Velvet breathed out a long sigh. She jumped from the jeep on her four hooves and prepared to walk towards his direction when something caught her attention.

“Can I ask you something, mister…?”

“Tēnétkē Ellv'ksv,” completed the bison chief. When Velvet just raised an eyebrow, he coughed. “Sorry, Thunderhooves.”

“Right. Can you tell your guys to stand down?” Velvet pointed to the two bison pointing their guns at the clear and present danger that was an injured Daring Do. “They're giving my buddy the creeps.”

Daring raised an eyebrow at Velvet. “‘The creeps?’ Really?”

“You will have to forgive the extra security.” Thunderhooves' voice rumbled into Velvet's eardrums. “Ever since River Rapids left us, my people have become somewhat…untrusting of outsiders.”

As the bison chief walked away, Velvet tapped Daring's shoulder. “Do Dare?”

“Yes?”

“I did good, right?"

Daring snorted. "Don't flatter yourself...but yeah...you did good."





After washing herself up in the medical tent, Velvet exited the tent through the back, finding herself outside. She hadn't been injured too much, aside from the bullet that had nicked the moon near her stars. All the buffalo nurses had to do was apply a couple of healing ointments and bandages.

Daring was another story, however.

Her hisses of pain, plus the voices of buffalo attempting to reassure her, leaked through the canvas and into Velvet's twitching ears. Velvet could keep Daring company, but she did say she wanted some time to herself.

The first thing to greet Velvet outside was the navy blue evening sky. The second was a cool breeze that caused her fur to stand. Velvet shivered as she made her way to the back of the jeep and levitated her personal journal, her work notebook, a pen, and the bag of fulgurites out of the cargo compartment. She set them down on a broad stone next to the medical tent and clicked the pen.

“First things first…” Clouds of magic engulfed the books and flipped them open. “Better jot my memories down before they rot from my mind.”

What was supposed to be a simple set of scribbles ended up taking up a good portion of both her notebook and her journal, especially the latter. So much had happened that past few hours—it was less a shot of adrenaline and more like an entire keg. It just couldn't be summarized in a couple of pages.

As she detailed the most recent chase through the desert, she could almost feel the hum of her motorcycle beneath her. She dropped her pen and hung her head.

“Dammit, Evy.” She stomped her hoof into the sand that had dampened for reasons she chose to ignore. “Together forever—that was our promise.”

How was losing her mistress worth some stupid science article? Honestly, that had just been an excuse to go on this reckless journey. 

A shove from behind shook Velvet from her reverie.

“¿Como estas?” One of Daring's unkempt bangs peeked from the upper-right corner of Velvet's field of view. “You seem busy,” clarified Daring. “Wondering how the cat got into the salad?”

Velvet blinked a few times, then faced away from Daring and sighed, her ears folding backwards.

“Hmm, not the time, I see. Normally I'd hear a corny one-liner from you at this point. Here…”

There was a scrape, and a pair of bowls greeted her. Dark cerise liquid sloshed around inside, making Velvet squirm. “What… is that?”

“Prickly pear juice.” Daring sat beside Velvet and took one of the bowls with her front hooves. “Not exactly Restaurant Row material, I know, but hopefully it'll lift your spirits.”

There was a long moment as both ponies stared down into their bowls. Then, Daring closed her eyes. “Sorry about Evy.”

Velvet sniffed. “Thanks.”

The fruit juice was then consumed in silence.

It actually wasn't bad: its sweet, yet subtle flavor, almost like blackberries, and cooling sensation did a decent job of washing away some of her aching thoughts. But there was a little extra zing missing…

“Don't you have anything stronger?” Velvet said after finishing her first bowl.

“No, and even then, I try to avoid alcohol if I can.”

A sliver of a smile glinted from Velvet's face. “You don't know what you're missing.”

“You sound like her.” Daring smacked her lips, now stained scarlet from the juice.

“Who?”

“Don't ask. She's an old problem. Let's just say there's a reason the one-night stand never turned into something more.”

It didn't take long for Velvet's sips to turn into slurps. She hadn't realized just how thirsty she was until the juice soothed her throat and her mind, though in retrospect, it shouldn't have been too much of a surprise. She'd spent a good portion of the day screaming and sweating in a desert after all.

Velvet's bowl had been emptied long before Daring's, giving her some time to survey Daring's body, now lacking any sort of clothing. She could almost feel Daring's hard, firm muscles just by looking at the adventurer's stocky frame. Hard to believe ponies like her exist outside of cheesy action movies and trashy magazine covers.

“Showing off your beach bod, are we?” teased Velvet.

“The buffalo insisted on cleaning my clothes. As for the beach bod, adventuring tends to burn a lot of calories.” Daring poked Velvet's gut with a hoof. “Not that curves can't be appealing.”

“Like I said, ‘No shame here.’” Velvet stuck her tongue out at Daring, then turned her attention to the pegasus's bandaged right wing. “Sorry about your wing, though. Really should've done more to help you out back in the salt flat.”

“It's nothing.” Daring winced and waved her hoof. “At least this time, it's bruised, not broken. Normally this would ground me for—what, five days? But the buffalo worked their potions into it. Should be good to go by the morning. I swear: they're taking hints from the zebras.”

“Itching to leave so soon?” Velvet shot her hoof at a small group of buffalo conversing at the other side of the camp. “C'mon! Make friends!”

“The sooner we get ourselves rested, the sooner we can hunt down Volt.”

Velvet froze, then nodded her head. “Point…”

Several seconds of silence later, Velvet turned her head to Daring. “Why isn’t Haribon with you? He is your client after all.”

Daring shrugged. “I dunno. Political horseshit, I guess. Also, I did tell him I work better alone.”

“So what makes me different?”

“Well…” Daring tapped her hooves. “Let's just say there was more to it than just me being a lone wolf. Think about it for a second: how have you been helping me so far?”

Velvet glanced upwards as she counted the ways. “Mostly blowing up crap, honestly. We blew up Birdshot; we blew up that slab in the cave; we blew up several motorcycles… What are you trying to get at here? Don't get me wrong: blowing up crap is cool and all, but–”

“Not…exactly what I had in mind,” interrupted Daring, “but close enough. Props to you, though... At least your assistance has been corporeal in nature.”

“‘Corporeal?’ As opposed to…?”

“Money. Information. The kind of stuff you can put in a notebook or an envelope. Now real hoofwork? That's another thing. That's something I can get behind.”

“So you're saying that you want someone to be your slave.” Velvet smirked. “No wonder you carry that whip around.”

“‘Slave’ is such a loaded term,” scoffed Daring. “What about that student-teacher comparison you brought up? ‘What you say goes,’ remember?”

“Semantics.”

Daring shook her head. “That's another thing that makes you ‘special.’” She leaned in closer to Velvet's face, looking Velvet squarely in the eye. “Between you and me, Haribon doesn't seem like the kind of stallion who understands why I work alone. ‘I paid you; I call the shots,’ he says. ‘Don't want you running off with the Spectrum.’” Daring huffed while facing away from Velvet. “Really, dude? Need I remind you who the archeologist is around here? Need I remind you that you paid me a couple thousand bits? And you're still worried that I'm going to double-cross you?”

Daring pounded her hooves on the broad stone, while Velvet inched away.

“As for you…”

Velvet froze.

“…you're all right…relatively speaking.”

Daring gave Velvet a soft smile.

“You may be a bit on the touchy-feely side, but at least you respect my boundaries when it comes to my decisions. You may not be built for the kind of work I do, but at least you're willing to learn.”

Velvet chuckled, then bumped Daring's shoulder. “Aw shut it, you.”

“Hey hey. Don't let it go to your head.”

“Yes…” Velvet retracted her foreleg from Daring's space, then gave Daring a sly grin. ”…master.”

Daring returned the grin. “‘Master,’ huh. Is that what turns Night Light on?”

“We take turns…”

Velvet's attention directed itself to the night sky. The waxing crescent, just above a mesa, reminded her of a certain pony back home. She made a mental note to find a way to contact Night Light—a mirror, a messenger dragon, a tin can with an extra long string, any way she could find.

“You've been through a lot.” Daring joined Velvet in stargazing. “And you're taking all this crazy shit surprisingly well. Most folks I know would crack under the first leg of that desert chase.”

A sigh came out of Daring's pursed lips.

“But you don't have to do this.”

Velvet's ears folded backward.

“You don't have to keep throwing bits and pieces of your life away for a thrill. Celestia knows how close Evy was to you.”

“Daring, I–”

“Besides you've got somepony waiting for you back in Canterlot. Surely you want to die a good death with him a century from now,” echoed Daring, “and not blow it on a gunshot wound alone in the middle of a third-world shithole?”

Velvet put her hoof down and hung her head.

“If memory serves me right—” Daring put a hoof to her chin “—Derringer set up his shooting range somewhere northeast, near Dodge Junction. I'm sure he'll let you crash at his place for a few days. Don't you worry, Twilight; he's a good stallion. And once I find the Spectrum, I'll get back to you and tell you all about it for your article.”

Grimacing, Velvet stared at the horizon. If Daring had asked her this hours before, she would have shook her head. Now, though? It scared Velvet just how much of a point Daring was making…how much she'd been echoing her previous contemplation—like she'd been reading her mind. It wasn't too late to make things right and turn back…

Velvet waved her hoof.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” She let off a couple of nervous chuckles. “I wouldn't be a very good journalist if I lost my nerve and backed out at the first sign of trouble! And like you said, this is for a good cause. It's not fair that I get to have enough food to grow this”—she put a hoof at her paunch—“while other ponies in some distant land can't even get a single slice of bread. I'll be there to break the story when you solve a nation-wide hunger crisis, and maybe, just maybe help out now and again.”

As she swallowed a lump in her throat, her mind did its best to stuff her fears back into the recesses of her subconscious.

“It doesn't have to be you, Velvet…” Daring began to protest. “What about your fiancé? What about Evy?”

“C'mon, have a little more faith in yourself!” Velvet slapped Daring's back. The gesture was a little over-the-top, even for Velvet; hopefully Daring didn't see the crack in the facade. “You managed to get the both of us out of that chase in one piece. When I get back to Night Light's side, I'll have you to thank…anonymously, of course.”

Velvet dialed down her smile a bit. “As for Evy, well…it wouldn't exactly be honoring to her memory if I left now and made it so her sacrifice was in vain. Plus, you've got to crack a few eggs to make a soufflé.”

“Don't you mean an omelet?” Daring scratched her mane with her right foreleg.

“I may be a rough-and-tumble wrench wench,” Velvet said while curling the back of her mane with her magic, “but I'm still a Canterlotian at heart.” She put her nose up in the air and affected the nobles' distinctive Ponish. “You think I'm going to settle for a simple omelet like a plebeian?!”

The bellow of a horn resonated throughout the camp, causing Velvet and Daring to jerk their heads to the east. The campfire illuminated Thunderhooves' bulky physique as he lowered the horn. He was soon joined by four, maybe five buffalo carrying bowls and plates on trays slung on their chests.

“Looks like dinner.” Daring stood up, then faced Velvet. “Which, considering our circumstances, means plebeian food.”





Dinner was flatbread with assorted vegetables, all lathered with a red-orange sauce. Velvet grumbled, pushing it back and forth with a levitated fork. At least it's not monkey brains or something like that. Then her ears perked up, picking back up in the middle of Thunderhooves' beautiful, bass questioning.

“...So just to clarify: you have to assemble Indra's Bow first to help you locate the Spectrum?” Thunderhooves rumbled.

“Yup,” Daring said after swallowing an entire fucking sweet potato. “Two magical MacGuffins in a single adventure. That's like…two books' worth of material.”

“Curious…” The chief glanced aside while tapping his chin. “I wish we could help you, but our traditions do not speak of such trinkets.”

At the left corner of Velvet's vision, Daring put down her bowl. “Do they mention anything about a cave with lightning that turns creatures into stone?”

All the buffalo froze; they might as well have been made of stone themselves

“Guys?” Velvet creased her eyebrows.

Thunderhooves broke the silence with a stern tone. “That…uh…that is information outsiders are forbidden to learn. Only one has entered the Lightning Mare's cave and exited alive, and he has forbidden us to speak of it.”

“But we were just there!” Velvet gesticulated with her hoof. “Why do you think mercenaries were chasing us? Daring and I aren't the only ones looking for Indra's Bow, you know.”

“We have lost too many of our number to curiosity. They ignored our warnings and succumbed to the Lightning Mare's power.” Thunderhooves motioned for Velvet to calm down. “It is best if we respect her wishes to be left alone.”

“Dammit,” Daring muttered to herself and folded her ears, “this was what I was afraid of. They're playing hard-to-get just like with Uncle Ad.”

Velvet glanced at the ground near her hooves, the bag of fulgurites mostly shrouded in shadow. The bag blended well into the dirt and hadn't been noticed when they'd been found.

With her magic, Velvet levitated the bag in front of everyone and opened it. The buffalo wore various expressions on their faces: some seemed genuinely curious, while others looked more confused than anything else. Velvet resisted the urge to smirk as she plucked a fulgurite from the bag and tossed it near the prickly pear patch.

A flash, then a clap, shook every creature except Velvet from their seats.

After everyone had finished shielding their eyes and folding back their ears, their mouths had drifted open to collect the settling dust. The prickly pears, still bearing the occasional multicolored arc of electricity, had hardened into grayish brown stone.

“Watch your step over there.” Velvet's smirk leaked from her subconscious and into her face as she pointed at the fossilized prickly pears. “Worse than stepping on a real cactus—speaking from personal experience.”

Thunderhooves turned his head to the ponies and stammered wordlessly for a couple of seconds. “You…you explored the Lightning Mare's cave and lived?”

“Honestly, it wasn't too difficult.” Velvet brushed off a part of her mane, then brought what was left of her tail into view. “Aside from a few…complications. We did manage to find the first piece of Indra's Bow in there, though, so hey: time well spent!”

“Interesting…” Thunderhooves' voice trailed off. “Where in the cave did you find this artifact?”

“Some kind of large antechamber at the end of the cave.” It was Daring's turn to speak. “And–”

“You reached the end of the cave?” Thunderhooves furrowed his eyebrows.

“Stop interrupting me and I'll tell you,” injected Daring, rustling her good wing. “We heard a voice that sounded like it was filtered through radio static and saw a bright, glowing pony covered in electrical sparks.” Daring set her bowl on the ground and shrugged. “Guess we were lucky we didn't end up joining the creatures in there that came before us.”

Thunderhooves' mouth fell agape. “‘Lucky?’ Your ancestors either blessed you with unparalleled bravery or cursed you with unmatched stupidity. Perhaps both.”

Velvet reflexively shook her head. Welcome to my world.

“You mean to tell me,” continued Thunderhooves, “that you not only visited the Lightning Mare's cave and lived, but that you also gazed upon her face?”

“Mmmm.” Velvet gestured with her two front hooves. “More like a glance. Peeped at us from a hole outside the cave, then got the hay out of dodge.” A small chuckle escaped her mouth. “Must have left the iron on.”

“Hmm, ‘a glance,’ you say? That explains—at least in part—why you two are still alive.” Thunderhooves stroked his chin, then looked up to see both Daring and Velvet cocking their heads. “Oh yes, you two stupid lucky ponies: let me tell the story.”

The buffalo chief cleared his throat, catching the attention of all the members of his clan. “Many, many, many moons ago, six of our own entered the cave we now know as the Lightning Mare's lair. Only one of them, Gentle Mist, came out alive, and even then, he was not unscathed.”

Velvet's tail reflexively twitched at the last word. Hopefully, Mist didn't have it worse.

“All we know about the Lightning Mare's earthly dealings comes from him,” Thunderhooves continued. “Mist had commanded his fellow buffalo and his descendants to never speak of the Lightning Mare or her lair to anyone else. The less others know of the Lightning Mare, the less chance they have of being exposed to her power.”

“Sounds like this Lightning Mare of yours has anger management issues,” quipped Velvet.

“Only a half-truth, little pony,” said Thunderhooves. “Mist said that the Lightning Mare locked herself away; she is a gentle, but cursed soul. Death comes to those unfortunate to fall beneath her gaze for more than a moment…”

Geez, he didn't have to be so dramatic about it.

Daring cleared her throat. “So if this supposed to be one of your tribe's secrets, why are you telling us all this?”

Thunderhooves looked at Daring squarely in the eyes. “You've earned the right. And, to our shame, Mist's knowledge is lacking in many areas. He, for instance, never reached the end of the cave. He did not know of any ‘Indra's Bow’ located inside. Speaking of which, you mentioned that the artifact came from the Orient?”

“That's what the craftsmareship would suggest, yes, and it's consistent with the information I have on the Spectrum so far.”

“And that is suspect, don't you think?” Thunderhooves punctuated his point with his hoof. “We've never had contact with anypony from the Orient until the Second Global Conflict decades ago. Perhaps our preconceptions of the Lightning Mare require some…rethinking.”





Alone again, but for good reason.

A cloud of electrical sparks and pulsating magic hovered on the air in front of Twilight Velvet's face, fed by a stream of purple from her horn. Remnants of her more natural cerise magic occasionally flickered from within the cloud, but as she ran the numbers through her mind, one by one, the flickers dissipated.

Right, I've probably pumped in enough magic to get the right amperage. Now for the cherry on top.

After dinner, Velvet had returned to the broad stone, cleared the space around its surface, and set the bag of fulgurites on top. Back in the salt flat, there hadn't been enough time to figure out for sure, but now, without the distraction of ponies shooting at her from speeding cars, maybe there was a way to get the fulgurites to trace Indra's Bow at this distance.

Her horn strobed cerise as she applied a small telekinesis spell at the bottom of the electrical cloud—not exactly a cherry on top, but it was the thought that counted. She terminated the electrical magic flowing from her horn, eyes widening for half a second before she realized that no, the cloud was holding together and staying in place.

“Well… That worked.” Velvet's voice quivered slightly. “I was half-expecting something to blow up. At least if it does, no one's here to get caught in the crossfire.”

Nonetheless, she was still dealing with a sparking, pulsating ball of aetheric electricity; this wasn't exactly Magic Kindergarten material…

Velvet snatched two wires, cut beforehoof at both ends, and stuck them at the bottom of the cloud, allowing the telekinesis spell to take hold of the wires. Leaning in closer, she took the other ends of the wires and brought them together near one fulgurite on the table. Hopefully, the insulator spells were enough. They couldn't be too strong, or the stones wouldn't be able to conduct any kind of electricity.

The stone sparked, glowing slightly when the wires brushed against its surface. “Oh, thank Celestia.” Velvet breathed out a sigh of relief. “So far so good.”

Next step: connect the antenna she'd cannibalized from the jeep to the fulgurite with two alligator clips. As soon as the second one made its mark, a light from above directed Velvet's attention upwards. Her eyes shimmered at the sight: two bluish-white arcs sprouting from the antenna and reaching out into the sky.

An impressive sight, and the buzzing noises from the antenna were music to her ears. More importantly, she'd found a way to get the fulgurite to sustain an arc instead of expending all its energy into a single lightning flash.

But her primary objective still hadn't been met.

“Crap, the arc still isn't connecting with Indra's Bow.”

Snap.

Whatever awe was in Velvet's mind immediately banished itself from her amygdala. She jerked her head downwards. The fulgurite strobed, sparked, and jumped. Velvet's heart skipped.

“Oh shit!”

Her horn sparked. She slammed her eyes shut and dove to the ground

An ear-piercing crack echoed through the desert.

Velvet remained on the ground for several seconds, huddled into a fetal position while trying to steady her shaky breathing. When she managed to compose herself, she sat up, the first thing coming into view was the smoke dancing in front of her face. A strong aroma, something like a cross between charcoal and ozone, caused her nose to wrinkle. She grimaced at the broad stone's newly acquired charred stain, then put her hoof to her forehead. To her left, the jeep's antenna, amputated and cannibalized from its owner beforehoof, tipped over onto the stain and kicked up small puffs of ash.

Seven fulgurites had become six. Only a split-second strengthening of the insulating magical barrier surrounding the doomed stone prevented a more explosive outcome.

Velvet flopped her head onto the makeshift table. “Damn it all!” Her front hoof rubbed the locks of her mane near her forehead as her face puckered into a frown. “Okay, think, think. What happened? Maybe I should have pumped in less charge? No, no, if I do that, the current of the cloud won't match the fulgurite's current.”

“You must construct a chamber to magnify the lightning's voice.”

A second voice rumbled through Velvet's chest, causing her to spin around. “Thunderhooves?” Velvet jerked backward.

“That is my name, yes. Your ancestors truly have blessed you with exceptional perception.”

The buffalo had been standing beside the jeep, the arch on his back higher than the vehicle's vertical clearance. He then walked to Velvet's side, scoping the results of her tinkering with focused eyes. “Your friend told me you would be here. I see you have been keeping yourself busy,” he said as he took the bag of fulgurites with his hooves and pointed to a trio of buffalo staring at Velvet from the other side of the camp. “Although it is not just me who can see it.”

“Yeah well, as long as your friends aren't bloodthirsty gunponies, I'm happy.” Velvet's magic snatched the bag and set it on the broad stone. “And what do you mean ‘magnify the lightning's voice?’ What, like a megaphone?”

“If you confine the lightning inside a box lined with earth and magic elements—” Thunderhooves gestured with his forelegs, “—the lightning becomes enraged and begins kicking the interior of the box, seeking a way out. As its anger builds, so does the strength and speed of its kicking.”

The gears in Velvet's brain turned.

“You're talking about an RF cavity. But wait, isn't amplifying the electric frequency the purpose of this thing?” Velvet pointed a hoof at the floating cloud of electricity. It sputtered and began to dim, causing Velvet to jump before she attempted to reignite and stabilize the cloud with her magic.

“If you ask me—” Thunderhooves put a hoof to his chin as he considered the cloud “—this seems like it would work better as a cistern for the thunder-stones, to use an analogy, than as an amplifier.”

After Velvet had stabilized the cloud, she glanced downward, blinked a few times, then turned her eyes to Thunderhooves. “Huh… That's…not a bad proposition actually. Where did you learn to do this?”

“I did not receive the name ‘Thunderhooves’ for frivolous reasons.” His eyes drifted downwards, and his ears folded backwards. “Though since I was promoted to chief several weeks ago, I have not had an opportunity to…craft the way you do.”

Velvet scooted to the left and tapped the ground beside her. “Here. Want to relive the old days?”

But Thunderhooves didn't sit down. Instead, he turned his eyes to the campfire, then back to Velvet. “Actually, come with me. There is still something we must accomplish first before constructing the chamber.”





Velvet's irises shimmered as Thunderhooves placed a bowl containing a mixture of metals, sand, quartz, and arcanite over a grille on the tribe's campfire. She was no stranger to creating dielectric aetheric quartzite through heating, but to see the process performed without any unicorn magic or hell, machines, was another matter.

“And now we wait. Once the mixture transmutes into a gel, we can begin molding the chamber.” Thunderhooves sat by the campfire and gestured a hoof at Velvet, inviting her to sit. Upon taking up his offer, Velvet basked in the campfire's heat for a couple of minutes before turning to the chief.

“Where's Daring? Last time I saw her, she was being escorted by a couple of your cows. She partaking in a different kind of experiment?”

“Oh, the nurses insisted that she get some sleep as soon as possible.” A small chuckle traveled from his mouth and resonated through Velvet's facial bones. “She was not initially receptive to the idea at first, but you should have seen her after five minutes. It was as if she had imbibed several ‘cold ones’ in our dinner.”

“Funny you should say that.” Velvet rolled her eyes and smirked. “She's dry as far as that goes.”

“Huh, so similar to River Rapids, then.”

“Oh right, you mentioned that guy.” Velvet paused for a moment. “Let me guess: ex-lover?”

“More of an ex-friend.” Thunderhooves snorted, then glanced at Velvet with a raised eyebrow. “You really want to know?”

She looked away from Thunderhooves without saying a word, the only sound being the crackling and spitting of embers from the campfire.

“If you don't mind me asking…”

“She ran off to join Blitzgruppe months ago.”

Velvet's eyes widened. She quickly scanned her memories for any buffalo, only to give off a mental sigh of relief when none came to mind.

“She is a spirited lady,” continued Thunderhooves. “Wanted to see the world beyond our village—beyond this desert…which she was free to do, might I add.” He paused for a moment to stare at the horizon, then breathed out a heavy sigh. “I just wish she had done so by associating herself with less disreputable ponies.”

Velvet hung her head. The resemblance hadn't been lost on her.

“You and your friend encountered Blitzgruppe in your excursion, correct?” Thunderhooves faced Velvet again.

“We didn't kill any buffalo, if that's what you're thinking!” Velvet protested.

“And I have no reason to believe you did.” Thunderhooves straightened his turquoise necklace, causing Velvet's eyes to gravitate towards it. “I just want you to promise me one thing. Think of it as payment for helping you with the thunder-stones.”

Here comes a bombshell…

“If you ever encounter Rapids, please…spare her life. Implore her to come home. We all miss her.”

Something popped from the bowl on the campfire before Thunderhooves could say another word. Velvet watched the buffalo get up and look into the bowl.

“It is finished. Now we need to take this gel back to the broad stone.” They moved together, and, after a moment, Thunderhooves grinned. “It is your turn to share, little pony. Tell me of the Velvet mare that looked death in the face and lived.”

Velvet couldn't help the smile forming on her face. “Prepare yourself for the thrilling adventures of Vexing Velvet! Complete with train crashes and a considerable amount of explosions!”

The fire crackled as they laughed, the stars coming out above them one, by one, by one…
> Chapter 11: On the Trail Once More
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A growl interrupted Spike’s train of thought. Setting Velvet’s journal aside, he put a claw on his tummy and patted it a couple of times. Time for a pit stop.

Getting to the kitchen required more than the usual modicum of stealth. The doors and floorboards weren’t allowed to utter the slightest creak; at least prior experience taught Spike which floorboards were “chattier” than the rest. No light switches could be flicked, not that his draconic eyes needed them. He didn’t want to think about what Twilight’s parents would do if they caught him. Maybe Velvet would flash one of her weird magitech things on his face and maybe set him on fire again—for science. Or even worse, maybe she’d tell QP613 in the Daring Do forums that he shipped Ahuizotl with—

“Pfft, okay that’s just silly. Keep it together, Spike.” He rubbed his shivering palms together. “Now’s not the time for...uhm…‘Twilighting.’”

Upon arriving at the kitchen, Spike released a held breath, then put a stepping stool next to the counter. His stomach didn’t demand anything too fancy—some peanut butter and an extra thick layer of raspberry jelly on top of a single slice of bread. 

Emerald sprinkles aren’t too fancy, right?

Easing the kitchen cupboard shut with nary a sound, Spike crept back down from his perch on the counter and clambered down onto the stepping stool. With the open sandwich on top of a saucer, he then made his way to the nook, keeping his toes extended upwards so the tips of his claws wouldn’t clack across the polished floor. 

It was hardly a candlelight dinner. The only illumination came from the moonlight shining through the windows. He shivered as a cold draft whispered through the room, temporarily tempting him to burn the foliage in a pair of nearby vases for warmth. Still, for once, he was glad to be alone. He didn’t need to be shaken down for secrets.

A soft high-pitched rumble echoed from the living room. Spike’s arm froze, the sandwich halfway to his open mouth. Some raspberry jam made for an exit and splattered onto the saucer below. Spike’s gaze swept back and forth across the dark room, his teeth starting to chitter. “W-who’s that? Twilight? Dad? M-mom?”

The high-pitched rumble returned, but it wasn’t coming from the living room anymore. 

It came from behind Spike.

Spike spun around in his seat. His heart skipped a massive beat. There was no one behind him—until he looked below his feet. 

Two vertically slit hazel eyes peered up at him. Their owner sat on the floor, her yellowish brown coat not quite blending with the floorboards, and swished her tail from side to side. “Mmrow?” 

“Oh my Celestia, Rose...it’s just you.” Spike shook his head and released his held breath. His eyes drifted away from the Sparkles’ Eastern Ticked Tabby and back at his sandwich. Plucking a little piece from the corner, he leaned closer to Rose and held out his claw. Maybe a small bribe would appease the spy?

Rose cocked her head at the bread on Spike’s claw and sniffed at it for a few moments before finally turning up her nose. 

“You…don’t want food?” Spike furrowed his eyebrows as the feline batted his claw away. “Then what—”

Rose reared up. She propped her front paws on the legs of Spike’s chair, purred, and rubbed her face against his leg. Now it was Spike’s turn to cock his head. He pushed the saucer away and turned his claws over on his lap. “You…want upsies?”

Rose’s reply came in the form of another leap. Spike wrapped one arm around Rose, while the other braced his body on the counter. Spike’s nose wrinkled from the dander now dancing in front of his face. Rose seemed content with the arrangement however, curling up on his lap and looking at him expectantly. 

“Alright, your highness.” Spike rolled his eyes. 

Spike was hardly Mister Blow Field from that one spy movie. All he was lacking was some kind of high-backed chair…and the thermostat cranked up. Shrouded in darkness while the cool night air made his tail shiver, Spike stroked the thin-haired cat on his lap. Rose’s purrs vibrated down his thighs and up his spine. This wasn’t so bad after all. Heck, it was kinda therapeutic…

Speaking of therapeutic, there was one thing he needed to get off his chest. Spike cleared his throat.

“I wonder if you or the other cat know about all the horseapples Velvet got roped in. That is, if I haven’t just been reading a self-insert fanfic this whole time.” Spike paused to scratch at his own spines. “The only proof I have is Velvet’s scars, and heck, she could’ve gotten those anywhere—doesn’t have to be a Daring Do adventure. What do you think?”

Rose exchanged a stare with Spike, then rolled onto her back and exposed her tummy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Bet you don’t even know about the attic, huh?”

Spike switched his claw to Rose’s belly. She “rewarded” him with a snag of her front paws and a playful bite. Not that such activities would even leave a scratch on his scales. “Oops, forgot you don’t like belly scratches.” He returned to the cat’s spine, eliciting more purrs from his captive—or maybe his captor—and soothing his troubled mind. Even if she could understand Spike, it seemed like she didn’t mind some venting from his end. She’d make a great secret keeper.

“But let’s assume Velvet really did do all these crazy things. Just…well…” Spike sighed. “I dunno. I thought I’d be more excited. I thought I’d respect Velvet more after learning about her past. Right now, though? I’m scared of her. Scared of her catching me. Scared that if this all came out, it might fracture her fragile relationship with Twilight. It’s not that I think any less of her because of all of this, but…”

Spike moved his hand from Rose’s back to the space between her ears. “I guess when you’re the assistant to the mare who blasted Chrysalis and Tirek with the Tactical Friendship Canon, it takes a lot to impress you.” Spike gave a self-deprecating chuckle. Granted, Velvet’s escapades were no small feat, and her writing tended to put the reader right in the moment. 

Spike paused, glancing out the window. 

“I wonder if this is how Velvet feels like sometimes—not being able to talk to anyone about her past except her pets. Spike’s claws paused in their ministrations. “Huh, in a way, it’s a lot like A.K. Yearling. She can’t tell others how she feels either.” 

Rose shifted back and forth as she licked across her shoulder with her scratchy tongue. Spike watched her work with a flat look, before finally giving a sigh.

“Anyways… I guess it’d be weird if Velvet told you and North, but not Twilight or Shining or, heck, even Night Light.” Spike snorted as he blew a little bit of extra dander away from his nostrils. “It’s like…your family ought to be the first to know about really important stuff like this, right? Not even Hum Drum keeps his superhero identity a secret from his parents.”

“Mrowr?” Rose peered up at him.

“Yeah, I take it you don’t know about him. I’ll start from the beginning, okay? By day, Hum Drum is a lowly school colt in the city of Maretropolis. But his alternate ego is the only member of the Power Ponies who—”

Feeling a sudden push-off, Spike sat up as he watched the short yellow-hair scamper away. She paused at the entrance to a darkened hallway before tilting her nose in the air and slinking off.

“Oh, I see how it is! Everyone’s a critic.” Spike took a big bite out of his open-faced sandwich before motioning with it at the vacated hallway. “You just don’t know what’s good! You haven’t lived life if you haven't been exposed to the Power Ponies!” 

That last exclamation echoed around the living room. Spike cupped his hands on his mouth and cringed. Hopefully, nopony heard that.

He slipped off of his chair and checked around to make sure nopony was disturbed. Finding them all still asleep, he washed his dish and made his way back to Twilight’s room. As soon as he touched the bathroom doorknob, though, he paused and looked back at Twilight’s sleeping form. It wasn’t too late to let her know…

Something deep in his subconscious told him he wasn’t ready—and neither was Twilight. Whether or not that something was correct, Spike’s mind couldn’t say. In either case, it wouldn’t be polite to interrupt her sleep for something she’d groggily wave off as nonsense or Princess Luna trolling again.

Spike shrugged before turning back to the bathroom, climbing back up and settling into the rug lining the sink. 

Dear Journal,

We haven’t had to kill anypony today. Thank Celestia. 

I can’t exactly say I’m high spirits right now. I finally get the chance to try to contact Night Light and I fuck it up. At least Daring sympathizes, but that doesn’t get me any closer to talking to him again. Now I don’t even know if he’s going to want to see my face after everything I’ve had to do just to get to this point. 

To think this day started off well...





“Daring! Daring, wake up!” 

Inside one of the buffalo teepees, Daring Do stirred and mumbled incoherent attempts at profanities. Each shake Velvet delivered to her body elicited a different species of utterance. Mounting over Daring’s body like a predator, Velvet resisted the urge to play with her wings, but it was a losing battle. Daring had to see what Velvet and Thunderhooves had in store for her, and now.

Velvet landed a critical blow on the side of Daring’s head.

Daring screamed. 

“Crap, sorry! Sorry!” Velvet fell on her bottom and scooted away as Daring thrashed around in her blanket. Daring then sat up, her eyes blazing in the spiciness of the buffalo teepee while the silhouette of her folded right wing spasmed in its bandage.

“All right, all right! I’m up, Mom!” Daring’s voice enunciated the last word in a mix of sarcasm, drowsiness, and pain that sounded even raspier than usual. “Do you even realize what time it is?!”

“11:30 pm?” Velvet couldn’t help the deadpan snark that crept into her voice.

Daring reached forward and tapped Velvet’s horn with her hoof. “You know what, if that thing comes with a built-in clock, I understand why Canterlot ponies are so damn entitled.”

“You’re impossible.” Velvet jabbed her hoof at the exit behind her. “Thunderhooves needs to talk to you...”

“So why are you here, and not one of his buffalo underlings?” Daring raised an eyebrow. “I don’t bite.”

“Unfortunately.” Velvet turned and coughed into her hoof. “Anyway, something about going into a strange mare’s tent, uninvited.” 

“All right, fine. I’m going out…” The tattered blanket slipped off Daring’s body as she stood. Her legs briefly trembled, the moonlight from outside illuminating her bruises and bandages. As she made her way to the exit, not even stopping to retrieve her clothes, one of Daring’s hooves clutched the reddish feathery burns on her chest, prompting Velvet to help her out of the tent. Despite the effects of her injuries encroaching onto Daring, though, she found the strength to narrow her eyes at Velvet. “…if only for him.”

When Daring followed Velvet’s lead and hobbled out of the tent, however, the grogginess and pain melted from her eyes. Dancing before her on the night sky, a long, thin arc extended from the jeep’s antenna, up into the air, and beyond the horizon. Like the thunderbolts in the cave, it pulsed in a multitude of colors, although in this case, there seemed to be a bias towards purple, sparkly hues. It wasn’t too hard to figure out why, what with the purple cloud connected to the antenna via several wires and chambers fashioned out of what seemed like metal and rock. Multicolored light leaked from tiny cracks on one of the chambers, no doubt belonging to the fulgurite.

“I’ll be damned…” mouthed Daring. “How did you do this?” 

The smirk that had materialized into Velvet’s face when Daring gaped at the lightning softened into a warm smile. “Had some help.” She gestured to a heavy-set figure near the broad stone. The buffalo inclined his head to Daring as she rubbed her eyes.

“More specifically,” continued Velvet, “Thunderhooves fashioned an RF cavity by mixing silica, quartz, arcanite, and various other minerals in a bowl. You should have seen him work, Daring. I had no idea nomadic creatures like him knew so much about advanced aetheric electronics! Someday, I’m going to have to return to this village and write an article about these guys.”

Daring raised a hoof. “Actually, Velvet, I take–”

“But that wasn’t enough.” Velvet gesticulated with her front hooves. “Turns out we had to focus the EM wave to specific directions—up, down, east, west—to further extend the range. Heh, thank Celestia the chief had a solution for that as well: he furnished a waveguide out of–”

“Velvet!” Daring stomped her hoof. “I may have a degree in Linguistic Ponthropology, but I don’t speak Mad Scientistese. Get to the point.”

“Always skipping the foreplay.” Velvet snorted, then smiled. “No wonder that old problem of yours left you.”

Daring returned Velvet’s smirk. “No complaints from me. She was a problem, in more ways than one. Better to cut straight to the meat of things, as I always say.”

“Uncultured swine.” Velvet turned her nose up and trotted towards the broad stone with a huff, briefly checking behind to see Daring regarding her with a bemused expression before following after. “How goes the war, Thunder?” Velvet said to the chief. “Anything blow up in our faces yet?”

Daring jerked her head towards Thunderhooves. “Wait, what?”

A rumbling chuckle came from Thunderhooves. “Nothing is out of tune yet, Lady Velvet. Your graceful visage is not yet threatened by anything exploding.” 

Velvet sighed. “Shame. Love me a good snap, crackle, and pop.”

She then sat next to the Jeep’s cannibalized antenna and lit her horn a deep cerise. Not too elaborate of a spell, compared to the mind-wringing incantations she had to cast minutes ago: just a simple one to measure the distance between the two charges.

“Map.”

Upon Velvet’s command—though not without rolling her eyes a bit—Daring hoofed over a map lying on the makeshift table. The tip of Velvet’s right hoof then pointed to a crumpled region southwest of Dodge Junction. “You said this village is roughly here, right?”

Thunderhooves nodded. 

“All right.” Velvet muttered to herself. “So the scale of this map is roughly one inch for every 2.3 miles. Now, the waveguide’s pointing westward, so…” Her left hoof ran from right to left the same way her mind ran through various calculations in her head. From the corners of her vision, Thunderhooves' and Daring’s snouts came into view, their owners leaning in to get a closer look at Velvet’s hoofwork.

“There.” Velvet’s left hoof thumped on a dot on the map, catching Daring’s attention. “Applewood.”

“Velvet, can’t you zoom in a little bit?” said Daring. “Applewood’s land area is almost as big as Vanhoover.”

“What, like a computer?” A small chuckle seeped into Velvet’s voice. “I’m sorry, Daring, but I’m afraid I can’t do that.” 

However, the smile on Velvet’s face faded after a few seconds. Unless… 

She shut her eyes tightly and attempted to recalibrate her spells. “Let’s see… Maybe I could try…”

Her horn strobed alternately between cerise and purple. Clouds of magic materialized on the antenna and followed the lightning’s course—up into the air and down the horizon. Meanwhile, there was a buzz in Velvet’s mind—not an adrenaline buzz this time, but something of a more sensory nature.

“Stop fantasizing about Night Light and concentrate!” teased Daring.

“Sorry, love, but he’s taken.” Velvet briefly opened her eyes to face Daring, then returned to having them closed. “Get your own bed buddy! Okay, no, but seriously, I’m trying to get a feel for the artifact’s surroundings.”

As Velvet fed magic into the antenna, she could feel sparks of magic bouncing around whatever container housed Indra’s Bow—like a mare feeling around in the dark. Some kind of leather bag, maybe? Anyway, maybe it'd be good to expand the magical field a notch.

Her teeth gritted the same time another surge of magic surged from her horn and into the antenna. The vessels in her forehead throbbed, and the vibrations rattled down her facial bones and into her teeth. “Okay…” Velvet seethed, then breathed out. She smacked her lips at the acrid scent of ionized magical energy entering her nose and swirling inside her pharynx. “...think I’ve expanded the field wide enough to cover the whole room.” Her front legs instinctively waved around as she felt the sides of the room, even pounding a wall in sync with her magic. 

The poundings resounded into her brain through her magic like a gong. Her mouth hung open. Her body spasmed, then froze.

“Holy shit…”

“What is it?!” Thunderhooves said.

“Velvet, what’s going on?” There was a tinge of fear in Daring’s voice.

“Metal,” breathed out Velvet as her eyes returned to normal size. “The wall’s made of metal. Glad I opted to use the non-electric version of this sensory spell.”

Daring’s and Thunderhooves’ lungs immediately released both their held breaths, tickling the sides of Velvet’s ears. “Celestia damn it, Vel. Don’t do that!” Daring groaned. 

“Do…what?” Velvet faced Daring.

“For a second there, I thought your cover had been blown and someone was trying to take control of your mind with magic.”

“Your kink, not mine…” Velvet cooed, then closed her eyes and continued to wave her forelegs in front of her face. “The wall feels jagged, though—like corrugated cardboard. Whole room feels long. Hallway, maybe? And there’s boxes on top of boxes blocking the path…”

“That sounds like a shipping container…” said Daring. “Why, of course! Velvet, I’ve got it! I know where the first piece of Indra’s Bow is!”

Velvet canceled the spell and allowed her magic to fizzle into the aether as she turned to Daring. Keeping her eyebrows folded, Daring kept staring at Velvet as she nodded. “There’s an airship port at the Applewood seaside.” Daring tapped the ground with her hoof. “That’s probably where Indra’s Bow is.”

Velvet stood up and extended a hoof towards the jeep. “So what’s the plan? We hop onto Jonathan and ride into the sunset?” Her eyes drifted to the Mare on the Moon. “…Or moonlight, in this case.”

“Jonathan?” Thunderhooves raised an eyebrow. “When did you name your car–”

“It’s…something she does with vehicles that spend more than a few hours with her.” Daring explained with a wave of her hoof, then stretched her legs and looked at Velvet. “Nah, let’s head out first thing tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Velvet raised an eyebrow, then pointed at Daring while turning to the bison chief. “Thunderhooves, can you believe this pony? I thought you said she was itching to get out of here!”

“No, I said that she did not want to sleep, not that she wanted to leave.”

“Don’t forget the injured pony in distress here! Agh…” Daring clutched a portion of the feathery burn on her shoulder.

“Besides—” A yawn interrupted Thunderhooves as he turned towards his teepee. “Your friend has a point. Surely you do not want to fall asleep behind the wheel and end up crashing your car?”

Velvet huffed. “Oh, please. Driving while sleepy would be the least dangerous thing we’ve done so far. Besides, Volt’s posse couldn’t have missed the big fat lightning rainbow extending through the sky. What if they track us down? What if they leave port along with the artifact? We’ll miss the boat…or airship, as it were.”

“They won’t leave port. Trust me.” Daring turned around and headed back to the medical tent. “Applewood’s timetables don’t allow any ships to leave the harbor at this hour. Celestia’s allowed us to have some rest.”

As Daring began to leave Velvet behind, the latter hurriedly dissipated the cloud of electric magic powering the fulgurite and trotted behind Daring, Thunderhooves tailing her as well. “And you know that how?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve stowed away on a ship, air or otherwise.”

“And the tracking down bit?”

“Remember what Volt said through the radio? ‘No need. I got what I came for?’” Daring replied, the last few words spoken with an impression of Volt’s alto, as if Daring’s already low-pitched, guttural voice couldn’t get any lower. “They’re looking to ship the artifact off, not to hunt us down.”

“Still,” interjected Thunderhooves as he turned to retire to a teepee that seemed larger than the rest, “it would not hurt to take precautions. Once you two leave, I will direct my tribe to move the village to another location.”

“Good idea.” Daring lifted the flap on the the entrance of her teepee to allow Velvet inside. “By the way, Vel: one more question before lights out…”

“Uh huh?”

“What kind of name is ‘Jonathan?!’”



	





Twilight Velvet was no stranger to Applewood, having gone to the city at least twice to interview for her paper. That said, she never had a reason to get close to the harbor, much less dump a jeep into a pond at a nearby city park. It was sad to see Jonathan go like that; he didn’t even get to die gloriously in battle like Evy.

“It’s attracting too much attention.” Daring’s words echoed in Velvet’s mind. “Besides, the Applewood Port Authority’s dirtier than Manehattan’s police department. We need to keep as low a profile as possible.”

Sneaking into the airship port was surprisingly—and perhaps worryingly—a breeze. A simple heating spell defeated the chain-link fence lining the perimeter. Not only could Velvet cut through with a simple heating spell, but apparently, the higher-ups didn’t see the need to install magical wards to prevent pegasi from flying over them, even if said pegasus in this case had only been allowed to take the bandage off her wing several minutes before. Getting into the harbor was easy.

Looking for Indra’s Bow, however, was not.

After swatting away a fly, Velvet’s eyes focused on the padlock of a shipping container. In her magic was one of the few things Jonathan had left to remember him by: a pair of retractable bolt cutters. Before Velvet set to work, she glanced at Daring from her sitting position. Daring was peeking through the edge of the shipping container and scanned for any nearby mercenary patrols. From a distance, airships and sea-ships idled along the shoreline, their mouths swallowing container vans and crew members alike. The hustle and bustle would have made for an awe-inspiring sight. But sightseeing would have to wait.

“Remind me again why you can’t use your sensory magic thing?” Daring gestured her hoof at the endless row of shipping containers. “There’s probably a hundred or so of these lying around, and we’ve only checked…what…six?”

So much for working better alone, huh? However, Velvet resisted the urge to grin and simply shook her head. “Thunderhooves and I used up the last of the fulgurites trying to build that setup from last night.”

A crunch, then metal clanging on the ground, was nearly drowned out by Daring’s huff. “Don’t you have a degree in magic science or something? Use it!” 

“Well, my master’s in magic tech is telling me that even though I know the electrical properties of the artifact’s lightning”—Velvet and Daring stepped aside, the former taking the container’s door with her telekinesis and facing her friend—“I can’t make lightning that’s attracted to the artifact itself. It’s one thing to know what Magic A looks like; it’s another thing to know how to create Magic A.” 

Before Velvet opened the door, she glanced to the side and into the distant hustle and bustle. Aside from the usual workers, ponies wearing Equestrian military uniforms patrolled the shipyard. These weren’t legitimate soldiers, though—or so Daring claimed earlier. There was the occasional security guard milling around, but they didn’t seem too bothered with the mercs around. 

Velvet shook her head. Task at hoof, Twilight...

The door creaked as Velvet levitated it open. It only swung a few inches before the duo’s noses wrinkled. The hint of a miasma seeped out the container, sending their front hooves to their noses. “Ugh, what are they keeping in here?” Velvet turned away, suppressing a gag and squeezing her eyes shut. “Leftover stinky cheese?”

The sound of Daring walking to the door and creaking it open reached Velvet’s ears. Just as Velvet wiped her nose and took a deep breath, Daring stood at the corner of her vision, frozen in place while gazing at the bowels of the container. “Not stinky cheese, but leftovers, all right.”

Velvet gazed into the container, and the container gazed back…

…or to be more precise, the bloodied corpse of a unicorn stallion inside gazed back. 

The stench wasted no time wafting into Velvet’s agape mouth and up her nose, but it barely registered in her mind. Scarlet was splattered on the white walls and pooling on the floor. A couple of flies buzzed over the stump on the stallion’s forehead: the only evidence left that he was a unicorn. On his blue, bloodstained uniform, the word “SNITCH” was smeared in red.

“Ho-oly shit…” Velvet mouthed. 

“Still think going in through the front gate was a good idea?” Daring tipped her pith helmet. “This isn’t even the worst thing I’ve seen the Applewood Port Authority do.”

Velvet rubbed her nose, a vain attempt to rid her nasal cavity of the stench, then narrowed her eyes at the container door. “Shouldn’t we call the police or something?” she said, taking the door with her magic.

“Is Volt coming with us?” A third voice—one belonging to a mare—echoed from the distance, somehow sneaking its way through the ambient din of boat horns. Velvet’s hair stood.

Daring darted her head around. “Crap, think the police will have to wait. Hurry up, Vel!”

