> Rainbow Dash & Lightning Dust vs. Evil
>  by Argonaut44
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 01: The Equestria Games
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The light-bulb briefly blinked to life, before its pulse again began to fade and wither into oblivion. Its glass was half-shattered, dangling in the draft by the bathroom mirror. 
She was alone in the dark, having sought out some much-needed isolation after a day’s work under the sun. 
Lightning Dust pawed at her eyelids, inspecting her reflection before it disappeared with the light. She could still feel her flesh cooking, clad in her black spandex suit. The air was just as stuffy in here as it was outside, she realized, and her attempt at escaping the heat was all but in vain.
She sighed in exhaustion, yawning and reaching down for the tin flask in her duffel bag.
“Dang it,” she muttered, having forgotten she had drunk it dry that morning.
She had better not take too long, she reminded herself - the others were probably waiting for her. 
There’s still more work to do. 
Her legs were jittery, and she could hardly stand still while she went about washing her face and fixing the creases in her suit.
Part of her still thought this was all some elaborate prank. 
But the others were well-convinced the letters were real. Invitation after invitation, each from the Equestrian Athletic Association. They were practically begging for a yes. A slot in the Equestria Games, the greatest sporting event in all Equestria. 
Lightning scoffed. It was more of a joke, to think she needed the approval of some pompous, prissy executives, the same ones who had once turned a blind eye to her expulsion from the Wonderbolts all those years ago. 
But the Washouts were all the rage nowadays, the closest thing to a rival the Wonderbolts had ever known. 
And though Lightning may have been content to turn the Association down and keep some scrap of integrity, her teammates outnumbered her on the matter. The money happened to speak louder than she could ever have hoped to.
This year’s games would be held at Messara Island, a tropical ruin off the southwest shore of the mainland, baking in the summer sun. Ponies from all across Equestria had made the trip south for the games, including Princess Twilight Sparkle, Princess Cadence, and the now-retired princesses, Celestia and Luna. 
With their newfound global popularity, the Washouts had welcomed some new teammates to round out a proper roster. They currently sat at nine, though if their newest prospect’s broken tailbone healed a bit sooner, that would make ten. 
There had been pressure to sign new contracts, expand management, and sanitize their image, but the last thing Lightning wanted was for them to turn into a Wonderbolts 2.0. 
At the end of the day, it was Lightning who had the final say on the team’s decisions, and she tried her best to not let that power go to her head.
It was a miracle the Washouts were still together at all; the team had developed a bad habit of infighting, an unavoidable consequence of ten supersized egos colliding with each other on a daily basis. After three break-ups and three reunions, the only thing that seemed to keep them united was  contempt for the Wonderbolts. 
It had been three years since the Washouts first started making waves, though Lightning still had trouble opening up too much to her teammates, even to Rolling Thunder and Short Fuse, the two closest ponies she could call friends. 
Friends, Lightning thought to herself, rolling her eyes.
Friends just slow me down.
Still, she could not deny the begrudging affection she had for them, especially for the younger team members, who had half the skill and twice the arrogance. 
Whether it was recklessness, anger issues, or ego, Lightning had an easy time understanding why her teammates were given the boot at the academy. But the way she saw it, anypony could be the best of the best - something the Wonderbolts seemed to never have understood.
This would be the team’s first-ever race against the Wonderbolts, and together they had helped draw the largest crowd in the Games’ history. Among those in attendance were her teammates’ families and friends from far and wide. 
Lightning’s scowl hardened. 
She tried not to think about her father, about what he would have done. There was no point in it. 
But maybe, if he could see her somehow, he would know she had made it here, she had come all this way. 
She bit her lips and crossed her hind legs, laughing at herself for wanting to cry. 
She shook her head in frustration, wishing she could have earned him some more years, if only to bring him here today, if only for a single race. The best she could do was pretend.  
There was a time when this was all she ever would have wanted, before the Wonderbolts closed the door to those dreams forever. She would never fly with them. 
Perhaps flying against them was the next best thing.