Velvet’s concentration—and magic—slipped. The door bashed into the container and unleashed an unholy bellow.

As Velvet’s ears folded backwards along with her body, her fur stood on end, still rustling from the shockwave. “Oh crap! That’s bad!” Velvet put her hooves to her head. “That’s really really bad!

“Shush!” Daring’s hoof catapulted into Velvet’s mouth. The flavor of Fresh, Steaming Hot Certified Organic Asphalt reaching her brain; Velvet furrowed her eyebrows as Daring looked behind, ears twitching for some unfathomable reason.

Not unfathomable for long, however.

“Bridge, this is Baker-One” a stallion’s voice, audibly roughened from age, bounced off the containers. “Sounds like an Ursa Minor’s running loose at the southern cargo hold. We’re gonna go check it out.”

There was a pause. Daring’s wings fluttered in reflex.

“Well, I would if you didn’t call all our flyers into the airship!” The stallion snapped. “What the hell were you thinking?! Just…I know, I know. You’re not the only one who saw that lightning get inside the cargo hold…”

Velvet didn’t hear the next transmission. It was drowned out by a “C’mon, up there!” from Daring. Her hoof pointed at a row of tall crates to the right, perched on top of two shipping containers that were stacked on top of each other. The pegasus flew up to the tall crates in a single fluid motion, while Velvet had to settle with clambering over another pile of crates on the ground.

“What are you waiting for? Hearth’s Warming?!” whisper-shouted Daring.

Velvet panted, her foreleg muscles screaming as they dragged her up a green ammo crate. “You…you couldn’t have thought of a more…accessible hiding spot—one that didn’t need wings?”

“Not unless you know any invisibility spells!”

“The only thing invisible here is your brain!”

By the time Velvet got her front hooves to Daring’s level, a stallion’s snout was peeking from one of the containers below. Velvet’s hind legs kicked in the air. “Pull me up! Pull me up!” Velvet whispered urgently.

Without another word, Daring obliged. “Good great Celestia, what is your fiancé feeding you?!” She grunted through clenched teeth. “No more eclairs when you get back to him, all right?”

Velvet blushed as she clambered up. “What? He likes curvy mares.”

As Velvet hunkered down behind the left side of the row of crates, Daring set her helmet down and peeked through the right edge. Velvet was just about to open her mouth to speak when the stallion’s voice resonated from the containers and into Velvet’s ears.

“Looks clear. C’mon, River.”

Velvet’s eyes widened at the stallion’s last word. Lying on her stomach, she peeked from the top of the shipping container, her hooves gripping its edge. Hopefully by “River,” he meant something like “Summer River,” or “River Song,” or...

Tailing behind the stallion, a grayish-brown, heavyset figure with two horns adopted a three-legged gait, one cloven hoof perched on the stock of her battle rifle. A turquoise necklace, almost hidden under her girth, fur, and tan camouflaged shirt, all but confirmed her identity.

Velvet grimaced.

The stallion in front of River Rapids stopped, then looked back. “Pull yourself together, Private.”

“I ap…apologize…” Rapids’s voice trembled despite the grin on her face. “It’s just…I have never been to the Orient before! Shame Volt couldn’t come with us, though.”

From the top of the container, Velvet scuttled back and tapped Daring’s wing. “Hey, quit looking at those ships,” she whispered. “This, you gotta see.”

By the time Daring joined in on the eavesdropping, Rapids and her commander were now scoping the back of the shipping container Daring had invaded minutes ago. “Yeah well, from what I heard,” the commander continued, “Volt had to leave early—take care of the MBT in the sea-ship that left a few hours ago.”

Velvet and Daring exchanged shocked glances. Did they miss the boat?

Meanwhile, Rapids raised an eyebrow. “The MBT? Isn’t that overkill?”

“Not to mention tactically unsound.” A third mercenary walked in from the side. The earth pony stallion leaned against one of the shipping containers and casually scratched his front hoof, the grenade launcher slung on his chest shifting slightly. “Jungles, mountains, and cities aren’t very friendly to those things.”

“Yes, well, employer’s wishes.” The commander shrugged. “We don’t do what he wants, then Volt doesn’t get a share of the Spectrum. No share of the Spectrum means no lightning powers for Her Best.”

“But of course.” The earth pony grenadier rolled his eyes. “The elites get the cool toys first.”

The commander shook his head. “Don’t listen to him, River. Think of it like this: they were selected for a reason. One day, if you prove your worth to Volt, you too can join their ranks.”

“So… how are the kids?”

Velvet and Daring continued to watch Rapids’ team scan the area. The conversations among the mercenaries had since atrophied into sporadic small talk about the weather and Shadow Spade books. Velvet thought she saw Daring bite her lip at the mention of the latter, but decided not to pursue the thought further. Not when there were more pressing matters…

…like Rapids climbing the pile of crates Velvet had used earlier to get to the top.

Velvet and Daring backed away and out of sight from the mercs. Rapids was already one container height from the ground—closer than any of the other mercs were at that point. The commander and the grenadier had disappeared behind other containers, no doubt still looking for that “Ursa Minor.”



The faint, familiar sound of Daring’s trowel sliding past leather reached Velvet’s ears. Its blade glistened under the sun while its owner’s eyes locked themselves onto Rapids. “Alone, back turned, and hidden behind those crates,” noted Daring. “Time to close in.”

Daring stepped forward.

“Wait!” Velvet grabbed Daring by the withers. “No, no, no, we can’t kill her!”

“Why the hell not?” Daring frowned, then blew a puff of air to her mane. “She’s an easy target.”

Velvet’s eyes darted. “Uh…um… if you kill her, you’re going to have to kill her squadmates, too.” She pointed at the grenadier and the commander. “If you don’t, they’ll smell a rat when they realize one of their number is missing.”

“Velvet, we took down an entire platoon of troops in the San Palomino Desert. Three guys in an area with lots of cover is nothing.”

“Yes, but ‘Bridge’ will also smell a rat if this squad doesn’t report back. Plus—” Velvet’s forehead creased as she raised her eyebrows “—I made a promise to Thunderhooves: bring River Rapids back alive. You wouldn’t want to let our only allies in this mess down, would you?”

“But–”

“Think about it this way.” Velvet ducked her head just as Rapids turned her head. “I’m sure Thunderhooves’ tribe would be real grateful to us if we brought Rapids back. Maybe they’d be even more willing to give you help in your next excursion!”

Daring lowered her head, visibly ruminating on Velvet’s words.

“Good point.”

Velvet’s tensed chest allowed itself to relax when Daring put her trowel away. “Still…” Daring’s ears folded back while Rapids jumped down the container. “ …if what we heard is true, then maybe we arrived too late. They might have already left with Indra’s Bow.”

Rapids’ team converged after a few minutes, so Daring and Velvet resumed their peeping. “Whelp, Fuze and I drew a blank,” the commander said. “How about you, River?”

She shook her head. “Nothing on my end.”

The commander put a hoof to his chin. “Probably just some cargo shifting in the wind then. Still, won’t hurt to take precautions. Let’s get back to the Sun Queen and tell Bridge to amp up security on the package.”

“Package?” Velvet glanced aside. Do they mean…

“Sweet!” The grenadier pulled the collar of his camouflage fatigues, allowing the sweat on his chest to dry. “Can’t wait to change to our normal fatigues. These knockoffs of the Equestrian military uniform sure get hot as Tartarus.”

Rapids snickered. “‘Really, Fuze? Worse than Blizzard Blitz?”

The grenadier’s eyes narrowed. “We do not talk about Blizzard Blitz.”

Velvet’s eyes remained locked at the mercs walking away as Rapids continued to tease Fuze. “Sun Queen, huh?” muttered Velvet as she turned to Daring. “You think that means–”

Daring’s foreleg took Velvet by the withers and pivoted her towards the right edge of the row of crates. “Wha– Hey! What are you–”

“There, southwest. You might have to squint.”

Velvet’s subconscious quickly deduced what Daring wanted her to see; still, she pretended to take her time as her struggling died down, allowing her eyes to bask upon the bulbous creamy white airship in the distance. The tips of its rear fins peeked out of its gas bags, while the propellers at its flanks spun leisurely. A UK-2642 Dynastat hybrid airship—if only she could interview the crazy bastard who built this…

Her eyes directed themselves to a patch of gray near the airship’s nose. It was blurry at first, but there was nothing a little squinting couldn’t clear up.

“Sun Queen…” Velvet muttered as the contours of the letters came into view. If that wasn’t enough to confirm the find, the three tan figures walking towards the airship certainly did the trick.

“And I bet that is where our ‘package’ is.”
> Chapter 12: Passing Gas
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was one thing to walk on a cloud. 

It was another thing to burrow oneself inside one like a pony-flavored cloud burrito. 

Velvet blinked several times when a few drops of condensing moisture fell from her soaked fur and in front of her eyes. Her primal instincts insisted that she shake the water off like a dog, but she resisted. 

“Do… not… precipitate!” Velvet gritted under her breath.

Reports from the airship’s weather team told them that rain wasn’t due for another five hours. If the mercs spotted one of the clouds in the area crying by its lonesome, Velvet and Daring’s cover would be blown.

“Remind me to never sneak aboard an airship with a crazy, impulsive pegasus!”  Velvet spat at Daring Do. “I could use a hairdryer…or a wind tunnel.” Velvet frowned as the humidity and altitude made her voice whinier than she was comfortable with.

“Sure beats your suggestion,” Daring said as she shaded her eyes with her hoof and tracked four mercenaries patrolling inside one of the airship’s gondolas. When they disappeared behind a corner, a single flap from Daring’s wings sent the cloud drifting towards the airship.

“Hey! What’s wrong with stealing their uniforms and blending in with the mercs?” Velvet’s face contorted to a frown. “That way, at least I wouldn’t – I mean, we wouldn’t have to get all wet…”

“Passenger manifests and head counts are a thing, Vel.” Daring smirked. “Besides, pretty sure they don’t have any pants that fit that gut of yours.”

Velvet struck back with an even wider smile. “Same problem with your ass!”

“At least it’s all muscle!”

Velvet opened her mouth to respond, but a light thud interrupted the mudslinging. The cloud had drifted close enough to the gondola for Daring to tap the window. Velvet wriggled out of the cloud slightly, braced her front hooves at the window, and squinted at the lock. Time to shine…

“Can you get it open?” Daring asked.

Velvet breathed out as the lock began to glow in concert with her horn. “Thank Celestia, it’s just a latch. If this lock needed a key, we’d have to resort to smashing the window.”

From the corner of Velvet’s vision, Daring’s reflection cocked her head. “I-I’m sorry, what?” Daring snorted. “You can create a device that can detect an artifact miles away using nothing but a radio and a bunch of magic stones, but you don’t know how to pick a lock?”

“It’s not that I don’t know.” Velvet swung the window open with her magic, then scooted to the side to allow Daring to enter the window first. “You have to feel the tumblers with your telekinesis and manipulate them ever so slightly. It’s really intricate! Put too much pressure on one tumbler and snap, it gets jammed in place and you’ve made the lock even ‘lockier’ than before. Give me a good set of bolt cutters any day: much more dependable.”

After making her way inside, Daring helped Velvet step out of the cloud and wormed her way into the window. As soon as she landed, Velvet wasted no time shaking the water off her fur, forcing Daring to shield herself with her wing. After glancing at the mess she made, Velvet noticed a distinct lack of puddle under Daring’s hooves. “What the—how in Equestria do you keep yourself dry?” 

Daring closed the window, silencing the howling of the outside winds before spreading her wings in front of Velvet. “Pegasus magic, my young apprentice. Come along, now.” She trotted down a hall that led towards the stern. “If we take a left and head up the stairs, we might be able to find a room to crash in.”

Velvet rolled her eyes before tailing after Daring. “First time you’ve set hoof here, and you’re acting like you own the place? Ever been in a UK-2642 aetheric-helium airship before?”

Daring looked behind and gestured with her hoof. “A what airship? Listen, Vel, I don’t give a flying feather about the names and specs of these pigskins. They all have the same room layout anyway.”

“Troglodyte.” Velvet pointed her nose in the air and quickened her pace to catch up. “Anyway, the UK-2642 airship is the newest of Fetlock Maretin’s cargo aircraft designs. Optimized for speedier trips and smoother flying than its predecessors, it even comes with a weather modulator so there’s absolutely no risk of flying into freak storms!” 

“Well, look who’s fangirling over big things full of gas.” Daring mused in false excitement before turning and waiting for Velvet to join her at the top of the stairs. “You wrote an article about this, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did! Want to hear more?”

Frowning, Daring shook her head as she walked further down the hall. “Um, actually–”

“Good!” Velvet beamed, ignoring Daring’s facehoofing as she turned away. “So, a couple of months ago, one of the chief engineers responsible for designing this baby invited me to Fetlock Maretin’s warehouse in Baltimare. Oddly enough, he started by showing off the emergency drop capsules. I asked him ‘Hey, why the fuck are you presenting this as your first impression?’ And then he goes…”





“...and then he told me to shove my flux capacitor up my spell field matrix!” Velvet’s voice raised above tolerable levels and Daring had to shush her. 

“Thrilling, but let’s not bring the whole ship down on us just because he was bad at foreplay.”

Velvet snorted. Not like the components would have fit anyway.

Several minutes later, Velvet and Daring found a storage closet to stow away in. After settling in and placing their saddlebags on the shelves, Daring left the room in a rush, ostensibly to steal some food from the galley, leaving Velvet inside the closet. The only window in the storage closet allowed a small shaft of light to illuminate some dust motes off to Velvet’s left, who sat near the center of the room. The closet door was two body lengths to the right, while rows upon rows of dark metal shelves, filled with various boxes and bags, were bolted to the walls in front of and behind Velvet. 

“Hmph.” Velvet snatched a pink towel from the shelf. “This is some honeymoon. Look at this dump. A backwater travel agency would’ve offered us a better deal.”

Muttering profanities to herself, Velvet wrung her mane with the towel held by her magic, extracting the last bits of cloudwater from the shiny, dampened locks. Struggling for a moment before she pried the window open, the wind howled through the compartment as she chucked the damp towel into the open air. “I swear: if I ever have to use cloud cover to break into somepony’s property again, I’ll settle down and become a doting mother.”

Levitating a small mirror pilfered from one of the duffle bags, Velvet primped the back of her mane before pulling it through a decorative hair tie. It wouldn’t do to appear in front of her fiancee while looking like a soaking wet weather pony. Hair tie in her telekinesis, Velvet bunched up the locks to bring them away from her face—usual Canterlot pony routines.

Once done, her telekinesis drove two wires up the sides of the mirror.

“And now the magic really begins…” Velvet muttered.

Her horn began to pulse light blue and deep purple as she layered a second spell on top of her telekinesis. Two flashes of light later, and a pair of steaming grayish granules joined the wires to the mirror bringing up a swirling gray static to play across the surface. Velvet’s face broke into a satisfied smile.

Usual Canterlot pony routines.

A pang shot from her horn to her temple, causing Velvet to wince. Rubbing the offending area, she gazed balefully at the wires. Conjuring aetheric solder for on-the-spot electronics wasn't all that difficult. However, conjuring solder while levitating something else, or doing any other magical operation for that matter, required twice the energy and three times the level of concentration.

Velvet checked a nearby clock—11:00 am—just about lunch break at the Canterlot Observatory. Night Light never failed to sneak into the stock room and await updates from his fiancee, and now was an especially important update. She told him that she would only spend two days in southern Equestria. Velvet hadn’t foreseen the trip to the Orient. It would take three days to cross the Luna Oceans, and once they got there, she had no idea how long it would take before she could contact him again. She had to make this count.

“Oh, Night Light…” Velvet sighed. “I’m not usually this late.” Usually, ugh.

Satisfied with her wiring, Velvet's horn came to life, pushing her aetheric electricity into the mirror. She smiled as she hit upon the right frequency, and opened her eyes. 

"There we go."

A sea of static was still flooding the mirror. 

“…or not.” Shaking her head, she nickered. “Kick it up a notch, I guess?”

Velvet once again focused her eyes on the mirror. Her horn brightened, flooding the mirror with a stronger current as her body instinctively leaned towards it. Blinding light filled the storage closet.

Static was still flooding the mirror.

“No. No, no, no, no, NO!”

Velvet slammed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. The deluge of magic pumping through her horn produced a dull, pressing pain—like her horn was going to cave into her forehead. Telekinesis, amperage modulation, calculation expediters: her horn coupled spell after spell onto the expanding vortex of magic. “Come on, come on!” Her heart raced in sync with her panting as she tried to extend the spell’s range. “Don’t do this to me! I’ve got…to tell…Night Light that…Daring Do’s taking me to the Orient!”

A wave of magic surged from her horn, punctuated by a suppressed shout. A loud buzz reverberated through the walls of the storage closet. Lightheadedness filled Velvet’s head as her vision darkened around the edges. 

After another breath, everything went limp, 

The mirror fell to the floor in a tinkle of broken glass. Velvet’s body slowly crumpled onto the hard aluminum floor, her eyes catching a brief flicker of the skyline of Canterlot before it went dark. 





The first thing that greeted Velvet when she came to was the ringing ache in her horn. A harsh, yellow glare coming from a single bare ceiling bulb caused her to squint. The last time she had experienced a magic backfire this bad was in college, when her prank to sabotage a hookah belonging to her roommate Wheat Grass blew up in both their faces. 

Sitting up and rubbing her head, Velvet noticed a different sort of yellow glare: Daring was leaning on one of the shelves, and she didn’t look pleased. Next to her, Velvet’s prior mess of electronics had been neatly tucked back into a duffle bag, the antenna poking out of the zipper. Velvet felt a chaotic mixture of clothes under her body slide across the floor, a black leather jacket especially chafing her fur. The clothing collective felt less like the improvised mattress it was supposed to be and more like sleeping in a giant, musty hamper.

Truly, five-star bed amenities worthy of a luxury cruise.

“Good evening, Twilight.” There was a slightly acrid tinge in Daring’s voice as she faced her companion. The brim of her helmet shaded part of her scowling face. “Any reason you were playing Radio Stable wannabe and blowin' stuff up while trigger-happy henchponies are wandering around wanting to give their Saturday-Night Specials a workout?!”

Twilight sat up a little straighter as she finally noticed the steam emitting from Daring’s ears. "Um, what?"





"I mean... you didn't even lock the damn door! You're lucky you're not sporting a few new holes!"

Velvet’s eyes then drifted to the wall clock—7:08. The blue darkness from the window only served to confirm just how long she’d been out cold. Combining so many spells on top of trying to increase amplitude all at the same time was a stupid idea...

The sound of something heavy wrapped in paper hitting the floor drew Velvet’s attention to the side. “Your bean burrito’s cold,” said Daring.

Frowning, Velvet looked at the brown paper bag before turning it over with a hoof. If the slightly fetid smell from the bag or her throbbing, nauseating horn ache weren’t enough to kill her appetite, the lingering guilt of her previous failure certainly was.

Daring’s eyes tracked over to the duffle bag, specifically the antenna poking out of the zipper. “Night Light again, huh?” Daring’s voice softened.

“Yeah.”

“I take it you weren’t able to make it work…”

Velvet huffed in a heavy sigh. “He was expecting me to get in touch with him today. And now that my travel plans have changed… rather drastically, mind you…” Velvet looked back out of the darkened window. “Don’t get me wrong: Nighty’s a patient stallion, but even he has his limits. It’s going to be days before I can even try to contact him again, and I’ve been misleading him up to now. What am I going to do?”

Velvet hung her head as Daring studied her, looking for something to say. A thick silence filled the room. Daring took off her pith helmet and let out a sigh. “Look. I’m… sorry that—”

“ —Don’t be.” Velvet gave a wan smile. “You didn’t put a gun to my head. I pushed you to let me come. Too late to turn back now.” Velvet gave another sigh as she lowered her head. “I just wish I knew how to get in touch with him…” 

“Tell you what—” Daring gestured with her hoof  “—once we land in the Orient, we’ll look for a messenger dragon and send your fiancé a letter. That sit well with you?”

Velvet looked up. Her eyes shimmered before she leaped at Daring, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Whoa! Whoa!” Daring threw her hooves upwards, then attempted to wriggle out of Velvet’s grasp. “That’s if we even find a messenger dragon, as they’re kind of rare and—” 

“—Th-thanks a bunch, Do Dare!” Velvet muzzled into Daring’s chest.

Velvet felt Daring’s body gradually relax, even going so far as to pat Velvet’s back. The hug had only lasted for a few seconds at most, but time wasn’t a concern for Velvet at the moment. The company of somepony—anypony—was all she needed.

Once Velvet’s hooves had released her, Daring sat back with a huff. “Look, I’m not so good at this relationship stuff. But I get the feeling you two will be okay.”

Velvet cocked her head to the side. Daring seemed to be wanting to open up about something, but it looked like such a thing was proving to be rather difficult. 

“Well… This probably comes as no surprise to you, but I tend to get around… both with mares and stallions.” 

Velvet only raised an eyebrow. “Yes? So?”

“So, I’m asking you to think about something: why do you think I haven’t settled down with anypony?” 

The smirk fading from her lips; Velvet sat up and considered her words for a moment, stroking her chin.  “Maybe because you never sit still?”

“Exactly. I mean, think about it. Waiting for your partner to return from trip after perilous trip… some of them going on for weeks on end?  Each time leaving them to wonder…Will they come back at all? Disappear without a trace?” Daring shook her head. “Few ponies…or griffons, or other creatures for that matter…can bear such a relationship. I know it. Everypony I’ve slept with knows it.” 

Daring paused, looking away for a moment before continuing. “It’s the lifestyle I’ve chosen for now. But you? You’re lucky, Velvet. You’ve found somepony you can lean on for emotional support—somepony that doesn’t mind if you can’t always be together physically.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Velvet scoffed. “What, have you slept with him too?!”

Daring got up and came over to sit next to the velveted window. She placed a hoof on Velvet’s shoulder. “Well, I know if he was feeling blue, you wouldn’t be able to tell, right?” They both shared a giggle, and Velvet took a deep breath before Daring continued. “I understand that you two have a really good thing going between you. Tell me: this isn’t the first time you’ve been away from Canterlot, right?”

“Right.”

“And this isn’t the first time you left him hanging on a video call, right?”

Velvet’s voice lowered into a little growl. “Yeah…”

“Well, there you go.” Daring gestured with her wing, smiling. “He’s already proven his patience. He’s proven his loyalty. If Night Light really loves you, he’ll learn to give you a chance.”

Velvet scoffed. “It’s not that simple! Everypony has their limits...”

“True. He’ll probably be angry with you. It might harm a lot of the trust you two have going. The fight you two are about to have might even delay the wedding date for a while.” 

Velvet rolled her eyes. “You’re a real ball o’sunshine, aren’t ya?”

“Never learned the power of positive thinking in that fancy Canterlot school, eh?”

And with that, Daring got up and walked over to the light switch. They both met each other’s eyes for a few seconds. “Give him a chance, Velvet. I’m sure he’ll give you the same.”

Velvet dropped her gaze to the floor as she felt her eyes fill with unshed tears. The light clicked off without further preamble. “Goodnight.”

Velvet’s mind raced as she reflected on Daring’s words. They certainly weren’t delivered with grace or flowing prose. But there was something in her words that resonated with truth. Perhaps it was Daring’s perspective on things: it’s one thing to assure yourself into thinking your lover would stick by your side, but to hear it from somepony else?

“Maybe I was wrong…”

Velvet could feel Daring’s eyes on her in the dark. 

“You would be a good self-help author.”

A snicker responded in the dark. “Pfft. Yeah, don’t flatter me.” As her eyes adjusted, Velvet could make out Daring’s smile in the dark as she leaned back, her forelegs crossed behind her head. The two exchanged stares for a few seconds, the droning of the airship’s propellers providing the only source of noise. After what seemed like several hours, Daring pointed at the brown paper bag.

“You ever going to eat that burrito?”

Suddenly, the broom closet was filled with muffled laughter.
> Chapter 13: Snatch and Grab
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gallant True’s journal: 06/21/1969

Marvelous! Simply marvelous!

When I made landfall to the Southern Fillyppines several days ago, I had surmised that the multichromatic properties of Eucalyptus deglupta’s bark were magical in nature. Well, let the record state that I’m happy to have been proven wrong! The tree sheds patches of itself off at different times rather than the uniform pattern of other plants, and as each patch matures, it changes color. The result: a bark consisting of an interplay of several streaks of green, blue, purple, red, and various other colors!

Of course, this pales in comparison to the other discovery I’ve made about the plant. For some reason, its seeds are attracted to areas where the Spectrum and its beacon artifact lie. I’m not sure if Sarimanok has noticed, but I should really get around to informing him! He must be–

Creeeeaak… The sound of a door made Velvet’s hair stand on end. With a grace that surprised even her, she plucked a screwdriver from her bag and braced her back against a metal rack as hooves closed in. “I know cliffhangers can be murder,” Velvet muttered to herself, “but this takes the cake.” 

She sprang into action, only to stop an inch from Daring Do’s face, her raised eyebrow blasting all the tension from Velvet’s muscles. Dropping the screwdriver, Velvet remembered once again that breathing was a part of her biological functions. 

“Really thought you could take me out, huh?” Daring dropped a plastic bag on the floor and retrieved her journal, which had been left on the floor. “Points for trying, really.” 

Sputtering, Velvet went from relieved to growing a cheesy grin. “I’ll take you out, alright. All night, any night, you name the time, Do Dare.” 

“Do you kiss your fiancé with that mouth?” Daring flipped through the pages idly.

“Lips, cheek, neck, and other areas…” 

Daring pursed her lips, but a small chuckle nonetheless managed to break through. “Glad to hear you’re in higher spirits today. You don’t do well as a broody and mopey housewife.”

“Eh.” Velvet crossed her forelegs. “I’m just happy I passed that wreckage of a burrito from last night. Is that what they serve in Tartarus?!”

“TMI, Velvet…”

Daring dragged a cardboard box from the corner and set her notebook down on it. Meanwhile, Velvet’s eyes scoped Daring’s body, and she cocked her head at the absence of reddish, feathery burns on the pegasus’ coat. “Where are your lightning scars?” 

“Those weren’t scars. The buffalo in the medical tent said they’re called ‘lightning flowers’: broken capillaries under the skin. They clear away after a few days.”

“Huh…” Velvet cocked her head to the side, pouting in mock disappointment. “Shame, they looked cool on you.” Velvet scooted to the side, clearing her throat while patting the floor next to her. “So, what’s in the bag?” 

“MRE’s.”

Velvet raised her hoof and grinned. 

“They’re rations.” Daring crossed her forelegs, nipping Velvet’s next words in the bud. “They’re for eating, not bomb crafting.”

The grin transformed into a pout. “But those heating bricks! I want to blow shit up! Explodey Boom Things!”

“Use something else, Vel.” Daring’s tail flicked irritably. “Where we’re going, meals aren’t going to come easy.”

“Meals my ass.” Velvet rolled her eyes. “MRE’s…more like… Malodorous, Rancid Excrement. You could build a dirty bomb from those things.”

Daring chuckled. “Really?”

“Well, not that I know of…” Velvet glanced aside. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you could, though. I did make firecrackers from the heating bricks during my grad school days.” She scooted closer to Daring. “If you don’t mind a little heat, I could demonstrate…”

Daring cut off Velvet by taking a blueprint from her side and spreading it over the makeshift table. “Keep your pyrotechnics away from my blueprints. After we recover the next piece of Indra’s Bow, you can have your fun.” 

Velvet rolled her eyes, but smirked all the same. “Spoilsport.”

Daring plucked a red ballpen from the saddlebag beside her and drew several rectangles on the nose of the airship. “Anyway, my hunch was right. The Indra’s Bow fragment is at the most forward section of the cargo hold, basically in the nose of the ship.”

“Meaning”—Velvet nudged Daring with her elbow—“it’s in the…bow of the ship?

“Shut up, you’re not funny. Anyway, that section has about six shipping containers. Trouble is, Volt’s elites are in there: ex-special forces spooks. These aren’t the kinds of enemies you can just mow down with a machine gun by the dozens.”

“So… we gotta find a way to draw them out then?” Velvet pointed to a labeled area of the blueprint with a hoof. “We can lead them to the kitchens nearby!”

“You must stop letting your stomach cloud your decisions.” Daring moved Velvet’s hoof away from the kitchen area. “I like eclairs as much as the next mare, but if you keep that up, the only thing you’ll be eating is my dust.” Daring ignored Velvet’s quivering lips. “Besides, they’d notice the missing supplies.”  

“Well, you’re no fun,” Velvet pouted, then drifted her hoof further down to the left side of the floorplan.  “Anyway, if it’s diversions we’re looking for, we can lead them over here!” Velvet’s hoof traced a diagonal line over to the left bow of the ship.

“The port generator room?” Daring cocked her head. “Um… I don’t quite…”

“Why, my faithful student, weren’t you paying attention in class? No gold star for you.”

Daring raised a very unimpressed eyebrow.

“Right, right, sorry.” Velvet cleared her throat. “Lemme explain: the UK-2642 has four generator rooms—two in the bow, two in the stern. The airship has enough redundant power to keep flying as long as it has two working generators.” A cloud of magic plucked the ballpen from Daring’s hoof and pointed it at the room in question. “But this…” Velvet’s eyes sparkled in the glowing magenta of her horn, her face marked with a devilish grin. “…this one houses the only generator powering the weather modulator. It’ll be guarded, but if we can take this bastard out…”

Daring’s eyes widened. “…we put heat on the mercs. That could force them to relocate some of their comrades in the cargo hold!”

“Gold St—”

Velvet was cut off by a hoof pressed up against her muzzle. “Don’t say it.” Daring growled. 

“Yes, well!” Velvet pushed Daring’s hoof back with the back of the pen. “Ready to blow some shit up?” 

Daring rolled her eyes. “It’s like you get off on this or something.”

On cue, Velvet let out a deep moan. “There’s nothing a mare likes better than a hot, explosive climax.” She nearly danced in excitement, Daring watching her with a little wariness. “And it’s always better with a friend.”  

“I don’t know what’s going to kill us first: your pyrotechnics, your libido, or your euphemisms.” Daring pulled Velvet back to Equestria. “There should be a shift change eighteen hours from now. That’s when we’ll look to make our move. In the meantime—” Daring arched her back and stretched her forelegs “—we have time to relax.”

“Oh, great! We’ll have an audience for later!” 

“Fucking incorrigible, aren’t you?”





At three in the morning, the catwalks crisscrossing between the UK-2642’s air cells hid in the darkness, save for the occasional splash of light from fixtures above. It was a far cry from the warmly lit interior of the gondolas beneath. Clenching her teeth tight to stop them from chattering, Twilight Velvet wrapped her trembling legs around a girder, the iciness of the metal crawling into her fur. The propellers, the airship’s control surfaces, and the stray gusts of wind from outside—all these conspired to shake her off the metal beam and into the catwalks below. She couldn’t even remember how she got into this position, much less why she agreed to the plan. Hooves were for floors, thank you very much.

“Report in, Sierra teams.” From below, a mare’s voice filtered through a brief pulse of static, causing Velvet’s ears to twitch. She craned her head at the source of the noise: a walkie-talkie held by an aquamarine earth pony walking on the catwalk. Accompanying him was a silver griffon, his smooth facial feathers and anxious eyebrows betraying his youth.

“Sierra Pectus-Four-Two here,” the earth pony spoke to the radio, “nothing to report, over.”

“Psst, Do Dare.” Turning to face her friend, Velvet stuffed her nausea into the recesses of her mind and pointed at the two mercenaries. At least they had some modicum of warmth, standing under the glow of a solitary light bulb. As the earth pony turned back towards the light again, Velvet noted the firearm slung across his chest. A week ago, she would’ve called it a machine gun with a banana clip, but sticking around ponies like Daring Do had taught her a few things.

“Ah!” Tracking the earth pony’s AK rifle, Daring’s eyes seemed to twinkle despite the darkness. She was standing bipedally to Velvet’s left, bracing herself on a vertical girder with her left foreleg, her wings splayed for balance. A small smile crept on her lips as she unsheathed her trowel with her right hoof. “And since there are no gun shows currently in town…”

Velvet’s hooves twitched, and her fur stood on end. “So we drop on these guys now? I’m already sick of playing cat burglar.”

Daring shook her head. “Not yet. Let’s wait and see if anypony else is nearby.”

As Daring and Velvet scanned the surrounding darkness, the earth pony put his radio away and elbowed the griffon in the ribs. “Now’s not the time for cold hooves, Grigory…or cold paws, in this case.”

“I-it’s just…chyort!” the griffon stammered in a thick Thrussian accent and grimaced. “I really wanted to give him the necktie.”

“Bleh, you’re right. We didn’t do enough.” The earth pony shrugged. “But what can you do: he bled out from the cut horn and Sleet wanted us to regroup in the airship stat.”

At the earth pony’s words, Velvet’s stomach twisted. The guard’s body from yesterday flashed in her mind, and a quick glance back at Daring revealed the pegasus’s hooves tightening their grip on the catwalk. 

Both mercenaries exited from the island of light, making their way to another bulb directly under the Daring Duo. “You remembered to give Ivory the photos, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Good.” The earth pony grinned. “She’ll appreciate that. She needs to find ways to keep the newbie port authority guards in check. Think of it as a stepping stone toward impressing her.”

“You do realize she’s forty-three and I’m twenty-seven, right?” The griffon sighed while keeping one claw on his shotgun. “Gulf is too wide.”

“Not necessarily. You’re roughly the same age as her in pony years, actually.” The earth pony stretched his legs a bit. “Of course, that means by the time you’re bald and gray–” He paused, his eyes surveying the griffon’s coat. “Well, grayer than you are now, Ivory will still have ten to twenty years more to her.”

The earth pony paused for a moment, then approached the griffon. “So if you do make this work, make your time together count. It’s not every day you meet somepony like her.”

Daring pivoted her head towards Velvet, interrupting the eavesdropping. “Screw it.”

“Wh-what?” Velvet breathed out. She shook her head and tapped her temple. The vibration of the airframe must’ve been getting to her brain. “We’re gonna jump on them now? What about our original plan?”

“Wait, dammit, not what I meant.” Daring covered her forehead with her right hoof. “I mean unscrew it.”

“What do you… Oh.”

Velvet peeked over the side and squinted at the light bulb shining down on the two mercs. One of her front hooves shielded her eyes from the bulb’s harsh glare, cerise clouds coalescing around the casing. Channeling some sensory spells into her levitation, Velvet felt around the bulb and jostled it ever so slightly. Arcs jumped from the socket to the foot contact and tickled her brain as her telekinesis swiveled the bulb a few degrees. With the right technique, a bulb could be jerked out of its socket without snapping its base off.





“Lights out.”

Darkness flooded around the two mercs. They darted their heads around, rearing up on their hind legs and drawing their weapons. The griffon muttered long strings of sentences; Velvet wasn’t sure whether the quaver in his voice came from fear or his Thrussian dialect. Quickly, she levitated the light bulb out of the merc’s field of view and stuffed it in her messenger bag. She’d have to play with her new toy later. There were still bullies in the playground, and these two were out for more than just lunch money.

With her free hoof, Daring pointed at the earth pony while looking straight into Velvet’s eyes. Velvet got the message, focused on her target, and coiled her legs like a spring. Just as discussed...

“Get my six, Grigory.” The earth pony aimed through the sights of his rifle. His leg muscles tensed as he bit his lip. His breaths were deep, but steady—a far cry from his hyperventilating comrade.

“Sh-should we call them in?!” the griffon asked.

The earth pony glanced at Grigory. “Not yet. Let’s do a sweep first.”

The earth pony went back to his rifle, pivoting his aim left, then right. The wind howled through the catwalk for a second as he repeated the maneuver. His grip on the weapon seemed to loosen after that.

Then he looked up.

“CALL TH–”

Velvet’s hooves made contact. The earth pony’s snout shattered. His back legs crumpled as he was thrown back with a sickening lurch, Velvet landing atop him with a loud “Oof!” She grunted and rolled off the earth pony’s body, struggling to regain her hooves while Grigory spun around and pointed his shotgun at her.

A dark yellow blur flashed past.

Velvet gaped as Grigory clutched his throat and gurgled, blood streaming from his neck and staining his claws. He staggered forwards, feeble attempts at words escaping from his beak. Behind him, Daring emerged from the darkness, the muscles in her scowling face barely moving as she yanked Grigory’s head feathers backward and fixed her grip on her trowel. Daring glared into Grigory’s shrunken irises, her eyes as piercing as her weapon. 

The trowel sank through the back of his neck. Grigory’s limbs spasmed once, then hung limp.

Allowing Grigory’s body to slump to the floor, Daring trotted to the still-breathing earth pony and delivered another coup de grace, this time through the side of the neck. Velvet winced; the darkness hid the blood from her eyes, but not her ears. She could hear it splatter on the floor. If Daring was trying to spare her from extra carnage, it was too late for that. “Cocksuckers,” Daring spat.

“Holy shit…” Velvet whispered as she got up and surveyed the bodies. “Glad I’m on your side!”

Ignoring that, Daring sheathed her trowel and began rummaging through the pouches in the earth pony’s vest. “Here.” She tossed a walkie-talkie to Velvet, who caught it with her magic. “We have to move. Their squadmates won’t be far behind, and they’ll know something’s up when these guys’ radios go silent.”

After placing the radio in her bag, Velvet took out the light bulb and focused a beam of magic onto the filaments, crackles escaping from the bulb and into the outside air. A glowing magenta cloud began to glimmer inside the bulb, causing Velvet to smile to herself. This might work nicely. Just gonna fiddle around with the halogenation process…and that should do it.

“Whatcha got over there?” Daring eyed Velvet for a second.

“Just a little something to knock out the mercs in the cargo hold. Same principle with that light bulb spell in the train.”

Daring raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, right…” Velvet folded her ears. “You didn’t see it. I was in the dark and in the john when I cast that spell.”

Daring raised both eyebrows.

“Whatever, I’ll explain later.” After Velvet returned the bulb to her bag, she gestured her hoof at the mercenaries. “So what about the bodies?”

In response, Daring peered over the edge of the catwalk, then grabbed some grenades and the last magazines from the earth pony’s body. Now that it was picked clean, Daring grunted and slung the body over her shoulders, maneuvering it in a way to avoid the blood, before tossing it over the edge. Velvet cantered to where Daring dropped the corpse, catching a glimpse of it tearing a hole through the canvas and going quietly into the night.

“Don’t mind me,” Daring remarked. “Just taking out the trash.”





Just as predicted, the rest of the way to the port generator room had few mercs around, and Velvet and Daring were thankful to find only a team of five inside the generator room itself. In addition, Daring seemed to be in a similar position to Velvet—unable to use her new toy. The plan didn’t call for volume at this phase, and the AK rifle lacked a silencer. Playtime would have to proceed in some other way. It was a good thing Velvet had other instruments to keep her occupied.

A pair of magic mists levitated two alligator clips into Velvet’s line of sight. Sitting in front of a control panel, she squinted at the clips and scratched them across each other, her face brightening in sync with the light blue sparks that arced between them.

“Beautiful…” Velvet licked her lips, then glanced behind her. Daring climbed back up the ladder to the catwalk, having disposed of the last mercs. There was a little bit of blood streaked across the front and left shoulder of Daring’s shirt—probably from the last unlucky sap who laid eyes on her.

The radio dangling from Daring’s side crackled to life.

“Windshear-One-One, this is Bridge.” A familiar mare spoke. “What’s your status?”

Daring glanced at the radio, before looking back at Velvet, mouthing, “Well, shit.”

“Windshear-One-One, do you copy–”

Daring flicked a switch on the radio, cutting Bridge off. “Boring conversation anyway… Well, it would have been a boring conversation.” 

Not a second later, Velvet elbowed Daring in the calves.

“Agh! What’s the big idea?” Daring flared her wings and glowered at the sitting unicorn. 

“Sorry, but I can’t use my magic for this next bit.” Velvet offered up the alligator clips,  levitating them closer to Daring’s face. “You’ll have to do it for me.”

Daring folded her wings back down and crossed her arms. “You’ve got a pair of hooves. Use 'em.”

“Consider it a limited time offer.” Velvet smirked. “It’s not all the time I let someone other than Night Light turn me on…”

Daring glowered at Velvet for several seconds, sighed, and rolled her eyes. Without another word, she sat beside Velvet and took the alligator clips with her hooves, but then she frowned when she squeezed the clips open.

Velvet snickered at Daring’s confused look. “Weird, right? I had to loosen the springs.” Velvet tapped her horn with her hoof. “You gotta defang the alligators before you let them bite your appendages.”

Daring huffed, then clamped the clips onto Velvet’s horn—red one first, then the black one. “They still look fanged to me. Remind me again why we’re doing this?”

Velvet winced as the metal teeth dug into the thin skin on her horn. “Agh…you know teleportation drains me. Remember the train? I’d like to not go five or ten minutes without my magic when mercs are running around the halls. This…” Velvet pointed at the alligator clips on her horn. “…will give me just enough energy to have my soufflé and eat it too.”

“So… what, like a Red Minotaur drink, only magical? Do you do roadside service as well?”

Velvet stuck out her tongue as Daring tried to get the second clamp more firmly placed. “Only for my Night Light.”  

Once the clips were set in place, Daring stood up and leaned back on the railing. Velvet could see Daring’s eyes gravitate to a collection of blinking red lights hidden away near the turbines and support beams. “Bowing out so soon?” said Daring. “I thought you were going to detonate the charges.”

“Nah, just that one.” Velvet pointed at a gray brick tucked beside the door to the generator room, it too sporting a red blinking light. “I’m gonna couple my teleportation with that baby’s blasting cap. As for you…catch!”

A flick from Velvet’s hoof launched a dark green remote from the floor. Daring spun around just in time to catch the device with her wing.

“Parting gift from me. I’ve set the bombs to detonate one at a time with each press. It’ll keep the mercs off my tail longer. Just…try not to set off the last one unless you really need to. ‘Desperate times’ only.”

Daring inspected the device, then grinned. “Desperate times call for Explodey Boom Things? I can work with that.” She slid the device into her shirt pocket and began to walk away. Before she could disappear down the ladder, Velvet spoke up again, but the smile had disappeared from her face.

“You won’t hurt River Rapids, right?”

Daring hung her head, only the end of her muzzle visible beneath the brim of her helmet. “I’ll try, but… Shit happens.”

Velvet swallowed the lump in her throat before giving a shaky nod 

Before she could say any more, a burst of static from Velvet’s walkie-talkie. “Sierra Teams, be advised.” Velvet could hear the anxiety dripping from Bridge’s voice. “I’ve lost contact with Sierra Pectus-Four and Windshear-One-One. Anypony have a visual?”

“Bridge, this is Sierra-Pectus-Four-Three.” A stallion’s voice joined in. “We got blood on the catwalk over here.”

Velvet and Daring looked at each other.

“All patrols, converge on the port generator!” Bridge’s voice commanded. “We might have a situation!”

Velvet took a deep breath. “Oh, here we go…”

Daring got on her hind legs and drew her rifle. “This is it, Vel. Once you blow that door up, you’re on your own.” She paused, but didn’t look back. “Dying is against your course requirements.”

The pegasus took cover behind one of the girders on the ceiling, keeping her weapon trained at the door. Meanwhile, Velvet got on the floor and put her hooves to her head. Her brain buzzed and her horn took on a slight glow as she worked to convert more electrical energy into magical energy. Not too fast, though: that would be a one-way ticket to soft-boiled egghead.

Several murmurs and hoofsteps seeped through the walls and into Velvet’s ears. She squeezed her hooves and bit her lip, trying her best to suppress the churning fear bubbling from the back of her mind.

“Do I at least get extra credit?” Velvet’s ears folded as she faced Daring with a toothy grin.

Daring chuckled. “Not unless you know how to restart your own heartbeat.”

Velvet laughed, but the action lacked any of its normal mirth. Shit was about to go down. 

The door flew open; Velvet’s pupils shrank. Arcs of blue electricity danced across her horn, which pulsed a deep magenta while Daring lined up the sights of her rifle. The signal on the explosive charge changed from red to white.

Then light filled Velvet’s vision.





White gave way to black. Velvet grasped her head with her hooves and curled into a ball just as a booming rumble snaked its way across the floor and up her skin. After only a beat, Velvet bolted upright and vomited. Teleportation plus electric sparking plus a deluge of electric energy flowing into her horn plus the shockwave of her handiwork? Was this what it felt like to jump into the event horizon of a black hole?

Well, that, and the burrito was that traumatizing.

“Oww…fuck!” Velvet spit out the acrid taste in her mouth while her brain jackhammered just behind her horn. Velvet clenched her teeth and rubbed the base of her abused appendage. “Brilliant plan, Twilight…”

It didn’t take long for the alarms to start blaring and the emergency lights to start strobing. Velvet stayed on the floor for several more seconds, trying to catch her breath before rising up again on shaky legs. Her horn glowed cerise, and then took on a whiter, more luminous glare. Still have my magic, though. Velvet exhaled and smiled. I really am a genius! 

The flashlight spell revealed rows upon rows of metal tables and chairs, some of which were jostled out of place by the explosion. To the right was a counter topped with food displays; to her left, a door leading to the hall. She couldn’t teleport directly into the cargo hold or her cover would be blown too soon.

Just as Velvet started forward, the sound of hoofsteps and rattling gear leaked from the other side of the wall. Velvet scampered behind a nearby column, deactivated her flashlight spell, and held her breath. Don’t open the door. Don’t open the door. For Celestia’s sake, don’t open the door…

“Tango in the port generator room!” a voice called out.

“Take her out before she grounds us!”

“Delta-Six is down!”

“Light, take point! Hit her with the thunderhead grenades!”

The sound of distant gunfire and the occasional grenade drowned out the droning of the propellers. The mercs were taking the bait. Velvet didn’t realize that she’d curled up on the floor until after the mercs’ hoofsteps faded into the distance. Her breaths returned as she got up and peeked at the door. 

Celestia had answered her prayer.

No time to rest, though; the job wasn't done yet.

Velvet surveyed the room one last time with a weak flashlight spell. Making sure the coast was clear before she headed to the door, she noticed that her tail had snagged on something behind her. 

She whirled around. The something, it turned out, was a food cart. Not much to write home about…

…except this particular cart housed several rounded cylinders inside sealed plastic bags. It was these that made Velvet’s eyes shimmer and the corners of her mouth turn upwards.

Eclairs! Come to Mama, sweet children...

Her eyes darted left and right for a second, Daring’s words suddenly echoing in Velvet’s mind.  “We are not raiding the kitchen for eclairs!”

And yet…this wasn’t the kitchen per se—just the dining room.

Velvet grinned as she smacked her lips.





Pulsing red lights and blaring sirens all conspired to beat Velvet’s senses to the floor as she cantered through the dark halls. Behind her, gunfire continued to erupt from the generator room and echo down the halls. She breathed a relieved sigh. Better there than here!

After passing by a door to her left, she rounded a corner. At the far end of the corridor, a short set of stairs disappeared down another corner and into bright, billowing light. Velvet had to narrow her eyes to prevent the glare from searing her retinas. 

Her canter slowed to a creeping walk as she hugged the wall, her fur brushing against the paint and a nearby fire extinguisher. Peeking from the corner and crouching downwards, she could see the bottom margin of a brilliant blue corrugated metal box inside the room below. 

Velvet lay on her stomach to get a better view of the cargo hold. Light bulbs studded the ceiling, while two shipping containers—both parallel to the stairs—lay close to the loading bay doors at Velvet’s left. To her right, another container stood perpendicular to the others, the words “TRISTAR CONSTELLATION INCORPORATED” printed on its rusted red exterior.

Huh, not a guard in sight. Maybe the bulb wasn't necessary after all…

The entire ship rocked. A pounding boom reverberated through the walls. Metal groaned above Velvet as she hugged the corner and dug her hooves onto the linoleum floor. Her eyes and mouth squeezed themselves shut. She was never gonna get used to that. Maybe she should’ve packed in less C-4. If the gondola doesn’t hold, they were all royally screwed. 

“Hope the colts over there take care of that port generator situation.” A stallion’s voice echoing from the other side of the room caused Velvet’s eyes to shoot open. There was no perturbation in his inflection, not even a shaky breath at the end.