She still remembered those smirking faces, and the rumors that she had drunk herself to death, or skipped town, or disappeared entirely. Blacklisting her from the Weather Factory, turning her friends against her, nothing was ever enough for them. Every time she thought she had found stability, the Wonderbolts reared their head in one way or another, eager to knock her back down. 
She laughed to herself in disbelief.
Like they even think about me at all.
She had tried her best to forget it all, to leave the Wonderbolts as a thing of the past and focus her sights on a new future. But though she would never admit it, there was still a terrible anger inside her, a need for revenge. 
She could have been so much more.
Maybe the others were right, she thought to herself, maybe these games won’t be a waste of time after all. 
Time to show the world what I’ve got. 





Old bandages came tumbling into a pile on the floor, where Rainbow Dash had a shaky grip on her back hind leg, stretching it forward in cruel contortions. 
“Ow!”
Vapor Trail and Soarin had just arrived in the locker room. In unison, they came to an abrupt halt, when the rank scent of sweat and blood hit them head-on. 
Rainbow glanced up at them from the bench, wiping her forehead with a rag. 
“Oh, hey,” she grunted, while writhing in agony. 
“My head’s still a little foggy from last night, but I’m pretty sure Doc said to let that heal,” Soarin said, bluntly, trotting over to his locker. Vapor Trail followed suit, climbing out of her jumpsuit. 
“I know what he said,” Rainbow snapped, grunting in pain as she readjusted her leg. The bruise on her leg was still visible, even after a week since the accident. “But I’ve got to be back in action by tomorrow. Can’t exactly wait around for a miracle.”
“The miracle was you surviving,” came Vapor Trail, “Forget the games, Rainbow. You’ve gotta take it easy. You might make it worse.”
“Not happening,” Rainbow rebuked, “The team’s counting on me. And all my friends already made the trip over here. I can’t let them down.”
Soarin shut his locker door, before chomping down on a sour green apple.
“Your funeral, Crash,” he laughed, “C’mon. It’s OK to sit this one out, it’s not a crazy big deal, y’know.”
Rainbow glared at him.
She eased up the tension on her leg, and sighed.
“Do you guys remember that last exhibition at Baltimare?”
“Sure. Fleet’s wing got stuck in the roller. I was laughing about it this morning, actually, D’ya remember the sound she was making?”
“Not that,” Rainbow said, shaking her head while Vapor Trail contained her giggling, “I finished fifth in my heat. I lost to the Baltimare Rec ponies!”
“So?”
“So, they used to never come close to me! Now, I could barely keep up!”
“No kidding. I wonder what those Baltimare ponies get fed.”
“It’s not just Baltimare. I can’t hit the same times anymore, you’ve all seen it. I get the wind knocked out of me, and-”
“You spin out of control, and almost get yourself killed,” Vapor Trail concluded.
Rainbow nodded, glancing at her bruised leg.
“We’re all getting older, Rainbow,” Soarin said, shrugging, “Can’t stay on top forever. Keep your head up. I won’t stop you if you try to race tomorrow. But the next time you have an accident, you might get less lucky than just a hit to the leg.”
Soarin trotted out of the locker room with Vapor Trail, while Rainbow remained on the bench.
She let out a string of curses under her breath, forced herself to her legs, and scooped up her bag. 





	Between sea-stained marble pillars, across broken battlements of limestone, hordes of ponies had drawn up together in the thousands, wading through pink clouds of sea-salt, sugar, and alcohol. 
Messara Island, once a derelict ruin of antiquity, had undergone a metamorphosis, now a bustling festival city of music, color, and delectable treats from near and far. Flags of royal purple, icy blue and sandstone orange billowed by the causeways and storied heights, overhead where ponies trotted through marketplace delights and hazy tufts of lavender fog. 
The ruins rose above steep cliffs that ran straight into the sea, whose wrathful tides splashed and scored the rock with feral ferocity. The arena itself, the centerpiece of the ruins, had required major reconstruction to provide for a proper sporting event. A field of grass had been planted in its center, surrounded by a rubber track, with each of its lanes colored pink, gold, red, and green. 