“You think it’s them?” a mare replied. She sounded nearer to Velvet than the stallion, but other than that, her voice might as well have been a gender-swapped version of the first pony. 

The stallion let out a half-scoff-half-chuckle as Velvet’s heart began to race. “You seriously don’t believe that Wave Rider fellow, right? Two ponies coming out on top against an entire platoon? It’s probably just sky pirates. We are carrying some pretty valuable cargo.”

“Sky pirates would hit us with triple-A from the outside, Tradewind.” Velvet sucked in a breath, then slowly peeked around the corner as the mare continued. “The port generator room is in the bowels of the airship. We’ve got a rat.”

Two ponies walked into view from the right: a dark purple earth pony in bluish-gray fatigues just by the stairs, and a feces-colored pegasus at the other side, near a second entrance. After scratching the bulky goggles on her forehead, Dark Purple faced Shit Stain Tradewind just as she was waved off. “Paranoid as always, eh? You know Wave Rider likes to tell stories. Now keep your eyes on the entrance… If there is a rat, we’ll find 'em.”

Dark Purple kept her eyes on her partner and snorted. Meanwhile, Velvet’s eyes were directed to something else: a ring sticking out from a pouch on Dark Purple’s vest, the words “M28 SMOKE” partly visible on a cylinder inside. Where Velvet’s mind was going, though, she didn’t need the ring or the spoon. Direct detonation was where it was at. 

Her horn took on a cerise glow as she focused on the pouch’s velcro flap. Show yourself, my little baby…

In a single motion, the grenade ripped out of the pouch and bounced on the floor. Dark Purple winced. 

“Shit! Hit the deck!”

Light gray smoke swirled around the landing near the stairs. Velvet stood up, looked behind her, then plucked the fire extinguisher from the wall with her magic. Velvet’s hooves tingled when they made contact with the extinguisher. A strange choice of weapon—Velvet made a mental note to ask Daring to teach her how to shoot—but it would have to do.

Dark Purple’s silhouette darted its head around. “Close contact!” she spat out, her voice audibly trying to maintain its composure. “Deploy thermals!”

“Roger that. Following your lead.” A third voice, a stallion, replied from the left. Dark Purple slid a pair of goggles onto her eyes, drew her shotgun, and stood up on her hind legs. Velvet shrank away from the corner, her heart pounding in sync with her breathing. Hopefully, those “thermals” didn’t do what she thought they did.

Dark Purple jerked her head left, the glimmering blue lenses of her goggles almost bug-like as the mare zeroed in on her position. “Whiskey Squad, on me! Tango spotted!”

Velvet zipped into cover. Pellets pinged off the nearby walls. The shotgun poured out rapid, but focused, shots. Velvet shielded her face from the debris and shrapnel flying around. 

The shooting stopped. The stairs clanged repeatedly as hooves charged upwards, closer and closer to her position. The voice Velvet assigned to Dark Purple sounded out, her shadow apparent on the far wall as the pony lowered her gun and started digging into one of her pouches. “Flashbang out!”

Velvet leaped out of the corner and shouted the adrenaline out her lungs. She swung the fire extinguisher sideways and into Dark Purple’s temple, a resonating thwack ringing out. The stun grenade flew from Dark Purple’s hooves as she reeled back, falling face-up and backwards down the stairs. Velvet transferred the fire extinguisher into her magic and sent it hurtling like a projectile right into the downed pony’s face. 

Glass cracked. Her goggles perforated her face.

“AAAGH!! SHIT!”

Dark Purple’s scream barely registered in Velvet’s mind. What did register, on the other hoof, was a new batch of gunshots coming from her left. “Laying down suppressive fire!” The third voice called out. “Nightshade, move in and pull her ass back!”

Velvet looked down, her vision narrowing around the edges and at Dark Purple’s dropped gear. Pulsing with adrenaline, her trembling forelegs snatched the stun grenade, barely keeping it in her hooves as tracers zipped through the smoke cloud in front of her.

Okay, okay, just as Daring taught me. Velvet cupped the black pipe-shaped grenade with her hooves, placing the left one on the ring. Twist...pull...and release!

On the last word, Velvet lobbed the grenade to the left of the smoke cloud, where the third merc’s muzzle flash strobed. The spoon flung away, disappearing into the cloud as Velvet retreated back up the stairs and hit the deck, covering her ears with her hooves.

Blinding white flashed in the room. A boom hammered into Velvet’s eardrums. There was an undertone of tinnitus, but Velvet pushed that aside. The firing had stopped, replaced by the third voice’s anguished groaning. Velvet swallowed the bile trying to form at the back of her throat. 

Velvet’s hooves felt light and numb as she leaped down the stairs and into the smoke. Taking a left, she raised the extinguisher with her telekinesis, extended it out to the side, and galloped past the third mercenary. One hoof clutched his machine gun; the other, his eyes. He was in Velvet’s left field of view for only a second.

A wet crack—the clothesline extinguished its target.

“She’s breaking out of cover,” a fourth voice—probably Nightshade’s—called from behind, causing Velvet to look behind her.

“Another one?!” Velvet turned a right corner just as rifle fire zipped behind her. Something hot and hard punched through her tail, causing Velvet’s face to boil. “Oh, for fuck's sake! I know everypony likes a hot piece of tail, but come on!”

Tradewinds popped out of the corner of a shipping container. He raised his rifle, hoof on the trigger. 

But Velvet’s horn was quicker.

Velvet’s magic squeezed the lever on her fire extinguisher. White, suffocating clouds engulfed Tradewinds, his coughs barely audible over the spray. 

It wasn’t long before he met the same fate as Dark Purple. 

After smacking Tradewinds out of commission, Velvet turned right again and stopped under a light bulb. Her telekinesis transferred from the fire extinguisher to the light bulb above her, allowing her dependable weapon to stop, drop, and roll on the floor. As the bulb flickered and fell from its socket, Velvet couldn’t help but grin like a mad-mare. 

“All this messed-up crap just to change a light bulb!” An artery in Velvet’s temple nearly burst. “Is this the setup of some cruel joke of yours, Celestia? I guess we can chalk this up to another bright idea?”

Sparks sprinkled onto Velvet once the bulb broke free. The bulb flickered, then darkened. Velvet pranced in place and scoped her surroundings, the sweat dripping from her temples and legs. No one was around, save for the still writhing Tradewinds. 

No reason to rest, though.

She yanked the saddlebags off her back with her magic, then plucked her own light bulb out. The magenta magic inside churned and sloshed, like a pet seeing its master. Still alive, thank Celestia! Velvet’s eyes twinkled as she carried both bulbs in her magic. "Now go fulfill your destiny!"

Bluish arcs jumped from the socket to the One Bulb to Rule Them All just as its electrical foot contact entered the socket. Cerise clouds on Velvet’s horn swirled in concert with the ones on the bulb. She squinted. She was close. 

“Aaaaaaand…done! Now I gotta–”

A maroon flash flooded the side of her vision. Velvet jerked her head right. That light didn’t come from her horn.

Velvet’s eyes reflected off Nightshade’s goggles.

"Motherfu—"

A bolt from Nightshade’s horn launched Velvet backward. Her back slammed into a container, denting it and sending a gong bouncing around the room. Velvet groaned, streaks of Nightshade’s magic still snaking through her body. Before Velvet could even so much as cough, Nightshade lit her horn again, a firestorm surging in her eyes and deep, almost exhausted ragged breaths escaping her mouth.

Nothing came out.

Nightshade looked up and frowned. Her horn flickered, but that was it. 

Velvet grinned and lit her own horn in response. Hah, she’s firing blanks! Somepony forgot to stock up on Red Minotaur!

Azure electricity twisted into Nightshade’s body. She fell on her knees, the empty submachine gun she tried to magically reload falling to the ground. As her screams bounced around the containers, Velvet canceled her electric magic and surveyed the light bulbs above her. The magenta light from the One Bulb pulsated faster and stronger. Cerise wisps arced from the socket, through the wires on the ceiling, and into the One Bulb’s neighbors. They too began to strobe magenta. 

“See you later, Night…uh…whatever your name is!”

Taking her saddlebags with her magic, Velvet galloped to the second entrance—the one Tradewinds had been guarding just a minute ago. She had only made it two-thirds of the way when cerise light billowed from behind, mingled with the cacophony of shattering glass. Hooves still light from adrenaline, she quickened her pace and glanced behind.

The One Bulb had shattered. In its place, a cloud of cerise magic, with the occasional arc of electricity, began to spread through the room. One by one, the other bulbs followed suit, the cloud growing outwardly with each broken bulb.

When Velvet reached the safety of the airship’s corridors, she peeked through the corner. Through a space between two containers, she could see Nightshade attempt to stand. Deep breaths gave way to coughs. Her legs trembled as more of the cerise cloud swirled around her and entered her airways. Her face contorted into a mixture of anguish and fury as she glared back at the retreating Velvet with seething hate.

She slumped onto the floor and closed her eyes.

Velvet’s chest tensed for a few seconds, then relaxed, releasing the longest breath she had ever held. Every other muscle seemed to relax as well, though the adrenaline high, not to mention the muscle aches, were still around. Bask in it, Twilight. Bask in it…

She’d have to wait for another minute to allow the knockout gas to decompose. It should be enough to keep the mercs out of commission for an hour—at least, according to on-the-spot calculations. Maybe it would be prudent to lock the mercs inside one of the containers before searching for the artifact...just to be sure.

Velvet sat on the floor and allowed her saddlebags to fall from her magic, retaining only a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters. Her magic extended the foldable handles, her mouth uttering clicking sounds in an admittedly pathetic attempt at mimicking a reloading gun. “Note to self,” muttered Velvet, “ask Daring to teach me how to shoot. It’s not fair for her to wield the only penetrator in this relationship."

She peeped through the corner again. The cloud had nearly dispersed.

Her legs shook slightly as she got up, cracked her neck, and raised the bolt cutters to eye level. 

“Time to get to work.”
> Chapter 14: Cat and Mouse
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three down, but things were getting nowhere.

Levitating the fire extinguisher, Velvet trudged out from a shipping container and huffed, kicking the door closed behind her. Though the slam shook the floor beneath her hooves, it didn’t shake the grimace off her face as she rubbed her forehead. “Feels like I’m in a barrel and floating down a waterfall.”

The walkie-talkie crackled to life. Velvet turned her head and opened the flap of her saddlebags, a wrecked padlock on the floor briefly crossing her vision. Her magic levitated the radio to ear level as she trotted towards the fourth container. 

“Twilight! Twilight!” Daring panted out under the ambient sound of gunfire. “Watch your back! One of the mercs knows you’re there!”

“What?! Can you get her off my tail?”

Three gunshots, then one small explosion, rang out from the radio as Velvet made her way to the next container. “I’m doing my damnedest to link up with you, but the guys over here are just lining up for autographs!”

Velvet stomped a hoof down in frustration. “Well, can’t you do something?!”

Several more shots crackled from the speaker. “...I could...uh...I could pull the trigger on this last bomb of yours—send them a message they won’t forget?”

For the first time since fighting Nightshade and her goons, Velvet’s heart raced. “Are you crazy?! That brick of C-4 is planted in the main turbine!”

“I know!”

Velvet blinked in astonishment, her hooves trembling as they took the bolt cutter from a saddlebag and made short work of the next container’s padlock. “If  you set that off, there’ll be no way to power the weather modulator—and it’s typhoon season out here in the Luna Oceans! This ship better damn-well float!”

Daring still found it in herself to scoff despite the gunfire zipping past her. “Do you want that cow off your tail or not? ‘Desperate times,’ right?” 

Velvet furrowed her eyebrows, both at Daring’s statement and at the container door now enshrined in her magic. “‘Cow?’ What does that mean?”

Gunshots roared from behind; grit and shrapnel splattered on Velvet’s face. She dove to the side of the container, folding her ears down as four new holes were left in her wake. Flattening herself down and spinning around to face her new attacker, Velvet fought to steady her breathing. 

“Talk to you later, Do Dare!” Velvet yelled under fire. “Be sure to leave a message at the sound of ‘F.’”

Bullets ricocheted off the container, a few fragments stinging off her hide as Velvet put the radio away. Her eyes bulged as the sound of F crescendoed until it finally erupted from her chest and out her mouth.

“FUCK!”

Scrambling to her hooves, Velvet scurried down to the far side of the container, then veered around the corner. Adrenaline surged through the veins in her forehead and itching, sweating legs. Wiping her brow, she noticed her horn had stopped glowing. The bolt cutters and fire extinguisher were nowhere in sight. 

Must’ve canceled the telekinesis when I got startled. 

The words that came out of her mouth were much more concise.

“DOUBLE FUCK!!”

After racing through a single breath, Velvet peeked out the edge of the container. Her eyes were already wide, but they swelled to the size of hubcaps when the mysterious shooter came into view.

A grayish-brown, two-horned figure charged forward, rifle on her hip.

“River Rapids??” Velvet gasped. “Let’s talk! We don’t need to do this!”

Rapids replied with rifle rounds. Velvet yanked her head into cover, the zip of high-caliber bullets shaking the air and rumbling into her facial bones.

“TRIPLE FUCK!!!”

River Rapids’ heavy hooffalls rapidly drew closer. Velvet turned and sprinted for the next container, rounding the corner and softening the sounds of her pounding hooves.

“LESS TALKING!” Rapids’ bellow bounced around the cargo hold. It threatened to force Velvet down to a fetal position. “More fighting!”

Making it to the end of the section, Velvet kicked the broken padlock away as she hid behind the corner of the container she had exited only a minute before.  She fought to get her heaving chest to relax so she could hear Rapids’ heavy, cloven hooves better. The bison’s steps slowed to a walk. What was she planning?

Velvet’s head drifted downwards, and she mentally slapped herself in the face. Why was it that only now that she noticed the hoof prints she was leaving in the residue on the smooth floor. Why did knock-out gas have to leave a residue?! Just about the only consolation was that the residue was inert.

Her heart skipped as she picked up the unmistakable sound of hoof steps. Rapids was trying to be stealthy, bless her buffalo heart. “Enough sneaking around,  little pony!” Rapids snarled. “Don’t you want our party to start off with a bang?” 

Velvet eyed at Rapids’ shadow as it slid into view. The merc was in front of the container door—normally a red flag, but this time, positioned perfectly for a counterattack.

“Great idea!”

The container door flew open. A gong, followed by a groan, resounded through the cargo hold. 

Velvet came out, surveying the scene to find Rapids clutching her cranium with her cloven hooves. Her body was sprawled on the floor, the rifle under her weight. Her red cap, along with her headset, lay a few meters away. “Rapids, come in!” Fuze’s voice crackled from the headset. “Where the hell did you run off to this time?! The CO is–”

The buzz in Velvet’s mind caused Fuze’s words to enter one ear and out the other. Sprinting past, Velvet crushed the headset underhoof. It wasn’t long before she reached the container from before—the one she was about to breach prior to Rapids’ interruption. “All right, uh” —Velvet fidgeted— “behind Door Number Four!”

Taking the extinguisher with her magic, Velvet scampered into the container and slammed the door behind her. Okay…okay…Rapids heard that. Her hooves drifted up to her mane as a flashlight spell surged up her horn. 

Velvet’s eyes panned the scene, and her brow furrowed as more sweat streamed down her legs. There were boxes upon boxes, yes, but already she was sure she hadn’t struck gold. It wasn’t so much the fact that the boxes were labeled things like “RATIONS” and “MEAL, READY-TO-EAT,” while a crate of plastic cola bottles lay on the floor. It was more the lack of a leather bag; she could still remember how it felt from her long-range sensory spell.

“Damn it!”

A growl from outside diffused into the container. Velvet jumped. She was gonna bust through those doors any minute! She had to cook something up—

Her eyes drifted to a cardboard box for MREs

“Cook something up…”

Velvet’s telekinesis tore through the box like the glorified paper it was. An unlucky MRE packet, meanwhile, was no match for Velvet’s teeth. It didn’t matter if the MREs contained daffodil rolls or, Celestia forbid, quesadillas. Her eyes were set on finding something else.

“There! The heating brick!”

She tore the heating brick out of its packet and set it aside, brushing the dust off her face. Next, her telekinesis plucked a cola bottle from the crate and screwed it open.

“Don’t think I don’t know where you are!” Rapids' bellow vibrated through the container walls before she broke into a menacing laugh. “Stupid pony—that is a dead end!” Heavy hoofsteps clanged closer to the door. 

Not much time. Let’s…uh…let’s try exciting the cations a notch…

Velvet’s eyes narrowed as her telekinesis crushed the heating brick, then funneled the particles into the bottle. She held her breath, both in order to avoid inhaling the powder and in an attempt to control her surging adrenaline. 

There we go! 

The cola began to glow a deep blue; azure sparks danced inside. The plastic of the bottle was beginning to swell, and not a moment too soon. Velvet cupped the bottle with her hooves while lifting the cutter and extinguisher with her magic. She puffed out a breath.

The door opened, light spilling past the silhouette of Rapids and her rifle. 

“Remember! Sharing is caring!” 

The bottle bounced in front of Rapids’ hooves, still swelling. Only the label popped off.

“That’s it?” Rapids looked up from the bottle, raising an eyebrow.

Shrugging, Velvet gave a sheepish smile. “Said I only wanted to talk.” 

The bottle disappeared. Rapids yelled.

The shockwave fluttered Velvet’s mane as she shot her foreleg up to cover her face. She galloped towards the now-smoking exit. Rapids was doubled over, yes, but her front hooves were still on her weapon, and her bipedal stance loomed over the Canterlot unicorn.

She wasn't going to stay that way for long.

A white cloud erupted from the extinguisher. Two, maybe three short bursts—Velvet didn’t want to asphyxiate Rapids. All she needed was time.

Rapids was crumpled onto the floor, her coughs mixed with shivering. Velvet’s mouth hung open as her ears folded back. 

“Sorry!” 

Velvet’s mind seemed to enter a sort of lightheaded autopilot: run to the next container, cut the bolt, throw the door open wide and survey the treasures therein. Her hooves felt light, despite the heavy pounding of her heart. 

Horseshoes, balloons, streamers, confetti… “What are they transporting!? Supplies for a cute-ceañera?” Container after container was filled with festivity-themed boxes that made Velvet’s heart move further and further into her throat. Sweat poured down her face as she jumped at every shadow. Finally, she found a container upon its side, bits of wrapping paper protruding from the opening.

 “It’s in the last container.” Velvet rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s in the last container. Knowing my luck, it won’t even be there. It’s probably in the back of the fridge in some kitchen, right next to the cheese, ugh.”

Hoofsteps caused Velvet’s ears to twitch. Her magic reflexively canceled, dropping the extinguisher, the bolt cutters, and flashlight spell. Rapids’ now-familiar stomps were not subtle in the slightest. “Clever filly…but two can play that game!”

“Crap!” Velvet muttered. “Boss level fight resumes.” Her horn glowed a bright magenta as it reactivated her spells. She and the nozzle of her extinguisher gazed down at the door. She’d be ready this time.

A wedge of light entered the room with a drawn-out creak. Her magic clamped down on the extinguisher’s lever. Any second now…

Any second…

Velvet blinked, scratching her hooves, then lowered the extinguisher and cocked her head to the side. “What is she—”

Something round bounced off the door, rolling to a stop between Velvet’s hooves. Her eyes widened at the grenade.

A non-electric charge flew down Velvet’s spine. Surging forward, she zipped of out the container and kicked the left door wide. At least this time she had the presence of mind to keep her magic from deactivating itself before making her escape.

If only she had the presence of mind to look both ways.

The wind, along with a scream, tore itself from Velvet’s lungs. Something catapulted her into the side of the container to her left. Gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come, she slid down the side as her weapons clattered to the floor, her magic extinguished. The sound of her body’s impact echoed in the hold. Velvet squeezed her eyes shut. Did the grenade just catch her?

A boom from behind, two seconds late, answered that question. 

The question was further answered and underlined with bold italics with the heavy impact of  Rapids’ hind hoof. 

Velvet whimpered as she clutched her throbbing shoulder, the pain shooting from her shoulder blade clean through her hoof. She opened her watering eyes to the sight of the dark muzzle of Rapids’ rifle, set against the backdrop of the buffalo’s harsh scowl. The buffalo spat some leftover extinguisher powder, then straightened her sights.

“Eat lead.”

The entire airship rocked. A distant rumble, followed by the shearing and grinding of metal, shook the floor, throwing Rapids off balance.

Thank you, Daring, Queen of Convenient Distractions!

In one swift motion, Velvet grabbed the extinguisher with her magic and launched it into the side of Rapids’ head.

Grimacing, Velvet pulled herself to her hooves, frowning at the pattern forming in her mind. This was what, the third head injury Rapids had sustained? But all she ever did was stay down for a few seconds. What did she need to do, drop a boxcar on her head? Or a boat? Maybe a whole city? 

Velvet glanced at Rapids’ rifle. Not the most graceful solution, but she was never one to care for airs and graces.

With a grin, Velvet extracted a tube of mayonnaise leftover from the earlier MREs. With more fun than the situation should have allowed, she pulled back the rifle lever—as she’d seen Daring Do do when cleaning—and instead, proceeded to do something that would make Daring scream in rage. With a dash of magic to shoot up the viscosity and stickiness of the mayo, the rifle port was soon dripping with sandwich grease. Velvet tugged the charging handle two times with her magic. When it didn’t budge, she began trotting off with a smile.

Rapids twitched before she grunted and began to stir. She pulled her forehooves under her until she could ease herself onto her side, gazing at Velvet with a level stare. As Velvet stared back, something struck her as just a little bit off. Maybe it was instinct, or the fact that something seemed to be smoldering behind the buffalo’s gaze. Or maybe it was because her right hoof was behind her back and out of view. 

Velvet slid back just a bit, feeling like her personal bubble needed a little more room. “Now Rapids, if you would just let me…” 

“NO!”

Velvet yelped and scooted back. Metal clanged against metal just between her legs. Velvet’s eyes traced the machete’s blade up to Rapids’ right hoof and to the fire now blazing in her eyes. Too close...way too close.

Velvet rolled onto her legs and sprang up just as Rapids yanked the machete off the metal floor and reassumed her bipedal stance. Both stared into each others’ eyes, but the fire in Rapids’ eyes, not to mention her build, pierced Velvet’s gaze and caused her forelegs to sink into the floor. 

“River Rapids please,” panted out Velvet. “If you would just–”

“SHUT UP!”

Rapids lunged forward, bringing her machete down with a diagonal swipe. Velvet veered left, the blade whispering death as it came close to an ear.

“Dammit!” Velvet backpedalled, trying to catch her breath. “I know Thunderhooves. He said that—”

“STOP TOYING WITH ME!”

Velvet dodged yet another slash. Rapids wasn’t taking any calls at the moment. Wincing and focusing her magic into a blunt cone, Velvet pushed forward with a telekinetic shove. Rapids staggered back, a hoof slipping on some mislaid mayo, the machete spinning away from her hoof.

Velvet spun around and galloped to the door of the last container. Her head felt light, her hooves felt heavy, and the padlock slipped from her magic a couple of times. That maneuver of hers bought her maybe four seconds tops, and her magic was beginning to run dry. Okay, okay, new plan! Velvet wiped some sweat from her brow as she clamped the bolt cutters onto the padlock. Just gotta get the artifact first and then…

Both container doors flew open. A flashlight spell, plus the red glow of emergency lights, flooded the interior. Like the previous containers, the contents lay scattered on the floor, knocked over by Velvet’s earlier explosives. Unlike the previous containers, the contents of this container were mostly plastic military hardcases. All these, however, were pushed aside from Velvet’s attention by a small, faint glimmer on the floor. 

Velvet’s irises converged on the source: a lumpy leather bag with dim, pulsing yellow light leaking out of the gaps on its zipper.

Rapids’ unmistakable hoofsteps, however, shook Velvet out of her discovery. She tapped her horn, and it sputtered in response. Time for the new plan. Hopefully, it wouldn't blow up in her face.

Keeping her hooves light to avoid too much noise, Velvet scurried out of the container. Rapids wasn’t at the door yet, but Velvet had to act fast or New Plan would crumble in front of her face. As she hugged the container’s corrugated wall and closed the doors with her magic, Rapids’ hoofsteps and snorts reverberated from the other side, shaking Velvet’s core. The buffalo was at the door now, and though Velvet couldn’t see her, she could hear her heavy hooves tapping the doors a few times.

The doors flew open. Rapids stomped inside. “COME OUT!”

Velvet obliged. Rapids spun around at the sight of Velvet’s shadow just as the unicorn huffed out a half-frustrated “How’s it feel to be on the other end of the stick? Comes as a shock, huh?”

Brilliant blue light flooded the container. Velvet’s horn poured out the last of its reserves into an electrical spell on Rapids’ body. The mercenary’s hooves spasmed, her body fell to the floor, and her machete disappeared under the mess of hardcases and radios kicked up by her convulsing body. Velvet meanwhile, grit her teeth and averted her eyes. The current wasn’t strong enough to kill Rapids—not with the amount of magic she had left—but this wasn’t a torture session either.

Another pulse of magic canceled the bluish arcs. Rapids moaned and writhed on the floor, and Velvet’s nose wrinkled at the lingering smoke and smell of singed fur. She pushed that observation to the side, however. “Right, right.” Velvet hopped onto the pile of hardcases and started digging around like a Mustangian. “Gotta look for the glowing thing. Just like in Treasure Hooves III!”

In the relative dimness of the container, Indra’s Bow wasn’t hard to find, even if Velvet had to toss a few hardcases to the side to retrieve it. No sooner had she pocketed the artifact, though, when some crumpled maps beside her shifted, then snorted. A dark shape rose from the pile. No words escaped from Velvet’s mouth, and though the adrenaline tensed her aching, protesting legs, the high had passed several minutes ago.

“COME HERE, YOU BITCH!”

Velvet leaped out of the mess on the container floor—the last hurrah of her adrenaline rush. What followed next wasn’t exactly a sprint so much as a limping canter. Sweat dripped from her fur, her horn felt like it was about to cave into her forehead, and every muscle screamed for rest. The exit of the cargo hold was in view, despite her darkening vision. Just a couple more...

Rapids didn’t need toys. One hardened buffalo cranium made its mark on Velvet’s thigh. Velvet was airborne for less than a second. Her body dented the wall, shooting a resounding gong through her shoulder, up her ears, and out her eyes.





As Rapids’ blurred form trudged towards her target, Velvet's horned sputtered. Something…anything…to get her out of-

Another blow. The spell fizzled out. Velvet’s legs fell limp, but she clung to consciousness even as Rapids mounted onto her.

“Rapids…please…sto…ack…”

The last word trailed off into a gag when Rapids wrapped her cloven hooves around Velvet’s neck. Velvet tried to raise her arms to pry Rapids’ hooves off—fat chance of that—but all she could muster was pawing the ground. Velvet’s head was forced to the floor, and her increasingly fuzzy vision dimmed as her eyelids began to close.

Then the golden angel arrived.

But she didn’t seem quick to the trigger this time.

It was hard to see—Daring was just a yellow blob standing in the distance—but it was obvious Daring was aiming down her rifle’s sights.  However, instead of opening fire, the pegasus kept hesitating—raising the rifle to take aim and then lowering it again, shaking her blurry head. 

“CELESTIA DAMN IT!”

Daring’s roar snapped Rapids’ eyes and hooves away from her target. Velvet gasped. Sweet oxygen swirled back into her lungs as color returned to her face. 

Recognizing the danger, Rapids rolled back. Daring swooped in, wings sprawled, swinging for the fences and connected. 

A loud crack sounded at the impact, the buttstock disengaging from the barrel and chamber as Rapids yelled in pain, rolling off in a heap. Without the weight of the buffalo holding her down, Velvet pulled herself up with a groan, hacking and wheezing, her head throbbing as if it would burst. Looking to the side, Velvet watched as Daring and Rapids rolled down the cargo hold. In a few moments it was over: Daring the victor. 

Limping closer, Velvet rubbed her face as she watched Daring dismount and then hogtie the buffalo’s hooves together with her bullwhip. Daring’s eyebrows creased as she focused, the air around the whip shimmering and swirling alongside her passive pegasus magic before the wrapped cord tightened itself around Rapids’ limbs. 

“Do Dare?!” Velvet huffed out. “What are—”

“We don’t have much time here, kid!” Daring growled. “Her fellow mercs are on their way here! This is your one chance to talk!”

Velvet sucked in a breath, then steadily approached Rapids, still limping while rubbing her reddened neck. Rapids stopped squirming in her restraints as she watched Velvet approach, her frown slowly morphing into a sneer. Velvet only lifted an eyebrow in response. 

“You heard your friend. You don’t have much time.” Rapids chuckled. “Do it. Death is preferable to the shameful hell that is life."

Velvet glanced at the floor and swallowed a lump in her throat. Was Rapids really so prepared to die? Perhaps this was the segue she needed.

“Nothing to say to Thunderhooves, right?” Velvet crouched in front of Rapids.

The crooked smile began to fade from Rapids’ face. “How do you know Thunderhooves?” 

“It’s...a long story.” Velvet tried to hide her sigh of relief. “I can tell you this, though: he misses you terribly.”

“Feh.” Rapids averted her gaze to the side. “Of course he does. But he’s probably the only one. I’m just the local troublemaker there, and now that Thunderhooves is the chief, it is only a matter of time before his position sweeps him up. He will probably forget all about me.”

Velvet shook her head. “Not true!” Velvet lowered her voice. “Thunderhooves still cares about you, and so many wish you would return... Give them a chance.”

At the last few words, Velvet blinked and glanced aside, Daring’s pep talk from the night before echoing through her head. She then turned her view to Daring, the pegasus’s scowl softening to a more pensive visage.

Rapids heaved a sigh before turning her head to make eye contact again. “Thunderhooves would say to thank you for your kindness…” She pursed her lips and hung her head. “But I cannot go back. I have walked this trail too long now.”

A burst of static erupted from Daring’s radio, a few indecipherable voices filtering through. “Velvet,” Daring said as she loosened her whip, “Time to fly.”

Velvet nodded to her before looking back  squarely at Rapids’ eyes. She placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder.

“It’s not too late to turn your life around. Maybe you could ask your higher-ups for a leave of absence? Give yourself a chance to see how the folks in your village really feel, rather than just speculating.”

  Rapids opened her mouth to speak, but the words stopped themselves before they could be uttered. She put her now free hoof to her forehead, breathing out a long sigh. What was on her mind, Velvet couldn’t say. 

The sound of hoofsteps emanated from one of the entrances, causing Velvet and Daring’s ears to twitch. “Wish I could stick around,” Velvet muttered under her breath as she started to back away. 

Slipping her whip into its holster, Daring gestured to the other entrance and gave Velvet a poignant look. “Now, Velvet.”

Velvet took one uneasy step towards Daring’s direction, then looked back at Rapids. The buffalo remained lying on the floor rubbing her likely broken foreleg, visibly lost in thought. Velvet still had one parting gift for her, though, and put a hoof on the mercenary’s shoulder.

“I hope you do the right thing, kid.”





At Broom Closet HQ, Velvet unbuckled the saddlebags from her waist, allowing them to slide off and spill their contents on the floor. They rattled from the new vibration humming through the airship—an aftertaste from the prior “desperate measures.” The first piece of Indra’s Bow came to a rest by her right hoof, but not even its eerie glow attracted Velvet’s eyes. They were centered on an even more important treasure—now unfortunately lost forever.

“My babies didn’t make it.” Velvet sniffled a bit as she frowned at the plastic bag housing her now-smushed eclairs, complete with a cherry-sized bullet fragment on top.

“Oh, you poor, pampered unicorn. Night Light will be happy to see you on a diet.” Daring rolled her eyes as she stretched her legs and curled up near the window. A gust of wind blew their manes when Velvet opened the window, tossing the plastic bag off the edge.

“Pfff… They were probably cream cheese eclairs anyway.” Velvet shuddered and stuck her tongue out. “Seriously, screw those pretentious posers. Traitors to good taste.”

A thick silence shrouded the room. Despite Velvet’s attempt at levity, both ponies’ minds lingered on the events of their raid. Velvet knew she couldn’t keep pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind forever, and judging by the lack of amused chuckles at Daring’s end, neither could her mentor. For a few minutes, nothing filled the cabin save for the rough vibration of the deck and a swooping sensation as the ship veered to the side every so often.

“So…” Daring filled the silence, sharpening her trowel after cleaning the blood off. “Is adventuring all it’s cracked up to be?”

Velvet cracked a half-hearted smile that failed to make its way up to her eyes. “Thought you didn’t like me being the mopey housewife…”

Daring sat up, sending the bloodied paper towel to follow the doomed eclairs. “Something else the matter?”

“I told Rapids her tribe would forgive her, but can I really say the same for myself? I mean…” 

Daring put her whetstone away before holstering her trowel, looking squarely at her protegee. “Velvet, we’ve been over this—”

“I know, I know.” Velvet waved a hoof at herself. “We don’t need an instant replay of that dialogue two nights ago. It’s just…”

Velvet’s stomach twisted itself. She wasn’t usually at a loss for words. 

“Guess you have a lot more in common with that bison than just a thirst for action,” Daring offered.

“Brilliant deduction, Shadow Spade.” Velvet chuckled, then sighed. “But yeah, makes me wonder if I really got through to Rapids. For all we know, she’ll reject my advice. She sure wasn’t ready to listen earlier.”

Daring placed her helmet on a nearby shelf. “Chin up. You kept your promise to Thunderhooves. That should count for something.” 

“I suppose… Thanks.” Velvet’s ears perked forward with interest.  “But enough about me…”

Velvet’s tone of voice caused Daring to raise her eyebrows, pausing in the motion of unbuttoning her shirt.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account…”

Daring smirked. “You’re not asking for a third, are you, Vel? Have we been hanging out for too long?”

Velvet chuckled into her hoof.  “Nah, if I really wanted a third, I would’ve chosen somepony whose fur didn’t look like a hospital sample.”

“Hah! You’re missing out,” Daring said as she slipped her shirt off and revealed her toned physique for all the world to see. 

“I saw what you did though, or well, what you could have done.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Daring turned to look at Velvet in concern. “What do you mean?” 

“You could’ve shot Rapids. It would have been a hell of a lot easier for you.”

Daring blinked for a moment before pursing her lips.  “Look, granting your request was the least I could do.”

Velvet shook her head, her eyes gravitating to the journal of Daring’s uncle, sitting on the shelf next to Daring. “Was it? I think there’s more to it than that.” Daring’s eyes followed hers to regard the journal. “You saw something in her, didn’t you?”

Daring stammered, then waved a hoof. “I…it was on the spur of the moment, okay? I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned and started re-coiling her whip.

Velvet leaned forward, rebalancing as the airship jostled in the sky for a moment. “Look, I might not have all the details, but it doesn’t look like adventuring is all it’s cracked up to be for you either.” The seconds stretched out for several more moments. Velvet couldn’t read her face, as her back was turned away. “What the hell happened in Abyssinia?” Velvet pushed further. “Your uncle’s journal mentioned—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Daring pounded the butt of her whip against the cabin wall before slipping it into her harness.  She sat down and gave Velvet a glare.

“Okay, okay…” Velvet waved her forelegs, motioning Daring to stay on the floor. “Some other time, then—maybe when we’re comfortable sharing a bed.”

Daring’s frown morphed into a smirk before she finally snickered and nodded in response. “That’s better.”

As Daring gathered a bundle of merc clothes into a makeshift mattress, Velvet took her journal from one of the shelves and placed it on the box-table. “So…do you think they’ll find us before we land?”

Daring squinted and put a hoof to her chin. “We’ll relocate our hiding place in five minutes.  Maybe if I release one of their emergency planes this afternoon, they’ll think we abandoned ship. Anyway, at the rate we’re going, we won’t make landfall until sundown. We’ll have to cook up a plan to sneak out, then we’ll head for the jungles. Most of the Neighponese bunkers in that area of the Fillyppines are interconnected. Should make finding the next Indra’s Bow piece a bit easier,” Daring concluded by cracking her neck and resting her head on her makeshift mattress. 

Velvet copied her actions and laid down next to her, muttering under her breath. “Nothing about this has been easy yet…and seriously? Five minutes? The mercs are probably sweeping the entire ship for our heads as we speak!” 

Daring stuck her tongue out. “Don’t worry your little Canterlot horn-head about it. Just…lemme get some rest, for Celestia’s sake. You didn’t have to fight through an entire squadron.”

Daring might have been ready to rest, but Velvet’s brain was still processing in a blur. She brought up her journal and a quill, and set to work. There was a four to five hour raid to debrief and record! 

Regardless, she didn’t get far.

She had barely gotten to the part about Grigory and his earth pony squadmate when a yellow glow pulsed at the corner of her eye. She hadn’t given the glow much thought back then, but without the distraction of a rampaging buffalo, Velvet couldn’t help but notice that the first piece of Indra’s Bow seemed brighter than before—just enough to be distinct from the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window.

“I don’t recall Indra’s Bow glowing like that for so long,” Velvet murmured, raising an eyebrow. Daring’s ears angled back towards her. “Anything in your notes about that?”

Daring cracked open an eye, studying the device for a moment before quickly sitting up from her lounging posture. “Um–”

A soft howl caused both ponies’ fur to stand on end, a chill spreading throughout the room. Daring sat up and looked out the window, blocking most of Velvet’s view as she tried to peek past her shoulder. Through a small gap to Daring’s left, a grayish white streak glimmered across the otherwise clear sky.

As quickly as the chill appeared, it dispersed. 

“What…was that?” Velvet’s voice quaked slightly. Her hooves slowly closed her journal, and she could feel her hind legs reflexively coiling themselves, preparing for action despite the fatigue snaking through her muscles.

“Nothing? Probably nothing?” Daring sighed. “I have no idea.” Daring snapped the window shut, then looked to Velvet’s saddlebags. “We might have to prepare to make a quick exit at a moment’s notice, though. We might not have five minutes. Here...” With her wing, Daring brought a dark-hooded leather jacket closer to Velvet. 

Velvet held it out in her magic. “What’s this for?”

“The weather. It might get cold and moist out.”

Velvet slipped the jacket on to check the fit as Daring continued to stuff their belongings into their bags. Rather sleek…too sleek in fact: it was cut for a fit mare, a size or two smaller than her. Putting it on right now would be sure to chafe at the very least, and restrict movement at worst. Still, the brass fittings went well with the soft shine of the black leather, and the hood was a plus. Maybe there was a story behind the additional straps and loops in brown leather. Though, maybe there wasn't, and that was all Daring had on hoof.

“No thanks.” Velvet tossed the jacket back to Daring and rubbed some of the remaining chill off her forelegs. “I’ll just rely on my eclair-filled blubber.”

Daring  looked at Velvet and then shrugged. “Your loss. Now get over here and help me with this.”

As Velvet darted around the room to pack their belongings, she couldn’t help looking out the window every once in a while, leaving her hooves on autopilot. Though the sky remained clear for the most part—unless her eyes were deceiving her—a grayish wisp seemed to streak past every so often. White dots seemed to dance in each wisp, condensing into droplets that clouded the view.

Velvet shook her head and focused on her bags. Better saddle up. Storm’s a comin’.
> Chapter 15: What Happens in Canterlot...
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Spike? Spike! Where are you?“

From behind the bathroom door, Twilight Sparkle’s muffled voice pulled Spike from his slumber. The scent of old books and the sensation of rough paper rubbing his face followed not long after. Slivers of light slid past the edges of the book into the corners of his vision, so he definitely hadn’t fallen asleep beneath one of his massive comic collector’s compendiums again. They were expansive enough to block out eyesight entirely. 

Wait.

The light had a yellowish tinge to it. It was a subtle difference from the mostly white lamps he’d switched on, but surely this wasn’t worth losing sleep over, right?

A rooster crowed. It flicked a switch in Spike’s mind. He gasped, plucking the journal from his face. The yellow morning sun assaulted his eyeballs for half a second. A cold sweat ran down Spike’s temple as he tried to rub the grogginess from his face. How long had he been he out?

The door clicked open. Green eyes met violet for an instant. 

“Spike, are you in—wah!”

Peeping Twilight yanked her face back outside. She slammed the door, a single feather drifting to the floor her only calling card. Quick, shallow breaths caused condensation to form on the faucet in front of Spike’s mouth as he looked from the door back down to the book in his lap.

“I’m calling the psychiatrist!” Twilight called out from behind the door. 

Spike opened his mouth and groaned, “For you, or for me?”

Twilight’s answer was simple and pointed. “Yes.”

“I swear it’s not what it looks like!” Spike’s voice dried up as he scrambled out the sink, claws shrieking against the porcelain. “Really! I was just…using the bathroom rug as warmth!” 

“Right…well, you can continue ‘Whatever That Doesn’t Look Like’ back in Ponyville.” Spike could almost see Twilight’s eyes roll as he spread the rug back on the floor—quite a feat, giving his shaking, sleep-deprived claws. “If we’re not at the train station in twenty minutes, we’re gonna miss the departure!”

Shoving his latent drowsiness to the back of his mind, Spike bolted out the door. He hugged Velvet’s journal close with his right hand, placing his right arm over the cover while he saluted with the other hand. 

“Number-one assistant reporting for duty!” Spike tried to prevent the fins on the sides of his head from drooping. He gave Twilight a wide, toothy grin. Twilight’s only response was to tap her hoof and frown back—hopefully at him and not the journal.

Twilight clicked her tongue. “You know, if we hadn’t spent ten minutes this morning searching for you, we wouldn’t be quite so behind schedule. Seriously, the bathroom sink?” 

‘What?” Spike gave a virtuous shrug. “It’s exactly my size!”

Twilight only raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, want to put that behind us?”

Spike glanced down. “Yeah, th-that sounds like a good idea.”

“Well, Mom and Dad are waiting outside. Don’t forget you still need to send the books we got from the Canterlot library to Ponyville. They’re in the living room.”

Spike snapped his fingers. “Oh, right! Sure thing.” Thank Celestia Twilight wasn’t pressing for more info on Velvet’s journal. He followed Twilight to the hallway, wiping some perspiration from his forehead before rubbing at the corners of his eyes. 

Twilight paused at the top of the stairs and turned to Spike. “By the way, anything you want from Donut Joe’s? We don’t have time to make breakfast.”

“Oh, just strawberry—extra sprinkles.” Spike’s free arm swung limply at every step he walked down the stairs. Twilight gave him another glare; at least this time, it wasn’t a piercing one. She wasn’t suspicious anymore, thank Celestia.

“You sure? No coffee or anything?”

“Psh, nah! Coffee? Spike the Brave and Glorious doesn’t need coffee!” A crazed smile cracked itself open on Spike’s face as he waved off Twilight’s suggestion. “He keeps himself perky and alert with sheer heroic willpower alone!”

Twilight chuckled once her hoof made it to the foot of the stairs. They arrived at a neatly stacked collection of books piled up behind the sofa. “Either heroic or foolhardy—I guess time will tell, eh? Well, Mr. Brave and Glorious, you think this beast is any match for your fire breath?” 

Spike made a show of measuring the stack, holding his claws forward as if framing them in a picture. After sizing it up, then licking a finger and sticking it in the air to sense wind direction, he heard a snort from his sister. 

“Well, don’t strain yourself.”

Spike gave her a cocksure grin before he turned and cupped his right hand to his mouth. One deep breath later, a green flame erupted from Spike’s puckered lips. The Book Beast never stood a chance.

Twilight put a hoof on Spike’s shoulder. This was probably the only time she’d been happy to see books getting burned…

…well, one of two times, if Princess Cadance’s gossips were to be believed.

“Nice one. Looks like those fire breath exercises are really paying off!” Twilight beamed.

Spike polished a claw against his chest scales, hoping Twilight didn’t notice the sweat on his forehead. “ “Y-yeah…time to head back to Ponyville then?”

“Sure thing, Champ.” A spring in her step, Twilight opened the main door with her magic. Spike, on the other hand, trudged toward her direction. Scratching his head with his right claw, he looked back at the space where the mountain of books once stood. Was he forgetting something?

Eh, that’d be Future Spike’s problem.





A deluge of sounds—ponies chattering, brakes shifting, and a station announcer’s voice filtered through a loudspeaker—flooded Spike’s hearing. The wind howled through his ear flaps as the train in front of him disappeared into a tunnel leading to Vanhoover, but his groggy mind had yet to adjust to the constant sensory assault of wakefulness. He slapped himself to banish the sludge of drowsiness from his mind. That was it: no more late-night binge-reading. 

From the right corner of Spike’s vision, near the messenger bag that was leaning on the armrest, Night Light leaned forward and faced left. “No sign of your train yet, Twilight?” 

Twilight glanced at the timetable hanging above her and grumbled. “Nothing. Last announcement said they’d be here ten minutes late and it’s now 7:45. Ugh, you were right, Dad. We should’ve slept in.”

Spike rubbed the sand from his eyes. You and me both, Twilight.

“That’s the Pan-Equestrian Railroad Organization for you.” From the left of the bench, Twilight Velvet glanced away from the unicorn technomage’s equivalent to a puzzle cube—a levitating, sparking board studded with wires and a glowing, light blue square at the center—and at her Little Star. “Soon as they see some shiny new tech dangling in front of their faces, they paw at it like Rose and North when I open the catnip.”

Twilight huffed. “Or their owner, when she gets a brand-spanking-new O-scope from Amarezon.”

“Twilight…” Night Light’s displeased voice slapped the back of Spike’s scales. “That’s no way to—”

Velvet lifted a hoof. “No, no… It’s fine. . I totally get where Sparky’s coming from.” 

Spike got jostled from the side as Twilight’s wings flinched. 

“Hell, if I were still working for Scientific Equestrian, and a colleague told me that some long-lost, ancient Empire had not only just resurfaced, but also possessed aetheric fuel cells more efficient than our own, you can bet my ass I’d swoop down there as well.” Velvet stopped a while to switch a wire from one hole on the circuit board to another, causing the bright, light blue to glow brighter. “Cheaper, faster engines and all that.”

Twilight leaned back and crossed her forelegs. “But that’s…how…what were they thinking? Crystal Empire fuel cells lose chemical and electrical stability the longer they aren’t exposed to the Crystal Heart’s magic. How come I haven’t heard of this before?”

“They only started a few days ago.” A snort escaped Velvet’s nostrils. “And already the reports are coming in. They won’t even send the trains back to the Crystal Empire for recharging. Nope! Gotta rake in that dough.” Velvet sent a magenta pulse from her horn and into the wiring board, causing the glowing center to dim. “...that is, until…”

A bang, then smoke. Sparks burst out the light blue square at the center of the board. 

Twilight and Spike yelped. Their spines slammed the back of the bench. Then Twilight, after quickly calming her breathing, glared at her mother. “Mom! Quit causing a scene!” Twilight hissed. “Other ponies are watching!”

“Hey, I was just showing you how—” Velvet put a hoof in the air, but hesitated once her eyes met Night Light’s. She sat back on the floor, chagrined. 

“Sorry.” Velvet folded her ears as she put the board back in her bag. “Just got…carried away. But you get my point. The locomotive’s not going to blow up or anything, but it’d trip the circuit breakers and activate the emergency brakes. The Railroad Authority hasn’t given a damn about reliability in decades, and their safety record has only recently improved. Marginally. ”

“Huh, well, can't argue with that. ” Twilight lowered her head as Spike dismounted from Twilight and got back to sitting on the bench. “I’d say you have some personal experience in the latter.”

“Eh?” Spike turned to Twilight.

“Don’t you remember what Mom said before?” clarified Twilight. “She got caught in the crossfire of that shootout in the '90s. Makes sense she wouldn’t be comfortable around trains.”

“Oh, so you were listening to my Scar Stories!” Velvet chuckled as she scooted closer to Twilight. She grinned surreptitiously.  “Want to hear more?”

Twilight leaned away, pushing harder against her assistant’s side. “Um, actually Mom…”

“No, no… I’m bored with telling them, too.”

Twilight’s tensed shoulders relaxed as she released a breath. Meanwhile, Spike pursed his lips and glanced away, concealing a frustrated snap from his claw. So much for hearing Present Velvet’s side.

“So let’s play a little game: you tell me how you got that”—Velvet pointed to a ridged, pale streak at Twilight’s left cheek, then extended her own right hind leg outward to show a reddish-pink patch—“and I’ll tell you how I got this. Oh, and Nachtlicht?”

Night Light walked to Velvet’s side, concealing a subtle frown from Velvet’s nickname. Velvet pulled him closer and pointed at his chest. “You’ve mapped out my scars in intimate detail, so you get the honor of judging which one of our anecdotes is worthy of the Tall Tale Literary Prize. Sound good?”

Night Light looked at her dubiously. “You sure, hun? Are you gonna put up your scars against the alicorn that blasted Tirek in the face with the Friendship Cannon of Doom?”

“Are you kidding?” Velvet put her hooves on her hips. “My scars could stand up to the stories of Celestia herself!” Night Light shook his head before meeting his daughter’s gaze. “How about you, Twilight? You sure you want to do this?”

Twilight touched the scar on her face before giving an awkward chuckle. Her ears folded back as she ducked.  “I’ve never bragged about battle wounds before… I guess so?”

Spike tried to hide a little fist pump, then rubbed his palms together. Whatever spirit possessed Twilight to make her agree to this contest, he’d have to bow down to it. This was sure to cast some light on some of his mom’s past. If Twilight had turned down the offer, he wouldn’t get a better chance… 

…that is, if he could take advantage of it. Velvet’s short-circuiting object lesson may have given him a slight jolt, but already the waking effects of adrenaline were fading. Spike shook his head, both to clear it and to scrounge up the last of his waking energy. 

“C’mon, Twi!” Spike elbowed Twilight’s side, a wide toothy smile plastered on his face. “Like mother, like daughter! Why don’t you tell her how you kicked Chrysalis’s flank during the Secretariat Comet fiasco!”

Night Light gave a low whistle. “Ooh, the Secretariat Comet? Sounds like you’ve got some stiff competition, Vel!” 

A family of five at a bench farther away turned their heads to Night Light, perking up their ears. "Okay move along folks! Nothing to see here!"

Velvet frowned at Night Light while Twilight rubbed her shoulder “Ouch, Spike! What’s gotten into you? You’ve never been that anxious to hear me recount my more dangerous encounters.” 

Spike gave a massive yawn. Sleep deprivation gave his voice a slight scratch, a hairline crack at the facade. “Well, yeah, but it was never like this,” he continued, pointing at Twilight’s parents as he leaned back. “You’ve heard Mom’s stories before; now it’s your turn.” He leaned back, crossing his arms and slouching to get more comfortable. “Tell it in Scar Story-style!”

Twilight merely snickered.

“All right, all right, simmer down, Michael Hay.” Twilight then faced her parents as Spike scooted to the right to give Twilight some space. “So yeah, Spike’s right. I got this from my last fight with Queen Chrysalis.” After brushing a hoof on the scar, she pointed her hoof up on the air. “This one wasn’t from our first scrape with Chrysalis and her crazy cronies during Shining’s wedding. It was a few weeks after we liberated the Crystal Empire, back in Ponyville.” Twilight’s parents sat on the floor as their daughter began to get absorbed into her tale. “My friends and I noticed that the Cutie Mark Crusaders were acting a bit…”

After a few minutes, Spike’s eyelids grew heavy. Where there were once articulate words, Twilight’s voice became an infusion of indecipherable murmurs. Spike pinched the undersides of his eyes—a laughable front against the encroaching drowsiness. 

The next few minutes wafted past in a blur. Despite his best efforts, Spike drifted in and out of wakefulness. He pinched his side, slapped his face, and even dug his claws into his thighs, but nothing broke the cycle. Spike wasn’t the World’s Bravest DragonKnight for nothing, and he wouldn’t allow the wiles of the seductive succubus of sleep to slide him snoring into silky sleek slumber. He was going to get Velvet’s side of the story, dang it, even if this time he had to get it in groggy chunks. 

“So after we escaped the rather obsessive cave troll…”

…

“But Fluttershy just smiled and said, ‘Nature is so fascinating.’ It was—”

…

“…already strengthened herself with the comet’s magic. But two can play…”

…

“…damn, Sparky. How can I top that? I might have to tell a different Scar Story…”

Spike stirred. Velvet’s voice renewed his vigor, if only for a bit, and his head trembled as Velvet’s muddied form gradually came into focus. Rather than the patch on her leg, Velvet instead parted her mane with her magic and pointed a hoof at the left side of her forehead. “I think this one stands a better chance of standing up to your story. This one’s courtesy of- no, I misspoke. If it weren’t for River Rapids’ bulk, I might not be here at all!”

Twilight creased her eyebrows. “River Rapids? Did you go off another waterfall?”

“Um…” Velvet scratched her chin. She glanced down to hide her eyes, which darted left to right. “Hmm, well—”

Night Light stepped forward. “River Rapids was a security guard your mom met in Baltimare during a tour to see Fetlock Maretin’s new airship. Something about an article, I think.”

“Ah yes!” Velvet nodded at her husband. “She was a bit rough, I’ll admit. Gave me some flak when she saw Evy. Some folks just don’t understand the RSB-650.” 

 “Which of your two-wheeled monstrosities did you name Evy, again?” Twilight snorted.

“The first, of course!” Velvet crossed her arms. Amid the bustling ambience of the train station, Spike caught a faint, half-flustered-half-nostalgic huff from Velvet’s end before she waved her hoof. “But that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, back then, Fetlock Maretin hadn’t gotten the hang of making transformers for weather magic, so needless to say…”

Twilight pursed her lips. “Why does everything around you explode?”

Velvet rolled her eyes. “Battle with Tirek? Discord’s rampage? Pot, meet kettle?” 

A tingle shot up Spike’s spine as Twilight’s tail flicked and brushed against his arm. “Three to four years’ worth of explosions is nothing compared to thirty to forty, Mom!”

“Well”—Velvet straightened herself, brushing off Twilight’s protests—“this wasn’t like one of those fancy MythBuckers-type explosions that give you a high. This was real as shit. The fires ate the outer fabric. Flaming girders from the airship’s catwalks fell all around me. Most of my colleagues escaped, but I was trapped. One steel column got too close for comfort to my head. Could’ve sworn it was melting: felt like my mane was going to spontaneously combust.”

Velvet rubbed the nape of her neck. 

“But she got me out. Rapids just plowed right through all that shit!” Velvet smacked her hooves together. “I mean, I didn’t think she….”

Spike glanced downward. That wasn't what he read in her journal at all! Unless Rapids quit being a merc and became a security guard and this takes place after Velvet met Daring. Spike blinked two times, Velvet’s words fading into the background. Evy wasn’t destroyed in this anecdote, and the real Rapids probably never even knew who Evy was…

Spike’s eyes grew heavy once again. His neck muscles were losing the battle to hold his head upwards. Groaning, Spike slid his claw down his face, even going so far as to bite down on the web between his thumb and index finger. Maybe the pain would jolt him awake.

For once, dragon toughness was not his friend.

Ngh…not now…

The World’s Bravest DragonKnight had failed.

…

“Oh Spike, could you get my—”

Spike catapulted upwards. Twilight’s words, plus a nudge from her hoof, sent a jolt up his spine and out his arms. It was what came out of his mouth, however, that really snapped him back to Equestria.

“Whaagh! No, she didn’t!”

All the Sparkles cocked their heads. 

“I-I mean…” Spike slapped himself a second time. “I mean Rapids wouldn’t do something like that! And that scar wasn’t from some flaming girder or whatever! It came from Rapids punching you into a shipping container!”

Velvet scratched her neck with her hoof. “Shipping… container?” She shook her head with an uneasy smile. “Hey, c’mon, I know I said she was an ass”—she looked behind her, then breathed a sigh of relief when a passing mule took no notice—“but that doesn’t make her an uncaring psychopath!”

Spike gritted his teeth and raised his arms in protest. “Not what I meant! Rapids didn’t save you! Heck, she was trying to kill you because she was a mercenary trying to stop you from helping Daring Do!”

A heavy silence loomed over the Sparkles. It pushed out the background ambient noise of the train station. Everypony stared at Spike, their eyes wider than his head.

“Pfft…ba-haha haha!” Velvet slapped the floor tiles with her front hoof, then leaned on Night Light. “Haha…oh…oh my Celestia! Help me, Dear. I think I’m gonna—”

Night Light cradled his wife, though even he was doing a bad job of suppressing the urge to join his wife’s guffawing. The fins on Spike’s ears drooped along with his eyebrows and the corners of his lips. They drooped even more when he looked at Twilight’s face: she wasn’t even trying to hold her laughter.

It wasn’t until half a minute later when Velvet beat her chest to calm herself. Night Light offered Velvet a hanky, which she used to dab the shimmering corners of her eyes before she waved her hoof. “Okay…okay. That…that was a good one, Hot Stuff. My Scar Story was starting to lean onto the serious side, so thanks for the comic relief! You’d make a good Element of Laughter.”

Spike stammered. “But…but I’m serious! You did go on a Daring Do adventure…”

Velvet nodded. “Well sure! When was it, honey—summer about twelve years ago?”

Night Light gave a contemplative nod while Spike perked up. Finally some answers! Straight from the horse’s—

“Right.” Night Light rubbed his chin. “That was the time Twilight and Shining wanted to ride the Ahuizotl animatronic at Yearling’s World.”

Horsefeathers.

“Yup.” Velvet reminisced before leaning back, turning her ice blue eyes over to Twilight, jabbing her with a gaze. “Twilight here almost brought the damn thing to life. And thereafter, she was christened ‘Sparky.’”  

“Mom! Can we not talk about that?”

Night Light reached a hoof around Spike’s shoulders, gathering him in while he motioned with his other hoof in a sweeping gesture. “Long story short, it’s the reason we can never go on one of those Adventu-Cations ever again.” 

A mumble along the lines of “Thank you, Dad” traveled from Twilight’s mouth and into Spike’s ears, but it hardly made a dent on Spike. 

Spike pulled away from his Dad before returning to his original train of thought. “No no no, not like that. I mean a real adventure—like with Rainbow Dash and the Ring of Scorchero!”

Velvet only replied with another chuckle. “Oh, you must’ve been dreaming. Right honey?” She elbowed Night Light and pointed to a vendor’s cart in the distance. “Could you get us some coffee from Cuppa Joe’s?”

“Right, right. Flat white for you, Lungo for Twilight, and—” He put a hoof to his chin and looked at Spike “—how do you want yours?”

“Um…” Spike rubbed his sweaty palms. The incongruity between Velvet’s tale and the journal’s account still caused the gears in his mind to creak. “Surprise me…?”

“He’ll have the Filtered Southern Marwari,” interjected Twilight. “It’s strong enough to keep him up for most of the day…if they know how to make it, that is.”

Night Light winked. “Don’t underestimate Joe.” 

As Night Light walked off, Spike crossed his arms. “I’m not that—” a yawn cut him off, and he struggled to stretch his arms and hold up the facade “—that tired…”

The two Twilights replied with frowns. 

“It’s like they think I’m a child,” muttered Spike before speaking up with renewed vigor. “What about that scar on your cheek, or that one on your right leg, or that one on your other right leg, or—”

“You think I make crap like this”—Velvet levitated her dragon-fire lighter out of a bag on the floor—“and not expect a capacitor or two to short-circuit on me once in a while? And it’s not just the lab in the basement that’s out to get you. Imagine getting rattled around in a motocross rally at seventy miles an hour before a booster solenoid decides it wants to penetrate you the instant you show some leg.” A smirk punctuated her point. “And that’s just on top of crazy shit like the Great Train Shootout of '92.”

Spike sighed and pursed his lips as he glanced away from Velvet. He should’ve figured Twilight’s mom would be tough to crack.

At the top corner of Spike’s vision, Twilight put a hoof to her chin. “Well, Spike kinda has a point.”

Spike’s eyes widened. Of all the sources for reinforcements in verbal combat, it had to be his adoptive big sister.

Spreading her wings, Twilight waved her hooves, a sliver of a snicker making its way out of her mouth. “Not with the Daring Do thing, of course. That’s horseapples. But you do have more scars than any STEM pony I know. I think Radiance Cloppenheimer’s the only one who has the same number of scars as you do, and she has the excuse of being a Crystal pony involved in the original war when Sombra was—”

“Now, Twilight.” The smell of robusta roast wafted into Spike’s nose as Night Light returned with the coffee. After levitating several paper cups to Spike and his two favorite constellations, he walked to Twilight Sparkle’s side and looked her squarely in the eyes. “Your mom was a journalist. Celestia knows how many ponies from far off places she had to interview. And like she said, she does things like motorbike races in her spare time, so of course she’d end up getting nicked more than your usual scientist.”

Twilight looked down at her coffee. The only sound apart from the station ambience was Spike sipping from his own cup. More bitter than what he was used to, but the taste was relegated to the background of his mind; the family drama in front of him took center stage.

“I know you two aren’t exactly on even ground.” Night Light’s tone softened. “But at least try to be more understanding of her, okay? She’s been through a lot, after all.”

Before Night Light could continue, a chime echoed throughout the station, followed by a faint squeal from the rail tunnel. Spike and the Sparkles turned their heads to look, even if they all knew what it was. 

As the train to Ponyville coasted to a stop at the platform and before Twilight could get off the seat, Night Light gave his daughter a hug. “See you again soon, My Little Bookworm,” he said as Twilight returned in kind, her wings folding as a wide smile grew on her face.

Without spilling his coffee, Spike hopped off the bench before slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. Twilight started making her way to the train. She was halfway through when the sound of trotting hooves caused her to look back. “What, none for me?” Velvet asked.

Twilight glanced aside, then stared at her mother’s formerly mirthful grin. Only after a few seconds of hesitation did she grant Velvet’s request. “Atta girl. Now go get 'em, Tiger.”

Twilight entered the train, but as Spike followed her lead, he looked back at Twilight’s parents. Night Light’s eyes weren’t trained at him—thank Celestia—he was occupied with seeing Twilight off. But he wasn’t Spike’s main concern.

Velvet stared back.

It wasn’t a piercing, stabbing gaze. Icicles weren’t sprouting from her eyes and drilling into his head. Nonetheless, it was enough to make Spike swallow the lump in his throat. 

He hurried into the train car, shoving fellow passengers’ legs out of the way and cupping his coffee with both his claws. Eventually, he reached the rear right corner of the car: Twilight’s usual spot when traveling without her friends. After climbing up a vacant seat, Spike sipped from his coffee and relaxed his eyelids. The train jostled under him, the brakes disengaging and the wheels clattering. He had barely settled in before he took one last instinctive glance out the window.

Velvet was still staring at him. It was the look of careful calculation—like a sniper studying her prey. 





As the train snaked its way down the slopes of the Canterlot outskirts, Spike shrank just a little lower in his seat. He felt like his soul was left behind on the bench back at the train station.





The last drops of Southern Marwari Drip passed down Spike’s gullet as the dragon looked down at his coffee cup. Just him and Twilight now, and she was busy staring out the window: no pony, scheduling delay, bouts of sleepiness, or random monster encounter were around to distract him from his thoughts. 

An internal conflict weighed heavily on his mind, and he grimaced at it. Why was he even having second thoughts in the first place? The mother of his adoptive sister being a globe-trotting badass? And one of the few ponies to even know who Daring Do actually is? Who wouldn’t respect somepony like that? 

Spike shook his head. And yet…it’s just not right.

What kind of mother lies to her kids and hides secrets from them? Sure, this was Daring Do they were dealing with, and perhaps hiding her past made sense back when Shining Armor and Twilight Sparkle were still foals. But Shining was now the Captain of the Royal Guard, and Twilight…well…Twilight is Twilight.  They could stand whatever Daring’s foes threw in their way, but despite that, it didn’t seem like Velvet had any plans to come out any time soon. 

Then there was Night Light. Spike did notice that he didn’t have as many scars as Velvet, and he always was on the lanky side, at least, compared to his wife’s meat. Maybe she was protecting him? That didn't add up, though. He kept covering for Velvet back there—even cooked up a fake backstory for River Rapids. Though that’s if he knew of the real River Rapids. Maybe Velvet’s been feeding him lies as well. Celestia knew she wasn’t above that before her marriage…

“What was all that about?” Twilight’s displeased voice shook Spike from his musings. He looked up to the sight of Twilight frowning at him, ears folded back. “It’s one thing to make up conspiracy theories, but to make up conspiracy theories about Mom? To her face?”

Spike looked away. 

“I know things between us haven’t always been civil, but that was just uncalled for!” Twilight snorted, then rested her head and her forelegs on the edge of the window, her frown showing no signs of abating. 

Spike licked his lips and sighed. Whatever his next course of action would be, it didn’t seem like Twilight was in a pliable mood. Velvet and Night Light got him good. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, “your mom was right. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

There was no reply. Twilight was still leaning on the window, her eyes tracking Canterlot as it shrunk into the background. Normally, this would be the time Twilight would take advantage of the privacy afforded to her by being in the rear seat and ask Spike for one of her books. But no, Twilight just kept staring out the window. Perhaps she wasn’t as closed off as he thought…

“Twilight?”

Twilight drew a hoof back and forth across the base of the window. When she turned to regard him again, her expression had softened. “L-listen, I figure you wouldn’t say something like that without a good reason—at least a better reason than ‘sleep deprivation is a heck of a drug.’” Twilight took her forelegs off the window’s edge and turned to face Spike fully.  “Horseapples, when I was running around saying Nightmare Moon was returning, ponies looked at me like I was saying that Cloudsdale was cloud-seeding chemicals to turn all the parasprites gay.”

A sigh interrupted Twilight before she pursed her lips and continued. “But I knew what I knew.  I had a book. I cross-referenced it after the Summer Sun Celebration.” Twilight rolled her eyes.  “In hindsight, it’s a wonder no pony saw the signs decades earlier. But now?” Twilight folded her ears. “I-I’m sorry, Spike, but I need more than just hearsay…even if it’s coming from my number one assistant.”

Spike bit his tongue in frustration. It was ironic that Twilight was lecturing him on the necessity to have corroboration of a book, and that was exactly what he had. As if by reflex, Spike grasped the strap of his messenger bag. As far as he could remember, he had left Velvet’s journal back in Canterlot. It wouldn’t be right to steal somepony’s private property—even if he didn’t agree with the reason she was keeping said property private. 

“So…what are you saying, exactly?” Spike studied Twilight’s face. “Do you think your mom’s actually hiding anything?”

Twilight shook her head. “I…don’t know. Mom partnering with Daring sounds like something out of one of Rainbow Dash’s fanfics.” She then leaned in closer to Spike. “Please don’t tell Dashie I said that!”

Spike suppressed a snicker and crossed his heart.

“But the possibility of Mom doing something shady during her trips, well…” Twilight leaned back and smacked her lips. “Everypony has their secrets. Everypony has hidden depths. That’s just a fact of life, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. It’s what those secrets are and what you’re doing with them that matters. And if Mom really has been doing shady stuff…”

It was Twilight’s turn to look down. “I wouldn’t know what to think. She’s always been fiery and reckless, but she’s no criminal or killer or anything like that…I hope. I need time to think; let’s just leave it at that.” 

Twilight leaned back, fidgeted in her seat, and crossed her hooves. Not quite the answer he was looking for, but he hadn’t had many of those since yesterday. Spike leaned back as well, the empty coffee cup still in his claws. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later, after a passing attendant took Spike and Twilight’s trash, that Twilight broke the ice and sat up. “So—you found First Edition Power Ponies?”

“Oh! Um…” Spike’s eyes shifted as he twiddled his thumbs. Of all the things Twilight could change the subject to, why did it have to be that? “I-I didn’t see it at first. Then I got distracted by some Vintage Shadow Spade! I gave it a chance, but, uh... It kind of lost me by Chapter Three. I kinda wish I’d swiped it for Rarity though. She would’ve liked it…”

As Twilight chuckled in response. “Ooh, Chapter Four is where the plot really picks up. Give it another shot…for Rarity, right?” 

Twilight’s eyes gravitated out the window again, the wreckage of her old library coming into view. Meanwhile, Spike swallowed a lump in his throat. Minutes ago, he was railing against Velvet’s lies in his head, and here he was, deceiving Twilight. Luckily, he didn’t let the lump in his throat crack the facade. 

Twilight turned back to Spike. “Speaking of Rarity, I promised to help her rearrange her gem drawers, so could you watch over the castle?”

Spike smiled. “But…but Rarity! My darling! Can’t I go see her with you?”

“Heh heh, I’ll send her your regards. But no, Spike. The castle’s already gone for too long without anypony watching over it. I should really find a house sitter one of these days.”





Upon entering the double doors of the Friendship Castle, Spike stretched his arms and smacked his lips, allowing the messenger bag containing Meadowbrook’s Translated Corpus and Daring Do and the Crystal Sphere of Khnum to slide off his shoulders. He didn’t get many chances to be the mare of the house…or drake, in this case. Not that he looked forward to these chances: there was more house in this castle than he knew what to do with. No wonder Twilight preferred doing research in coffee shops outside the castle.

At least, that was the reason he thought Twilight didn’t seem as attached to the castle as she did with the library.

To Spike’s left, a tower of books stood at the hall, fresh from the Canterlot libraries and ready to be welcomed to their new home. Spike placed his claws on his hips. “Well, I’ll be,” he said, walking towards Book Mountain. “Glad to see you’re all in one piece! Hope you don’t mind me almost scorching you,” he said at no book in particular—clearly, Twilight was being a bad influence. “I was having a late-night meeting with this one girl. Man, she tells the craziest stories…”

One blackened book at the corner wiped the smirk off his face.

Spike rushed to the battlefield casualty and immediately inspected the wound. Though a large patch obscured most of the cover, his claw was able to expose just enough to confirm the book’s identity. “‘The Missing Moon. Draconequus-hybrid Prince Tarom, the Prince of Peace and the Seventh Element of Harmony, makes a saddening discovery: he is pregnant with—’ Oh, it’s this garbage, I see.” Normally, Twilight treasured books that were no longer in print...normally. This was an exception, though, at least, from what he heard from Cadance.

He tossed the book into the air, his flame breath making short work of the abomination. The ashes sprinkling the carpet brought a smile to his face. It would not be missed...

The next book Spike saw after he turned back to the pile, however, would be. 

His claws plucked the brown book from the pile and flipped the pages. His heart sped up, then crashed into his stomach. 

His chest heaved.

His palms grew sweaty.

And the book slipped off his claws as Spike stepped back.

“Oh no! I thought I left you back in Canterlot!”

The open pages of Velvet’s journal taunted the apex predator. He scanned his memories, going back to the time he sent the books from the Sparkle House, but everything was a blur. “How did it get…agh!” Spike jabbed his forehead with his knuckles. 

The clouds lifted, and Spike slapped himself in the face. 

“I must've dropped it on the floor of the living room while I was sending this pile of books to Canterlot! Okay, okay. Think, think, think. Calm down.” Spike rubbed his forehead and began pacing through the halls. He could hide the journal for a while, of course, but eventually, Velvet would come looking for it. He had to return the artifact back to the tomb in which he discovered it, or suffer the Mommy’s curse. Sneak out? No, he couldn’t leave the castle—not when Twilight entrusted him to watch over it. Ask Twilight if he could take a train back to Canterlot? No, she’d get suspicious. 

Spike stopped pacing the hall and stared at the notebook, Twilight’s words ringing in his ears. “I had a book… I need more than just hearsay.”

As if possessed by the spirit of the journal, Spike grabbed the journal and started making his way to the throne room. A lone book, lying on the round table with pages open—surely that would grab Twilight’s attention. She had a right to know, and someone had to put a stop to the lies.

But then Spike stopped. 

“Wait a minute, why should I be the one to reveal the truth to Twilight?”

This was more than just somepony keeping secrets and telling lies. This was a dispute between Twilight Senior and Twilight Junior. This was something they had to settle between the two of them. Himself? He could be a mediator, but ultimately, it was up to them to mend their relationship. After all, it’d be better to convince Velvet to come out of the closet by her own volition rather than drag her out by revealing her secret behind her back. Also, he preferred to keep his head attached to his shoulders.

He still had to find a way to return the journal to Velvet, though, and ask Twilight when the next trip to Canterlot would be. In the meantime...

Spike retreated to the library room and shut the door. The room’s empty shelves and wide, cavernous space reminded him of how the denizens in Book Mountain were waiting to be sorted. Well, they were going to have to wait a little longer. The Journal was calling.

“All right, Mrs. Velvet’s Journal,” Spike said as he dragged a chair and sat at one of the tables, “looks like I’m stuck with you.” A little smirk crossed his face as he cracks it open. “‘Once more, unto the breach.’”  

Dear Journal

Didn’t think my first international trip would look like this. A Monacolt casino? A palace in Saddle Arabia? Panthera’s Hanging Gardens? Nah man, Random Shanty #919 in a third-world shithole is where it’s at. At least the ponies here are nice…when they’re not gun-toting insurgents or paramilitaries or whatnot. And hey, if those types mess with us, I’ve got one hell of a bodyguard.

I never thought I’d say this, though, but I’m glad to be off that airship. The UK-2642 isn’t as fun to gawk at when there’s ponies shooting at you…

…well, ponies plus one pony-like thing.
> Chapter 16: Fight or Flight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A flash, followed by a boom, leaked from the window. The airship trembled, but Daring Do and Twilight Velvet didn’t take much notice. That thunderstorm from outside had been going on for hours—more than enough time for both of them to relegate it to the backs of their minds. Even after they’d relocated to another storage closet, it didn’t seem like much had changed.

“You’d think they’d be asking us to dinner after we just bent them over on their own ship!” Velvet threw her hooves upwards. “I thought we had something special! Whatever, at least now I got time to tinker."

Resting her head on her hooves, Daring rolled her eyes, then smirked as Velvet balanced herself on her hind legs. Her protegee patted strips of duct tape fastened to the cuffs of her hooded leather jacket, making sure they held the hooks she strapped onto them a few minutes ago. Yes, the jacket was small, but maybe it could be put to good use…after some adjustments, that is.

“Hey! Hey, Do Dare, check this out!” Velvet curled her foreleg in front of her face. Hanging from the hooks on her foreleg, a rough, greenish-brown fabric hid the lower half of her face under shadow. Velvet’s eyebrows curled downwards as she dropped her voice several octaves into a growl. “I’m Bat-Mare.”

Daring reached out for a broom and poked Velvet’s belly with the top part of the handle. “So much for ‘eclair-filled blubber,’ eh? But, uh, Nightmare Night’s not in another two months.”

“Oh, don’t think for a second this is about warmth.” Velvet fired back at Daring’s cheeky grin with one of her own, then spread her forelegs outward, showing more of the hanging fabric. “This is for flying. Celestia knows how good you are at that, so I made this wingsuit to make sure I’m not totally helpless if—I mean, when I fall overboard.”

Daring huffed. She sent another poke at Velvet’s direction, this time in the middle of her fabric wing. A small crunching sound emanated from the fluttering membrane made of mish-mashed material. “Look, Celestia knows you don’t look bad with wings, but you’d look worse with a few bullet holes after tripping over them.”

“Careful, somepony might think you actually care.” Velvet wiggled her eyebrows at Daring. “But to address your concern, I duct-taped some magnets along with the artifact inside my saddlebags. If I have to fold my wings, I can just…”

After sitting on the floor, Velvet dropped her forelegs to her hips and slid them up the sides of her torso. The loops on her wings unhooked themselves, and it wasn’t long before her forelegs were free once more. 

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Daring pursed her lips.

“Aw, I know you’re smiling deep down there!” Velvet scooted over to Daring, brought her closer with a one-legged hug, and pointed at her chest. “Real impressive jerry-rigging, right? Worthy of the Dual Nature Prize? Tell me how you really feel.”

Daring let out a half-amused “heh” and motioned Velvet to maintain social distancing. “Whatever you say, Neighcarus.”

“Hey! I am not flying to the sun!”

“Nope, only into a thunderstorm above the Fillyppines.”

A loud crack shook the airship. The Daring Duo flinched. 

“Case in point.”

The junk in Broom Closet HQ 2.0 flew into the air, and the single ceiling bulb flickered twice. After straightening her helmet, Daring scoped the room, mists forming from her ragged breaths.

“Damn, that was louder than last time!” said Velvet. “Did that lightning just hit us?” 

Another flash, then another crack drew Velvet’s eyes out the window. As she scurried towards it, the sound of Daring’s rifle being cocked bounced around the room.

“Check-out time. We have—”

Daring’s radio hissed to life and cut her off. Velvet glanced behind her just as another flash-boom combo punched the airship. “Bridge to Sartorius-Two!” a mare’s voice yelled. “Gimme a sitrep! 

Outside the window, two pegasi and a hippogriff flew from left to right. One of them turned his head at a radio of his own. “Hull breach at the aft starboard area, over!”

“Son of a broodmare…” muttered Bridge before raising her voice again. “Photon-One, why is it taking so long for you to clear this storm?!”

Both Bridge and Velvet awaited a response. Out the window, many yards away, two pegasi kicked a gray, flashing thunderhead four hundred times their combined size. Their manes flapped behind them, and their wings looked like they were going to snap from the wind. Two griffons soon joined in, but not even the combined weather magic of four flyers did anything other than chip off little puffs.

“Photon-One, come in!”

“Bridge, this is Temple-Five-Two!” a third mercenary joined in. “Photon-One and Three are KIA! We have X-Ray contact!” Interference interrupted him for a second. “…looks like a pony, but it’s made of—oh shit! Sartorius teams, it’s coming over to you!”

Lightning slammed the four flyers. Velvet shielded her eyes and spun away. 

When she opened them again, Daring was standing in front of her. Filtered through more white noise than usual, a cacophony of gunfire, yells, and crackling hisses flooded out of Daring’s radio. After flicking the radio off, Daring extended a hoof at Velvet. “Just in case you didn’t know, ‘X-Ray’ is mil slang for ‘powerful magical enemy of unknown species.”

Velvet rubbed her eyes, the afterimage of the rainbow lightning bolt burned in her retina, then took Daring’s hoof. “Comforting. So does that mean…?

“I hope not. Let’s get out of here before the customs police come knocking on our door.” The slight tremble in Daring’s voice gave her unease away as both mares broke for the exit. Velvet looked back and straightened the collar of her jacket. It was mostly out of reflex, but the crashing and shouting coming from outside the hull—this time, not filtered through a radio—certainly contributed to that.

Daring touched the knob.

The police came knocking, but not at the door.

A black silence flooded Velvet’s sight and hearing. Dust and debris swirled over her ears. Cold rain entered from a new hole in the hull and settled on Velvet’s legs, causing her fur to stand. The silence gave way to tinnitus as Velvet plucked her face out of the wall. Daring’s cries powered through the ringing, however faint they were.

“Twilight? Twilight!” A flying green and gold blob with rosy eyes lifted Velvet by the shoulders. “You okay?”

Velvet hissed, her hoof wiping the grime off her eyes and snout. “‘Okay?’ Psh, Okay is so out of fashion!” she said, removing her hoof from her nose and finding a bright red stain.

Light surged into the room again, this time punctuated by a hellish, crackling bellow. Velvet’s and Daring’s ears folded back, and they turned their heads to the source of the brain-frying noise. Velvet’s legs twitched, screaming at her body to jump up and hug Daring for comfort, but the sight of the X-Ray stunned every muscle into immobility.

It was her—The Demented Sculptor from the Cave.

Temple-Five-Two was only half right. Everything chest-up looked pony-like, and the X-Ray was pony-sized. But where were her…his…their…its hind legs? Where were the mane, the tail, and her face? The Lightning Mare’s body seemed to end at a bright mass of thunderclouds. An aura of mists and ever-pulsating sparks shone brighter than any welding job Velvet had performed. How this thing hadn’t blinded her permanently, Velvet couldn’t say. She was just glad it was facing something else towards the rear end of the ship—at least, if Velvet could make out her face at all.

The Lightning Mare turned her head. Multi-colored arcs flickered on her eyes. Velvet’s pale gray face turned even paler, and she looked away in reflex. 

“Out, now!” Daring swung the door open and zipped into the halls. Velvet looked away and followed suit, her eyes grateful for a brief rest from light. 

Broom Closet HQ 2.0—and part of the hall behind them—disappeared. 

Velvet galloped down the hall, her mentor flying by her side. The Lightning Mare’s encroaching bolts ate away the airship’s hull. Metal ground against metal. Shredded, flaming aviation canvas fluttered in the air. 

"What kind of lightning is this?!" Velvet licked her lips and panted. "It shouldn’t be able to rip crap apart like that!"

Exposed wires, both on the floor and the ceiling, sparked various colors. Velvet’s eyes traced the arcs as they snaked in cables unseen and erupted from the light fixtures.

She snapped her head in front of her. Daring’s helmet brushed against a ceiling lamp.

“Down!”

 A telekinetic jerk yanked Daring to a lower cruising altitude. She scowled at Velvet, who pointed at arcs erupting from the hole where the lamp used to be. “You’re welcome!”

An outlet at Daring’s left sputtered. Velvet turned her head away from the sparks and to the chaos at her right.

The Lightning Mare gazed into her eyes.

Velvet’s eyelids and pupils hardened. Her eyelashes began to crust and crystalize. Oh fuck! Not again!

A snap echoed ahead of her, followed by a sting around her horn. Daring yanked her whipping leash, and with it, her pet’s head. Velvet blinked several times and shook her head, hoping the injury wasn’t permanent.

“Now we’re even!” yelled Daring. “Next time, don’t look at her eyes! Don’t you remember what the bison said?!”

“What, ‘Gentle but cursed?’” Velvet puffed out. She flinched sideways, dodging a destroyed door. “If this is gentle, I’d hate to see what she’s like in heat!”

“Shut up!” Daring pointed to a series of cream-white stairs at the end of the corridor. “We’re almost there! Save your breath for the final stretch!”

Velvet growled through her teeth. She revved her cylinders, kicking herself to high gear.

Ahead, in front of Velvet’s headlights, a third pony popped out a door. He jerked his head right and jumped back. “What the—two tangos spotted!” The reflex sight on his shotgun glinted in Velvet’s vision. 

A burst of rifle rounds—two torso shots and a head finisher—silenced him. “I’ve got bigger problems!” Daring yelled at his falling corpse.

Speak of windigos, and they shall come.

A brilliant blue bolt carved the ceiling. Both ponies slammed on the brakes. They dove to the floor and curled into fetal positions. Shards of glass and wood bounced off their hides before Velvet opened one eye. What happened to their goal?

Nothing—the ceiling was gone, but the stairs themselves seemed fine. Why’d they stop? 

The floor jolted downward. Velvet staggered. Her head darted around as metal groaned around her. “Shit! Daring, this whole hallway’s gonna fall!”

Nopony replied. “D-Daring?”

She was already at the foot of the stairs. “I’ll catch you; move your custard-filled ass!”

This was it: the sprint finish. Velvet slammed the gas as her leg muscles heated. The only thing missing was the smell of burning rubber.

Her hooves left the floor. The floor left her and took her stomach with it.

And the world ground to a halt. Shattered wood, metal, and flailing sparks whipped around in a hurricane. Velvet’s mane sizzled with electricity as her hooves reached forward, pseudo-wings flapping out around her. Daring’s mouth was moving in slow motion, probably pronouncing Velvet’s absolute coolness…

…or maybe not. 

Then somepony hit the play button.

“Ack!” 

She scored.

Coiling her hooves around Daring’s own, Velvet reflexively wiggled her hind legs and looked down. Wreckage plummeted and punctured the clouds below. They could’ve made for a cushion, if they weren’t pulsing with lightning. A pant condensed into mist, and Velvet turned to the source of all their weather anomalies. 

The Lightning Mare wasn’t staring into anypony’s eyes. She didn’t need to. Several hailstones levitated in the air, surrounded by a blazing blue aura. “Pull me up! Pull me up! Pull me up!” Velvet’s voice cracked. “Miss ‘Gentle’ here wants to go skeet shooting with me!”

“Stop thrashing!” Daring flapped her wings, pulling her protegee up steadily. The business end of Velvet’s hooks came much too close and Daring winced. “If I wanted to get cut up, I’d just approach my nearest friendly neighborhood mercenary!”

Fast breaths gave way to deep breaths, and Velvet relaxed her hind legs. That said, she couldn’t help but paw at the step mere inches from her face. The frigid air behind her swirled. Velvet glanced behind. More hailstones surrounded the Lightning Mare. She twitched in her spread eagle posture, and Velvet could’ve sworn her cupped hooves were trembling.

Daring swept her wings forwards, pushing the rest of her body back. Velvet’s rear hooves made contact with the steps. Both mares crumpled into the stairs, Velvet taking a few steps up before looking back. 

The hail blocked the sky behind the Lightning Mare. Facing downward, her twitching, arcing body floated towards the Daring Duo as they backed up the stairs. Then her neck craned upwards.

Her aura flickered, then dimmed. Arcs of electricity stopped sprouting from her eyes. The Lightning Mare threw her head backwards, then beat her head with her hooves. A high-pitched cry rocked the sky, stretching Velvet’s eardrums to her limit. This was a different species of cry, however: it lacked the hissing, static undertone. Something about it seemed less angry and more…anguished.

That, or maybe it was the fact that the Lightning Mare hadn’t stopped using her head as a bass drum.

Velvet blinked. “What is she doing?!” 

“I dunno, the latest fad cure for migraines?!” Daring said as she cantered up the stairs. “I just don’t want to stick around and become a lawn ornament!”

Velvet took one step backward, one look at Daring, then another look back at the Lightning Mare. Her hooves grew cold, both from the temperature and from the sweat evaporating from her fur.

“Engaging X-Ray!” Velvet’s ears twitched at a distant stallion’s voice. 

One loud thunk rang out, followed by a small explosion enveloping the Lightning Mare. The boom silenced her cry, but the fireball failed to snuff out her aura. Velvet’s breath quickened again as she took two more steps backward. The Lightning Mare’s electric aura was rekindling. 

“X-Ray is not down! Repeat, X-Ray is not down! Cyclone Sword, cover me—”

The Lightning Mare spun around. The dust cloud dissipated. Her hailstones had found themselves a new target.

“Equestria to Twilight!” Daring snapped, and Velvet in turn snapped her eyes to Daring’s direction. “Do you want to get out of here, or do you want to be a clay pigeon?”

As Velvet followed Daring up the stairs, screams—both from the Lightning Mare and from her victims—echoed from outside and into her ears.





Two flights of stairs later, the Daring Duo found themselves in front of a hatch. While Daring lifted the hatch ajar and peered out through the space, Twilight Velvet’s ears folded. Rumbles, gunfire, and shouts seeped from outside and bounced around the halls, and a crack at the wall a few yards away flashed every so often. “Never thought I’d say this—” Velvet wiped cold sweat from her brow “—but I hope the mercs win this one. ‘Gentle,’ my ass.”

“I don’t want to hear about your ass. I wouldn’t discount the buffalo’s words just yet.” Daring took her helmet off and scratched her frazzled mane. She then propped the hatch open with the brim of her helmet before turning to Velvet. “The Lightning Mare did stop attacking us for a few seconds.”

“Ah, I understand now!” scoffed Velvet. “Dear Princess Celestia, Today I learned that if I shoot ponies, I can still be kind as long as I give them water breaks!”

The teacher smacked her student.

“Hush now.” Daring’s hoof pointed at the darkness outside the hatch as her grumble transformed into a whisper. Velvet opened her mouth, but stopped herself when the sound of hoofsteps drifted into her ears. “Besides, that wasn’t what I meant. I— never mind. We’ll talk about it later.”

Daring scooted over and gestured Velvet to join her in peeping. Bracing both front hooves at the hatch’s frame, Velvet complied. It was odd, transitioning from blazing light to near darkness, but thanks to the red strobing emergency lights, it didn’t take long for her eyes to adjust. There wasn’t much to say about what was on the right: just a railing overlooking a maze of girders and trusses. It was what was ahead of them, on another platform, that provided the real intel. 

Four emergency seaplanes stood in a row from left the right, their noses pointing towards a blank wall of canvas. Closer inspection revealed tracks that the canvas could retract on, likely a mechanized panel. Several mercs buzzed about, servicing the planes or keeping watch. A diamond dog walked away from the Daring Duo’s direction, crossing a bridge connecting their platform to the mercs’. Snaking along his path was a bundle of four wires. They originated from a console just to the left of Velvet’s vantage point, bolted to a metal column where a giant spool of heavy-duty cable sat. From there, they branched out to four floodlights highlighting the asses of each plane. Velvet stroked her chin and grinned. Tech…finally she was in her element.

The silhouette of an earth pony mare turned to the diamond dog. “Damage report?”

“Everything’s in order,” the diamond dog called out, “the console’s fine. That last lightning strike didn’t short it out.”

“Good.” The earth pony looked left and cupped one hoof to her mouth. “You heard him, Kettle! Get Nightingale Five warmed up!” She then sat down and lit a cigarette, hanging her head down.

The diamond dog circled the commander and put a paw on her shoulder. “The flyers will get the situation outside sorted out.”

“Ha!” The commander waved him off. “I don’t know whether to salute them for volunteering to go out there or slap them upside the head. This shit is worse than an Everfree Forest squall. The most they can do is cover our escape…” She took a drag before blowing the smoke out slowly, rubbing the side of her head. “…and hopefully Sleet’s.”

A more masculine voice chimed in from the other side of the platform. “Yeah, don’t think she’s joining us anytime soon. Last I heard, she’s staying behind to get the ship to port.”

“Yet we don’t join in on the fun. Wish I got assigned to her skeleton crew.”

Velvet’s eyes widened at the new voice, and she muffled a light gasp. That mare’s flat contralto tone was unmistakable. 

Another stallion butted in with an unamused chortle. “You want to stay behind and get turned to stone, Nightshade? You’re crazier than I thought.”

Daring studied Velvet’s expression, her eyebrow raising a tad. “Friend of yours?” 

Velvet nodded as her forelegs tensed.  “We can take her and her posse on, though.” Her eyes narrowed at a plane just behind the first stallion. “How’s that for our ticket outta here?”

Daring shook her head. “Seaplanes all shot to hell don’t fly too good.”

Velvet gave her shoulder a condescending pat. “Then shoot more carefully.”

Daring growled and recoiled from Velvet’s offending hoof.

Their conversation was interrupted by a whirring propeller. Flinching, they peered back through the hatch. 

“Nightingale Five ready for launch!” the masculine voice from the other side of the platform called out.

The earth pony mare stood up and gestured towards the stallion’s direction. “First batch, get inside!”

Several mercs barked out orders at one of the planes. Velvet and Daring flinched. The propeller disappeared into a blur as part of the airship’s reinforced canvas swung open. In almost no time at all, the plane launched off the platform and disappeared into the thunderstorm. “If that last plane takes off,” Velvet hissed, “that doesn’t leave me with anything more than a flapping Bat-Mare cape knock-off!” 

Daring shook her head. “Best to head to the crew loading area. There’s bound to be planes there.”

“For all we know they’ve got nothing left but fueling hoses! What if there’s no planes left?” Velvet tried to keep the rising panic out of her voice. Velvet pointed to their three remaining avenues of escape. “This is a sure thing! Why waste our chance?” 

Daring gritted her teeth and made no reply.

Gunshots interrupted her.

Bullets bounced off the hatch’s heavy-duty metal. Red-hot shrapnel spattered at Velvet’s foreleg. She yanked her hoof back with a yelp while Daring drew her rifle. “Eyes on operation targets!” a third mare’s voice echoed from afar.

“Crap! Vel, tell me where she is!”

Facing the launching platform and holding the hatch ajar, Velvet sent a small spark from her horn to the metal grating. A tracer ricocheted from right to left, eliminating the decoy.

“Three…four o’clock?!” Velvet shrugged. “Sorry, can’t tell from here!”

Daring plucked her helmet, braced one hoof under the hatch, and growled. “That’s all the info I need.”

The hatch swung open. 

Daring sprang up. Two quick bursts from her rifle silenced the spotter. 

The pegasus merc tumbled over the catwalk from above and slammed into several beams before her body punctured the airship’s fabric, falling into the tempest below. Clangs resounded through the airship, echoing through the empty chamber.

One merc’s gunfire was replaced by twenty breaking the silence. Velvet and Daring took cover.  Lead snapped through the air over their heads as Daring started back down the stairs. “Nope. Nope! Like I was saying—”

Brilliant orange, then a boom, blinded and deafened the Daring Duo. A couple of seconds later, Velvet shook her head as her senses returned. Her hooves reflexively wiped her face. Why was she sweating? Why was there still a yellow-orange glow at the bottom of the stairs?

The flames and wreckage at the landing answered these questions.

Daring scampered back, covering her snout with her hoof and suppressing a cough. Smoke billowed towards her and her protegee. At least the mercs had stopped firing. Chatter about whether the X-Ray had finished the job for them emanated from Daring’s radio. Daring hugged her rifle. “Fuck me, we’re trapped between a red-hot anvil and an overcompensating hammer!” 

Velvet brushed some detritus from her coat, coughing before grimacing at her tail. It was rather singed…again. “Well, at least you’re talking to one hot mare!”

“Well, does the hot mare have any ideas, or is she just a bunch of hot air?!”

Struggling to stifle another cough, Velvet looked around before glancing upwards. The flickering green lights of the electronics console from earlier glinted off of Velvet’s eyes.

“Maybe.” She pushed Daring’s rifle against her chest. “You make use of this. I’ll draw their fire.”

Daring’s brows furrowed. “You’ll what?! Have you been snorting exhaust?!”

Rearing up behind the hatch, Velvet looked over her shoulder.  “Find a good vantage point and cover me so I can work my magic.” She pointed a hoof overhead. “Get in those crisscrossing trusses or something!”

Velvet drew in a deep breath as she eyed the console.  It was her turn to pop out and face the bullets.

Shit, I hate this plan already! Ugh, here goes!

Velvet sprang out the hatch. Bullets traced her trajectory. Diving beneath the cover of the giant spool, she failed to break her speed soon enough and collided with the column, her breath bursting out. 

“Dammit!” One of the mercs cried from somewhere above her. “First the X-Ray and now this bitch?!” 

Her back hugging against the cable, Velvet ducked under the console. More bursts of bullets pinged around her. 

“Cutter! Take Tungsten with you and flank her!” said the earth pony mare.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Daring brought her rifle out. Her eyes following the unmistakable tracers, the golden angel of death took flight.  

Daring’s rifle barked from its owner’s hip as it spat out casings, spilling into the black void below. Daring came to a hover behind the wide, metal column, holding her position several yards above Velvet while her protegee gaped up at her. “Eyes on your work, screwhead!” she yelled in response.

Right, right! Magic! 

A cerise cloud tore the circuit breakers off the console. Before the lights could fade, Velvet sustained them with electricity of her own, narrowing her eyes and tapping her chin.

Uh…um…I haven’t thought this far ahead. What kind of magic?

Two bullets pelted the column above her. Velvet jumped backwards, then dove back under cover when a few more bullets nearly found their mark. Night Light wouldn’t want to see any part of her luscious flanks perforated. 

Daring’s rifle clapped. Velvet’s tail curled near her body before a fallen griffon could crush it. As the metal grate floor rattled, Velvet’s eyes darted to the griffon, then back to the panel.

“Shit! Shit! Overload! Let’s do the simple overload!” Velvet grunted and grit her teeth. One of the blue, sparking streams surged and crackled. “They’re just lights! No need to overcomplicate it!”

A wire snapped. It flung itself off the console. After shielding her eyes from the sparks, Velvet traced a pulsing blue light snaking inside the wire. Her angry little electric friend skittered towards the fiends. They were none the wiser; most of them were too distracted by the greater threat in front of them. 

“Vel, what the hell are you doing?!” Daring shouted from above, her own little angry friend making short work of a unicorn near a plane. An Earth pony dove to the floor and straightened out the bipod of his machine gun. Daring whipped back behind the column, the air to her left filling with lead. “Was this your brilliant plan: single-player dodgeball to sudden death while you—” 

Consummating its approach, Velvet’s angry friend disappeared inside a floodlight. Velvet slammed her eyes shut and flinched, but a white blob lingered in her vision. An explosion, followed by the sounds of shattering glass and cries of pain, saturated the air. 