The Association had taken a risk with the choice of location; the island was previously uninhabited and over one-hundred miles off the mainland. But that risk had paid off, with tickets having completely sold out, earning a packed stadium of over 75,000 creatures. 
And one of those creatures, still exhausted after an early outing at the beach, still parched after hours spent wandering the festival, was particularly anxious to rush past the arena gates, as the midday crowd of ponies filed into the disorderly queue at a snail’s pace. 
“Hurry up!”	
Scootaloo darted through the crowd, careful not to let go of Sweetie Belle’s hoof. In turn, Sweetie was meant to hold onto Apple Bloom, and together they had weaved their way through the crammed cluster of creatures.
“Slow down!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, nearly losing her grip over Apple Bloom, who was busy apologizing to each and every creature they had bumped into. 
“We’re gonna miss it!” Scootaloo cried, clawing her way through the pack. 
There were dark bags sagging under Scootaloo’s eyes. Sleep was hard to come by these days, with the excitement having snowballed with each passing hour, each tedious moment before the first blow of the whistle, the first cry of the horn, the first shot of the gun. To bear witness to the Equestria Games was an honor that she did not take lightly.
A ticket and the price of travel cost her 3,200 bits, and three months of hard labor. Her aunts had insisted she earn the bits herself, a challenge that Scootaloo had stubbornly accepted. 
She had considered asking Rainbow Dash for some help, though Rainbow had been so preoccupied with training, she was rarely able to spend much time in Ponyville any longer. 
Slipping out of the crowd in a huff, stumbling and landing square on her face, Scootaloo was the first to emerge before the proper line to the arena gate. Apple Bloom fell out beside her, and Sweetie Belle came next, gingerly prancing out from the crowd. 
“Do you two always have to make a scene?” she groaned.
Apple Bloom beamed and rose up beside Sweetie, while Scootaloo took her time picking herself up to her hooves.
Sweetie gasped, noticing a sandy scratch on Apple Bloom’s foreleg.
“Oh my stars! We have to get you to a hospital now!”
“Don’t freak. Watch this,” Apple Bloom cautioned, before hacking up some spit to rub into the wound.
Sweetie’s jaw dropped in despair.
“Agh!” she choked in disgust, while Apple Bloom snickered away. 
They both noticed Scootaloo, whose eyes were still locked on the colosseum ahead, mesmerized by its sheer size. She may have never seen a thing so big. It was not of this world, she believed, rather some piece of forgotten lore, some divine seat of power, some celestial vessel of impossibility.
Towering statues of ancient gods stood on great stone pedestals on either side of the gate. The left, the stallion, was shaped with a coarse beard and eyes that pierced, his horn pointing to the east. And on the right, the mare, a pegasus with an angel’s wings, and a river-current mane flowing right back into the stone.
“Hey, Scootaloo, anypony home?” Apple Bloom smiled, knocking on Scootaloo’s skull. 
“My mom and dad visited this place once,” Scootaloo murmured, still fixated on the grandeur of the arena, “They never said anything about all this…”
“Better to have seen for yourself anyway,” Sweetie said, ushering Scootaloo to march up in the line.
Apple Bloom reached the ticket booth first, checking her shoulder to make sure Scootaloo wasn’t still daydreaming, and Sweetie Belle wasn’t still examining herself in her portable mirror. 
“...You didn’t forget the snacks, did you?” Sweetie asked, nudging Scootaloo in the side while Apple Bloom began chatting up the ticket pony. 
Scootaloo’s eyes widened.
“Scootaloo,” Sweetie said, her eyes widening in fear. 
“I thought you had them!” Scootaloo cried. 
“Scootaloo! I’m gonna-” Sweetie began, before Apple Bloom grabbed her by the hoof.
“I’ve got the snacks. Jeez. You two need to relax!” Apple Bloom laughed. 
They skirted up a short flight of stairs to reach the stadium seats. The arena was packed to the brim, ponies sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, theri chatter amounting to a thunderous rumbling that seemed to shake the ground. 
The turnout was twice as much as the last games Scootaloo had attended. And below in the field, were the competitors, working through drills and setting up tents to escape the blistering summer sun. 