Daring watched the machine gunner roll to his side, grabbing at his thigh. “Agh, dammit! Pull back, pull back! Anypony who’s wounded, get to Nightingale Four! Everypony else, regroup on me!”

Daring glanced at the mercs, then at Velvet, who crossed her hooves and smirked. 

“You were saying?”

Daring only gave a small smile before nodding. She took potshots at the scrambling mercs while Velvet went on.

”What was that? ‘Brilliant plan?’ Why thank you, it was rather brilliant if I do say so myself. I was actually on top of the situation the whol-ly crap! Behind you!”

Two pegasi popped out from behind a girder. Daring glanced behind as Velvet charged her horn. One bit a bullet from Daring’s rifle; the other bit several hundred milliamps of bio-aetheric electricity.

There was a third flyer. 

Phasing out of the shadows, a griffon grappled Daring’s stunned form from behind. One talon hooked Daring’s cheek; the other reached her neck. Daring’s left hoof trembled, the griffon’s talons close to her carotid. Daring’s right foreleg, trapped by the griffon’s elbow, pawed for her trowel. A flash of lightning revealed a thin trickle of blood from Daring’s lip. Velvet pranced in place. Her forelegs dripped with sweat. This wasn't like the train. It was dark, and the whole room was shaking. A sure shot was far less likely.

Daring’s hoof touched the trowel. An agonized hack sputtered from her mouth as she whipped it out. Three stabs to the ribs and a full-on hind hoof blast later, the griffon rebounded off of a column. Daring gasped and coughed, then spun around. 

Velvet’s bolt beat her to it…and more.

The electric spell raced up the metal column and across a nearby catwalk. The light show cascaded into four mercs taking aim from the shadows. One of their convulsing bodies joined the griffon’s, tearing holes at the airship’s bottom hull. 





Daring scratched at her mane, the soft smile on her face again. 

“What can I say”—Velvet beamed and puffed her chest—“I am the Lightning Mare too!”

Bullets spat at Daring from the plane platform. “Well, Lightning Mare 2.0, you’ve got some catching up to even the score with your prototype!” Daring flinched, returning to the column. “Let 'er rip!”

“You got it!”

Velvet twirled back to the console.

That would be the last time she would see it.

Brilliant coruscating blue flooded her vision from behind. Velvet ducked and covered her head with her hooves. A deafening boom rattled her core. A new sound, that of screeching, grinding metal, made her wonder why she ever left the ground in the first place.  

The whole airship shook, trusses and girders popping free and spiraling loose. A section of catwalk smashed the railing that had once separated Velvet from Daring. As for the mercs, nopony had the luxury of aiming their weapons; they were too busy running and dodging the falling debris.

Daring swerved left. A cable came loose and whipped the air beside her wing. “Sounds like somepony didn’t take kindly to getting their thunder stolen!” Daring said, her primary feathers ruffling.

“Oh, hah hah!” Velvet complained, cantering towards Daring’s position, but then hit the brakes. 

Another cable slashed down. Velvet jumped back. A crunch echoed to Velvet’s left. As the cable sank to the abyss, so did Velvet’s heart.

The cable bisected the bridge—and the wires crossing it. Velvet’s toys were trashed.

Daring spoke up. “What do you think I’m gonna—At your six!”

Velvet looked back. Daring’s quick trigger hoof took down a merc descending on a nearby staircase. As his body tumbled to the foot of the stairs, a cylindrical grenade rolled out his hoof, coming to rest in the splash of a strobing emergency light.

The label read “K-1 THUNDERHEAD” on the side. Velvet stepped back. Her legs twitched. 

A snap echoed over the groaning metal. Something stung Velvet’s hind leg.

“I gotcha, Vel!”

Velvet yelped as Daring yanked her pet’s leash. Velvet’s legs left the platform, and her world went spinning. The thunderhead grenade detonated. A gray cloud filled with raging magenta sparks surged all over the metal floor. It would’ve made for a cool new magi-tech toy to tinker with.

Velvet’s appreciation was cut short by all of the blood rushing to her head.

“Fuuuuuuck!” the fancy Canterlot pendulum weight put eloquently. “Put me down!”

Daring grunted. The whip jerked in the direction Velvet requested.

“Not here!”

“S-sorry!” grunted Daring. Velvet could feel Daring’s pegasus magic channel down her whip and squeeze her leg. The wind whipped through Velvet’s ears as centrifugal force drifted her body outward. “Can’t…hold it…longer!”

At Daring’s last word, the whip unfurled. Tossed counterclockwise, Velvet waved her hooves in the air, screaming all the way until she landed on a platform. Her eyelid crooked open. There was a propeller in front of her. To her left, its owner, a crumpled seaplane with a beam mounting it, hid Velvet from the scrambling mercs at the other side.

"I’m at the launch platform! Now I can—"

Lightning shot down her plane of thought.

“Some fucking restraint, please!” Velvet raged against the heavens and curled to a ball.

Sparks rained on the platform. Screeching metal drowned out the merc’s cries to “hit the deck.” A girder came loose. Velvet turned away as the whole platform shook, the crash rattling her facial bones.

“Nightingale Three is down!” a mercenary’s voice cracked. “There’s only one plane left!”

"Oh come on! What next!" Velvet pounded her hoof on the floor, wiped her face, and rolled on her back. Judging by the two pairs of wings opening and closing from behind a column, her superior wasn’t taking messages at the moment. “Much more of this, I’m gonna inject cheese into my veins.”

Just as Velvet stood up, a familiar face jumped out from behind the train.

Familiar, but not friendly.

Velvet snorted, then cracked her neck. Both unicorns adopted quadrupedal stances and glared into each other’s eyes. “Ready for a rematch, Nightshade?”

The charcoal-gray unicorn merely replied with a glare, pawing the floor with a hoof.

Three brilliant blue bolts of electricity shot out from Velvet’s horn. If it worked last time, it’d work this time, right?

Nightshade conjured three swirling disks of a blackish void. Velvet’s electric bolts passed through without a trace.

Velvet blinked. Where did—

Another three disks spiraled into existence at Velvet’s sides. Her projectiles came back. 

Shadow portals?! One of her own energy bolts sailed past as Velvet staggered to the side. The bolt almost grazed her wingsuit. She then leapt in a twisting jump. The second and third bolts as they crackled beneath her, crisscrossing just under her barrel. After demonstrating the finesse of a flying sponge cake, Velvet came to a landing, nearly turning a hoof. 

She’s been practicing! Her eyes met her opponent’s haughty stare. Velvet’s horn rushed to surge power. “What kind of black magic bull did you—”

A solid shadow wall blasted Velvet off her hooves. All the air escaped her lungs. A larger puff followed suit when her back collided with something large behind her.

Something large and furry.

Two brindle-coated arms tightened around Velvet's chest and forelegs. If that didn't clue her in on her next partner in this tango, the growl next to her ear did.

Velvet thrashed, but her only reward was a tighter hug. Nightshade’s expression hadn’t changed, though she was changing weapons. The mercenary’s gray submachine gun and its wielder jabbed at Velvet with their combined cold gaze. 

“You lose.”

Two shots rang out.

Somepony’s body slumped to the ground.

Velvet’s eyes slammed shut.

Then one eye creaked open. Nightshade writhed on the floor, clutching her stomach. Velvet’s mentor had saved her custard once again.

As Daring returned to shooting mercs at the other side of the wrecked plane, Velvet gave the diamond dog a crooked smile. Her horn glowed purple and sparked blue. The diamond dog yelped. His victim slipped out of his grasp as he clutched his headset. A tinge of white noise rang in Velvet’s ears, but that was nothing compared to the auditory assault her assailant experienced. "How's that feel?!"

Once Velvet’s four hooves met the deck, she scurried several yards forward. Two mercs climbed the last plane, guns in their hooves, but Daring put them down with two bursts. She lined her AK at the last target—Velvet’s former aggressor. 

Click.

Velvet and the diamond dog jerked their heads in Daring’s direction. The rifle hanging from its strap, Daring drew her whip and flew closer to the diamond dog. Two cracks echoed as Velvet gritted her teeth, faced the diamond dog, and grunted.

Nothing came out of her horn.

She grunted again. But her horn gave little more than a sputter.

Shit, I spent too much magic! Why’d I think that overload was a good idea?

Velvet pranced in place, darting her head around. “Gotta…hmm…” Her eyes chanced upon Nightshade’s submachine gun. First time for everything, right?

She grunted before freeing it from under its former owner’s body. Her hind legs trembled a bit as she reared up and tried to assume the stance she’d so often seen Daring take, leaning forward and inching her hind hooves apart. “Right, uh…”

A gunshot rang out. Daring’s whip had ceased snapping. Velvet spun around.

Hissing through the cuts on his arms, the diamond dog barked, baring his teeth. One paw snagged the business end of Daring’s whip. The other paw lowered his magnum, still breathing out smoke. Daring’s right wing flapped awkwardly, blood streaming from its edge. "Whoa!" Velvet fumbled around her own gun. Time to rehearse, for Celestia’s sake!

The diamond dog cocked back the hammer of his magnum and smirked. 

After a pause, the pitter-patter of pistol rounds perforated the puppy.

It was over in only three seconds, but Velvet felt like she held the trigger for three hours. Metallic smoke, not unlike one from magic solder, entered her nostrils. As the diamond dog collapsed and Daring Do retrieved her whip, deep breaths escaped her open mouth. Several seconds passed before Velvet’s front hooves stopped trembling.

Her guardian landed next to the diamond dog’s corpse. Assuming a bipedal stance, she lowered Velvet’s gun with a front hoof. “You ought to bend your hocks a little bit more—” her eyes drifted down to Velvet’s hind legs “—but…you did good, kid..”

Velvet’s chest still hadn’t relaxed, but her breathing started to slow 

“For now, though…” Daring reached out gently tugging the weapon free of Velvet’s hooves.  “…I think I’ll handle the majority of the shooting.”

Without the submachine gun to keep her front hooves occupied, Velvet dropped to four legs. “You’ll still give me a proper lesson on this, r-right?” Velvet forced a smile as best she could. 

Looping the  submachine gun’s strap around her own chest, Daring walked to Velvet’s side, cutting off her view of the fallen diamond dog. She gave Velvet a bracing smile.  “Maybe once we get back to Equestria. Once you’re better acclimated, I’ll take you to Derringer’s range. It’ll be like…a big sister taking her little sister out for ice cream.”

A groan from behind caused Velvet’s ears to twitch.

Daring drew her gun.

A shadow portal swirled beneath Nightshade, swallowing her whole. Before the Daring Duo could even so much as peer into where it led, the portal spiraled into oblivion. Velvet’s mouth hung open. “Where did she—”

From the far end of the platform, an engine buzzed to life. Daring and Velvet galloped around the wrecked plane. They arrived in time to catch the backwash of Nightingale Four’s prop as the plane slipped off the edge of the platform. Wind tousling her mane, Velvet slammed a hoof into the deck. There were four mercs in the passenger cabin, one of whom clutched her stomach. The charcoal-gray unicorn turned and made an obscene gesture, promising to somehow meet later and even the score. 

The plane disappeared into the storm.

“So!” Daring rubbed her forehooves together with a half-frustrated-half-sardonic grin. “Shall we retire to the crew loading area?”

“Don’t rub it in, you bastard.” Velvet elbowed Daring. “My plan would’ve worked perfectly if it weren’t for Miss Gentle.”

A cascade of thunderbolts and lightning danced at the stern. Velvet sucked in a breath.

“Just stop!” Velvet’s voice cracked. “What’s your problem?!”

“Um. Resistance is futile?”

Velvet gaped at her mentor. “Was… that an electricity pun?”

Daring turned and trotted forward.

“Admit it!” Velvet hissed. “That was an... atrocious electricity pun! That’s my job!”

Another clap of thunder caused Velvet to follow Daring to the catwalk. It’d be best not to loiter.





After the door slammed behind the Daring Duo, the muffled, now-too-familiar sounds of crashing thunder and metal lingered, diffusing through the walls. Daring Do braced the door with her hooves, while Velvet leaned on a crate taller than she was, catching her breath and moaning from the adrenaline.

“Good…good cardio, eh?” panted out Daring. 

“Maybe for you! My muscles are screaming!” Velvet coughed, trying to catch her breath. She turned herself to the side, drawing in her belly. “Much more of this and Night Light’s not gonna have any pillow to sleep on.”

The thunderous cacophony behind them died down, replaced by the cracking of distant gunfire. The sounds of mercenaries ordering flanking maneuvers around the Lightning Mare crackled from Daring’s radio. Velvet’s line of sight drifted out the window to her right. A flash at the upper edge made Velvet shrink away from the window. When the X-Ray’s yellow glow faded from Velvet’s vision, she sat on the floor, straightening the back of her mane. The stress escaped from her hooves and dissipated into the atmosphere. Meanwhile, not caring about her mane, Daring got off the door and scoped the room they were in.

The previous shockwaves did a number on the crew loading area. To Velvet’s left were more crates, much smaller than the one Velvet had rested on. Everything that wasn’t bolted down lay scattered across the floor—in this case, everything except a nearby table and a post with mooring rope loosely coiled around it. 

“What did you mean when you said that the bison were right because the Lightning Mare gave us breaks?”

“Remember when her aura almost went out and she was beating her head with her hooves?” Daring mimed the Lightning Mare’s previous action while Velvet fixed a stray lock of mane with her magic. “Something tells me there’s a part of her that doesn’t like zapping ponies from the sky.”

“Huh.” Velvet crossed her forelegs. “In that case, why would the mercs want the Spectrum? Who wants to end up as a bipolar wreck with the mentality of an electric eel?”

“I dunno. Maybe they’re drunk on power? Maybe they haven’t connected the dots? Maybe they have some kind of weird magic failsafe to keep their sanity?” Daring then shook her head and then extended a hoof at Velvet. “Right, let’s focus on the task at hoof. Up and at ‘em, Cream Puff, before the Lightning Mare decides she likes her airships less al dente and more well-done.” 

After Velvet took Daring’s hoof, she followed her to the center of the room. Before Velvet could comment on what had been hidden from her view moments prior, Daring elbowed her in the ribs. 

“See? Told you there’d be at least one plane here.”

On the other side of a plexiglass window, the seaplane teetered on a metal grating platform. The ropes holding it in place flapped in the tempest outside. Velvet could recognize any aetheric booster, even if it was hidden inside a conical cap at the tail, but a bonafide pilot, she was not. The only planes Velvet knew how to actually fly were entirely made of paper. 

“Ah, an AS-18n Nautilus! Flying that’s gonna be foal’s play!” Velvet forced a toothy grin. “Compared to Evy, this is a tricycle!”

Daring only gave her a blank look.

“Well, I’ll admit: the planes are new.” Velvet hoped her forehead wasn’t showing any extra perspiration. “They weren’t in the prototype version of the airship—aka, the one I wrote an article about. That one used drop capsules.” Avoiding her friend’s scrutinizing glare, Velvet turned and gazed back out the window at the plane. “But the way I heard it, Fetlock Maretin did try to simplify the whole flying process. Any Flight School dropout could take the wheel.”

“...The way you heard it?” Daring blew a tuft of her mane off her face. “I’m brimming with reassurance. Let’s hope you’re certified for that wingsuit—or any wingsuit.”

Velvet’s silence was as deafening as the thunder.

“Don’t tell me…”.

“It’s a proto-hobby, okay?” Velvet expostulated. “I’ve done hours of reading, some wind tunnel practice, and one test flight. Does that count?” 

Daring bit her lip. “That’s it, I’m driving.”

Velvet folded her ears as her hoof came to rest on a doorknob. “Oh, that reminds me. I have to get—”

Daring spun around. Her quick trigger hoof interrupted Velvet and the mercenary aiming from behind. 

“Cover!” Daring barked, rushing behind a crate. Velvet dove to follow. Daring raised up to peek, only to  bury her face back into her body as bullets brushed against her helmet. “Flank him! Just don’t get too close—this earth pony is more earth than pony! I’ll distract them!”

“‘More earth than—’ what does that even mean?!”

“Just go!”

Velvet gave a rapid nod and crouched. As soon as Daring and her opponent started exchanging fire, Velvet shadowed from one box to another. The second, larger crate gave her a better angle of attack box. Her horn snapped and sputtered. Alright, who’s the next lucky bitch to make a shocking discovery?

A heavyset, grayish-brown figure crossed Velvet’s vision. Daring’s opponent flew through the air. A new combatant made a grand entrance with her headbutt.

"River Rapids?!" Velvet blinked. Her spell fizzled into the aether. 

The earth pony sat up, growling as he rolled behind cover. 

“Fuze, just stop and think!” a familiar voice said. “Forget these two—we’re about to go down in a ball of fire. Let’s just get to the plane!”

“We still have a mission!” Fuze snarled. “You know the oaths you took!”  A click reached Velvet’s ears as Rapids leaned back, raising her forelegs over her head.

“I’ve been with Volt ever since she toppled Slam Fire and in all this time, I’ve never seen a sister turn on us.” Fuze seethed. “But you…I figured you were a loose cannon ever since day one.”

Daring and Velvet stood up and stared at each other. Maybe they could circle round and take Fuze down?

The UK-2642’s structural integrity had other ideas.

A static-filled shout shook everypony’s eardrums, much closer than before. Blue lightning burst through the airship under them. The floor warped, buckled, and then broke. Metallic groans and roars underlined a sudden drop, as Velvet and Rapids were both thrown to the side. The box in front of Velvet’s eyes shifted to the left. 

The wall became the floor. The crew loading area snapped in half.

Four thumps reverberated across the broken floor and up Velvet’s ears. Wood creaked and splintered underneath. As Velvet and Rapids struggled to right themselves, the former clutched her sore shoulder and stared upwards. Gravity had relieved Fuze’s weapons, and the earth pony was left clinging to the table bolted to the floor. A gap, exposing steel and wire, bisected the ceiling, while only a few twisted beams kept one half of the room from jettisoning itself. Their groans of pain, however, told Velvet they were losing their battle.

Metallic twangs and snaps reached Velvet’s ears. She stood up, avoiding a growing hairline crack on what was now the floor before looking at the direction of the noises. Above her, the seaplane’s tail swung upwards. Through the undertone of the tempest, the faint rumbling of the plane’s wheels caused Velvet’s jaw to drop.

“Wait! No no no no— Celestia damn it!”

The escape plane escaped from its would-be passengers. It taunted Velvet with a front flip and a shimmy before disappearing into a cloud.

Daring swooped down from the half of the room that wasn’t about to snap off, one end of the mooring rope on her hoof. “Come on!” Her voice nearly cracked. “Let’s get this tied around you before it's too late!”

A devilish crackling filled the heavens. The ambient power rumbled from Velvet’s horn and down to her facial bones. Blinding light cast scintillating shadows through the downpour streaming in from the shattered windows. Surging upwards on an updraft, the Lightning Mare glared at the occupants of the wrecked room. Velvet had only touched the rope with the tip of her hoof when arcs sputtered from the Lightning Mare’s eyes.

“Rapids, don’t look at—” 

Rainbow lightning engulfed the room, centering towards Fuze. Splinters and sparks tossed in the air. The bolted table came loose. The table’s wooden sheen dulled to a flat gray before it and Fuze’s frozen fulgurite forms fell only a few inches, landing on a pile of crates. 

But the wall and room could take no more.

A loud crash heralded Velvet’s first foray into involuntary skydiving.

Velvet screamed with all of her might, but the gales of the storm proved much louder. Raindrops pelted her all around. The Lightning Mare disappeared behind the shrinking airship, her trail of sparks leaving an afterimage on Velvet’s retinas. Two dots in the distance—Fuze’s statue and Rapids’ thrashing body—disappeared inside a swirling vortex. Gravity and wind collaborated to toss Velvet’s head and body in every direction. Blood rushed in and out of her brain; her vision darkened at the edges.

 "Crap crap crap! Why can’t I…ugh…uh…stabilize my...my…"

“Gotcha!”

Daring’s voice punctuated her firm grasp on Velvet’s hoof. Color flooded back to Velvet’s world. Velvet jerked her neck upwards to catch a watering eye on her savior. Daring’s hooves reddened—the left one, from holding Velvet; the right one, from the rope burn.

Velvet traced the mooring rope from Daring’s hoof to the airship. From the holes on its hull, she could see flashes of light and arcs of electricity snake through the clouds. As the inevitable thunder rolled in, Velvet folded her ears and looked down.

Lights…city lights! Maybe they could make it after all.	Velvet’s other hoof reached for the rope.

An orange lightning bolt cut across her view—and two of the airship’s engines. The air around its hull breaches warped. Flames licked up the top surface, and raging red and magenta sparks slithered across the fabric.

“Fucking hell!”

Warm colors painted the sky. Flames, debris, and even flaming debris catapulted away from the explosion. 

Daring gritted her teeth. “HANG ON!”

The shockwave traveled down the rope, whipping Velvet from Daring’s grasp. Both mares reached for each other, their faces contorted. An updraft snatched the golden angel and tossed her thrashing body into a cloud.

Tears streamed from Velvet’s eyes and joined her in free fall. 

She shook her head, blinked, and twisted her body to face the ground. She wasn’t done just yet.

“I’ve got to stop this spin before I lose my ball bearings again!”

Velvet slid her hooves down her torso. The hooks on her jacket’s sleeves clicked. She stretched out her forelegs and arched her back. It took a while—the lightning and rain were already behind her—but eventually, her spin was on its way to leveling out.

Mostly.

She kept on having to drop her right hoof while pulling her flank to the left, just to maintain a mostly direct line. Velvet’s ears picked up the sound of straining fabric, and she risked a glance to the side to investigate where the hooks met the canvas. It was only a prototype, after all. Not for general use. 

“Dammit, that’s not gonna hold forever.”

Velvet cast a cloudwalking spell on her artificial wings. She felt her fall begin to slow, but overall, it was a band-aid over a second-degree burn. She was still falling too fast. I’ll need to find a parachute before I end up like Neighcarus and prove Daring right!

Celestia must’ve been listening. A white T-shaped object spiraled to her right. Various crates and other obstacles tumbled in the distance, but Velvet only had eyes for the seaplane. She angled her forelegs backward and straightened herself. She was probably breaking some cardinal rule of skydiving: hurtling towards falling debris. But when was she ever known for playing things by the book? Exhibit A: her wingsuit. 

The seaplane had seen better days. Paint was stripped off, and bits of the skeleton poked out of the aluminum skin. It seemed to be falling slower than it should be. Some kind of derived passive pegasus power? If only she knew how to extract that.

This plane would make for a great article…if she could live long enough to write it. It didn’t seem airworthy anymore, though. The tail fin looked like it had fallen victim to a hungry roc. 

There could be something in the boxes surrounding it, though!

The speeding pony snagged a box with her telekinesis. After swerving away from a falling piece of rebar, Velvet licked her lips. Her magic made short work of the latches.

“Nothing. Of course!”

Angling her left foreleg downward, she spiraled to another box. Once again, the latches were no match for her magic. “Another box. Oh, thank you Celestia!” 

Celestia was a playful mistress.

“Cola?! Wha… Buh… Oh, screw you, Celestia!”

She swatted the box away, resisting the urge to cross her forelegs. “For fuck's sake, what do you want from me?!”

A crashing sound caused her to jerk her head—and wings—right. Flaming wreckage crushed the plane, the debris adding to Velvet’s ever growing list of Random Falling Shit. She struggled to regain her bearings as she tucked her head into her wings. Successfully veering away from a scorching hot something, she managed to bank left. A seat spun away, crossing her vision. Velvet’s eyes tracked it, then widened.

Wait, there’s a parachute on its back!

Velvet drew her hooves close to her body. The wind howled louder, and tears escaped her eyes. The seat drew close, but so did the ground. An imaginary timer in the back of her mind showed the second hand creeping ever closer to the red zone.

Her horn lit. She spread her arms. The parachute slipped off the seat.

Velvet twisted her body to put on the chute. It clung to her jacket and wingsuit, and she had to squint through her mane just to make sure the hooks on her suit didn’t catch the parachute straps. The thunderclouds were far above her—merely flashes in the thick cloud.

She didn’t mind the wind anymore. That honor went to the sudden stop at the end.

And there! Parachute’s on! Now I have to—

The trees were beginning to wave hello.

“Damn it! I’m too low! Uh…any place to pull the chute?”

The trees lined the edge of a cliff. Velvet rolled the dice. If she could pull up, just enough to clear the treeline, she’d have ample spacing to deploy her chute and drop into the valley beyond. 

That is, if the valley was deep enough to allow it and she wasn’t just prolonging the inevitable. 

Adrenaline—and the sight of the trees below—yelled at Velvet to tense her muscles. 

Fighting her instincts, Velvet allowed her forelegs to spread wide. She sucked in a long breath, wind howling in her ears. The fabric fluttered, and her vector changed.

“Almost got it... almost!”

Leafy branches waited to flay the flesh from her bones. A lancing pain shot up her back hoof, no thanks to a nearby twig. But Velvet’s line finally flattened enough to gain a few feet of altitude. She angled her wings up and climbed. The wind’s howls faded as airspeed bled out.

The treeline was behind her. She was at the top of the climb now.

Velvet jerked her chest backward. Her hoof reached across her shoulder and gripped the cord handle.

Fabric whistled from behind. 

As the parachute billowed, her hooves snatched the handles. A puff of air escaped her mouth as Velvet’s legs dangled over the forest canopy. The chute deployment gave Velvet a few more feet of elevation, but her descent would offset that soon enough.

Now she could give the adrenaline full reign.

“YEEAAAAAAGHHHH!” 

Velvet’s battle cry produced a pressing chest pain, but it hardly registered in her mind. A primal mixture of laughing, crying, and blubbering then escaped from her mouth. Tears streamed down her aching face.  Exhilarating didn’t even begin to cover it.

“That was… I can’t even begin to say! How many y’all ‘low pull’ broodmares can say you jumped out of an exploding aircraft without a parachute, and then made a near-pass wingsuit stunt at the same time?!”

Velvet looked back up at the clouds. The UK-2642’s aetheric fireball lingered in the air, the occasional bit of flaming debris raining onto the forest like a meteor shower. Multi-colored bolts streaked through a cloud near the fireball. In response to those, Velvet could only sigh. 

“…a-actually, this bad filly just had her fill of excitement for one day.”

After several deep, cleansing breaths, Velvet studied the forest. It wouldn’t do to make that kind of daring escape, only to get hopelessly strung up in a tree.

A small fire at the right directed Velvet’s attention to a clearing on a hill. Seemed like a good place to land. Making small corrections in her glide path and after bleeding off the extra altitude, Velvet waved her hind hooves over the grass.

The landing wasn’t the slick roll she had in mind—more like a grimy wet rag falling before a larger, less wet rag. Once the parachute crumbled behind her, she allowed it to slide off her back and folded her wings back using her magnets. That done, she fell prostrate on the mud. “G-g-ground! Sweet, precious ground!” Velvet resisted the urge to kiss the soil. 

Telekinesis dragged the parachute behind her. Her hooves, meanwhile, dragged the rest of her heavy, shivering body under the shelter of a nearby rock. Sprawling the parachute fabric, she crawled on her makeshift blanket and curled up under the rock. A nearby piece of burning wreckage-turned-campfire resisted the drizzle starting to form…even if the smell of fuel caused her nose to wrinkle.

Her negative-five-star suite offered quite the vista. The fireball from the airship’s explosion was almost gone; the Mare in the Moon would soon be the only major light source in the early evening sky. Orange and purple flames tailed almost all the falling wreckage, the air around them visibly warping even from the distance. Oddly enough, the soft rumbling of thunder helped eased Velvet out of the adrenaline high. 

The city was still visible from the hill, so at least she wasn’t totally lost.

“So, let’s recap,” Velvet panted out. “First mercenaries, now friggin’ monsters are trying to kill me. I had to bail out of a disintegrating aircraft during a storm. Everypony I knew up there is missing, wants to kill me, or both.”

Her eyes scoped the landscape. The only discernible landmarks were a rice field in the distance and the city beyond it. Behind her was the cliffside that lined the valley she had fallen in. Larger mountains stood miles further in the distance, but other than that, it was mostly trees and forest. 

“…and now I’m stuck in the middle of a third-world shithole without my m-mentor.” 

Velvet’s ears drooped. She could still remember the urgency on Daring’s face. ‘Hang on!’ Echoes of that scream echoed in her mind. She’ll be back…right?

Seeking something to get her mind off of the last two minutes, Velvet used her magic to remove the saddlebags from her back. She engaged a flashlight spell and poked her hoof into the flap—and the duct tape—as her grumbling monologue continued. Part of her wanted to bury her face into her hooves. “Next thing I know, the artifact isn’t going to be here. It’s lost forever under the Luna Oceans. I wasted three to four days of my life, killed dozens of ponies, and jeopardized my relationship with Night Light for nothing.”

Something rough and hard brushed her hoof pad. Velvet’s eyes widened. Applying another spell to dissolve some of the duct tape’s adhesive, she plucked the hard and rough object from her bag.

Indra’s Bow was no longer glowing.

A crooked smile slid onto Velvet’s face. She felt her doubts start to short-circuit.

“At least something good came out of this piece of shit day.”

The nervous, strained laughs from Velvet’s adrenaline withdrawal echoed into the night, even after she stuffed Indra’s Bow back inside and hid the saddlebags under the parachute. It wasn’t until exhaustion took over that Velvet finally collapsed into her princess-sized bed of grass, rocks, and fabric.
> Chapter 17: Airshipwrecked
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After rubbing the sand out of her eyes, Twilight Velvet shivered as she scanned her surroundings, wringing her waterlogged mane. The burning wreckage that served as her makeshift campfire had since gone out; only the jacket gave her a feeble semblance of warmth. Not even breakfast was warm—hell, it wasn’t even worth feeding to her cat. Not that she owned a cat right now or anything like that.

“Phthweh!” Green shreds catapulting from Velvet's mouth and onto a bare patch of soil to her left. “‘You won’t starve in the jungle,’ they said. ‘Just reconnect with your feral side,’ they said.”

Velvet turned over a particularly lush fern. The view from her negative-five-star suite presented a totally, legitimately, honest-to-goodness awe-inspiring vista: a gray, overcast, early morning sky setting the stage for a drizzle. Throw in an attacking tiger to give it the negative sixth. 

At least the city was still visible through the haze. Unfortunately, so were a few smoke plumes that hadn’t been there before. Maybe Fillyppine ponies were like buffalo, also communicating through smoke signals?

An orange flash, then a fireball, blinked at the city. Velvet’s ears drooped. After what happened last night, did she really have to head towards more violence?

“Fuck it.” Velvet shook her head as the sky opened up in earnest, matting her jacket down against her fur in seconds. “Civilization’s civilization. It has to be better than this hell-hole. If anything, at least they’ll have a messenger dragon there or something. But first…”

Focusing for a moment as she sat on the dampening grass, Velvet used a cantrip to pass some heat into the adhesive of the duct tape she had used to mount her very own pegasus wings. Time for Bat-Mare to retire. After all, this was a dense jungle, not a bare mountain range. Velvet frowned. Shedding her wings wasn’t as bad as losing her motorized colleague, Evy, but it still hurt. This adventure had already claimed too much from her. 

One at a time, the tattered wings crumpled to the grass. A patch of adhesive clung to the right sleeve of her new jacket, so Velvet brought the edge of her hoof up to scrape off the sticky mass. She blew a strand of soaked mane out of her eyes with a huff. “Times like these call for alcohol—” she rubbed a little harder, heedless of the rest of the muck and mud garnishing the rest of her jacket "—both for rubbing and drinking. Ugh, maybe I can get some Pinot Noir in the—ow!”

Velvet swatted a hoof against the back of her right foreleg before turning it over. Imprinted beside a small red splotch were the flattened remains of a dark mosquito, the white stripes on its legs almost blending in with Velvet’s gray fur. Velvet groaned, glancing behind as she wiped the mosquito’s corpse on the chest pocket. On her parachute mattress sat several puddles, each providing a new home for a gathering number of specks buzzing above them. 

“Seems like I’ve been evicted.” Velvet stood up, rolling her shoulders before puffing her chest out. “I know when I’m not wanted.” 

Another sting on her flank made her flinch. “Ehrm. I’ve been wrong before. That’s for Night Light, you little home-wreckers.” Velvet trotted off, her nose in the air. 





Shielded by the jacket’s hood, Velvet’s eyes narrowed at the sky through a gap in the forest canopy. What time was it now—ten, eleven a.m? Even if she could see the sun, it wasn’t like she could get any useful information from its position—not at this latitude or any latitude, for that matter. “Sh-should’ve paid more attention in my Filly Scout days!” Velvet’s voice cracked as she resisted the urge to facehoof. 

The ground began to descend for a minute before the slope increased down towards a wide ravine. At least she hadn’t crossed that before. 

Velvet sucked in a breath. She took a few shaky steps down before sliding a bit, reacting and landing her forehooves onto a mossy rock. Her front legs twisted as she scrambled for a better purchase. When her hind legs stabilized themselves against a dead tree, she blew out a breath. If she’d jumped onto this rock on all fours, she’d be tumbling down the slope into a muddy battered heap. “Bad move…bad move…”

Backing away from the mossy rock, Velvet turned to the side and peered down the slope. The babbling creek to her left was the only landmark for miles; the whole forest was just a homogenous mass of trees, shrubs, and rocks. “Maybe I really am just going around in circles.” Velvet kicked a pebble down the slope, tracing its trajectory as it bounced on a flat patch of soil. As Velvet jumped down to the patch of soil and continued in her hunt for more stable ground, her hooves and her tongue took her down the dual spirals of the jungle valley slope and her own insane self-ramblings. “Bad move” pretty much described this whole damn thing.

“Can’t even see the city anymore… they probably don’t even have electricity!” 

Grunt. Slide. Clutch this root here. Nope. That’s a snake. 

“'Great article idea,’ my ass.” 

Sure, just hold onto what’s practically classified intel while quizzing a mercenary about Mage Meadowbrook the Fourth—all while she was this close shooting her in the face. Brilliant plan.

“Ack. Stupid mosquitos.”

Heaving a sigh, Velvet finally reached the large log jutting out of the slope she was aiming for. “Why did I ever leave Night Light…”

Somepony replied.

“Halika! Ni-ingon nila na didto nidam-ag ang ersip.”

The foreign voice, still a little ways off, soon gave way to a rumble in the distance. Velvet’s ear twitched. There was a sort of clanging undertone to the rumble. “That’s…that’s some kind of a vehicle! And ponies…a rescue!”

Velvet tottered on the edge of the log. It shifted between two large rocks pinning it in place. A few bits of dirt slid down the slope as the log settled. Velvet cupped a hoof to her mouth, but her shout stopped in her throat. 

“Wait a sec.” Velvet gulped and rubbed her neck. “‘A rescue?’ Don’t be more of an idiot; how do you even know that?”

Velvet put a hoof to her chin and glanced down, one ear perked upwards. Maybe their conversation could confirm their intentions?

“Naa mo’y nakit-an diha?”

“Ay, wala. Pastilan, ngano man kita diri.” The annoyed snort of a stallion’s voice interrupted the conversation. “Mokuyog unta kita sa grupo ni Magsaysay.”

The two voices bantered back and forth for another minute.

Velvet growled: if only life came with subtitles. She sat down, the bark threatening her backside with splinters. Did she dare risk it?

 “Well… it is civilization,” Velvet murmured under her breath. “Vehicles and possible guns still sound better than jungles and possibly poisonous greens.” She stood up and shook some water off, the rain tapering off into a drizzle. “Hostile or not hostile, sounds like I don’t have much of a choice.” 

After rubbing off some dirt with the cuff of her jacket, Velvet’s right hoof tapped her chin. “Besides, they might have supplies…and definitely have some shiny tech!” She felt her face break into a smirk. “Let’s say they want to kill me. I can always liberate one of their cars and retrace their steps back to civilization. And once I’ve freed one of their captive cars, I can give the beast a cute little name… ooh, like Izzy!” 

Velvet sprang up, pressing one hoof forward. “A lucky break: just what I–”

Wood cracked behind her. Velvet spun around. The rocks buckled, and the log swayed under her hooves. She was about to go surfing.

“Oh for Cele-e-e-e-estia’s sake!”

Fortunately, Velvet didn’t have far to fall. Less fortunately, she didn't know how to surf. With one simple shift, she found herself on the slippery mud, tumbling alongside the log. Even more unfortunately, two or three boulders also cared to join in the fun. Dirt flew in the air,  giving her soaked jacket new layers of filth. She couldn’t even see what was ahead. She got no warnings, only the stings of thin branches scratching her delicate Canterlot fur.

“Oof! Why?!

“Gah! Shit!

“Agh! I…!

“Ow! …hate…!

“Ow! …trees!”

A non-consensual cartwheel planted Velvet prone at the base of the slope. Soil bunched up in front of her face while friction kept it pinned to the ground. Using a burst of telekinesis to yank her mane upward, she gained a view of her new destination. 

The craggy mouth of a sinkhole.

Velvet gasped. Her eyes widened, then slammed shut. Gritting her teeth, she cast a spell on herself, disappearing in a cerise flash of light.

Velvet reappeared in a nearby area of the forest. Her own internal speedometer ticked upwards. Before she could open her eyes, her face drove itself into a bumpy, leathery mass that let out a stomach-churning squelch under her weight. It didn't take long for the sound of buzzing flies to reach her ears…and the smell of rotten flesh to reach her nose.

Flailing her legs, Velvet sprang from the leathery mass and backed away, coughing and rubbing her face. The stench of that leathery…thing sent Velvet kneeling and emptying the contents of her stomach on the grass. She squinted one eye to the side, towards what caught her fall.

A Rafflesia flower, now crumpled and extra fragrant 

Velvet was no botanist like Daring’s uncle, but even she knew of the Rafflesia’s infamous odor. It was one thing to read about the smell in a book. Unfortunately, reality could be a cruel mistress.

While Velvet spat the residues of the bile that still burned her mouth, a hiss directed her to the foot of a nearby tree. After exchanging glances with a striped snake, she gasped and stepped back. Now wasn’t the time to make new friends.

Somepony pounced on her.

Velvet’s back hit the ground. Her attacker’s silhouette flashed in her eyes. The world went dark and blurry from the sharp pain at her temple, but she clung to consciousness despite the sucker punch. Even with her head being forced sideways onto the soil, she was able to get a partial view of her attacker, who gestured at the underbrush.

Not friendly. Definitely not friendly.

“Dalag, anhi ka diri! Gidakpan nako ang usa ka taga-Equestria!”

An armed pony with yellow fur emerged, a few twigs clinging to her plain dark fatigues. Velvet found herself in the increasingly frequent position of squirming while having a rifle trained on her head. Her face reddened as she tried to send a charge through her horn, but that teleport had drained her. All she got was a  few useless sparks. “Crap! Not this again.” Velvet muttered.

“Pangutana siya kung asa ang barkada niya.” The gunpony faced her mate.

“Ha?” Velvet’s captor raised an eyebrow at the yellow gunpony.  “Ngnano man? Tapuson natin to na at patyon ta siya!”

“Y-yeah!” Velvet muttered “Ngnano man… Right?”

Her captor gave her a look like she was stupid. The yellow gunpony took a few steps closer before finally planting her hooves on her hips. “Eh, di unsa-on ta mohilba-an kung asa ang iyahang kauban? Wag natin tong sayangin.”

Hopefully, they weren’t talking about how many holes she needed in her head. Finally, her captor snorted. “Lagot kaayo, uy. Pero sige nalang.”

The cold edge of a rusty machete pressed against Velvet’s neck. She froze. Her captor’s maroon eyes pierced into her core. She shrank back, her mane sinking into the mud.

“Where’s your partner?!” Maroon Eyes’ heavy Fillyppine accent shook Velvet’s facial bones.

A thick, tense pause filled the forest, pierced only by the drizzle and the occasional call of a bird. Velvet’s raggedy breaths slowed as she frowned at her attacker. This was all kinds of wrong, and frankly, she was done with it.

Another punch. Velvet’s head spun the other way. Though she couldn’t see it, now she could feel the rusty blade’s dripping edge pressing ever so slightly on the bioluminescent velvet of her horn. At the corner of her blurry vision, Maroon Eyes leaned closer, his eyes blazing. 

“Patayng yawa!”  Even his fellow Fillyppine attacker stepped back, even as she kept her sights lined on Velvet’s head. Velvet shivered, her ears folding backward. “I guess you won’t be needing your horn then. And after we’re done skinning you, we can—”

A gunshot echoed from behind. Velvet yelped. Maroon Eyes crumpled on top of Velvet. His now-blank eyes rolled upwards, and something damp and warm soaked into Velvet’s jacket. Velvet pushed herself out from under him and backed away, her breath puffing out in a  series of rapid gasps.

“Gi-atay!” The yellow gunpony swept her rifle towards the origin of the gunshot before diving to cover behind some thicket. Staying low, she brought her rifle up again and shouted. “K-k-kinsa na? Gawas mo!”

Velvet waited, then glanced around. Whatever stand-off this seemed to be continued in a stalemate. Velvet’s trembling, sweating legs screamed at her to jump up and run, but that would likely only give her a bullet in the back. There had to be a way to tell the unseen rescuer where the insurgent was.

The hiss returned. Velvet once again exchanged a look at the snake from long ago. It slithered on a tree branch, spectating the stalemate. He wouldn’t mind being borrowed for a while, right?

Velvet’s forehead creased as she squeezed her eyes shut, scrounging up whatever magic she could to the front. Her horn burned, and she swallowed to suppress a lump forming in her throat. The branch rustled, and Velvet cracked one eye open. The snake was gone.

Several gasps emerged from the thicket directed Velvet’s attention toward the right. On the snake’s scales, remnants of her telekinesis spell fizzled into the aether. The yellow riflepony stood up from the thicket, uttering a string of incoherent shouts followed by “Bitin! Bitin!” as the snake found itself a new cuddle buddy. It took only a few seconds for the insurgent to free herself from the snake’s wrap. But a few seconds was enough.

A second gunshot smacked the second attacker straight on the skull. As her body crumpled to the forest floor, Velvet blinked several times—both to clear away some sweat from her eyes and to process what had just transpired. It was only now she noticed her heart thudding in her chest.

The bushes to her left rustled, but nothing emerged. Then, a small wisp of smoke streamed from an unseen source. Velvet crept towards the bushes, her eyes trained on the dissipating wisps. “D-Do Dare…?”

Her only reply was a  groan. Not much to go on, admittedly, but its timbre didn’t match Daring’s low-pitched grumble. 

Two horns emerged from the bushes. Velvet stepped forward.

“River Rapids! Oh, thank Celestia it’s you! I thought you died in—”

It took Velvet only a few seconds to gallop to Rapids. But in the same time frame, Rapids had only crawled forward a few inches. Only half her body was out of the thicket when Velvet reached her, and she grunted with every crawl. Velvet put a hoof to her chin as her mouth hung open. She wasn’t expecting Rapids to come out unscathed after that fall, but still…

“Out of the way, Vel.” Rapids breathed out, grimacing at Velvet. Even after Velvet obliged and gave Rapids space, the buffalo kept to the ground. As she pushed herself up with her forelegs into sitting back against a tree, Velvet took a moment to process Rapids’ state. At no point did Rapids use her back legs in the movement.

“Rapids?” Velvet’s voice quivered. “C-can you feel your back legs?”

The buffalo grunted, not bothering to look up as she fiddled with her gun. She swatted at a mosquito as she chewed on the question. Finally, she pulled off a torn headband and chucked it onto the ground as she hung her head. “Nothing below my waist.”

“Dammit.” Velvet smacked her lips and pranced in place. “Okay…uh…we gotta get you to a medic.” Velvet spied the edge of Rapid’s radio jutting partway out of her satchel. She reached for it. “Maybe you can contact your–”

Rapids swatted Velvet’s extended hoof away. “Don’t you get it? Right before Fuze died, he broadcast word of my betrayal on the standard frequency. Those two who were about to take your horn? They’d be just as happy to see me dead. They’re part of the group that hired us.” Rapids pulled herself forward to rummage through her bag, pausing to brush off bits of multicolored bark from her fatigues.

“Who are they?” Velvet asked, glancing at Maroon Eyes’ corpse. “What is this ‘group’ that hired you?”

“Insurgents, revolutionaries, freedom fighters…” Rapids shrugged her massive shoulders. ”You ponies have too many names for them. I don’t know how they got the money to even think of affording us, but Volt’s not complaining. And the Spectrum? This will be the most lucrative coup her team has ever backed up. Volt wouldn’t pass up on an opportunity to satisfy a client and bolster her own troops at the same time.”

Velvet opened her mouth to reply, but a harsh voice in the distance cut across her. 

“Galing ang putok didto—kung asa nawala si Dalag!”

Maroon Eyes’ friends were coming, and by the sound of it, they were bringing a whole party.

Velvet’s hooves had stopped prancing in place, opting instead to pace around the clearing. “We’ve got to go, right now!”

Rapids gave her a look. “What, you going to carry me?”

“Well, I can’t just leave you here!” Velvet’s eyes darted around the clearing. There was a tree a little ways off. There was the material of River Rapids’ satchel. Maybe if she could… 

Velvet circled behind the buffalo’s hulking form. “C’mon. Either we get you up in a tree, or we hijack one of the vehicles these insurgent idiots have. Either way, you can’t stay here!” She hooked her forelegs under Rapids’ arms and pulled up, doing little more than to rumple her jacket. 

Rapids huffed. “Come on, pony. You don’t have any way to do it and you know it.”

“But… I made a promise! What would Thunderhooves say?! I told you; he’s willing to take you back!” She tugged again. A tugboat she was not, however—more like a hatchback towing a semi.

Rapids squirmed out of Velvet’s grasp. “By Celestia, you’re dense. Listen!” A shimmer glinted on Rapids’ eyes despite her frown. She gagged, swallowing a lump in her throat, then continued. “Only one of us can walk away from this and go home. It’s too late for me. I threw my life away for a thrill. I let my birth family down; I let my mercenary family down…”

Rapids’ voice trailed off, her eyes drifting to her limp hind legs, then at the rustling bushes at the other side of the clearing. Pulling out the rest of her ammo and stacking it neatly beside her, she turned back at Velvet. 

“Death is preferable to the shameful hell that is life.”

Velvet’s jaw dropped, and she sat on the ground beside Rapids. “Don’t say that! Come on, there’s got to be–”

“You…you don’t have to follow my path.” Rapids paused, looking back up to her again. “Don’t waste the chance I’m giving you.”

Velvet bit her lip and sniffled, backing away to the edge of the clearing. It was her turn for her eyes to shimmer. “N-nothing to say to Thunderhooves, then?”





“There is one thing.” Craning her neck downwards, Rapids rested her rifle on her lap. Her cloven hooves moved upward, snagging something on her neck. As if she’d rehearsed this moment, Velvet crept closer and brought one of her forelegs forward, allowing Rapids to cup her turquoise necklace into Velvet’s hoof.

“Tell them I’m sorry.”

The insurgents’ clamor grew louder. Velvet and Rapids turned their heads and ears to the direction of the sound. After stuffing Rapids’ necklace into her pocket, Velvet gritted her teeth and looked up, inert sparks of aether dripping from her horn and sweat streaking down her temple. “I… I won’t forget you. I’ll tell your clan you were honorable at the end.” 

Velvet took two steps back, then turned tail, half-disappearing into the bushes. Her eyes chanced one last look at Rapids. It was hard to see through the weeds, but Velvet could make out a soft, wan smile.

The bushes at the other side of the clearing rustled behind Velvet. Tail between her legs and neck craned down, Velvet disappeared fully into the jungle. A gunshot rang out, followed by another. Soon, a volley of gunfire could be heard dwindling in the distance as she ran. A cry of pain rattled the air and shook her bones all the way from her face to her sternum. 

It was only about two minutes tops before Velvet stopped running and slumped down the foot of another dark multicolored tree. The dense jungle brush gave her ample cover from the mercs and insurgents…and ample time to digest the morning’s events. This time, there was no adrenaline high to blunt the pain.

“She didn’t have to die,” Velvet trailed off in a whisper. “I could’ve done something. It…it’s my fault.”

Velvet huddled into a ball, her tears mixing with the jungle’s unrelenting drizzle. Her head throbbed and her legs tingled. The Rafflesia stench had stopped registering on her mind, now that her nasal passages were clogged. If she hadn’t sat her fat ass on that log like an idiot, maybe she wouldn’t have tumbled down the hill. Maybe Rapids would still be alive. Losing Evy was one thing: she could always get another mistress for herself. But Rapids? She was somepony else’s friend and family—entrusted by her tribe to Velvet’s care.

And she failed.

The minutes melted together. The morning drizzle gave way to midday heat as the cloud cover burned off. Velvet figured a lot of time had passed but she didn’t care enough to move out of her curled posture. 

Something touched her shoulder. Velvet gasped. She spun around, but her still-trembling form fell on a patch of dried leaves.

“Easy, it’s just me,” spoke a raspy contralto. 

The golden angel’s presence calmed Velvet’s nerves a bit—at least, enough to stop the shaking and tingling. A red gash peeked out from the inside of Daring Do’s left wing, and there was a tattered hole at the right side of her shirt. Apart from that, and more than anything else, Daring didn’t seem shaken by the storm—or even their current predicament, for that matter. All Velvet could do was stare. 

“Well, it looks like you didn’t receive any new holes…so at least there’s that.” Daring sighed in relief. Velvet didn't return the favor. “Maybe this story might end up with  a happy ending after all.”

Velvet still gave no reply, but she felt her bottom lip begin to quiver.

“Listen…” Daring hiked an arm over Velvet’s withers. “I managed to get in contact with Haribon. His own archeological team found the second Indra’s Bow piece a couple of days ago. Now he wants to meet up with us in Durio City.” Daring gestured somewhere; north, west, whatever—Velvet couldn’t tell. “We’re almost there, Vel. Just one more piece to go, and—”

It was only then that Velvet’s deafening silence finally dawned on Daring. 

“Vel?” Daring’s eyes softened. “You okay?” It was like Daring’s eyes were begging Velvet to say something snarky—anything to reassure her that this was still the same Velvet who’d joked about the hot, explosive climax from last night.

Daring’s eyes trailed from Velvet’s face to the pocket on her jacket—more precisely, a turquoise bead poking out. Daring bit her lip before stepping back and holding her arms out.

Velvet hiccuped before racing ahead and taking the hug that was proffered. The force jostled Daring back, but she didn’t try to wiggle out of the embrace. Velvet let out a torrent that could’ve challenged the earlier rains. 

“I know you haven’t really known her that long–”

Daring cut herself off, her protegee continuing to cry onto her shoulder. 

“Actually, never mind. That wasn’t nice of me to say. You took your oath to that tribe very seriously. I respect you for that. Truth is—” Daring huffed, patting Velvet’s back some more “—I’m sorry this is all I can do.”

Several wavered breaths escaped from Velvet’s mouth. Her whole face ached, but she kept holding tightly to her mentor. “Ih…it’s all right. You’re doing a good job so far.”

“You too, Velvet. You too.”
> Chapter 18: Constructive Interference
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Early afternoon—at least according to Daring Do—saw Twilight Velvet tailing behind her mentor. They hadn’t stumbled onto any other hostiles; maybe Daring had their patrols memorized, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Daring kept her eyes forward. Meanwhile, Velvet kept her daze down, tracking Daring only by the shadow at the top of her peripheral vision.

Daring hopped onto a fallen log, then turned around and extended a hoof to Velvet. Her hooves, however, stayed rooted to the soil. The gunshots and death cries from before echoed louder in her mind the longer she glanced at the necklace in her pocket. Half of Velvet was expecting Daring to nag at her: “move your eclair-filled bottom.”

The other half wanted to curl into a ball. Why did she come? How could she have saved River Rapids? How was she going to explain all this to Night Light? Did this tunnel even have a light at the end?

A thick silence hung in the humid jungle air ever since they started heading for civilization together. Velvet chanced a glance at Daring’s face. There wasn’t a hint of impatience on it. “It’s okay.” Daring broke the silence. “Take your time.”

Velvet’s head drifted downward. Her quiet brooding wasn’t annoying Daring, but it was annoying herself. Why was she even stewing her guilt like this? This wasn’t like her at all. Best to bury it in that closet at the back of her mind. 

Now all she needed was a distraction...

And Velvet sought it at the upper corners of her vision.

She placed a hoof on the bark of the log Daring stood on. The elements and moss gave it a dark green tinge, but it wasn’t uniformly so. Her eyes narrowed at a patch where the bark had fallen off. Strips of green, red, and purple sent a glimmer to her eye.

“Check this out.”

“L-look,” Daring spoke up, “this really isn’t the time to–”

The sound of wood chipping off interrupted Daring. The log trembled as Velvet peeled off strips of bark with her magic, not bothering to look up as Daring’s wings beat twice and she joined Velvet on the ground.  Before Daring could protest, Velvet grabbed her and brought her closer to the larger patch of exposed wood. “Remember how your uncle Gallant said that some kind of…rainbow tree was attracted to the Spectrum?”

“Or Indra’s Bow,” Daring trailed off and blinked.

While Daring stayed frozen by the sight, Velvet galloped to another nearby tree, this one still standing. The sound of cracking, chipping wood filled the forest again as Velvet roughly tore the bark off a second tree. It didn’t take long for Daring to join her in staring at the bark’s brilliant streaks of green, orange, and violet.

“Just this once, I’m glad he’s a plant fanboy,” Daring muttered to herself before looking back at Velvet. “Uncle Ad also theorized that the Neighponese found an artifact and hid it away in one of their bunkers. Cross your hooves; let’s hope he’s right again.”

Daring craned her neck upwards, and she scoped the surrounding forest canopy. Her ears folded back as her eyes zeroed in on something between two trees, some distance to Velvet’s right. Tucked away in the jungle brush and covered in vines was a concrete bunker. Cracks and moss crawled all over it. The Neighponese lettering painted on its walls had faded into barely-traceable red specks. Despite these signs of wear, however, the lone bulb shining onto its open doorway beckoned the two explorers to walk into its mouth.

“Right there. You still have that headlamp, right?” Daring walked to Velvet’s side. 

Velvet fished for the device from inside her muddied saddlebags. Nothing clinked or rattled when she shook it, but when she switched it on the beam seemed a little more feeble than she remembered. Note to self: get some AAA batteries in Durio City.

After Velvet handed the headlamp to Daring with her hoof, Daring trotted closer to the bunker and drew out her sharpened trowel. “Stick close to me. There might be somepony else in there.”

She took a deep breath, a mutter traveling through the wind and into Velvet’s ears.

“This is it, Uncle Ad…”





Twilight Velvet wasn’t sure why she expected anything different. The bunker looked exactly like the gray, dilapidated ruin she’d pictured in her head. Vines and roots snaked all over the crumbling walls. Last night’s rainwater dripped from holes on the ceiling. The only paint left on the walls were signages over doors and collapsed archways, very helpfully written in some weird Oriental language. At least Ma’am Do could read them—even if Velvet’s troubled mind struggled to process Daring’s accompanying history lesson.

“So the Fillyppines is still angry at us?” Velvet shivered at the slightest draft—but only when Daring wasn’t looking. She scoffed—hopefully that would make Daring less suspicious. “Didn’t you just tell me that Celestia’s Expeditionary Force helped them kick out the Neighponese? You’d think they’d be more grateful.”

“Well, not the whole Fillyppines or even most of the citizenry—just one of the larger anti-Neighponese guerilla groups. They didn’t like the Equestrian colonization before the Second Global Conflict, and even after the Fillyppines gained independence, they think the current administration is still too pro-Equestrian.” 

Daring took a detour to the left. She poked her head inside a room, her hind legs visibly tensing under her bipedal stance. “Is this necessary? We haven’t seen anypony else since we walked into the door.” Velvet growled.

“There’s still power, however faint it is.” Daring tipped her helmet backwards, briefly eyeing at the bulbs on the ceiling before disappearing into the room. “And it sure as hell isn’t coming from the post-conflict power grid.”

Velvet followed Daring’s eyeing the lightbulbs on the ceiling. They gave off a faint, dazzling glow, even the ones that had avoided the beam of Daring’s headlamp. Velvet’s head then drifted downward, facing the floor and groaning to herself.

“Now, where was I? Ah, right, the insurgents.” Daring walked out of the room, her voice pulling Velvet out of an encroaching fugue as both mares continued down the corridor. “I’m not in the know about the details, though. All I know is they take Equestrians hostage and even shoot their fellow citizens. As corrupt as the Fillyppine government is, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust the other guys to do any better.”

“And you trust your client—even though he’s part of that corrupt government?”

Wordlessly, Daring gestured a hoof to a corridor at the right and trotted down some stairs. Velvet tailed behind, catching up to Daring’s pace, but not wordlessly. She put her hoof down, literally and figuratively.

“Hey, I’m talking to y–”

“It’s not like Haribon’s done anything suspicious….” Daring’s pace slowed, and her gaze drifted from the floor and back to the bulbs.

“But after last night…is the Spectrum really the solution to a famine?” Velvet’s fur stood on end. Was it the aetheric electricity in the bulbs above them, or the memory of the airship explosion? Maybe both. “Seems more like a weapon if you ask me—or at least, something like the ring from that one trilogy.”

Daring waved a hoof as she continued walking, this time towards a door at the end of the hall. “You’re not seriously proposing I double-cross Haribon now, are you?”

“Not now. Hell, I haven’t even met the guy. I don’t think he wears a curled mustache and ties mares to train tracks.” Velvet shrugged. “I’m just saying we should be on the lookout for ulterior motives. Let’s hope that in this case, the apple falls very far from the tree.”

Daring had no reply, but she did have a reaction. A sigh mixed with a grumble bounced around the walls, her head turned away from Velvet. Daring pawed the door a couple of times, even bumped it with her shoulder. A resounding gong bounced around the walls, and Daring’s efforts were rewarded by her slumping to the floor, dirt and dust from the jamb showering onto her body. After Daring coughed and wiped her face, she looked up and tilted her helmet back, her eyes meeting Velvet’s.

“I suppose. You sure you haven’t had business dealings with shady characters in a previous life? Either way, I can’t say I share your suspicions—” Daring shook her head and grunted as Velvet helped her up “—but think of it like this: either we get the Spectrum, or someone with the mercenaries’ moral fiber does.”

Daring braced herself on the door again: not at its center, but just at the side. She gave Velvet a quick nod. 

Velvet joined Daring at the door. The two mares strained. Their hooves dug into the cold concrete floor. Velvet grit her teeth as the sound of groaning metal drowned out their own grunting. At the corner of Velvet’s vision, a small shaft of light spilled from an ever-growing opening.

“On the right track.” Daring dusted herself. “Let’s give it another shove. On three—”

“Wait!”

Daring jerked her body backwards. “What is it?”

“One-two, shove? Or one-two-three, shove?”

“I—” Daring gave her a withering look.  “—just…shove!”

Both ponies slammed the door with their shoulders. With a metallic groan, darkness gave way to blinding light. Velvet stumbled forward, sputtering from the dust gathering into her mouth and throat. Her eyes watered, squeezing shut several times while gradually compensating for the sudden glare. 

Velvet walked to Daring’s side and nudged her with a shoulder. The gesture was a little over-the-top—a chair in front of the closet of her mind. “Well! There we go! One bunker penetrated without rainbow lighting, zinging bullets, or nefarious characters. What’s next?” Instead of answering, Daring switched off her headlamp and pointed, her primaries extended towards the scene below.  

“Oh.”

Several meters ahead, the platform they stood on dropped down into a lower area, as if they were standing on some sort of mezzanine. Brownish water, roughly a fetlock deep, covered the area below. Not bad in and of itself—if it weren’t for the red, yellow, blue, and purple sparks of aetheric electricity dancing and crackling across its surface. The sharp odor of ozone wrinkled Velvet’s nose. Her face grew grim when she noted the grayish statues…corpses… statue-corpses of two ponies standing out in the murky lightning water: Neighponese, if their khaki uniforms and distinctive side-flip caps were any indication.

The rainbow lightning didn’t have to chase them inside. It was already here. Velvet slapped a grin on her face, even as she felt her heart grow colder. “Ch-chin up!” Velvet’s eyes darted around. “Maybe we don’t have to cross the angry water! Maybe the artifact is just lying around on this platform somewhere.”

Before Velvet could turn around and begin her search, a puff of air escaped from her mouth as Daring jabbed Velvet’s chest with a hoof. She then pointed her right wingtip at the other side of the flooded chamber. 

“Yeah? So there’s a small window in the wall over there. Celestia, we’re saved. A window…”

Daring rolled her eyes. “Don’t be myopic, Sparkle. Look closer.” Daring extended her wing out. It shielded the flaring light from the angry water’s electricity and gave Velvet a better view of the window. It was next to another metal door on a similarly raised platform. 

Wait. Something else was glowing on the other side of the window. “Is that…?”

“The third and last piece.” Daring gave a subtle grin. “Time for another smash and grab?”

Velvet forced a smile. “Sure. Why not?” She tried to match Daring’s surging mood—tried. 

“That window is at least three fetlocks above the level of the water.” Daring flapped over to the other side and tested the door. Meanwhile Velvet’s eyes wandered back down to the lightning water. A short access ladder led down into the flood, for anypony curious enough to find what being petrified feels like. A similar ladder led up to the platform Daring was on, who promptly smashed the window and set to work clearing debris sticking to the frame. 

“Last night’s storm must’ve been quite the torrent if the rainwater could reach here,” Velvet ventured as she watched Daring work.

“Eh? More like the tree roots round their way in through the crumbling concrete, and the water followed.” Daring indicated the area with a wing before flapping up, hooking her forehooves on the ledge. 

Sure enough, said roots were visible not only near the water below, but a few had broken through on the near side and were sprawled across a portion of Velvet’s platform. She looked up to find Daring doing her best to wriggle into the aperture. 

Velvet’s ears folded back. “Hey, uh, your tail’s getting a little close to the electricity. Now’s not the time to make yourself a guinea pig.”

“Thanks.” The tail lifted as Daring’s muffled voice emanated from the chamber inside. “Not all of us are cool enough to get a tail trim while spelunking and getting chased by lightning!”

“True… true.” Velvet gave one snicker. Hopefully there would be more where that came from. Celestia knew she needed a reprieve from that “mood.”

Unfortunately, Daring took her time to re-emerge.

“Um, everything good in there, Do Dare?”

There was a frown on Daring’s face when she popped up from behind the window. “Yeah. Give me a few minutes. Somepony wanted to be cute and rigged up a trap. I’ll get it.” Daring ducked down again. 

Velvet’s left eye twitched as she turned her head away from Daring and put one hoof on her brow. All she could hear was the crackle of the aetheric electricity on the flood. If only her mind could focus on just that. Instead, it wandered to the cracks of lightning in last night’s storm, the crack in River Rapids’ voice—and the crack of the gunshots that took her life. Hopefully she went quickly. Hopefully the insurgents didn’t draw it out.

That could’ve been her. 

Maybe it should’ve been, so River Rapids could be the one to crawl away to safety. Velvet gagged and stuffed the frog in her throat back into her stomach. Was this what Daring felt in her first time? 

“G-get a hold of yourself.” Velvet shook her head as she fought to calm her trembling hooves. “Idle hooves are windigos’ playthings.”

Anxious to keep her mind busy, Velvet started to scope the room. Following a greater concentration of crackling arcs, she could barely make out a power outlet beneath the surface of the  murky water. Directly above, about a foot and a half above the water, the largest root had managed to burst its way through the wall. Further scrutiny revealed an undeniable detail as she watched a few of the sparks leap directly into the root. “Of course,” Velvet muttered.  “That’s, like, the only species of tree that exists in this adventure.”

On Velvet’s platform, at the other side of the room, a tall generator cracked and sparked in tandem with the flood. The generator door had swung free, allowing Velvet to scrutinize its contents. With a half-smile, she crept closer. Her element—what better way to distract her thoughts…thoughts about Rapids. 

The generator housed two long power cells. Apart from a bit of rust on the steel shaft, nothing was off about the left one, but the one on the right? It was made of…glass? Crystal? Never seen that before. Velvet cocked her head to the side. The shaft was split open, revealing a crackling coruscating stream of magic electricity. Inside the stream was a levitating cluster of… something, but the glare made it impossible to tell.  Velvet applied a quick spell on her pupils: something similar to Night Light‘s “sunspot goggles.” She didn’t need the protection now, but there was something hidden in that power cell.

Velvet’s vision dimmed. The bright stream revealed its secrets. 

“Fulgurites.” Velvet rested her head on her hoof. “Don’t know why I expected anything else. Sounds like something I would try… if I had a maybe a shot of two of absinthe.”  She glanced at a petrified corpse slumped at the wall beside the generator. “Of course, a hangover from mixing absinthe with fulgurites would be hell.” 

She jerked her head back at the fulgurite stream. Blinding white assaulted her eyeballs. “Shit!” Velvet pressed her hooves to her eyes and rubbed, reapplying the pupillary spell. Maybe she should have asked Night Light for those sunspot goggles before going on this reckless journey. At least they didn’t require constant maintenance from her horn. Then again, he’d probably get suspicious and—

Velvet slapped herself. “Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it…”

Right beside her, leaning against a hole in the wall, a pile of metal rods provided the perfect distraction. Velvet didn’t need any fancy goggles or vision spells to see the gnarled roots wrapping around some of the rods. She loosened one from the grip of the root and teased it out. Many more rods had escaped the tree’s nefarious clutches, stacked up behind a nearby collection of bright blue plastic barrels—at least the ones that hadn’t joined the other barrels standing together in the corner of the room. 

A faint rumble echoed. Velvet jerked her eyes and ears to the source of the noise. On the opposite side of the room, two cracks converged on the wall. A piece of concrete chipped off and splashed into the angry water. Velvet jumped to her hooves.

Nothing exploded, thank Celestia—but at the area where the two cracks met, a stream of water gushed out, splashing where the concrete chip had fallen. While not an entire river’s worth, this was certainly no trickle. That wasn’t good.

As if to follow up that thought, a brilliant yellow arc hit a metal shelf just a little higher than Daring’s standing height. That arc was quickly followed by a second, and then a third. Velvet inched backwards. Why was the flood getting angrier?

“Got it, Vel!” Daring’s voice called out from inside the small room. “I’m coming out!”

Velvet blinked, and her jaw hung open. She hadn’t been keeping track of Daring since she disappeared behind the window. Prancing in place, she watched the rising water under the window. The arcs were reaching out for something. Daring’s snout peeked through the jamb.

“Daring, don’t move!”

Daring gagged. Two cerise clouds of magic materialized from the aether: one on Velvet’s horn; the other, on Daring’s collar. Daring’s right hoof clutched the artifact to her chest while the other clutched haplessly at her neck. “Ack! Vel…what are…you…”

Velvet ceased her magic and pointed at the water below the window. Her nose wrinkled; the tang of ozone grew stronger as arc after arc of magic electricity leapt for the artifact—just like in the San Palomino caves. “Put the bow down—you almost made yourself an extra power conduit.”

Though Daring stopped resisting, the frown stayed on her face as Velvet released her grip. Daring clicked her teeth and backed away from the window. “I made it across just fine. Did something change?”

“Aside from the fact you’re now holding an artifact that’s trying to draw all the lightning to it?”  Velvet pointed at the leaking crack on the wall, Daring tracing her foreleg from another window in the small room. “Unless you can turn off that faucet, we’re both on borrowed time. Is there any other way out over there?” 

There was a reply, not with Daring’s voice, but with the echo of creaking metal, followed by crumbling rocks.

“Nope!” A clang punctuated Daring’s growl. “The one door here leads to a collapsed tunnel. The other door—” Velvet heard a clack before the door started to swing open. “—apparently unlocks from the inside.”

“Wait! Holy Celestia, um…” A bright red arc of lightning slammed into the metal surface. Velvet heard Daring mutter a few colorful metaphors. She scanned the room again,  rubbing her sweating hooves together. “Right, uh, maybe you can toss Indra’s Bow to me?”

“Do you want to touch an electric conductor while it flies near lightning water?”

Dust kicked up to Velvet’s face after she stomped a hoof on the floor. “Uh, um, shit!” Her frustrated growl gave way to pants. She scanned along the periphery of the room, trying to cram her panic into the overflowing closet. Finally, she peered behind the generators. “Right, there should be some kind of…power switch or something!”

Velvet’s eyes darted back and forth as she went over the equipment. Was it right before her eyes, hiding behind the anxiety darkening the corners of her vision? The buzz of electrical arcs squirmed deeper into her hearing. Her chest squeezed itself, then spasmed.

No such luck. 

“Okay, new plan…” Velvet breathed out, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Maybe explosives or something to blow up the generator?”

“Explosives?” Daring growled. “Right, like we have any C4 lying around!”

The water had already risen several inches. Through the blinding, snaking sparks, two stout grenades revealed themselves on the Neighponese corpses, the light glinting from their metal rings. Could those work?

Wait a minute… Velvet dropped her head and seethed to herself. If age hadn’t reduced those grenades into duds, the sparks from the lightning flood would’ve set them off long before Velvet and Daring entered the room. There were no more words—only Velvet’s throbbing heartbeat sounding in her temple. The gunshots and Rapids’ cries returned and pounded her mind.  

“Hey, hey!” 

Daring’s impinging shouts slammed a brutal kick against her burgeoning closet door.

“What are you doing, Twilight?! This isn’t like you!” A frustrated growl underlined Daring’s voice. “Look again. What do you see? Use it! Don’t try to find something that’s not there!”

“Right.” Velvet murmured. She cleared her throat. “Okay. Right!”

What about the barrels? Velvet turned her head to the side, a a thoughtful frown on her face. A cloud of her magenta magic plucked one barrel and brought it over the angry water. “I…hmm…I guess I could make, like, a bridge from these.”

Grasping the lid of the barrel with her telekinesis, Velvet licked her lips and lowered the first part of Barrel Bridge. The good news: the electricity wasn’t jumping on to the barrel even after its bottom touched the water.

The bad news: the barrel wouldn’t touch the floor. “Damn, maybe I can build a raft.” Velvet grunted as she pushed her magic aura down. Hopefully, the plastic would hold. 

Something gave. The slip in Velvet’s magic translated into a stumble in her legs. The barrel splashed onto the angry water, but at least it hadn’t wet anypony’s fur. When Velvet regained her footing, she got an exclusive view of the lid she’d been grasping in her magic. It wasn’t pretty.

She’d punched a hole in the lid. If her telekinesis alone could do that, how much more would the weight of a whole pony?

“Son of a—” Velvet couldn’t even complete her curse. After she tossed the barrel to the side, a frustrated, almost primal scream erupted from her mouth and bounced around the walls. Some of the charged water splashed onto her platform. Velvet’s ears folded back. Her eyes widened; her chest weighed her down. She felt like she was under the insurgent’s gun again, running away while Rapids could only crawl before being brutally shot.

A crack slammed Velvet’s eardrums. She jumped, her flank plowing into the wall behind her. After shaking her head, she turned to the source of the noise. Daring’s eyes burned. Her hoof tightened around the handle of the whip. “Twilight Velvet!” An arc zipped over Daring’s head. She popped up again, coiling her whip as her face contorted with each syllable. “We…are going…to die!”

As she darted her eyes around the room again, Velvet fought the feeling of her heart escaping from her chest. Her eyes fell upon the metal rods from earlier, then darted to the hole in the wall. After galloping to the rods, she knelt down and levitated one to eye level, the roots keeping themselves wrapped around the rod. A second, smaller levitation spell plucked a long spool of wire out her saddlebags and hovering in the air beside the rod. Fighting the lightheadedness crawling into her mind, Velvet eyed her tools, then the generator. “Oh man…oh man, this is such a bad idea…”

“I don’t care if it’s a bad idea!” Daring shouted. “What is it?”

“Uh…um…” Velvet stepped back, levitating her tools to Daring’s eye level. “Y-y’know how your uncle said that these rainbow yew…yucca…whatever trees are attracted to the Spectrum’s power?” Velvet’s magic lowered everything except a metal rod covered in roots. “The reverse could be true!”

Taking a second rod in her magic, Velvet drove it into the hole in the wall, then stomped it with her hoof for good measure. After holding up the spool of wire, Velvet winced, no thanks to a hasty welding spell. “So that means we can divert the Spectrum’s power to something else…like the ground!”

“So…a lightning rod? What’s bad about that?” Daring snapped. 

“Bad is if I create an arc flash! D-do you even know what an arc flash is?! That gives us, like, a less than one percent chance of getting out alive! We’re fucked. We’re so f—”

“Nopony cares about an arc flash!” The sound of Daring’s hoof stomping onto concrete pounded past the crackling and into Velvet’s ears. “All I care about is getting tasered by this rainbow crap! It doesn’t matter how many zeroes there are between the decimal point and one—it’s a hell of a lot better than getting turned to stone!” 

Velvet stammered. “Okay,  Do Dare. Okay. Head in the game… head in the game.”

She entered some…zone; she wasn’t sure what to call it. Her adrenaline highs had long since failed her. This was survival instinct, raw .

“Okay, now for some insulation,” muttered Velvet. Taking a plastic barrel in her telekinesis, she set her jaw as her magic took on a bright yellow tinge, coupling levitation with a heating spell. Grunting with effort, she ripped off some of the material and molded it to encase one end of the lightning rod. 

Velvet stood back, wiped sweat from her brow, and sucked in several gasps. Her telekinesis gripped the lightning rod by the slipshod plastic handle. As the lightning rod inched ever so closer to the generator, images of the generator exploding thundered in her mind. Slamming her eyelids shut, Velvet gulped and brushed those thoughts under the rug—no room left in the closet. Hopefully, Night Light would find her body.

The flood beside Velvet flickered. The water was almost up to her platform now. The angry water quieted down, the lightning on its surface robbed of its sustaining energy. Sparking streams of multicolored electricity flowed out of the generator and into the lightning rod’s air terminal. Pulses of harsh rainbow light glowed through the wire as they traveled and disappeared into the ground rod. Velvet’s mind buzzed, but not like in an adrenaline high. It felt like the arteries in her temples were about to burst. She’d hate to leave any sort of stain on this place. 

Something shifted at the corner of Velvet’s vision. Daring was starting to climb through the window, and the water didn’t like that.

“Not yet, not yet!” Velvet licked her lips, just barely keeping her voice from cracking. “Wait for it to cool.”

As soon as Daring slinked back down into her prison—with a few dark curses—the flood calmed down. Hissing through her teeth, Velvet levitated the lightning rod closer to the generator. The heat and buzz pressed further on her skull. It was a small price to pay to get her friend out, though, and as the flood’s orchestra finally melded into a decrescendo, the conductor steadily lowered her baton. The symphony was drawing to a close. 

Daring’s wings ruffled from behind her. Velvet raised a hoof, alternating her focus between her mentor and the water keeping her prisoner.

“Steady…steady…”

The flood flickered. For two brief moments, darkness, not water, flooded the room.  

“Now!”

A dark yellow blur zoomed out the window. The artifact on Daring’s hooves sent an iridescent glow crossing the ceiling. Discovering the deception, the flood roared. The aetheric electricity on its surface rekindled and reached for Daring, but Velvet’s rod had stolen too much of its thunder. 





A long breath streamed out of Velvet’s mouth when the downdraft of Daring’s wings tickled her fur from behind. “I, uh, I got an idea.” Velvet nudged her head toward the door. “But it’s best if you get yourself out of the room first. And take that stupid bow with you.”

Daring huffed, but obliged anyway. Velvet turned back to her lightning rod and groaned. It pained her to leave her hoofwork to rot, but it was the only thing quelling the beast. Besides, it wasn’t like materials to make another weren’t in short supply. 

Her cerise magic plucked some spare bars from the ground and strapped them close to her saddebags. As for the roots and branches, there were many of those rainbow trees outside. Once Velvet trotted out the room, her spine sagging from the rods strapped on her back, Daring cocked her head. “Why do you need those?” 

Velvet adjusted the collar of her jacket, then shut the door behind her with her magic. “If this has an effect on the Lightning Mare’s hoofwork, maybe it also has an effect on the Lightning Mare herself.”

They barely took three steps forward when the chamber behind them rumbled. Light billowed from the gaps of the door. Dust fell from the ceiling. Both ponies’ muscles tensed, then Velvet looked back at the chamber. Some newly-fallen rubble piling behind the door didn’t want her prying eyes snooping around.

“Smart ponies know when they’re not wanted.” Daring jerked her head to the exit. “ Let’s go. I’m already sick of this place anyway.”

As Velvet followed Daring, she stared blankly ahead. Her legs moved, but not the rest of her face, aside from the occasional blink. She should’ve been happier—but she was just…nothing. What was wrong with her?





About 3 pm—or so Daring claimed—and not a single insurgent or mercenary. Maybe they were still searching for survivors or salvaging for supplies in the airship crash site. Or maybe they were busy fighting the Fillyppine military, judging by the distant pitter-patter of gunshots. Just as well: the rods were threatening to telescope her spine, and if it wasn’t for her hooded leather jacket, it would’ve eroded the skin around her shoulders.

Velvet sidestepped a Rafflesia on the ground, then looked up at her flying mentor. The words stopped themselves before they reached her mouth; she couldn’t even remember what she wanted to say.

Daring Do sighed, breaking a half-hour-long silence. “Velvet, I…I’m sorry about breaking out the whip earlier.”

She waited a half-beat, but Velvet didn’t quip back at her. 

“What? No comeback? You must really be out of it.”

This time, Velvet didn’t have the presence of mind to face Daring, instead opting to rub her forehead with a hoof. “I-if anything, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I could’ve saved you sooner.” Velvet resumed craning her head to the soil.

“I figured.” Daring pushed a giant fern down, then paused. “But I think we should save this conversation for when we get out of the jungle. The sooner we get the Spectrum, the sooner we can go back to Equestria. You have a fiancé to return to and we still need to tell Thunderhooves what happened to Rapids.”

Velvet scratched her chest and licked her lips. Either Daring wasn’t aware of the wound Velvet was trying all afternoon to keep from reopening—or she was. Velvet wasn’t sure which possibility was more haunting.

In any case, Daring didn’t follow up her words, opting instead to push the fern out of Velvet’s way. Velvet slammed her eyes shut and snorted, the spores tickling her nose. When she opened them again, Daring had landed and gazed at the rice paddy in front of them.

And Velvet thought that when Daring talked about the Fillyppine “crop problems” several days ago, it was just a lame excuse.

The rice field in front of the Daring Duo was filled with barely a film of water, yet the soil was nonetheless cracked. The few scattered plants were brown and dry, rustling in the breeze. Clearly, the storm last night provided the only water this field had seen in a while.

Daring cupped her hooves and hollered to the lone creature on the field. “Hoy, ikaw diha! Na’ay sasakyan padulong ug Durio?” 

She…he, rather, lifted a foreleg and turned his head to the voice, the baskets on his sides shifting. “C’mon, Vel. Hopefully, he has a ride.”

As they cantered closer to the farmer, he cocked his head and straightened his pointy bowl-shaped hat. Velvet did her best not to stare, but the temptation was strong. The mousedeer's beard and the wrinkles on his face spoke of middle age, yet he—and the other mousedeer in a distant hut—were only an inch or so higher than an Equestrian pony foal.

Daring pushed her back with a hoof. “Let me do the talking; mousedeer can get a little skittish, and I don’t think this guy knows Ponish anyway.” 

“Kinsa mong duha?” The mousedeer’s thin legs trembled. “Taga-Equestria kamo, di ba? Kabalo ko tungod sa pag-istorya mo. Gikan ba kamo sa barkong-paglupad sa miaging gabi-i?”

“Opo opo, pero wag kang kabalaka,” Daring replied in a softer tone. “Dili mi kasama sa mga gerilya na niadto sa lasang. Kinahanglan lang kami moadto sa Durio City. Kabalo ba ka kung asa kami pwede mokuha ug jeepney o bisan trisikad lang?”

“Ah, e, didto po sa amo-ang kapitbahay.” The mousedeer faced a couple of huts and pointed at them by puckering his lips. 

Daring took a deep breath, excused herself from the mousedeer with a “Palihog paghulat kadyot,” then turned to Velvet. “Good news: he’s got transportation. Once we meet up with Haribon, I suppose we could take a short break. We’re close to our goal anyway.”

“Right.”

“Oh, and one more thing.” Daring tapped her hoof on the cracked soil. “You’re right. You could’ve saved me sooner, but I think after what happened there, we need some quiet…and then we need a talk.”

Velvet spasmed from Daring’s words… and her foreleg jabbing onto Velvet’s chest. Something ate at Velvet’s mind as she trailed behind the two. Daring expressly mentioned the break for a reason.

“Still…”

The tension in Daring’s shoulders visibly relaxed. Her right foreleg twitched closer to Velvet’s direction before drifting back, a sigh mixed with a groan emanating from Daring’s mouth. She rubbed the back of her neck.

“You got both of us out in the end. I guess that’s what counts for now.”

After Daring turned around and started to follow the mousedeer to the huts, it took a while for Velvet to continue tailing Daring. She was still “out of it,” yes, but Velvet could nonetheless find it within herself to return Daring’s show of gratitude with a pitiful attempt at a smile. “You’re welcome.”
> Chapter 19: The Unfathomable Burden
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Velvet braced her forelegs on the inner wall of the “jeepney”—at least, that was what Daring Do called it—as it trailed behind a military truck. The jeepney less resembled an actual jeep and more like a van with musty, torn-up seats running along the sides and facing each other, save for the driver’s seat and shotgun. Whether this rust bucket was factory fashion or severe neglect on the part of the owner, Velvet couldn’t say.

Not that she cared at the moment. Her forelegs tried to absorb yet another violent jolt, this one nearly bouncing Velvet out of her seat. Despite the chaos of the ride, she still felt numb.  Rapids’ fate was still too fresh. She wondered if this feeling would ever fade.

Velvet’s eyes briefly met those of the driver through the rearview mirror. After another moment, the dingy earth pony switched his gaze to glance back at Daring. “Kumusta kayo diha?” 

“Okay lang po!” replied Daring. Her eyes flicked towards Velvet before she turned away with a sigh. “At least, physically…”

Velvet’s jaw clenched. She hadn’t spoken so much as a squeak since Daring secured their ride. The air had faded from a fresh mountain jungle breeze into stale city haze, a hint of the now-familiar odor of gunpowder wafting through the air. Velvet was torn between watching out the window and looking towards her adventuring companion. She didn’t want to meet Daring’s eyes, but at the same time, she didn’t want to catch sight of yet another family in tattered clothes trudging to the opposite direction. If she was especially unlucky, that family would be lying on the dirt, their fur stained red.

Sometimes, Velvet looked down at her—no, River Rapids’ necklace. There it was, poking out of her jacket pocket the same way as it poked into her mind. A symbol of Rapids’ last act. A symbol of Velvet’s failure. Velvet squirmed in her seat and put her front hooves together. Everything around her was conspiring to make her feel small.

And the worst part? It was working. 

“I don’t understand,” croaked Velvet. 

Out of the corner of her vision, Daring focused on her with a pensive gaze, barely flinching Velvet tried to swallow, her throat far too dry. 

“Understand? What don’t you understand?”

Velvet gave a lifeless chuckle. “What’s different this time?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought I would be having fun…” With a muddy hoof, Velvet wiped at some itch near the corner of her eye. “...you know, back at the train. Don’t get me wrong: up until today, I was.” Velvet felt her heart twitch as she looked through the open back door of the jeepney, the bloodstained bodies of three ponies shrinking in the distance. 

Daring gestured at the necklace in Velvet’s jacket. “To be fair, you did just watch Rapids die.” 

Velvet shook her head. “It’s not just Rapids. I mean, it’s primarily her, but…it’s not just her.” Velvet cupped her hooves. “Though since you brought her up…how do you deal with it? Losing ponies like her? Surely you’ve had your own Rapids…Rapidses…y-you know.”

It was Daring’s turn to sigh. “More than I’d like to admit. Why do you think I kept trying to push you away after the train? An ounce of prevention, as they say.”

Velvet rubbed at her eyes again—must’ve been a wisp of soot. Yeah, that was it, nothing to do with her rapidly crumbling faꞔade. “But let’s say Thunderhooves entrusted Rapids to me instead of you and I had to witness her death. Lots of ponies say you have to have a tough shell to protect a soft interior.”  

Daring took her pith helmet off, frowned, and shook her head. “That’s not how you reinforce something. A shell’s not good enough. You need crossbeams or…buttresses or whatever. 

Velvet snickered. It felt good to divert her mind, even for a moment. She imagined the sides of Daring’s helmet, reinforced with flying buttresses. 

Daring frowned. “Or whatever it is you engineer folk use. Egghead.”

Loud foreign voices from outside cut Daring’s words short. Furrowing her brows, she leaned out the window and surveyed the road ahead.

“That shell of yours was older than you probably remember.” Daring retreated back into the jeepney and leaned closer to Velvet. “And I don’t think it’s healthy for you to keep trying to patch it up, even if it means you get to bask in your adrenaline rushes more often. That being said, I think you need to look at why you’re here—this journey will kill far more than your boredom.” 

Velvet fidgeted and shrank into the corner of the seat. Nothing stood in the way of Daring’s armor-piercing words anymore. The pegasus pulled her hat down to cover her eyes.

“Life’s a wild ride, Velvet. That means sometimes you’re on top, and others, you fucked..”

An explosive concussion rocked the jeepney. The vehicle braked hard, sliding in a drift to the left before coming to a stop and throwing them back into their seats. A thick heat washed over them, beads of sweat coalescing on Velvet’s temple.

“The hell?!” Velvet leaned out the window. Thankfully, the hood of their jeepney seemed fine, but the truck that had been in front of them was now a twisted open wreck. Flames consumed it and its occupants.  Civilians were running from the scene while other ponies and mousedeer, all in uniform, scrambled past the flaming wreck. They galloped to a second pickup lying on its side. 

Velvet pulled her head back inside and fought to get her breathing back under control.  A nauseating weight tightened her chest and larynx. This type of death and carnage was...different.  “W-was…was that a mine?”

The Jeepney rocked as the driver started screaming something in his native tongue, throwing the vehicle into reverse. Daring pressed her helmet back onto her head and braced a hoof on the metal bars lining the window. “The insurgents wouldn’t plant mines this close to a military checkpoint. It’s gotta be something else.”

Some of the Fillyppine soldiers ventured to the intact pickup; others pointed their guns towards the thick forest off to the left. Still others were gesturing and yelling at civilians to get out of the road. 

The jeepney backed into some debris with a metallic screech. Two soldiers hoisted a limp, groaning earth pony from the remains of the pickup bed and carried him away. A third soldier—a white earth pony—started slamming her hooves on the windshield. The tint made it hard to tell, but Velvet thought she saw a trembling hoof pushing up against the window from the inside. Velvet rubbed her eyes and gulped as she watched the soldier continue to bash at the glass, yelling the whole time. And she thought the train shootout was bad.

Something rustled the trees at the other side of the road. An unholy clanking, rumbling cacophony rattled her ears. Or was it her seat?  

The jeepney driver’s voice raised up an octave. His cloven hooves trembled. “Pistikot! Kinahanglan ta mogawas sa dalan!” He fumbled with the stickshift, pushing the jeepney backwards again before throwing it into first and twisting the steering wheel. The engines roared, and the jeepney freed itself from the debris with a jolt.

Velvet’s head slammed into the bars of the window. She rubbed her head and looked behind her as the jeepney picked its way through the rest of the debris.  “Daring, what’s going on?! What did he say?!”

“I told you to grab hold of something,” Daring growled. Her foreleg muscles tightened around the bars. Several soldiers had run up alongside the jeepney and started shouting at the driver. He merely kept his head down and his eyes forward. 

Velvet panted once, her voice nearly cracking. “That doesn’t answer my questions!”

The jeepney lurched to a stop in front of a soldier. “Unsa ang ginabuhat mo?! Paghunong!” the soldier barked and gestured with his rifle. 

“Yeah, of course they want us to stop.” Daring rolled her eyes before turning to Velvet. “That’s about the most polite invitation we’re going to get.” 

“But what do they want?”

“‘We have to get out of the highway.’ That’s what our driver said. The soldiers want the same, but they want us out of the jeep first.” 

The rumbling cacophony crescendoed. Velvet’s ribs were beginning to rattle. Fresh sweat trickled down her mane. “I don’t think so! What if we—” 

Several trees at the left of the highway snapped and fell. The source of the unholy noise chugged into view. Civilians and soldiers alike scattered. Velvet’s jaw hit the floor of the jeepney.

“A fucking tank? Should I just bend over now then?!”

The Fillyppine soldiers surrounding the jeepney scrambled for cover. They trained their guns towards the tank and its mixed escort of thirty or so mercenaries and insurgents. Before Velvet could watch more of the battle, Daring took her by the shoulders and slammed her body downwards. “Get down, unless you want to eat a tank shell!” 

The Daring Duo hunkered on the dark floor. Unimpeded, the jeepney lurched forward, its engine roaring to life. Velvet’s hooves scraped the rusty metal, while the sleeves of her jacket saved her right elbow from an abrasion. The jeepney’s wheels screeched as it finally escaped the maze of debris. 

Through the opening at the back of the passenger compartment, Velvet watched the tank cross the road, crushing the pickup under its tracks. The white earth pony had retreated with her comrades—unwillingly, it seemed. Crying out at the crushed pickup, she kicked and screamed at her sisters in arms as two of her number held her back. 

Velvet’s ragged breaths solidified into a cold mass weighing on her chest. 

Civilians scrambled out their cars and galloped away from the nascent battlefield. Though the Fillyppine soldiers’ bullets had pinned the insurgent and mercenary infantry down, they bounced off the tank’s green metal plates—no surprise there. 

The surprise, instead, was at the turret.

The turret swiveled to face a Fillyppine squad frantically gesturing civilians out of the killzone. From a small muzzle just below the larger main cannon, a stream of yellowish orange flame erupted and clung to soldier and civilian alike. A few changes in angle sent another jet of flame into the forest on the other side of the road. An otherworldly belch drowned out the screams of ponies flailing out of the blazing forest and writhing on the ground.

“Hoy, balik kita didto!” Glaring at the driver, Daring jabbed a hoof back at the skirmish—massacre, more like. “Kinahanglan sila ug tabang nato!”

“Buang ka ba?!” The driver screamed back, pressing the pedal down to the floor. “Walay kitang paagi para makapatay ug kanang tangke de giyera!”

Daring glanced back at the carnage. “Celestia damn it!” She slammed the seat with her hoof.

The jeepney steered into an intersection. The suspension rattled, highway asphalt making way for dirt. Still, the black smoke from the flame tank’s hoofwork remained visible above the forest canopy. Velvet could still imagine the heat play across her face—the merciless agony of being burned alive. The numb shock she felt couldn’t quite obscure the sight, nor the screams of the ponies flailing out of the blazing forest and writhing on the ground. Her tears couldn’t quite obscure the sight either. 

“W-what are we gonna do?” Velvet fought the quiver in her voice. “And why in Celestia’s name do they need a tank that shoots fire?!”

Daring climbed back up to her seat, prompting Velvet to do the same. Daring’s jaw clenched, and they both glanced back at the column of smoke. “Nothing…not right now, at least.” Daring hissed as she took her helmet off, her hooves visibly tightening their grip. “Our driver’s right. We can’t help without cooking up the proper tools.”

The gunfire and screams soon faded away. But Velvet couldn’t bear to lower her hooves from covering her ears. Not yet. Velvet’s stomach twisted itself in knots. 





It didn’t take a long while for the jeep to come to a stop at a small village tucked away in the jungle. The Daring Duo made sure to compensate the jeepney driver for the extra trouble—much to the reluctance of Velvet’s bit purse. They were on hoof again; the narrower dirt roads were flanked by run-down buildings, paint flaking off the walls. The impact of the insurgents and mercs on the locals did not escape their notice. 

Velvet tried not to look, keeping her neck craned down. She kept her hood pulled up to block her peripheral vision, but it was no good. She only saw more of the same: dirty, bloodied ponies or mousedeer, all dressed in torn clothes and sleeping on straw mats or staring at the ground with vacant expressions on their faces. A small ache welled in Velvet’s chest. 

Velvet cantered to Daring Do’s side. “I thought we were heading to a city?”

The frown from earlier hadn’t left Daring’s face. All this time, she kept her eyes forward on a shabby eatery ahead, even if she was blinking more than usual. “Haribon decided that this was a better place for us to meet up. It’s faster if we both drive towards each other than if one pony drives while the other waits.”

“Yeah well, let’s hope he has a phone or a messenger dragon or something,” Velvet muttered. “I’ve got to get Night Light up to speed.” 

“Psst.” A third voice perked Velvet’s ears up. She turned her head to the left: yet another mousedeer lying on a mat, a striped, mostly white bandana featured on his forehead, standing out from his grayish, wrinkled fur. He regarded Velvet with a shrewd, yet kind gaze.“Okay ka ba Ma’am?” he offered in a voice like shifting sand.

Velvet licked her lips and glanced back at Daring before giving the mousedeer an apologetic smile. “Uh, sorry, I don’t underst—”

“Ah, sorry.” The elderly mousedeer bobbed his head before scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t realize you two were Equestrian. Just…it looked like someone was troubling you.”

While Daring walked to Velvet’s side, the mousedeer fished for something behind him and held it out to Velvet. 

“I know it’s not much, but…consider it a welcoming gift from us locals.”

Velvet simply stared at the small pack of crackers on the mousedeer’s hoof. Several seconds passed before she was shaken out of her stupor by a nudge from Daring’s direction. “Hey, don’t forget your manners.”

With her magic, Velvet took the crackers from the mousedeer’s hoof and held it against her chest. “You don’t have to do this, you know. Celestia knows you need this food more than I do.”

The mousedeer chuckled, then adjusted his bandana. “I’ve been welcoming ponies and deer into this village for sixty years, at putang ina, I’m not going to let the damned rabble rousers stop me from doing that!”

“Th-thanks…” Velvet gave the mousedeer a soft nod of gratitude before stuffing the crackers into a chest pocket in her jacket. As she and Daring continued their way through the village, Velvet glanced down, a lump materializing in her throat. 

Upon entering the shabby eatery, they soon found a table with four chairs. Velvet sat in an exhausted heap, the stained, rough plastic chafing her furry bottom. She leaned her saddlebags against one of the table’s supports. 

“Stay here.” Daring turned to a table with several serving platters in a row. “I’ll get us some grub.”

A ticklish, squirming sensation radiated from Velvet’s stomach. “N-no thanks.”

“Twilight, this is the freakin’ third world.” Daring rolled her eyes. “They don’t have souffles or eggs benedict or whatever you Canterlotians—”

“It’s not that,” growled Velvet. A couple of seconds passed before she sighed and dropped her head onto the table. “S-sorry, but…you could drop some eclairs right in front of me, and I’d probably leave ‘em for the flies.” 

“Not that your ass needs any more filling.” Then Daring shrugged, the expression on her face softening. “I’ll grab something either way, just in case you change your mind.”

Daring disappeared into the customers lining up around the buffet. Velvet, meanwhile, continued to rest her head on the table, arms sprawled out in front of her while her cheek touched the rough plastic of the table. What was her problem? Was this all she was going to amount to: a mopey housewife? Not that Night Light would even want her to become his wife after all the silent treatment she had been giving him lately.  

Velvet rolled her head to the other side. Her gaze falling on  a buckball court on the other side of the road. Nopony in their right mind would be playing right now, though—not when the court was occupied by straw mats, improvised tents, and their dazed occupants. Maybe this was why: she hadn’t seen a single civilian since Applewood, and she hadn’t had any meaningful interaction with them since the train attack in the outskirts of Canterlot—assuming the buffalo allies didn’t count as “civilians.” 