“Scoots, c’mon!” Apple Bloom called, realizing Scootaloo was still lingering behind, her head swiveling all about, overwhelmed by the scope of the scene. 
“Are you alright?” Sweetie asked, as soon as Scootaloo could rejoin them.
“I’m just a little on edge, is all,” Scootaloo said, following the others through the gate, “...I mean, y’know, in her past three races, Rainbow Dash’s time in the exchange zone has been an average of two seconds slower! They’re gonna take her off anchor, I know it! And who’s gonna take her place? Fleetfoot? Thunderlane? What a joke! Have I even mentioned how badly Spitfire is running the Wonderbolts into the ground?!”
“Only about thirty times a day,” Sweetie rolled her eyes.
“Actually this’ll make thirty-two, ah reckon,” Apple Bloom said, counting off in her head. 
“I’m just saying, it’s only a matter of time before - oh my gosh! Mr. Hothoof! Mrs. Whistles!”
	Darting up two rows in the arena, Scootaloo practically leapt into the lap of Windy Whistles, who promptly spilled half of her popcorn.
“Hey kiddo!” bellowed Bow Hothoof, roughing up Scootaloo’s mane with his hoof. Windy was too excited to form any words, shrieking in excitement as she squeezed the air out of Scootaloo’s lungs.
Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle joined them nearby, waiting for Windy and Bow to finish fussing over Scootaloo, for nearly three minutes straight.
“We’re so happy you were able to make it!” Windy exclaimed, “Good heavens! We should’ve brought you with us! We just got so distracted!”
“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Whistles,” Scootaloo laughed, “Rainbow’s gonna do great!”
Windy had practically burst into tears, and hugged Scootaloo again.
“Stay out of trouble, now, OK?” came Bow, leaning in for a very formal hoofshake. Scootaloo giggled and nodded her head, before scampering off to join her friends.
They continued up the steps, up and up and up until Scootaloo felt like fainting. The stairs were seemingly unending, or at least until the glimmering gold railing of the royal pavilion revealed itself in the sun’s glare.
“There they are!” came a voice from above, the bearer of whom was obscured in the blinding sunlight. Apple Bloom recognized the voice without hesitation, as that of her own sister.
“Hey, sis,” Apple Bloom grunted, exhausted after the fatal climb up the stairs.
Applejack had jogged down the steps to inspect the three of them, and she didn’t take long to notice the scratch on Apple Bloom’s foreleg.
“I’m fine,” Apple Bloom said, before Applejack could even open her mouth.
Scootaloo felt the blood rush faster through her veins, as she caught up to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, closer to the very top of the stadium seats.
“Sweetie Bell!” exclaimed Rarity, with her hoof clasped over her mouth, “I was just about to phone the police! What could possibly have kept you so long!?”
Rarity flew down the steps beside Applejack, both of whom were glaring down at the trio with contempt. 
Sweetie Belle turned back at Scootaloo.
“It was my fault. Sorry,” Sweetie said. 
“No, it was mostly my fault,” Scootaloo interjected.	
They glanced at Apple Bloom, who already had her mouth stuffed with popcorn. 
“Don’t look at me. It was your fault” Apple Bloom laughed.
Applejack shook her head.
“Don’t do that again. You had us worried,” Applejack said, wagging her hoof at each of them. 
Up on the gold pavilion, Twilight Sparkle sat on a purple marble throne, beside her fellow guests of honor - Cadance, Shining Armor, Flurry Heart, Luna, and Celestia. They sat in a golden pavilion, beneath a velvet awning meant to spare them from the sun’s heart. Nearby, at the topmost seats, Fluttershy, Spike, and Pinkie sat together. Starlight Glimmer sat close by, along with Trixie, and the two of them were bickering nearby, caught in an intense argument over who had the better claim to the last crackerjack.
Practically bouncing up and down in excitement, Scootaloo eyes scanned the field below. They may have missed the opening ceremony, but she was just in time for the main event. 
She analyzed the Wonderbolts’ area of the field, watching as they completed their warm-up routines. She couldn’t find Rainbow Dash among them, however, to her confusion. Was she hurt? Would she be able to race?