Wait a second…

Velvet blew a tuft of mane away from her face. That didn’t completely add up. What about the train shootout? That security guard died there, and she didn’t break down. Why was everything so different now? This time, it felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest. Like the world had lost its color. Not even finding the last piece of Indra’s Bow had pulled her out of the abyss.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”

The voice wasn’t Equestrian, that’s for sure: there was a certain “hardness” in his vowels. It was hard to describe; Velvet wasn’t the linguistic ponthropologist around here. As if her head was tied to a millstone, she swiveled her head to the speaker. The pegasus stallion’s brown shaggy mane was swept back in a crest, and his white fur almost blended with his torn cream shirt. 

Velvet turned away. Her only reply was a grumble. 

“Sige, sige. Didn’t want to cause you any trouble.” The stallion’s voice softened. “I was just wondering if you knew a…Daring Do?”

Velvet’s ears perked up. Her upper body catapulted from the table,  blue sparks sputtering from her horn. “What about her? Who the fuck are you?”

The stallion stepped back, then blinked a few times. “Ah…you must be the unicorn Daring told me about—Midnight Pellet?”

It was Velvet’s turn to blink. The gears in her mind turned, however rusty they were from the day’s events. She rubbed her face and extended a hoof. “Twilight Velvet, actually. Sorry… you’re Haribon, right?”

The stallion nodded, then flew a few feet off the ground as he took one of the vacant chairs. 

“I’m just not myself today, I guess,” continued Velvet.

Haribon brushed his mane back with a hoof. “No worries. I’ve been there. You should’ve seen me back when the first bombing happened under my term.”

Velvet’s eyebrows creased. “First bombing?”

“But the insurgents are planning something new; otherwise, they wouldn’t have hired Blitzgruppe and essentially kicked us out of our own city.” Haribon then stroked his chin and glanced downward, muttering his next few words in a quieter tone. “We can turn their goal against them, though… What would magic lightning do to a tank?”

Velvet cocked an eyebrow upward. She’d…have to take note of that. She turned in her chair and extended a foreleg at the crowd in the buckball court. “How bad is it? I mean…” She indicated out the window. “No offense, but this village looks more like a refugee camp.”

Haribon nodded gravely. Meanwhile, Velvet crossed her arms.

“I don’t see how the Spectrum of Lightning is supposed to solve this.”

“Shh… Yes, well...” Haribon held up a hoof, waving it downward in a calming motion. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to an almost inaudible whisper as he glanced at the customers grouped around the serving tables. “I don’t suppose we can discuss it after dinner, though?”

Velvet jumped when the rickety cart Daring had been pushing bumped into their table. Ignoring her, Daring gave the pegasus a grin. “Haribon, fancy meeting you here! I was starting to think you’d fallen victim to Fillyppine Time.”

Haribon chuckled, then looked at the plates on the cart. “Hmm, di ko kabalo na ganahan ka ug bulad…”

“Are you kidding? Bulad’s perfect,” Daring replied.

Velvet followed Daring’s gaze down to the three plates sitting on the cart. On top of each plate was a tiny mound of rice—barely a third of a cup—next to a couple of small, brown dried fish, each split in half at the middle. Daring scooped a wing under one plate and slid it in front of Velvet before pausing, her ears turning back slightly. 

“I don’t know what your stance on actual meat is, Velvet,” Daring said before sliding a second plate in front of Haribon. “But this was all they had.”

Velvet regarded the offering. It certainly wasn’t anywhere close to typical Canterlot Cuisine, but that was besides the fact that she just didn’t feel hungry. She started to push the plate away, but then paused as the scent of cooked food hit her nose. Her stomach tingled, and then growled, sending a whole new message. 

She ignored the sound of Daring’s chair scraping across the floor and lifted one fish with her telekinesis. One half cracked off and fell on the plate, exposing a rather sharp fin on the fish’s belly. 

To hell with it. Maybe some semblance of food could take her mind off her present perturbations. Surely this wasn’t as bad as grass off the ground.





Twilight Velvet smacked her lips, then lifted the last half-fish on her plate.

Daring Do pushed her empty plate away and nodded. “Not bad, eh? I like to think of it like…hay jerky.”

“It’s…actually kind of nice…” For now, the pit in Velvet’s stomach had stopped screaming bloody murder.

Haribon leaned back and crossed his forelegs. “Sabi ko na nga ba, eh. Although I would’ve preferred you tried our mushroom sisig, even rice is hard to grow these days.”

There was a small pause; though the other two were watching her, having already finished eating, Velvet didn’t hesitate as she crunched down on the sharp, salty fish floating in her magic. She could hear the gentle rumble of Haribon’s chuckle under his breath. 

“I’m pleased that you appreciated what sustenance we could provide. Maybe once you return to Canterlot, you can head to the imported goods section of Barnyard Bargains so you can cook some bulad for your fiancé. He must be dying to know all about your trip here.”

Velvet choked, her ears folding back. “I don’t suppose you have a messenger dragon around here, right?”

“And I suppose every little Equestrian hamlet has one of their own?” Haribon snorted and sat up a little straighter. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have needed to travel all the way to Equestria just to hire you, would I?”

“Mm. I suppose not,” Daring agreed.

“Hell, the last working cell tower got wrecked by Blitzgruppe days ago.”

Another, even longer pause. Velvet tried to not react but she could feel herself shrink. Out of the corner of Velvet’s eye, Daring leaned in and tapped Velvet’s leg with a hoof. “We’ll talk later,” Daring whispered to Velvet before raising her voice and facing Haribon. “I’m…sorry to hear it.”

“Na’ay uban na hinungdan.” Haribon shook his head, then tapped a hoof a couple of times on the table. “But…you did want to change the subject, so I’ll play along. Why don’t we talk about what brought you two here in the first place?”

A small jolt shook Velvet out of her stupor, and she sat up straight again. On Haribon’s side of the table was a large messenger bag that hadn’t been there before, a few specks of dirt clinging to its underside. After pushing his plate aside, Haribon opened the bag and slipped out several folders, drawings, and photos. One in particular grabbed Velvet’s attention: a rather detailed sketch of an earth pony. The colorful artwork portrayed a teal mare with an archaic blue blouse, embellished with rectangular and triangular patterns snaking on the rims. Gold bangles contrasted nicely with her coloring, and her brown mane and tail were done up with braids. “Is this…Mage Meadowbrook the Fourth?” Velvet looked at Daring. “I thought she was a unicorn.”

“She was.” Daring then pointed at the earth pony’s clothes. “This is also not Marwari dress. I don’t know if I’ve seen any sari that short before.”

“Quite. No, that isn’t Meadowbrook the Fourth... but that pony did know her.” Haribon’s voice brought both Equestrians’ eyes on him as he brought his hooves together. “We Fillyppine ponies ought to be proud that one of our own was found worthy to be the first to wield the power of one of Meadowbrook’s Eight Enchanted Items.”

Haribon’s eyes drifted to a hole on the corrugated iron roof. A small lightning bolt cut through the sky, illuminating the overcast clouds. Haribon’s tone softened, and he sighed.

“It’s a shame she fell victim to its curse and burden.”

“Skip the dramatics.” Velvet frowned as she tapped a frog on the drawing. “This pony here is the Lightning Mare, right?”

Haribon cocked his head. “‘Lightning’…what?”

Daring scooted her chair forward. “That’s what the bison back in Equestria called her after they discovered her in a cave several centuries ago.”

Haribon rubbed a hoof under his chin. “Ah…so that’s where she exiled herself. And now she’s coming home. I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later.” He then scratched a hoof lightly on the table, then muttered to himself, “Tabangi niyo kami, mga diyos.”

The only light in the eatery was a single ceiling bulb a few feet away from their table. Velvet huffed: the thunder that she half-expected from that earlier lightning bolt never came. Hopefully the Lightning Mare wasn’t too negative right now.

“...right. Well, I should probably start from the beginning.” Haribon cleared his throat. “Before the Kingdom of Caballos colonized the Fillyppines, Mage Meadowbrook the Fourth traveled here from her native Marwari.” He tapped a hoof close to the drawing, bringing it to the Equestrians’ attention. You’re looking at one of her first friends: Taligsik, a local warrior of her tribe.”

Velvet levitated the drawing of Taligsik to eye level. A modern artist’s interpretation, sure, but it was all Velvet had to go on. Just like Daring, Taligsik possessed rosy eyes, but there was a different…air to them. Maybe it was her more decorated eyelashes, or her more relaxed posture. 

Velvet looked up at the sky again, at the area where the lightning bolt coursed. An electric shudder course down her spine. Taligsik must’ve gone through hell—centuries of it— to become…whatever she was right now. “So… If Taligsik was close to Meadowbrook the Fourth, did Meadowbrook make the Spectrum of Lightning for her specifically?” 

“Not necessarily.” Haribon swept his hoof left to right. “When Meadowbrook the Fourth finished the Spectrum, many ponies wanted to be the first to wield it. But an artifact like that shouldn’t be given to just anypony. Meadowbrook eventually decided to give it to somepony she trusted—somepony of integrity.”

“And I take it things went well at first,” asked Daring.

“But of course. Taligsik held the power of the winds at her hooftips. More so than any single pegasus, or even a highly trained team. Her powers were great, and continued to grow with time.” Haribon fished a piece of paper from his bag. “This brought about an era of such great agricultural prosperity, that the ponies of that region eventually gave Taligsik the title ‘Inaiyau’—after one of our traditional lightning deities.”

“A prosperity you’d like to replicate today,” muttered Velvet. “As any nation would.”

“Just so.” Haribon nodded. “But as for Taligsik, she stayed a guardspony, even after getting that title bestowed on her. I am sure you are aware, the Spectrum can be used for more than just growing food…”

Velvet’s eyebrows creased. “A weapon in a pinch, right?”

Haribon nodded again, but this time his hoof twitched near-imperceptibly. Velvet pursed her lips, zeroing in her gaze at Haribon.

“Like father, like son…”

Haribon averted his gaze, missing the glare that Daring shot towards Velvet. “You don’t have to answer that,” Daring said upon looking back at Haribon with softer eyes.

“No, no, your pupil has a point.” Haribon waved a hoof placatingly. “Taligsik thought the same thing when the Kingdom of Caballos came to colonize her tribe’s land in the Battle of Grouper Beach.” He then looked squarely at Velvet’s eyes. “I take it you two have experienced Taligsik’s power firsthoof? You can probably predict one of the two things that happened next.”

Velvet glanced downwards and rubbed her eyes. The feeling of her eyes and tail crystallizing under the influence of the Lightning Mare made Velvet shiver and shift in her seat. Thank Celestia for the golden guardian angel. “We’re very aware of her rock-steady personality. But what’s the second thing?”

“This is where things get a little cloudy.” Haribon picked up the document he got from his bag and scanned through it. “After the Battle of Grouper Beach, Taligsik refused to talk to Meadowbrook the Fourth, at least for a few weeks. Because of this, most of what’s in Meadowbrook’s diary is based on things she extrapolated or overheard…except for the last day.” 

Haribon spun the document around and slid it to Daring, who lifted it up to eye level with her wing. Her mumbles were slurred at first, her mouth moving as fast as her eyes perused the document. But it wasn’t long before Daring slowed down enough for Velvet to understand. “‘May I be damned. My creation has robbed innocents of their right to live and condemned a gentle soul to a lifetime of exile.’”

Daring stopped, lowering the translated copy of Meadowbrook’s diary. By now, it was several minutes past closing, and the eatery had become dark and empty. Only crickets and distant gunfire provided ambience to the otherwise silent table. 

After clearing her throat, Daring continued reading. “‘For days, the villagers wondered why, every night, Taligsik would venture to one of the houses destroyed in the Battle of Grouper Beach. In hindsight, I wonder if following her there was the right choice.’”

Velvet turned to Haribon, but he offered no additional commentary. The ball was still on Daring’s court—and by extension, Meadowbrook’s.

“‘I saw Taligsik lying prostrate in front of a lightning-statue. The sparks pouring out of her hooves illuminated the ground she lay on. Her sobs were dotted with scratchy coughs. Neither her mind nor her magic had seen rest in the past few days. When I saw the golden band around the lightning-statue’s hoof, I understood. How could anypony rest after what Taligsik had done? It is a wonder she was still able to speak after she laid eyes on me.’”

Under the soft glow of a coupled flashlight spell, Velvet’s magic lifted the sketch to eye level. Wrapped in Taligsik’s left front hoof was another golden band. Velvet, too, understood. “Did…did Taligsik accidentally kill her wife?”

Haribon nodded. “It wasn't just her either.” 



Her ears folded backwards, Daring sighed and resumed. “‘When she stood up, Taligsik directed my attention out the window. Statues dotted the ruined village all the way up to the shoreline. With what little moonlight there was, I could still make out their  contorted limbs and faces. Most of them were not wearing any sort of battle dress. Some were barely older than my nephew. Yet in spite of all this,  Taligsik did not rage against me. Instead, she would crane her head downward, grit her teeth and growl…not at me, but at the eternal storm I put inside her.’”

Daring took her helmet off and leaned forward, continuing. 

“‘‘This is why no one is worthy,’ she declared.’”

Velvet leveled a long stare at Haribon, watching as he turned away, hanging his head.  Who was he to disrespect Taligsik’s wishes?

Daring’s voice brought Velvet’s attention back to Meadowbrook’s account. “‘There was little I could do to sway her decisions. Taligsik had already broken Indra’s Bow and hid two of the pieces in the uncharted jungle. The third—she would take it with her, far across the ocean, where she said she would never harm anypony again. She allowed me to touch the piece one last time, however. She must’ve known how much the loss of one of my creations—my children—pained me.’” Daring rubbed the sweat off her forehead and pushed her mane back. “‘I understand why Taligsik entrusted me to destroy the Spectrum of Lightning. Its mere presence sends a tingling sweat down my hooves and weighs heavily on my brain. But…I cannot bring myself to murder my children.’”

Velvet’s ears folded back. Evy had been her mistress; the Spectrum…well… She blinked a tear from her eye.

“‘Perhaps the Spectrum may still be salvaged; this is not the first time one of my Enchanted Items required extensive modification. In any case, nopony else should lay their eyes on the Spectrum. Not yet. Without the entirety of Indra’s Bow, that shall never come to pass—until the Spectrum is once again ready for the world.’”

Velvet rested her head on her hoof and glanced downward. Meadowbrook’s resolve echoed in Velvet’s mind. Maybe that was what Haribon was banking on?

Daring swallowed a lump in her throat as she looked for where she had left off.  “‘If only I had raised my child well before meeting you. Forgive me, Inaiyau. Though we all bear our own burdens, the one I have bestowed upon you is unfathomable even for the gods. In due time, may they grant you release.’”

Daring gaze turned distant as she let out a long breath. “No wonder Uncle Ad didn’t want me finding this thing.” Daring sighed before glancing at Velvet. “Course, after last night, we don’t need a historical account to know that.”

“To be fair”—Velvet raised a hoof—“your uncle happened to discover what Sarimanok was planning to do with the Spectrum.”

A few seconds later, Velvet shrank back, eyes on Haribon’s face. 

“S-sorry…”

Haribon’s hoof reached out across the table and slid the document back to himself. “Sa bagay, tama ang tito ni Daring. It was for the best. Papa…didn’t understand—and neither do the insurgents and mercenaries.”

Velvet hung her head and twiddled her hooves.

“Sa tinuod lang, I don’t think I understand either.” Even the crests in Haribon’s mane seemed to droop. The distant clapping of gunfire directed his attention outside, followed by a low rumble. Velvet wasn’t sure if it was thunder in the distance or something else. 

“Or maybe you understand a little too well.” Daring tapped Haribon’s hoof with the primaries of her left wing. “Either way, it’s your show now. The responsibility lies with you.”

Haribon squirmed in his seat. “But—I am my father’s child. With power like that, who—” 

“It’s not the gun—” Daring cut across him “—it’s the pony behind the trigger.” She brought out a pistol, laying it across the table with the grip towards Haribon. “I'd like to think you know better than your father.”

“First of all, I think you just insulted Mage Meadowbrook the Fourth, calling the Spectrum a ‘gun.’” Haribon’s chuckle dried up as he pushed the firearm back towards Daring. "Secondly, guns don’t erode your body and mind until you’re less like a pony and more like a force of nature.” 

“Meadowbrook the Fourth wanted to fix the Spectrum… Maybe she succeeded?” suggested Daring.

“We don’t know that,” Velvet butted in.

Finding herself suddenly under the intense gaze of both Daring and Haribon, Velvet ducked her head, staring at the floor. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure what more to add or why she even spoke up in the first place. She drew in a deep breath and marshalled her thoughts. “I-I mean”—Velvet darted her eyes back and forth—“for all we know, Meadowbrook never got the Spectrum to work, and it still turns ponies’ minds into angry vegetables. Why else would it still be hidden?”

Daring and Haribon joined Velvet in the silence that followed. Another bout of distant gunfire caused Haribon’s eyes to flutter to the side…something that didn’t escape Velvet’s notice.

“Still”—Daring nudged her head to the direction of the gunfire—“fixed or not, this place would go straight to hell if the Spectrum were recovered by our less-than-benevolent competitors.”

“Oh definitely,” Velvet and Haribon said in sync. 

The latter then sat up. “And with that in mind, I think it’s time.” With that, Haribon placed his bag on the table, the dull thud tantalizing Velvet as she imagined the contents comprising the final piece of Indra’s Bow. 

Not waiting any longer,  Daring and Velvet took their pieces of Indra’s Bow out of their bags, placing them on the table. Haribon paused, joining the mares in staring at the two pieces of the broken discord artifact before clearing his throat. “Let’s not do it here and now, though.” He scooped the other two pieces into his satchel.

Velvet sputtered and stammered. “But you just—! It… that’s… what?” 

“I’d rather not drag them into this.” Haribon swept a hoof at the refugees on the buckball court before facing Daring. “You still remember that safehouse in Uyanguren?”

“The same ‘safehouse’ I got pinned down in in a two-hour shootout? What about it?” 

 Haribon slung the bag onto his body and got out of the chair. “I’ll see you girls there first thing in the morning. That part of the city is deserted right now, so if the insurgents come knocking on the door, nopony else will get caught in the crossfire. The final piece of Indra’s Bow is secured there.” Haribon turned to leave. 

“You don’t even have it here?” Velvet was incensed. She glared at Haribon as a mousedeer came up from behind him, leaning up to whisper some message in his ear. “So what do we do now?” 

Haribon nodded in some accord with the mousedeer before ushering her forward. Both her mouth and her cloven hoof trembled as she waved to the Daring Duo. “M-maayong gabii sa imong duha po…”

Haribon acknowledged her wavering voice with a nod and a smile. “Waling-Waling here has volunteered to let you girls stay in her place for the night. Just follow her lead.” Haribon paused for a moment, then focused on Velvet. “I’m sorry we can’t offer you something as luxurious as whatever you have in Canterlot, but—”

Velvet waved it off, a small smile cracking on her face. “Don’t sweat it! It’s not the house; it’s the ponies…uh…mousedeer that live in it!”

After Haribon thanked Velvet and said his goodbyes, however, the smile faded away from Velvet’s face. What was she even doing anymore? She faced away and stared at the ground. This continued even while Velvet and Daring followed Waling-Waling down a small road. The soft wind whistling through the jungle and the chirping of crickets, along with the absence of any mention of the Daring Duo’s mission, gave Velvet’s brain the perfect ambience to think about her sudden shift. 

The answer wasn’t appealing. 

Earlier, Daring said “we’ll talk later.”

That “later” was just around the corner.





The flamethrower tank from earlier added to the list of things conspiring to make Velvet feel small. In the garage of Waling-Waling’s shanty, Velvet pushed back the only way she knew how: overworking herself.

The all-too-familiar aroma of gasoline wafted into Velvet’s nostrils as she sat on bare dirt and lifted a tree branch out of a metal barrel. Only a couple of small drops of the emulsion dribbled back into the barrel from her makeshift stirring rod. “Not thick enough; needs more oil,” muttered Velvet. Her magic dropped the stick and, in its place, swiped a jerry can from a workbench. Viscous, tar-like liquid oozed from the nozzle and disappeared into the barrel’s gaping maw.

“Feels like home, eh?” Daring drawled. Her comment was followed by the sound of ripping duct tape, causing Velvet to set the jerry can down and look right. After scraping some adhesive off her trowel, Daring patted one of the dark gray bands strapping a remote onto a rectangular explosive charge. From her chair, she wrapped her wing around the charge and leaned forward, bringing it closer to Velvet. “I think you can take it from here.”

The charge slipped from Daring’s wing and kicked dust from the ground. Velvet let it fall, staring at it where it landed. Her glimmer-less eyes traced its fall, then glumly stared at Daring.

“Look.” Daring sighed. “You want to take down that tank so badly, and all we have is a pile of scraps. A flame fougasse is our best shot.” Daring picked the explosive up again, weighing it in her hoof before setting it gently against the barrel of goo. Her eyes gained a haunted look before she pulled her helmet down lower to shield them. “Don’t ask me how I know that. Let’s just say this isn’t my first rodeo.”

A magenta aura lifted the charge, and soon, Velvet buried herself in her work. “Work”… this shit sure didn’t feel like it just a day ago. At least it didn’t last as long, judging by the green indicator light and the single beep. Velvet set the charge aside, then levitated the jerry can again. Daring was right, although “fougasse” was a weird name to call their improvised anti-tank mine. It wasn’t anything fancy—just an oil drum, an explosive charge, plus some other magic stuff to direct and concentrate the explosion. Velvet couldn’t be assed to remember the name, but putting her mind into a project was far preferable to dwelling on the past 48 hours events—or debriefing with Daring.

Especially debriefing with Daring. Maybe she forgot about ‘later?’ 

“Salamat sa mga kagamitan!” Daring called out to somepony behind her. Velvet kept her eyes on the jerry can, but folded her ears. She was hoping Daring had just fallen asleep.

“Ah, dili sa akoa ang kagamitan kana.” Waling-Waling’s naturally soft voice wasn’t helped by how far she was from Daring. It was a wonder Velvet could hear her over the background chorus of crickets. At least Waling-Waling had the courtesy to walk closer. “Gikan kana sa…usa ka pag-iimbak ng sandata ng mga rebelde. Ambot lang ngano gibaya-an nila kana.” Waling-Waling shrugged. “Pero walang anuman, hah!”

Nice, a distraction. Now Daring won’t have time to talk about—

“I think I know what’s wrong: you’re scared.” The soft, yet forceful guttural undertone of Daring’s voice jolted Velvet’s ears upwards. 

Velvet gulped and rubbed the back of her neck. “If this is about me punching you in the shoulder, that was all just a—”

“Stop, stop.” Daring raised her front hoof. An icy gust blew from the hoof and caused Velvet’s fur to stand. “Let’s be grown mares for a second. You’re scared that after seeing everything you’ve done, Night Light’s going to leave you.”

Velvet allowed the now-empty jerry can to fall to the ground. Daring blew a puff of air, as if she was taking a smoke. Celestia knew they both needed one.

“Now, I still stand by what I said in the airship: Night Light?” Daring paused, then nodded. “He’ll be okay.”

Even before Daring leaned back, tilted her head down, and glared at Velvet from beneath her eyebrows, something in Velvet’s chest made a pathetic attempt to brace for impact. Whatever Daring was going to say now, there was always going to be a fine print.

“But that’s not even the crux of the matter. The question isn’t if Night Light can live with you. It’s if you can live with you. Talk to me, Vel. Why did you decide to accompany me?”

“I mean, it seemed fun at the time.” Velvet tapped her hooves together. “And it’s for a good cause. Oh—and there’s also the fact that this will make an absolutely killer article…”

Daring cut through the noise like a pegasus through fog. “But it was mostly the first one, right?”

Velvet stayed silent and hung her head.

“I’m not saying that’s wrong. Celestia knows I enjoy the adrenaline rush too.” Daring swiped a bottle of antiseptic and rubbed it on the red patch on her wing. “But thrill is…fleeting. It’s temporary.”

Velvet’s eyes darted from side to side. “Well, it’s like…you know how ponies are willing to spend hundreds of bits just to fly to Las Pegasus and ride on the brand new Wild Blue Yonder for three minutes?”

Daring set the antiseptic aside. “Yes, and those ponies calculated just how much they would have to pay. Have you? On the plane…airship…whatever back to Equestria, what are you going to have to show to Evy’s insurers? To Rapids’ family? To Night Light?”

The pit in Velvet’s core crawled up from the chest pocket where Rapids’ necklace was and to Velvet’s neck. Her voice box seized. In any case, she had no comeback, witty or otherwise.

“When the thrill of the chase fails you—when the adrenaline wears off— you need to find something else to keep you going. Something to keep you from falling apart.” Daring stepped off the chair, circled round, and hopped onto a nearby hammock. “I can’t tell you exactly how to construct your crossbeams. That’s something you’ll have to discover for yourself.”

Velvet swallowed the pit…why bother? It was just going to climb back up again. “…a-and what if I can’t find something else?” she whispered.

Lying on the hammock and facing the sky, Daring crossed her forelegs. “Then go home, Twilight Velvet, because you already have ‘something else,’ waiting for you there.”

Velvet’s eyes began to water as Daring waited for a response—or an opportunity to continue.

“Back in the Canterlot outskirts, I said that once we find the Spectrum, we would go our separate ways. I told you that because I doubted that you would survive if you stayed by my side. Up to now, I stand by that, but for a different reason.”

Of all the things that day that caused Velvet to feel small, Daring’s final glare was the coup de grace.

“When you talk to your fiancé again, I don’t want to be a devil whispering in your ear.”

The hammock creaked as Daring rolled, facing away from Velvet. Her magic levitated the jerry can, but with her mind flying apart, Velvet set it down before she lost her telekinetic grip completely.  The pit in Velvet’s core immobilized her forelegs. One stayed perched on the rim of the barrel, while the other hung limply from her side.

She craned her neck upwards. The sky remained overcast, and lightning—natural, judging by its pure white color—fanned out inside a cloud. As Velvet traced the path of the lightning bolt, she found herself gazing at a hole in the clouds. The crescent moon beamed down on Velvet. Its judging glow added to the weight of the pit. In the mind of Velvet’s eye, there was no Mare in the Moon right now. 

There was, however, a Stallion of the Moon—back home. 

And Velvet had repaid his patience and kindness by leaving him.

The weight of the pit dragged her head downwards. She buried her head against her forelegs, propping them on the barrel. Broken sobs from a broken mare dampened the ground below her face, echoing into the night.
> Chapter 20: The Prodigal Drake
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two weeks couldn’t pass by soon enough.

Two weeks, each day gnawing at him, pulling at his mind. When would Velvet notice her missing journal? When would she march into Ponyville and become this season’s villain?

At the very least, right now Spike had a chance to correct—or conceal—his crime.

His claws pulled against the edge of his blanket, only recognizing too late that he had opened a sizable tear with his fidgeting. He shifted to his side again, wondering for the thirty-first time why he even volunteered to sleep in his old basket. 

Nostalgia…right. Spike pursed his lips. This wasn’t worth it; he should’ve asked to share a bed with Rarity. 

The fins at the side of his head twitched. Twilight and her closest friends breathed peacefully through the night. Well…five were peaceful. Rainbow’s snore could probably saw through oak. 

Spike’s eyes eventually fell upon the clock near the chamber door. His dragon eyes just barely made out a miserable two o’clock in the blasted morning. He grimaced before holding his breath, sitting up soundlessly before clenching his fists. The Malevolent Mistress wouldn’t be besting Spike the Brave and Glorious this time, no sir! He came prepared, thanks in no part to sixteen surreptitious cups of coffee. 

A lethal dose? Please—for a pony, maybe. But he was going to milk his dragon metabolism for all it was worth. Besides, it had been a very long two weeks, no need to turn it into three.

A cold draft tickled Spike’s scales. Canterlot Castle had luxuries and amenities of every kind—but it was still a castle. He gave one last glance to his friends, their serene slumber beckoning him to join them in the dreamscape.

No! He was committed to this course! He had it all planned out, and it was now or never. It was the only way. 

Not only did the Gala give Spike the perfect alibi to be in Canterlot, the events of the evening were sure to leave Twilight and her friends thoroughly exhausted. They had all returned to the VIP’s chambers late that evening in various states of ineighbriation—well, that word might only apply to Dash, the rest of them likely only had a slight buzz. 

Spike couldn’t blame them. After dealing with that crazy green goo creature, anypony might have needed a few extra stiff drinks, and at least one hot shower. Of course, after Tree Hugger had settled him down, Mr. Smooze had turned out to be a pretty cool guy. Spike just thanked Mother Mare that Velvet’s journal wasn’t shiny. Taking an involuntary swim in viscous green goo was bad enough; chasing after a MacGuffin inside the goo before it got digested was another thing entirely.

Shaking his thoughts clear from the craziness that was this year’s Gala, Spike slipped the journal out from under his pillow. The cool leather rasped against his claws as he held it up in the dark. He almost regretted even picking it up in the first place. 

Almost.

He had been innocent to some of the incredible storylines behind his adopted mother, but now? Now he thought he understood her better, and maybe feared her just a little more. The journal wasn’t heavy, but it weighed on his mind all the same. Past Velvet’s depression must have rubbed off on him. 

Spike’s feet met carpet, and he carefully stepped on his toes, noiselessly making his way to the chamber’s door. One last thing, though: Spike plucked his messenger bag by the foot of the door and stuffed Velvet’s journal inside. After all, a boring old bag would attract far less attention than a book in his claw.

Okay, more like two last things before leaving.

Spike stepped over to Twilight’s writing desk, deftly unclipping her keys from a side pocket in her saddlebags before covering them in a tight fist so they wouldn’t jingle. He’d hate to have to smash the Sparkle house’s windows like a cat burglar.

He glanced one last time at the six beds behind him. Their breathing cadence hadn’t changed.. Thank Luna for alcohol…and, well, the workload of officiating in the Gala. He hadn’t been wrong when he’d guessed they would need to stay the night after such an affair.

As Spike pulled the door open, the base whispered across the fibers of the carpet. The hinges didn’t make a sound, but that was because he had snuck back during the Gala and applied some fine machine oil. Spike hoped that when all this was over, he wouldn’t be naming that door “Chloe” or something…

After clicking the doorknob back in place, Spike held his claws up to his face, releasing a relieved breath into his palms. 

“Okay…” Spike smacked his lips and scratched his tongue with his teeth, while he waited for his eyes to adjust to the glare. Nothing but doors, light fixtures and various banners along the corridor. Oh—and the decorative weapons. Once more scanning the hall, and finding that the only shadows belonged to him, he turned to his left and made for the castle’s main staircase. He hadn’t just chosen the butt crack of Luna’s night because Twilight and friends would be fast asleep; it was also time for the shift change. Spike blinked. He was successfully sneaking! Velvet and Daring’s journal had actually taught him something. 

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that…

After a walk that seemed a bit too long for his liking, Spike peered over the balustrade near the top and studied the main atrium below. The silent emptiness seemed to swallow him. Just a few hours ago, this room was packed with ponies, tables, drinks, and hors d'oeuvres. Now? There wasn’t even a single drop of spilled Smooze. 

Where were the guards? The maids and caterers were likely off shift, but what of Luna’s nightwatch? Spike swallowed, looking over his back. Shadows danced in the hall…or was that just his imagination? At any moment one of them might come alive, belching forth a batpony guard with fangs flashing to drag him to the dungeons. 

Spike shivered. “Keep it together, Mr. Brave and Glorious! Just remember, if anypony crosses your path, I’ll just tell them I was heading to the kitchens for a midnight snack.”

Scanning the atrium one final time and detecting no movement, Spike crept down the grand staircase, keeping low until he finally made it to the ground floor. There was only about fifty feet to the main entrance. Looking at the archways to the left and right, feeling prickles on the back of his neck, Spike took his final step. 

Any moment now…

Spike’s foot hovered, still several inches off of the atrium floor. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he started to rap his knuckles against the side of his head. 

C’mon, Spike! What are you afraid of? 

He rapped his knuckles a little harder. 

Be like Velvet—she took adventure head on, and lived to tell the tale! She even saved Daring Do a couple of times! Spike drew in a deep breath. This was no time to get cold feet. He was going to march right across the atrium and head right out the main door.  

A breath across his neck.

Spike whipped his head around. Icy blue eyes glimmered back. Somepony was standing behind him—somepony wearing a hood. 

“WAAAUGH!”

Spike landed in a painful heap. His tail bunched up under his hind end. The echoes bounced off the stone and crystal walls, but he didn’t care. He screwed up his eyes, shutting them tight.  Trembling, the messenger bag carrying the accursed artifact slipped from his sweaty claws. His breathing came out in chaotic, audible gasps. 

Spike, the World’s Bravest DragonKnight, had been vanquished. 

“Please! I-I-I’m sorry, Mom! Take it back—just don’t shoot me or zap me with your electricity…or run me over with Evy Junior!”

Seconds seemed like hours. Sentences gave way to wordless whimpers.

“Mom?” The hooded pony trotted over to Spike, using a hoof to pull him back to his feet. Her high-pitched, bubbly voice seemed to brighten the room just a little. “And what’s an Evy? Geeze!” 

She brushed the hood backward and shook her head. A curly, neon pink mane poofed out, freed from its cage. Spike could’ve sworn he saw bits of confetti coming out of Pinkie Pie’s mane as she glanced aside, giggled to herself, then looked back at Spike.

“And you guys say I’m random.”





Spike’s shoulders sagged as he tried to calm down his breathing. “Pinkie? What in Celestia’s name are you doing sneaking up on me in a hooded robe? You shortened my life by like a thousand years!”

Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Well, duh! It’s cold in the castle at night! Do I look like I want to be turned into a frosty-freezy Pinkie? Ice cream is already cold enough!”

Spike raised a brow. “Okay…fine. Why are you sneaking around instead of sleeping?” Spike made a show of dusting himself off, trying his best to look nonchalant. 

Pinkie chuckled as she leered back at him. “Well, I could ask you the same question. I mean, you even have a cat burglar bag!” She poked at it, and Spike pulled it back reflexively. “I mean, why do cats burgle, anyway? Ever thought about what a funny word ‘burgle’ is? Burgle burgle burgle burgle burgle burgle…not that I’d condone that sort of thing.”

“I…Well I used to live here!” Spike grasped for something more to add. “And besides…it's been a while since I’ve been able to say hi to Stella. We never cross paths anymore, what with her being a guard in the Nightwatch!” 

There. That would make for a good alibi, right?

“Okie-dokie-lokie!” Pinkie reared back and plopped an explorer’s hat on her head. Spike’s eyes bulged as he looked from the pith helmet down to a compass that had somehow appeared in his claws.  “While you’re hunting for Stella, I’m hunting for the exceptionally rare, the exceptionally mystical and dangerous Caramallow Mint Delight! Mmmm!” Pinkie’s tongue lolled out obscenely. “Deadly sugar comas…” 

The world is full of deep dark mysteries—mysteries like: “how was Pinks this wound up at just after two in the morning?” Spike shook his head to clear it, before a pink hoof suddenly looped around the back of his neck and started to pull him towards the kitchens at the east end of the atrium. Spike could’ve sworn he heard the sound of a fishing line being reeled in.

He tried to pull away. “Well, what about the Night Watch? Aren’t you worried you’ll be caught?”

“Caught?” Pinkie audibly snapped away from Spike. “I could use an escort—right into the kitchens! It’s like those big box stores where all you want is an associate and there’s none to be found!”

“Big…box stores?” Spike scratched his head. 

“So I sneaky-sneaked my way to the castle kitchens, all the while hoping to get somepony’s attention—come on, guys! You’re no fun at all!” Pinkie concluded by shaking her hoof at the archway leading to the kitchen. “And then I saw you.”

Spike gritted his teeth. How to lose the Pink One? He glanced aside. To even attempt to predict the Pink One’s thoughts was a fruitless endeavor, but it was tempting all the same. “So you decided to scare me half to death?”

“Not exactly... But if nopony’s coming after you shouted like that, then nopony is coming! This is the Canterlot Royal Guard, Spike!” There was a hint of a snicker in Pinkie’s voice. “They couldn’t even catch a Diamond Dog in a clown outfit!”

Pinkie’s chuckle transmitted itself to Spike. “Yeah. I guess not.” Twilight’s bad influence was striking again. 

Wait, was that mist flowing across the atrium floor new, or…?”

A mare’s voice whispered from the mist. “If you two must know, the Night Watch doesn’t deem you a threat. Just…clean up after yourselves when finished, m’kay? Oh, and Stella sends her regards.” 

Spike blinked, then jerked his head back to Pinkie. When did they start hugging each other and trembling? “M’kay!” they both replied. The mist wafted back the way it came. 

Score One for the cool magics of the Night Watch. And…there was actually a Stella on shift? Huh. 

Spike looked down at Pinkie’s leg. It seemed to wrap more like a noodle than an articulated appendage. He pushed her hooves off of him, mystified at how they wobbled before retracting to a normal length. Apparently, Pinkie’s hugs cause contact highs.

“Aaanyway…I already checked the kitchens earlier for s’more-flavored ice cream—they’d never heard of the stuff. Can you believe it?! How do the nobles live with themselves?!” Pinkie threw one foreleg into the air. It wiggled again, this time from the inertia…

Spike scratched the side of his head. The limb seemed to make a sound like bouncing jelly. Was he just hearing things?

The Pink Creature’s eyes widened at the offending appendage. “Well, that’s new.” She waved her foreleg again, this time more slowly. 

“What’s new, rubbery hooves?” Spike studied the limb with consternation.

She waved the hoof back at him. “Nah. It’s just not supposed to make that noise.” Pinkie gasped, her eyes popping wide. “Oh, no! This is Stage One of Caramallow Mint Delight Withdrawal!”

“Cara—what?”

“You mean, you haven’t read about this in one of Twilight’s books?” Pinkie began raising her hooves upward. “Stage One: flaccid paralysis; Stage Two: mood changes! But then, there is the dreaded Stage Three!

“W-what is it?” Spike leaned forward—wait, why was he even invested in this subject? “Softening bones?”

“Bones? No, silly! SEVERELY UNSHORN FETLOCKS!”

Spike thought he could hear somepony chuckling down a corridor. 

“But there is still time! Hurry!” Pinkie gathered him up again, this time making for the main entrance. 

“But!” Spike sputtered, stumbling forward under Pinkie’s press. “Rubbery hooves!”

“Spike, you aren’t making any sense!” Pinkie spun around, prancing on strangely solid hooves. “Look. S’mores ice cream will do just the trick, but there is none of that here! If I can pick some up at the midnight market, an innocent life may be saved. We can’t afford escalation to Stage Four.”

Canterlot Castle’s empty atrium had a respite from the Pink One’s ramble. Spike planted his claws over his temples and shook his head. He could finally hear himself think. 

“Well, I’m off!” Pinkie snapped a quick salute. Her voice regained its telltale bubbly tone as she started bouncing out the door. “See ya later, Spi—”

“Wait!” Spike ran forward, thrusting his arm out to catch the side of the massive door. Turning her head to face him, Pinkie paused mid-bounce. Spike’s eyebrows furrowed. Her hooves weren’t even touching the—never mind. Just say your piece. Don’t question the Pink Creature. 

“This market…” Spike tapped his fingers. “Where is it?”

Pinkie’s body turned to orient itself correctly under her head before she plopped back down, sitting back on her rump. She pointed a wobbly hoof to the west. “There’s one on Honeybee Street, beside the detective office…though, that’s kind of a ways. It’s the closest Stop ‘n’ Trot.”

Now that changed things. Spike stroked his chin. “I, uh, also want a s’more...thingy—” Spike pointed a finger north.“—but I know a Barnyard Bargains that’s closer!”

“Ooh! Ooh! Filthy’s Franchise! In that case…” 

Pinkie’s tail twitched, then came to life. Spike yelped when it lifted him from the floor. It felt like sitting on one of the hay bales in Applejack’s farm, only softer—as if there was nothing under him to support his weight. Pony tailbones weren’t this long, right? 

The tail-seat then inverted, sliding Spike down onto Pinkie’s back. “Point me at ‘em, Spike!” declared Pinkie. “To adventure! Weeee!”

“Hold on, remember I’m just a — whoa-oa-oa-oa!” As the World’s Bravest DragonKnight rode his mount into the sunset-colored streetlights of Canterlot, his bottom clenched. 

If only the Pink Creature came with seatbelts.





Luckily for Spike, Pinkie Pie eventually slowed down enough for him to dismount and walk alongside her the rest of the way. He was relieved that Pinkie followed his suggestion, thereby providing him an escort to the convenience store located much closer to the Sparkle residence. The Canterlotian night was chilly, but at least he had company. Though, said company threw away any semblance of stealth and beat the concept mercilessly with a rubber hose. 

Random story Number Four was in full swing. “Party cannons? Sign me up anytime! I’ve raised that technology to an art form. But Icing throwers?” Pinkie waved her wobbling hoof as she ambled through the street. “Even I’m not silly enough for that. Who makes that sort of stuff: a mad scientist? A mad baker? A mad bakentist?!” 

A pause—the chilly night air thickened around Spike and Pinkie. Spike realized Pinkie was waiting for his reply. “Uh, bakentist…right.”

“Well it turns out…she actually was a mad scientist. Marine Sandwich: madder than a hatter in a moth convention! Who’d da thunk it?” An airy chuckle escaped from Pinkie’s face, eyebrows contorted in a mix of annoyance and amusement. She finally gave a fond sigh. “You should’ve been there, Spike. She was blasting everypony with this weird icing that froze you in place like…well…actual ice!”

Spike gave Pinkie a soft “heh” and managed a somewhat weak smile. At this point, Pinkie’s talk was more for herself rather than Spike, but eh, no harm in humoring her.

“I-I mean, you don’t expect a world-renowned celebrity chef to cackle stuff like ‘Nyeh heh heh! You all called me mad! Now you’ll serve as my culinary masterpiece…forever!’” As Pinkie waved a hoof upward into the air, her voice adopted a rasp—the same kind that Spike would sometimes hear on TV during Marine’s many, many talk show breakdowns. “It’d be like…if it turned out Trixie’s dad was part of the mafia! Or, or…say Fluttershy’s mom was some kind of soldier who wanted to silence ponies who knew of her dark past as a—”

Spike cringed and rubbed his neck. Pinkie’s ramblings hit the head of a nail she didn’t know existed. He was dealing with somepony else’s mother.

At the corner of Spike’s vision, Pinkie jerked her head to Spike. “Buuuut enough about me.” Spike’s ear fins perked as Pinkie’s tone shifted audibly. “What was a little dragon like you doing all alone in that big, big castle? Bag or no bag…” 

Pinkie’s eyebrows creased toward each other, her face softening along with her tone. Spike felt his face heat up a few degrees, but all he could reply with was a warbly hum. 

Pinkie grinned as her gaze grew distant, narrowing her eyes at something down the street. “Hmm, looks like something in that noggin of yours is keeping you up at night!” She turned and tapped a hoof at his head. “Well, you know what Granny Pie always said about opening the blinds to make the germs go away!”

Spike stopped. “I…do?”

It took a couple of seconds for Spike to decode Pinkie’s metaphor. Pinkie had stopped. One glance at her revealed that her ears had folded behind her head. Her voice dropped low, almost to a whisper. “But…only if you want to talk about it.”

Spike let out a long breath. He rubbed the film of sweat off his palms, and wringed his claws around the strap of his bag. “Uh…well…so…what do you do if you’re asked to keep a secret, but you think it shouldn’t remain a secret?”

Pinkie narrowed her eyes at Spike—a probing look, yes, but nowhere near as piercing as Velvet’s gaze from last time. 

Hopefully.

She jerked her head back toward the road, narrowing her gaze again. “Surprise parties are everything to me, Spike! Twilight would know…heck, you’d know. You both got one when you first arrived at Ponyville! It’s worked on everypony before, after all!”

Oh no, she’s wandered off to that weird place again. 

“But…Twilight’s different.” Pinkie stared off into the distance; her tone flattening out even more. She started walking again, this time at a sedate and pensive pace. Spike hurried to follow.  “And it’s not just because she’s a princess. Remember the picnic on the day of the Smarty Pants incident?”

Spike scratched the fin at the side of his head. “What are you getting at?”

“Well, let’s say I decided to make the picnic that day a surprise, instead of telling Twilight ahead of time.” She gave Spike a significant look. “How do you think she would’ve handled it?” 

Spike glanced downward again, this time crossing his arms. “With the way I could hear her brain cells snapping and popping while she talked to the puddle?” 

Apparently, Pinkie didn’t wander off to that weird place after all. “Uh huh. For a pony like her—one who’s always feeling like there’s a deadline or grade hanging over her head—the last thing you want to give is more things to worry about.” She then narrowed her eyes on him. “You didn’t Pinkie Promise to keep that secret, did you?”

“Wh-what? No, I’m not the one keeping any secrets, I just happened to…I mean...” Spike hissed and rubbed his eyelids. “What I-I’m trying to say is…there wasn’t anything about sticking a cupcake into my eye.”

Pinkie stopped again and extended a hoof toward Spike. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me about it. What you have to do, though, is weigh the benefits and risks of spilling the chocolate chips.”

“You mean beans.”

Pinkie scoffed and waved her hoof. “Ew, no! Chocolate chips are better. But yeah…” Pinkie paused and stared down the street again. “Keeping a secret for somepony else is harder than keeping your own secret. Remember when Twilight was trying to hide your crush on Rarity?”

Spike frowned, but then he recalled the image of Twilight dumping her head inside a potted plant. He smiled ruefully.  “What does this have to do with surprise parties, though?”

“Not everypony appreciates a surprise party. Not every secret should be kept. But surprise parties are fun! And secrets have their place. There’s no one-size-fits-all answer here, Spike.” Pinkie shook her head before she started walking again. “I might not be able to answer your question for you, Spike but you know who can help?”

Spike gulped. “Um…uh…the pony who's keeping the secret in the first place?”

“Uh huh!” Pinkie nodded, then scratched her mane. “This isn’t about ‘Mom’ being about to run you over with an Evy, is it?”

Spike gaped. “I…invoke my Right Against Self-Incrimination.”

Pinkie shrugged, then glanced upwards. “Do you remember Twilight’s Friendship Report after we first met Photo Finish?” 

Spike gulped and looked down. “Being a good friend means being able to keep a secret. But you should never be afraid to share your true feelings with a good friend.” There was barely any intonation in his voice.

“Bingo!” Pinkie pointed her hoof up, and Spike could’ve sworn he heard a ‘ding’ come from it. “If you’ve got doubts that it’s still a secret worth keeping, who better to talk it over with?”

Talk…to Velvet? He’d rather make like Night Light that one time and tell Luna that her stars were out of alignment. And yet… Spike couldn’t deny Pinkie’s words. Of all the things Pinkie said tonight, why did this have to make the most sense? “I’ll…I’ll try.”

“That’s the spirit!” Pinkie then nudged her head to an intersection a few yards away. “Uh…which way?”

“Oh, let’s take a right.”

In a few minutes, Barnyard Bargains sign came into view. The store’s tacky, familiar jingle faded into existence when Pinkie and Spike passed through some kind of proximity sensor. A pegasus stumbled out, slipping something into her saddlebags before she took wing, wobbling side to side before she righted her path. Spike cringed as her hooves clipped a rooftop antenna.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, Pinkie?” He looked over to find the pink pony giving him a level stare.

“Don’t let me catch you ever flying under the influence. Promise?”

“I don’t even have wings, Pinkie.”

“For now…” Pinkie sing-songed. “Promise me.”

“Yeah, uh… Cross my heart, hope to fly; stick a cupcake in my eye!”

They stepped through the door, Pinkie trotting forward to peruse the shelves while Spike pushed the door shut, getting a gust of biting wind to the face for his trouble. When he turned around, Pinkie was already down an aisle, her eyes twinkling as they darted between three bottles of caramel sauce: two on her hooves, and one wrapped in her poofy prehensile bangs. 

Spike placed a hand on the door, his breath freezing in his chest. He glanced back at the dark streets of Canterlot. Could this be the moment to give Pinkie the slip? One leg stepped to the side, the muscles coiling with tension. 

“Spike?” Pinkie’s ice blue eyes were looking right at him. “Before you go, I have a question.”

How did she… Oh, right. Pinkie being Pinkie. Spike’s heart had already plummeted to his stomach, but he swallowed anyway and gave a weak smile. “Uh, sure?” 

“My favorite is Hay Shires!” A third voice butted in from behind a shelf. Both Pinkie and Spike jumped. “Celestia’s Reserve is too pretentious. My dad always said that when in doubt, go for Hay Shires.”

Once Spike’s heart stopped racing and he took several deep breaths to suppress the urge to scream, the owner of the voice stepped forward. His jaw fell open. “Minuette?” 

With a gasp, Pinkie plopped the caramel bottles back on the shelf and pronked to the light blue unicorn mare, giving her a squeeze that made her tired eyes bulge out a little. “Hi, Mini! Okay, two questions: one, what are you doing here, and two, you know Hay Shires puts way too little cream in their caramel, right?”

Minuette rubbed her eyes, then levitated a steaming paper cup. “To answer your first question, somepony forgot to restock our supply of coffee, so my supervisor asked me to…well, you know. And as to your second question…what?” 

“Is this your normal shift?”

Minuette shook her head, yawning before she cracked a smile.

“…wow.” Pinkie let out a low whistle. “On Gala night? What kind of no-good meanies do you work for?” 

Minuette gave a weak wave of a hoof. “Eh, one of my co-workers discovered one of Star Swirl’s old time spells last night. And since I’m the only pony in the library who specializes in time magic…”

Pinkie’s plot had plopped on the polished floor, wide eyes and upright ears absorbing Minuette’s story. 

She raised a hoof. “Okay, Minuette. Hold that thought! Spike?”

Pinkie was looking back at him. His claw back on the door—how did she know just when to look? He lowered his hand and waited. Pinkie’s face broke into a small smile.

She scratched at her mane for a second before grinning. “Tell her I said ‘Hi’ alright?”

Shaking his head, Spike smiled before snapping off a salute. “Will do, Pinkie. Until we meet again?” 

“You’re only a block and a half away. Good luck!”

“Thanks, Pinkie. You’re the best.” Spike breathed a relieved sigh. He didn’t know how this would’ve worked if he had tried to lose Pinkie entirely. At least she was supportive…

Spike slipped outside. He gave a final wave before he ran down the street, huffing as tiny, trembling legs carried him towards the Sparkle household. Time to go lone wolf.





Dodging the harsh yellow glare of streetlights, the dark, forboding Sparkle estate towered over Spike. On its polished white wall, two front windows stared down at him, while the front door taunted him—beckoning him to enter its maw. A film of sweat formed on Spike’s claws. 

‘W-what was I even thinking coming here? Mom came out on top against all those mercenaries and monsters. What if she thinks I’m a burglar?” 

He could just picture it: Velvet coming around a corner, horn glowing as she aimed a shotgun at his silhouette in a darkened hallway. Shaking his head to clear it, he gritted his teeth. He had come this far…

“W-wait.” Lowering his voice to a harsh whisper, Spike looked left, then right as he shivered in the middle of the sidewalk. “I’m going to need more cover!”

Spike’s dragon eyes zeroed in on a tree beside the Sparkle estate: a cypress with thick branches and leaf cover. One limb passed close to an attic window. He hustled out the streetlights’ way and snaked across the grounds. He looked around again, his heart fluttering with every step. The Sparkles hadn’t acquired a watchdog since he was here last, right? Or Celestia forbid, an automated taser drone. 

He hustled to the tree, rubbed the sweat off his palms, jabbed his claws into the bark, and pulled a few times. Sturdy—it’d do nicely.

In no time at all, Spike had climbed up to the branch he had marked as his goal. Sure enough, the branch crossed almost to within arm’s reach of the window. A ladder would’ve meant far less exertion and risk, yes, but that would’ve just attracted more attention. That, and…well, Spike didn’t exactly have a pocket dimension or something like that to keep a ladder in.

After creeping along the branch, Spike pushed a tuft of leaves down, just enough to keep the rest of him hidden while he studied the layout of the Sparkle estate’s west side. A window to the attic, lit from inside, loomed closer. Now that he was closer, his goal—and for that matter, all of the windows—seemed to be just a little further out of reach from the branches. Spike smacked his lips. No matter: at least he wasn’t under a spotlight anymore, and the tree made for a good, concealed observation post.

No signs of anypony awake. They must’ve left the light on.  Part of Spike wanted to jump down and head straight for the front door, but another kept him clinging onto the branches. 

Maybe there was somepony awake? He made up his mind to wait thirty minutes. If the light remained on the entire time, then they were likely in bed and had forgotten it. Spike retreated from the end of the branch, leaned onto the trunk, and sat down. “It’s not like you’re breaking into Queen Chrysalis’s hive or anything,” he reprimanded himself with another harsh whisper. “This is one of my childhood homes, and these are ponies I can trust! Right?”

Spike’s head drifted downwards. The stare Velvet gave him two weeks ago flashed in his mind. What was really behind that stare? Did she trust him?

Frankly, he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself.

Spike limply took Velvet’s journal out of the bag. He stared at its cover from his slumped posture. Two weeks of hiding somepony else’s semi-shady past was nothing compared to that somepony else hiding that past for more than twenty years. Velvet couldn’t have been doing this only for herself. There had to be some other reason.

But what could it be? And going back to Pinkie’s point, what would happen if Velvet’s secret got out?

His mind and stomach tied itself into knots trying to come up with an answer to the question. But…nothing. Spike didn’t want to admit it, but Pinkie was right.

He’d have to talk to Velvet…

…sometime…

…someday.

Spike glanced back at the direction of the Barnyard Bargains, puffed out a strained breath, then returned his gaze at the Sparkle Estate. Time wasn’t so much a concern right now. Pinkie would have his back.

Some light from the streetlamps leaked through the cypress’s leaves. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for his vision to read Velvet’s scrawled account. Thus far, he hadn’t had enough opportunity to finish the darn thing. Could he actually return it before seeing it to its conclusion? Hiding a book from the Princess of Books for two weeks hadn’t been easy. Heck, with Twilight calling him every other hour, he’d spent more time hiding it than actually reading it. He’d be glad to slip this burden off his shoulders.

But without finishing? Something stirred him to press on to the last section. Maybe it was the fact that tonight would be the last time he’d see the journal, and his gut wanted him to make it count. Maybe for all the unease the journal gave him, reading it was somehow…therapeutic.

Dear Journal,

Fuck…when did that pegasus smash through the window of the Vanhoover hotel again? Three days…four days…a week ago? 

Whatever…point is, I kinda get now what Daring meant when she told me that “most ponies would crack in the first leg” back in the San Palomino Desert. And it’s not even just because of Evy or Rapids or…

If I knew how to write sighs in a book without coming across as a total nerd, I would.

I should’ve thought of this sooner. I should’ve thought of this while I was still on the train. I should’ve thought of this before I lied to Night Light. But better late than never I suppose. 

Why does Daring Do do what she does? 

Sounds like a Magic Kindergarten tongue twister, I know, but…like, what pushes her? What fuels her? It’s crazy enough to jump into an action movie come to life once, but Daring…she made it her life’s work. How does she not crack after two billion bullets, three million explosions, one thousand collapsing ruins, and a hundred fallen allies? 

I guess I’ve been so busy getting enraptured by that same action movie come to life that I’ve never really stopped to think about its wider purpose.

And Celestia, do I have a lot to think about…

How I ended up here…

Why I ended up here…

Would I ever see my Night Light again…
> Chapter 21: The Returning Storm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Keep to the left.” Daring Do pointed a hoof at the highway ahead. She leaned forward, blocking the right road from Twilight Velvet’s peripheral vision. Velvet's hoof jarred as she downshifted, the jeep's transmission buzzing as she slid back into second gear. Tires skidded in the dirt before biting down again, wrenching the occupants as the jeep veered left of a fork. The flame fougasse behind her clanged and hummed, and its flammable mixture sloshed in sync with each turn of the steering wheel.

A light drizzle set the stage, and Velvet had a front row seat. As much as Velvet tried to keep her gaze centered down the middle of the road, her eyes kept wandering to the edges where the bodies were, their moldering forms marked with fading stains of red. The walls of the buildings flanking the road were dappled with bullet holes and burn marks. A couple were nothing more than mounds of rubble. Velvet swallowed a lump in her throat. When she signed up to be a science journalist, she didn’t think it came with the side hustle of being a war correspondent.

“You know, uh… When Haribon said this part of Durio City was deserted, he wasn’t kidding.” Daring forced a smile as she put a hoof to her chin. “Still, I wonder why the insurgents or mercs would just…abandon their territory to the crows?

Velvet gave no reply. Daring watched her for a few moments before slumping backwards.

“Uh…you thought of a name for this baby yet?” Daring patted the side of the jeep with her hoof. “Hm, how about ‘Allan?’” She looked back and flapped her wings a couple of times to lift herself up to get a better view behind the seats. “Think I should’ve stuffed your rainbow eucalyptus branches into the toolbox instead of just letting them sit under Allan’s back seats?”

Daring only got a huff. Velvet stayed hunched over the steering wheel.

“I see how it is…” Daring looked away and rested her head on a hoof. 

Velvet glued her eyes to the road and eased off the gas pedal, brows furrowing closer together. Her lip quivered, and she blinked a couple of times. The matte gray cloud cover over their heads hadn't abated since yesterday, and neither had the one inside Velvet’s own. 

There was an intersection up ahead, still quite some distance away. Velvet scoped the three roads ahead. Left led to a forest—that was a no-go.

If she kept straight, they’d be heading down through more of the same: a deserted highway that eventually disappeared behind a wrecked building. 

The last road made Velvet lean forward. Her ears perked up. That radio tower near the road…did one of its beacons flash?

A splash of green blinked at the top. Velvet trained her gaze on the structure. It’d be a long shot, working with an obsolete, rusting pile of scraps, and Haribon did say last night that all comms towers were out…but anything for Night Light. Surely, he’d be able to say something to calm her troubled mind…or his. Besides, what did Haribon know about electronics? He wasn’t an engineer or anything—just a politician, and those folk were completely, honestly, totally 100% trustworthy.

But first, an alibi. Daring wouldn’t stop for a conversation that she wouldn’t be able to see the end of, but maybe she would stop for something shorter…

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” declared Velvet, not even turning to look at Daring.

At the corner of her Velvet’s vision, Daring raised an eyebrow. “I told you to go before leaving Waling-Waling’s place.” 

“You’re not my fucking keeper, Daring.” Velvet’s ears twitched as she fidgeted in her seat, a tinge of venom in her voice.

“All right, all right. I guess there’s no rush.” Daring rolled her eyes, then straightened herself in her seat. “Volt’s goons don’t have any way of knowing where the Spectrum is after all.”

The jeep sputtered to a crawl before finally stopping next to a concrete wall riddled with bullet holes. “I’ll keep watch.” Daring whipped a pistol out. “This is usually the part when somepony tries to get the jump on us.”

After Velvet exited the jeep and her hooves touched gravel, she turned to the wall. One half had been blown clean off, the blackened, exposed rebar blocking part of Velvet’s view of the radio tower. It wasn’t far—just a short gallop down a dirt path flanked by a few shrubs. The light at the top of the tower sent a glimmer in Velvet’s once dulled eyes. Daring blew a tuft of her mane, still scoping the other side of the road. 

Legs tingling, Velvet trotted behind the wall, then focused at the base of the tower at the end of the dirt path. She didn’t need to go now—in both senses of the word—but two days since she’d last talked to her fiance had turned to…what, four? Five? At the very least, she wanted to hear his voice again. 

A cool wind rustled the shrubs alongside the dirt path and sprinkled drops of drizzle on Velvet’s fur, making it stand on end. She sucked in a breath. Daring wouldn’t be looking away forever. Time to make her move.

The howling wind and rustling reeds drowned out Velvet’s gallop. She looked back; Daring hadn’t swiveled her head to her direction. So far so good…for now. Everything around Velvet—the other buildings, the chain-link fence, and its open gate—blurred and faded into the wayside. All that mattered was the tower and the open door that hopefully led to the control room.

Upon stepping on the cracked, moldy concrete floor, Velvet’s hoof slipped from under her. After getting her bearings and slowing to a trot, Velvet approached a console. She sweeped a dusty piece of tarp off with her hoof, her snorts and coughs overpowering the dripping of rainwater just beside her. “AetherLab Model 600—this crap’s older than Inkwell…” she muttered to herself while flicking a few buttons and tapping a microphone on the console. 

Nothing. Velvet pounded her hoof on the console and seethed. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. 

There was a fuse box a few feet away to the left. Velvet leaped towards it and yanked it open. After she skimmed through the fuses with her eyes, magenta magic—infused with brilliant blue, crackling arcs—streamed from her horn and into the fuses on the box. As each aetheric wisp slithered into each fuse, they sent a familiar buzz to Velvet’s brain—all of them except… 

“There!” She zeroed in on a fuse at the lower right: the one that failed her aetheric current check. Shouldn’t take too long to replace…

Her magic twisted out the offending fuse, followed by another fuse labeled “BATHROOM” in marker. “No, I don’t actually have to go…” Velvet muttered. “....but you do, pal.” After switching out the broken fuse with the working one, Velvet narrowed her eyes at the main switch and puffed out a breath. It would be good to hear his voice again…

…hopefully.

Cerise magic tugged the switch from right to left. Something hummed, and a red light flashed in the console. 

Something snapped. Velvet jumped. A second snap—magenta arcs flew from wires coursing out of the fuse box and into the console. The light on the console continued to flash. Velvet staggered back as more magenta arcs sputtered out—this time, from the console itself. Crap! No no no no no—”

The crescendo was brief. 

The console exploded. The room shook. Velvet shielded her eyes and folded her ears. Trembling breaths she didn’t realize she was holding escaped her mouth.

When she could finally open her eyes again, thick white smoke swirled around the room. Apart from a few white sparks sputtering from the dying console, Velvet couldn’t even see her hoof in front of her face. Her chest heaved, and she gasped for breaths under the all-too-familiar suffocating odor of burning electronics. “That…I thought this was what I needed to do!” Velvet cried out. 

Where did she mess up? Maybe the fuses in the carton were bad? Maybe she didn’t plant that fuse in properly? Or maybe Haribon was right all along, and the tower was beyond saving? Velvet croaked and rubbed her neck.

A scratchy voice pierced through the smoke before Velvet could answer her own questions. “Vel? Vel, you in here?! I didn’t see where you went. What is—”

Daring’s silhouette landed on the floor. After fanning the fumes away with her wings, Daring darted her head across the room: first at the fuse box, then the smoking console, and finally, the guilty party.

“Oh, Celestia, what did you just do?!”

Several breathy, wordless stutters dotted Velvet’s speech. “I tried to let him know… I’m sorry, Daring! I had to try… I-I-I didn’t think—”

“Yeah.” Daring clicked her teeth. She trudged over to Velvet and jabbed a hoof in her chest. “You didn’t.”

The sound of crunching gravel seeped in from outside. Hoofsteps…

“What was that?!” a stallion’s voice called out.

“Na’ay nagbuto didto!” replied a mare’s voice.

“Tell the others to come out and regroup on me!” 

“Party crashers,” Daring snarled. She pushed Velvet’s head down behind the smoking console and joined her, training her pistol on the entrance. 

Just outside the door, two silhouettes danced at the far corner of Velvet’s vision. She cowered behind Daring as the golden guardian angel crept to the side. Squinting through the smoke, her rosy eyes narrowed at the door. Daring’s muscles coiled like a steel spring, ready to leap into action to rain death down on their foes.

Velvet took in a shaky breath. She blew their cover. All they could do now was go down fighting.

A rumbling, otherworldly hum beamed from above. Daring and Velvet looked up. A swirling disk of a blackish void—large enough to fit a foreleg through—gobbled the light around itself. Both ponies stepped back. Of all times, why did the rematch have to begin now?

Daring and Velvet traced the path of something falling out of the portal and rolling to their hooves. They only had time to blink. 

The object hissed. Dark violet mist flushed out the top of the grenade. Both ponies flinched, hacking and coughing. “H-h-hold your breath!” Daring gasped out.

Velvet gagged. Her chest felt cold, and her eyelids grew heavy. Her knees gave out from under her. Daring’s warning had come too late.

Velvet’s eyes fluttered. Impulses from her brain stopping just short of reaching her muscles. As the gas swirled into her nostrils, it flicked switches off in her mind.

It beckoned…no, commanded her to sleep.

A gunshot echoed through the room. Further away, Daring narrowed her eyes down the sights of her pistol and gritted her teeth. She pulled the trigger once more, a bright yellow glare and a boom once again surging through the room.

But she couldn’t hold on forever. Her front hooves trembled, and the grip on her gun slackened.

The pistol fell with a clatter. Daring’s head hit with a painful thwack.

Now everything, not just Velvet’s peripheral vision, was blurry. Two ponies in combat fatigues and gas masks strolled inside, submachine guns hanging from straps on their chests. As Daring crawled towards her fallen pistol, the first masked merc kicked the gun away…then kicked Daring in the head. The mercenary’s blue goggles were no surprise to Velvet: the memory of her first encounter with Nightshade was cauterized into her brain. Plus, nopony else in the crew probably knew that black magic bull.

The second pony, though… feeble alarm bells rang in Velvet’s brain. She hadn’t seen her for…what, four years? Four days? Even time itself congealed into a sludgy mass. Still, if the brick-red braid-and-bun combo wasn’t enough to clue Velvet in, the glare the orange earth pony gave to Daring…then her…sent a cold shock down Velvet’s spine.

Terra Alessandra Volt faced Nightshade and nudged her head to the direction of the door. After Nightshade gave her superior a nod, Volt bent down, scooped Daring over her back, and carried her out the door. As Velvet’s eyes rolled up to her head, Nightshade craned her neck down and gave Velvet her own take of Volt’s cold gaze.

“How’s it feel?”





This wasn’t like the movies. 

Twilight Velvet’s return to the waking world was a painfully sluggish crawl. She couldn’t speak. She could barely think. Her limbs hung limp. All she could move were her eyelids and neck, and even then, it was barely more than a twitch.

The only switches that seemed to be flicked back on were her senses. She could feel herself being carried over somepony’s back. Dirty, chipped tiles slid across her vision, while a deluge of echoing yells battered her frail ears. Velvet’s eyeballs ached and protested when she strained to turn them upwards to the sources of the sound.

Dirty tiles were soon joined by dirty walls…and rancid odors.

Behind several bars, a filthy, ragged earth pony gasped for breath. Blood trickled from his scalp, the wound concealed only by the matted, twisted locks of his mane. two insurgents, armed with thick bamboo shafts, surrounded him and mumbled among themselves, while a mercenary—at least, if the green camouflage was anything to go by—tightened the bonds behind the prisoner’s back.

The mercenary stood, gave the insurgents a single nod, then leaned on the wall nearby, wiping his bloodied hoof on his fatigues as he watched the insurgents raise their weapons. Velvet’s captor took a left, and the prisoner disappeared behind a corner. A scream ricocheted off the walls and pierced Velvet’s eardrums. A dizzying, nauseating pit lodged itself in Velvet’s chest. 

“No word from Phalanx Two yet?” said a mare’s voice. It traveled down the back of the pony carrying Velvet and vibrated into Velvet’s chest.

“Not just them. Phalanx One and the insurgents under them have been radio silent since last night,” another mare’s voice replied. This one seemed a few feet farther.

“You don’t think anything happened to them, do you?”

“Axehead’s from Volt’s best. One fedora-wearing earth pony doesn’t stand a chance against her, let alone the other Phalanx teams plus the insurgents.”

“Mmh, we all said the same about Daring Do. And it wasn’t a fedora; it was a…forget it. Just help me get this disruptor on the gray one, will ya?”

Velvet’s eyelids fluttered. She let out a single moan, and everything around her started to blur again. Thoughts coalesced into an incoherent sludge. Whatever knockout gas was left in her bloodstream wasn’t going to let her wrest control away so easily. The last thing she saw was a pony-shaped blob reaching her hooves out to touch her horn. One thought sparked in Velvet’s mind before she re-entered the darkness.

Some thrill ride this is turning out to be.





Blinding flashes, ear-piercing buzzes, and the sensation of a hundred knives stabbing her muscles heralded Twilight Velvet’s second, more sudden return. Her scream bounced around the walls and terminated in a hoarse croak.

The pain and buzzing left as suddenly as they came. Faint blue electric arcs twisted over her fur before disappearing into the aether. Still, a lingering tinnitus caused her to wince, and though she could move again, small coils of rope strapped her forelegs to a wooden chair, as did a larger rope wrapped around her barrel. It dug into her jacket—and her bare fur—with every heaving breath. 

Out—she needed out. 

Velvet grunted and gritted her teeth, but her horn felt numb. The nerves at her forehead would tingle, but on her horn itself? Nothing came out—not even a spark. Velvet whimpered. It was one thing to try on a Type 4 Cornual Aetheric Disruptor by herself in an expo, but to say that this time was different would be putting things mildly. 

A cool, circular…thing then pushed Velvet’s head upward. She traced the cold metal touching her chin to the orange hoof wielding it and finally…to the icy blue eyes of its wielder. Velvet trembled, and her eyes stung from the tears welling up inside them.

“You’re lucky.” Volt’s hoof twitched too close for comfort at a switch on her stun baton. One of the three mercenaries behind Volt—a blue unicorn mare wearing a boonie hat—gave Velvet a frown before walking away toward the cell bars. “This isn’t some terrible fiction where you two go on an adventure, beat the baddies and go home heroes,” snarled Volt. “You two should’ve been dead by now.” She spat on Velvet’s face. 

Somepony stirred at Velvet’s left. About half a yard away, Daring Do coughed, blood splattering on the floor. The light shining through a small window to Daring’s left illuminated the fresh red stain. “W-with the crew you're running?” Daring narrowed her eyes at Volt. “What did you expect?”

Volt neither moved her head nor shifted her facial expression. She simply eyed Daring. “That’s not quite what I meant.” With a nod from Volt, the insurgent beside Daring stepped forward with a grin.

A wet thwack, then a scream coming from her left, bounced around the walls of the cell and rattled Velvet’s ears. Blood trickled from the bamboo stick held in the insurgent’s hoof. Daring, like Velvet, hung her head and gasped for breath. Unlike Velvet, though, Daring still found it within herself to glare at the insurgent with an acidic frown.

A slap from Volt’s hoof twisted Velvet’s face away from Daring and back to the mercenary in front of her. As stinging pain spread across Velvet’s cheek, Volt once again locked eyes on her prey. “Don’t waste energy worrying about your friend. You better start worrying about yourself. Since you have a bigger mouth than Miss Piss Fur over there, let’s make it useful, shall we?” she said as her stun baton pressed on the underside of Velvet’s jaw. “Where is the Spectrum of Lightning?”

“Uh…w-well…I left it in my other jacket…”

Without needing a command, Daring’s head was introduced to the floor with gusto. Velvet’s chest froze. Her lip quivered, and she hung her head. Glimmer-less irises, blurred from the tears welling up on her eyes, turned to her mentor. Daring was looking at her through blood and tears.

“Don’t look to her!” Volt growled, slapping Velvet again. “Eyes on me!”

Daring coughed, mouthing a few words of encouragement. “Easy, Vel. Keep your trap shut. I got this.”

Velvet blew off a defeated breath; even if she wanted to spill the beans, Rapids’ death had long since strapped a muzzle over her big mouth.

“Hm, wrong question, I guess.” Volt lowered her baton and flicked the switch. Crackling yellow arcs swarmed around the coils. Although none made contact with Velvet’s skin, her ears folded back and her fur stood on end. While Velvet gritted her teeth and nearly closed her eyes, Volt’s stare had not changed. “Let’s start with something easier. Where’s Indra’s Bow?”

“I pawned it off to pay for salt licks.” 

Click.

Volt’s hoof barely moved an inch. The room flashed and strobed. Stinging pain and an assault of buzzes returned to Velvet’s world. Velvet’s shriek bounced around the walls, rattling her own ears.

When Volt flicked her baton off, Velvet shivered. Tears dripped from her face, forming a puddle on the floor. 

Volt jabbed her baton upwards. She leaned closer to Velvet and narrowed her eyes. “Listen, Sweetheart, I wouldn’t have kept you alive this long if you didn’t know where the Bow was. Let’s try this again.”

Velvet’s mouth opened…but instead of words, there were only wavering breaths. At the corner of her vision, Daring narrowed her eyes at Velvet and shook her head, tightening Velvet’s muzzle. Not that Velvet needed any help. What could she say anyway? Witty comebacks, false leads, a simple “screw you”—nothing of that sort could form in her mind, much less make its way from her brain and out her mouth.

Volt growled, then leaned back on the chair. “You think I’m just doing this because it turns me on? You think I didn’t try the easy way?” She fished for something in the chest pockets of her green fatigues. Velvet’s eyes narrowed at Volt’s hoof, then widened. 

“Ngrh…hey!” Velvet grunted and squirmed as Volt held onto two wrinkled, brown books. “That’s mine!”

Volt didn’t even acknowledge the protest. Her icy blue eyes cut through each line in Velvet’s journal—and into Velvet’s palpitating heart. Her hooves tingled when Volt turned the pages. The mercs now knew where she worked, where she lived…and whom she loved. Even if Night Light welcomed her back, she would spend the rest of her days looking over her shoulder.

Her life as she knew it was over.

Volt interrupted the silence by clicking her teeth. “And Slam Fire once said I have trust issues,” she mumbled to herself before snapping the journal shut in her hooves, then locking eyes with Daring. “What’s Uncle Ad going to say when he finds out you led another young pony to her death—this time, searching for an artifact he explicitly told you not to hunt down?”

Daring’s ears folded backward. “I wouldn’t be hunting it down if you and your goons weren’t planning to use it to raze entire cities. Pretty sure he’d understand.”

For a few short moments, Daring glanced at Velvet. The weight in Velvet’s chest seemed to lighten, if only slightly. 

“As for Vel—” Daring bit her lip and tried to lean forward to Volt, even though the ropes held her back “—she asked to come.”

Volt rested her head on her hooves and nodded. “Don’t they all? I’m sure you didn’t manipulate her in any way. Still doesn’t change the fact that you said ‘yes’—especially after Abyssinia.”

Daring’s ears stood up. She snarled. Her binds creaked with every jerk. “You…you shut up about Abyssinia or—”

Another thwack. Daring’s words dissolved into an agonized scream. It almost drowned out Volt’s sigh as she pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows at the journals on her hooves. “If either of your diaries could give me more info than just ‘Oo-Ya-Ngoh…’ wherever that is," continued Volt, "I wouldn’t have bothered with this shit. I would’ve just…you know. But here we are…”

The boonie hat mercenary turned to face Velvet once Volt trailed off. The sneer that had replaced her earlier frown caused a stabbing pain to radiate into Velvet’s chest. Volt glanced up at her before returning to her prey. 

“Well, let’s just say there’s a long line of ponies who want to avenge Fuze, Ivory, Miles, and all the rest.” 

“Don’t listen to her, alright?” Daring’s whisper was rewarded by another strike from the insurgent’s bamboo stick. A speck of blood splashed onto Velvet’s jacket. Meanwhile, Volt clicked her teeth, then chucked the journal over Velvet’s head. Velvet traced the path to a pile of equipment at the far side of the room. The journal burrowed itself beside Velvet’s saddlebags. So close…yet so far.

“Let’s get back on track, though.” Volt flicked her baton on again and leaned forward; its sparking, crackling tip drifted ever closer to Velvet’s thigh. A bead of sweat dripped from the tip of her snout onto the grimy floor. 

The stinging pain tore through her body. The whole world pulsed white and yellow. Velvet recoiled backward, her scream rattling her own eardrums. 

After Volt pulled the business end of her baton out of Velvet’s thigh, fresh yellow sparks—much brighter than before—snaked across Velvet’s fur. One illuminated a darkened patch of skin, the singed hairs giving off a nose-wrinkling odor. The spark burrowed into the burned flesh before dissipating into the aether. Stabbing, stinging pain shot up her leg, but Velvet could only let out a scratchy whimper. Sweat, now mixed with blood, once again dripped onto a rusty brown puddle on the floor. 

Velvet looked left. Despite the blood staining her mane, Daring was still groaning and glaring at the insurgent beside her. Where was her brilliant plan to get the two of them out?

Volt faced Velvet and opened her mouth, but a mercenary with a rather frazzled mane trotted into the cell and tapped Volt on the shoulder. After gesturing to the three guards at the entrance of the cell, Volt got up from her chair and talked to Frazzled Mane. The tinnitus drowned out most of their conversation—something about missing guards in the east district—but the echoing screams of other captives somehow powered through into her ears. 

“Hunong! Palihug hunong!” a stallion’s voice choked out, before giving way to blubbering.

“Wala mi nagbuhat nga sayop!” a mare’s voice snarled. The now-familiar whack of a bamboo stick cut off her next words.

Each cry pounded on Velvet’s brain like a broken drum. Some of them were probably survivors from yesterday’s flame tank ambush. Or maybe they’d been held here for Celestia-knows-how-long. In either case, the guards beside Volt didn’t even twitch their ears. One even leaned on the bars, straightening the thermal goggles on her helmet before levitating a file across her hoof.

Velvet shook her head. She and Daring threw themselves into the fire, but all those displaced and dead civilians—they didn’t sign up for this. She lifted her head to face her captors. 

“W-why are you doing this?! What did these ponies and mousedeer and…and whatever do to you or the insurgents bankrolling you? They don’t even know where the Spectrum is! Was it to…to protect your investment?!” Velvet paused for a moment, panting several times. “Nopony should have to die for a bunch of bits!”

All eyes turned to Velvet. Volt spun around. She raised one eyebrow. Her hooves shuffled on the tiles before she trudged toward Velvet. As Velvet trembled in her seat, flinging a drop of sweat and blood a few inches off the rusty puddle.

“Twi?” Daring whispered.

Velvet slowly pivoted her still-trembling head to Daring’s direction.

“Twilight Velvet, what are you doing?! I told you to shut up!”

Velvet gagged. Volt jabbed a hoof into her neck. 

The chair creaked. Velvet’s world toppled backwards.

Dull pain surged from the back of her skull as she kept her teeth gritted. When Velvet opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the ceiling. Blood trickled from Velvet’s nose and down the side of her face, sending a shudder through her skin. 

“Don’t patronize me!” Volt growled, looming over Velvet’s downed form as her hoof pushed against Velvet’s windpipe. “Since when did you care about who gets hurt here?! Since when did you care about Cutter? Or Ivory? Or Birdshot? Hell, how am I supposed to tell Fuze’s colts that their father isn’t coming back?!”

Velvet’s only reply was a gagging sound.

Volt spat, her hoof suddenly doubling its pressure. The smile she displayed was not kind. “Who am I kidding? You probably don’t even remember anypony named Fuze.” The hoof on Velvet’s neck trembled before it finally released, allowing Velvet to gulp sweet oxygen. The fire in Volt’s eyes only seemed to blaze brighter. “‘Nopony has to die for a bunch of bits?’ At least I don’t kill for fun like you and your friend!”

Faces flashed before Velvet's eyes—the merc on the train, screaming in agony as electricity surged through her body, the frozen scream of a stallion that had been turned to stone by her makeshift fulgurite grenade, the gurgling and choking of Grigory’s earth pony mate after she’d dropped onto him and crushed his spinal cord.

Then a conversation from long ago echoed in her ears like a taunt.

“That was amazing! Just…holy crap!”

“Dude, quit smiling like that. You look like you're going to cut somepony up with a chainsaw.”

“Ooh, I can't wait to do that! You've done it before?”

“You're not right in the head.”

“Never was!”

Velvet's vision swam with tears. Bile rushed up her throat, and before she could even try to suppress it, she turned and vomited onto the concrete floor, tears blending with a testament to her own self-disgust.

Volt snorted. “Finally. We agree on something.”

“I...I'm s-sorry!” Velvet gagged out.

“Yeah, you're sorry now that you've got a gun to your head!”

Blinding pain. Velvet cried out, confused by her own voice until she realized she had been hit. Volt’s other hoof cocked back, ready for a follow-up. 

“And as for your bleeding heart, what–” Volt scoffed. “Did you even know any Fillyppine ponies before you got a hold of Daring’s journal?”

Velvet’s lip quivered as she shook her head. Stinging pain surged from her cheekbone. Volt huffed and unleashed her second punch, this time to her gut. Spit and blood splattered on the floor beside Velvet’s mouth. “Don’t you dare give me this…this moralistic bullshit about descending from your Canterlot ivory tower to extend a hoof to some peasants in a banana republic you can’t even point to on a map! At least I don’t claim the moral high ground just to delude myself into thinking this ‘vacation’ was a good idea!”



“Hey!” Daring’s shout cut through the air, drawing Volt’s attention. “Leave her out of whatever game you’re playing! Vel, not a word, got it?—”

Volt nodded once, and the whacks from the bamboo stick once again echoed through the cell. As Volt continued to watch Daring suffer through the same song and dance, Velvet tried to speak, only to gag on a mixture of blood and saliva. She cleared her throat and tried again. “R-rapids…” 

Volt jerked her head back. “What?”

Steeling herself, Velvet groaned and creased her eyebrows. “I…I cared for her…helped her to find peace in the end…”

Volt’s eyes widened. 

Then she shook her head. 

The quietest chuckle caused Velvet’s ears to fold back and her heart to sink. Volt loomed over her, a hoof lodging against her throat again. She leaned down—enough that Velvet could see the scars on her face. 

“River Rapids loved working with me and my mares,” Volt cooed. “I gave her a home when her birth family first abandoned her. I didn’t make her join. Some of my mares would disagree, but I wouldn’t have even stopped her from leaving. You?” 

Volt snorted. She leaned in even further, the fire in her eyes nailing Velvet to the floor, and sweetly whispered words that chained Velvet’s soul to Tartarus. 

“You got her killed.”

With that, Volt pushed off and stood again, turning away in disgust. No further blows were struck, but Velvet would’ve preferred them now over this new pain she felt. Stabbing pain radiated from her chest to her ear tips and all the way down into her hooves. Her thrashing legs went limp. She hiccuped, whimpered, and sniffed, tears stinging her eyes. Even after Volt ordered the goggle-wearing merc to prop Velvet’s chair back upright, Velvet’s limbs hung from the sides, her neck drooping forwards in a slump.

“You don’t have a stake in this fight,” Volt said as she began to circle Velvet. “You never needed to be here. As far as I know, you’re just tagging along with Daring because adrenaline gets you wet. Rapids and you are cut from the same cloth. You could’ve joined her, you know…been part of our family—and instead you chose to destroy it.”

A single huff from the side cut Volt off. “Hell of a…a recruitment campaign…you’re pulling off now, eh?” Daring butted in.

Volt gave off a near-imperceptible hum before continuing “Not recruitment. Just giving your little protege some much needed hindsight.”

She planted a hoof at the bottom of Velvet’s chin and pivoted it upwards. Velvet sniffed. There was nothing to resist against Volt’s icy gaze.

“And hindsight is always twenty-twenty. You should’ve run back to your fiancé when you had the chance. You want to see him again, don’t you? Then give me what I want.”

Daring coughed, then scoffed. How was there still life in her eyes despite the blood seeping from her scalp? “Wh-wh-why would she?” She paused, gasping for a breath. “You just said you…you would’ve shot us in the head i-i-if you got…the intel you needed.”

Volt shrugged. “You’re right. I’m not going to let my mares pass up the opportunity for revenge. So let’s change the terms and conditions a bit.” She moved her head forward until her forehead touched Velvet’s, eliciting a whimper. “It’s too late for you, but not for him.”

Velvet’s ears perked up.

“Tell me where Indra’s Bow is, or even Haribon… and I won’t go after your ‘Nachtlicht.’ He won’t have to pay for your selfishness and idiocy.” Volt’s hoof slipped out from under Velvet’s chin, leaving her to hang her head once again. 

Her internal storm ravaged through her mind and silenced the shouting from the ponies around. Daring yelled something about not listening to Volt—that it was just another lie. Volt fired back, but everything else from that point didn’t register. Velvet slammed her eyes shut, and tears dropped to the floor. The world around Velvet faded into a congealed mass of muffled sounds and dark blobs.

Volt was right.

How could she have been so foalish? Velvet had it good back home. She could’ve been writing about Braytheon’s prototype drones. She could’ve been modifying Evy for the 60th Annual Ghastly Gorge Enduro. She could’ve been spending a candlelight dinner with Night Light, teasing him about choosing Canterlot University’s front lawn as a wedding venue. 

And she threw all that away for a smoldering wreck, a trail of bodies, and an undignified end in a filthy third-world prison. 

The least she could do was keep her fiancé from suffering a similar fate.

“ALRIGHT, I’LL TALK!” A tearing sensation ripped through Velvet’s voicebox. “IlltalkIlltalkIlltalkIlltalkIlltalk-alk-alk-alk… Just leave him alone!”

A deathly silence filled the room, broken only by Velvet’s panting breath. All eyes once again stared at her. A pegasus mercenary wearing a cap and a scarf stepped forward, his machine gun coming up. “Like hell you will!” Teeth gnashing, the merc sighted down his barrel, the cold and gray muzzle only inches from Velvet’s face. Quickly following suit, the merc’s comrades brought their weapons up as well, turning one gun barrel into three. 

Velvet darted a quick glance Daring’s way, finding that she had earned the glares of more than just the three mercs.

Volt stepped forward, her silhouette shielding Velvet from Daring’s acrid gaze, and brought up an assuaging hoof. “Gentlemen, I know you’re all eager, but let our guest of honor say her piece.”

Velvet slammed her eyes shut. Through the darkness and Volt’s towering figure, Daring’s glare continued to pierce into her core. There were no more calls to shut up—no point anymore. “I…I’m not lying, okay?” Velvet opened her eyes, continuing to stare at the rusty dried puddle on the floor. “Some abandoned pawnshop one block away from the Sineighese arch. You’ll find a cellar there…”

Volt clicked her teeth. “We should just kill her now,” she muttered under her breath. “Save us future headaches.”

Velvet sighed. That was it.

Cap and Scarf stepped forward. “Wait, didn’t the Phalanx teams want a go at her?”

“No no no no…” Volt muttered. “It’s not worth it.”

“They’re part of your best, you know?” Cap and Scarf’s voice softened. “And you promised Axehead…”

For several seconds, the cell fell silent, aside from the echoing cries of pain from outside. Volt sighed. “Fine, let’s talk it over.” She jabbed her baton under Velvet’s chin, once again pivoting it upward. Her all-too-familiar gaze caused Velvet to let out a shaky whimper. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Volt turned around and let Velvet hang her head. Each hoofstep was quieter than the last, the muted conversation between Volt and her cronies dwindling until it melded into the distant screaming in the background. Their glaring eyes gone, that only left Velvet with a more painful glare still coming from her left. 

“It was so simple. Why didn’t you listen?” A ragged breath escaped Daring’s mouth. “I was trying to get them off your tail…”

The cords around Daring’s hooves tightened as she seethed. Her bloodshot eyes seemed to pierce into Velvet’s own, all the way to her core.

“If anything happens to Haribon…that’s on you.”

Daring turned away.

Velvet’s ears folded back. The growing weight in her chest dropped her gaze back down at the floor. Weak coughs escaped her traumatized throat. No one was pointing a gun to her head anymore, but nopony wanted to talk either. Daring wasn’t in a listening mood; there was no Night Light to vent to; and Haribon—he didn’t deserve to be thrown under the bus like that. It was just her now—her and her big, fat, stupid mouth.





Twilight Velvet’s eyes gravitated from the blood puddle to the shadow of the window bars. Through a hole in the thick cloud cover, a thin ray of sunlight bounced off the floor and briefly dazzled her eyes. “At least I’ll die saving Night Light…” mouthed Velvet. 

She sighed. 

“Who am I kidding; I saved him by ratting out my two allies. He wouldn’t want to talk to me after that…”

The window flashed white. 

Velvet blinked. An afterimage lingered as a sharp boom, followed by crackling, pierced through the prison. Everypony jerked their heads to the window. A guard trotted to the window and braced his forelegs on the wall to get a better look while squinting to the outside world. He called over Volt and she peered out the window too. What was…?

“That’s not coming from the X-Ray,” the guard beside Volt muttered, “or it would've changed course and hit a jeep or something. That means…”

Volt dropped her front hooves back on the floor and faced Velvet and Daring. The corners of her lips turned upwards ever so slightly. With her head out of the way, Velvet could finally see the gray cloud cover of the outside world—and the pulsating trail of rainbow lightning cutting through the sky. 

“Looks like Haribon didn’t need you…and now that Indra’s Bow is pointing to the location of the Spectrum, neither do we.” She trailed off before turning around and whispering something to the boonie hat merc from earlier. Velvet’s heart began to race. How could Haribon activate the Bow and just…give up on her and Daring?

The rest of the mercenaries parted, and Volt began to make her way to the corridor. “We’ll deal with the missing Phalanx teams later,” she said to Frazzled Mane before lifting a radio up to mouth level. “Everypony not on guard duty, prepare to move out!”

“Wait!” Velvet jerked upwards. The chair creaked under her weight. “Wh-what about the deal with Night Light? You didn’t change your mind on that, r-right?!” 

Volt, Frazzled Mane, and the insurgent disappeared behind a corner. Velvet and Daring were all alone with the three guards. Velvet darted her head left to right. The guards were turning to face her. The corners of Cap and Scarf’s lips turned upward.

“Oh shit!” With every tug, the cords around Velvet’s hooves tightened. “Shit shit shit shit shit! Guys, you don’t have to do this!” Velvet’s voice cracked as she faced the guards. “Please! Please! Please don’t do this! Please don’t…”

“Shut up,” groaned Boonie Hat. 

Velvet wanted to comply, but she couldn’t. Her voice dropped into a whisper. “No. No no no no no no…”

Her throat seized as the barrels of three guns drew level with her once again.. “What?” The thermal goggle merc raised an eyebrow. “No quip about us overcompensating for something?”

Boonie Hat glanced at Thermal Goggles with narrowed eyebrows. “You too—shut up.” She then returned to Velvet and Daring. “Now, as for the both of you, you’re welcome to close your eyes…Or don’t; doesn’t matter to me.”

The last thing Velvet saw before complying was the hooves of all three mercenaries curling onto the triggers of their weapons. She hung her head and inhaled. 

Night Light…I’m sorry.

A thunderous boom bounced on the walls. Somepony yelled. 

Then the floor dropped from underneath everypony’s hooves.

“Shit! What’s that?!” Boonie Hat shouted as Velvet snapped her eyes open and puffed out her held breath. Shifting dust drifted from above her and onto the floor—wait, that hairline crack on the floor wasn’t there earlier…

The clapping of distant, outside gunfire and the slightest hint of static caused Velvet to glance out the window before directing her view back to the mercs. While Cap and Scarf fiddled with his walkie-talkie as it crackled to life, the others pointed their weapons out at the cell door and windows. “Mantle-Four, this is Charlie Oscar-One!” The stallion’s voice on the radio barely powered through the gunshots in the background. “Where the hell are you guys?!”

“We’re in the holding cell with the operational targets, why? What’s going on?” Eyebrows furrowing, Cap and Scarf leaned closer to the walkie-talkie.

More gunfire. A flash, then thunder, poured out of the window. In the background, a mare’s scream was cut short by a short burst of static. “Hold your position! Do not go outside! We’ve got contact with the X–”

Blinding white, followed by a boom, flooded the room. Velvet’s ears folded to the sides of her head. As she watched the mercenaries struggle to stand, the crack on the floor widened…and snaked to the wall and ceiling. 

“Oh crap…”

The floor jerked downwards again. More dust drifted downward. Concrete chunks crumbled from the ceiling and landed in front of Velvet, exposing the inner rebar. Her chair—and the floor it stood on—began to lean backward.

“Oh crap!”

The whole cell collapsed.

Velvet slammed her eyelids shut, but dust still made its way into her corneas. The cacophony of twisting metal, shattering tiles, and fragmenting concrete pounded her eardrums. She flexed her neck downward, but that did fuck all to stop the rubble from battering her jacket and fur. 

“Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap– agh!”

Her body slammed onto dirt. Her nose wrinkled from the dust that had been kicked up. Biting cold rain dampened her fur and made it stand on end. The sound of cracking wood coming from behind caused Velvet’s folded ears to twitch, and she tugged on her restraints.

The ropes were loose. Velvet gasped. A quick look behind her showed the splintered, fractured remains of her chair. The hell are you doing?! You’re free! Get out of there! Velvet’s mind screamed.

But she didn’t get up. Though her legs were free, burning, searing soreness kept them pinned on the ground—that, and her jaw dropped at the scene in front of her.

Storm clouds and smoke columns set the backdrop. Tracers zipped up the sky toward a bright pony-like shape surrounded by snaking electric arcs of many colors—no question on who that was. The Lightning Mare launched her bolts every which way. A couple of parked fuel trucks in the distance lit up in a fireball. Next to go were a team of insurgents firing at the Lightning Mare behind some sandbags. The lightning swallowed them while their colleagues galloped around in all directions. Some fired at the X-Ray—that worked so well before—and others focused on dodging bolts of lightning slamming the ground mere inches from their hooves.

She pivoted her head to the right. Cap and Scarf lay still, his namesake headwear gone and his mane stained the same shade of red as a nearby chunk of concrete. A few feet away, Boonie Hat barely had time to groan before she looked down at her hind legs: her panicked gasps soon gave way to screams. 

Blinding arcs of many colors swept over her hips. In their place, blue fur solidified into gnarled masses of grayish-brown rock. “H-help me! Help me!” Boonie Hat glared at the closest pony. 

Velvet felt her stomach twist into knots.

Boonie Hat’s next scream was cut short when the arcs reached her chest. She hacked and coughed, then her face contorted in primal anguish.

That was the last thing Velvet saw before she averted her eyes, gritted her teeth, and curled into a ball.

Too soon…this was way too soon.

Something smacked her in the back. “Sightsee later!” Daring snapped as she flew past Velvet, scooped Cap and Scarf’s machine gun from the ground, and pointed to a row of parked cars a few yards away. “Found our jeep; it’s this way!” 

Daring galloped two steps, bracing the two saddlebags on her back using both her wings.

But Velvet still didn’t get up.

It didn’t take long for Daring to turn around. One wing fluttered, and Daring’s jaw hung open before she growled. “Let’s hustle, Vel!” Daring tossed Velvet’s saddlebag toward her. It crumpled on the dirt in front of Velvet and kicked up a cloud of dust. 

Several shots rang out from behind. Velvet yelped and jumped. Bullets zipped past her and slammed into a nearby palm tree. “Operational targets are escaping, west gate!” shouted a distant stallion’s voice.

Daring fired a burst from the machine gun, downing the distant enemy, then snapped to Velvet. “Don’t make me drag you on a leash like a foal!” 

That finally got Velvet’s ass into gear. 

Grime clung to the fur of her sweaty hooves. At the back of the jeep, Daring lay on the trunk, the bipod of her machine gun extended as she fired. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air as Velvet slinked up the driver’s seat, turned the key, and then buried her face in her hooves. 

This wasn’t like the desert. Sure, it was still life and death, but she was just…going through the motions. That, and she had so many questions…like “why did the Lightning Mare decide to attack now?”

The rumbling of thunder above, not to mention a bullet perforating the windshield frame, snapped Velvet back to the real world. Answers would have to wait. She shoved the stick in reverse and slammed on the gas. The jeep lurched backwards before Velvet steered it to the side and toward the gate. Daring stood up. The bark of her machine gun clapped down five mercs ahead. The metallic odor of gunpowder caused Velvet’s nose to wrinkle.

A lightning bolt crashed a couple feet beside the jeep. The vehicle shook. Daring braced one hoof on the top of the passenger seat before hunkering downwards. From the rear view mirror, her eyes met Velvet’s.  

“What?” 

Velvet opened her mouth to speak, but her words melted into a sigh. Daring shook her head before rolling upright once again. Her machine gun clipped the wings of a pegasus at the guard post. 

Even after the jeep plowed through the chain link gate, Velvet’s sore forelegs gripped tightly on the steering wheel. Keeping her eyes straight at the road ahead, she fought the urge to bury her face in her hooves again. 

This wasn’t fun anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time.