Then her eyes fell further down the field, and she saw a familiar face, one she had dreaded having to see again.
Lightning Dust.
The Washouts had grown since the motley trio she had first been introduced to, though she recognized their leader as clear as day. As often as she would keep track of Rainbow Dash’s progress, she kept an additional, less-discussed record of Lightning Dust, whose stuntwork exploits were still as alluring as they had always been. The danger may have been daunting from a distance, though Dust’s sheer recklessness and neglect for the rules was like a breath of fresh air at times, amidst the increasingly stagnant Wonderbolts arrangements. 
Scootaloo’s eyes wandered back to Twilight Sparkle’s pavilion. Twilight herself was standing now, pouring a tall glass of champagne for Rarity, careful not to spill any in the wind. 
There was another pony beside her, laughing and grinning and pouring the rest of the glasses. Scootaloo did not recognize him at first, a tall stallion with a wispy grey mane, thin beard, and bright green eyes. That was, until she heard his voice. She had seen him on the television before - the president of the Equestria Athletic Association, the architect of the newly-invented games. Forecheck. 
“Highness, I trust everything is to your liking,” he cooed, dragging the last glass of champagne through the air in an aura of red magic. He planted the glass in Twilight’s lap, and waltzed around to her left side. 
Twilight allowed herself to take a sip, taking a sigh into the high-rise breeze.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” Twilight admitted, her eyes fixed on the fields below, “I only worry what plans you have for next year. I’ll remind you that the treasury’s nearly bone-dry already, thanks to these games.”
“Perfection requires sacrifice,” Forecheck grinned, scurrying back to Twilight’s front, “I assure you, the costs will be paid back tenfold, once all our revenue is collected. I’ve pictured it already. Your throne might be remade in solid gold, beneath chandeliers of moonglass and jewels from the east. No Equestrian queen will ever have known such grandeur. This, I swear to you.”
“A lovely dream,” Twilight said, retreating into her chair, “I’ll be happy to enjoy the show for now. And perhaps we can worry about the finer details at a later time.”
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Forecheck said, bowing, “Fortune awaits.”
Twilight smiled, weakly, hoping Forecheck would flee the pavilion and free up her view of the games.
Scootaloo watches the stallion skulk out into the sunlight, his plastered smile slipping off his face, his eyes darting wildly back and forth like a clock pendulum.
“...C’mon, I wanna get a closer look,” Scootaloo said, turning back to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. 
“Sure,” Apple Bloom asked, rising out of her seat.
The three of them dashed back down the steps to the front railing, struggling to see over the edge. 
Scootaloo had to stand on her hooves to see over the pony in front of her, scanning the field beyond. 
She turned back to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, too excited to choke out any words. However, her smile began to crumble when something caught her eye in the crowd.
A creature among the crowds, gun-metal grey in color with a night-black mane, and red eyes that glowed in the sunlight. Scootaloo had never seen such a species before, though she supposed such an event would include a variety of creatures whose origins eluded her. She found it a sad thing, that the creature stood by his lonesome. 
Against her better judgment, she convinced herself to turn away, presuming that the creature was merely some foreign mystery. While she may have half-desired to interrogate the creature, or even befriend him, there happened to be more pressing matters at hand than a potential friendship mission. 
Her eyes darted over to the clock. 
Ten minutes to the race. 
 




Lightning Dust glanced up at the sun, which had welded her suit to her skin, leaving little to the imagination. She might not have noticed or cared, if not for the occasional instance of her male teammates staring for too long.
“Hat Trick,” Lightning barked.
Hat Trick, the youngest member of the team, a bronze-colored stallion with a curly, reddish-bronze mane, adjusted his gaze, terrified of incurring Lightning’s wrath.
“Don’t get so easily distracted during the race,” Lightning warned, rolling her eyes. 
The heat would prove an additional challenge, though Lightning had ensured the team would be supplied with ample ice water and cooling equipment. 
“Strawberry, keep your back straight,” Lightning said, turning her attention back to the team’s warmups, “Or I’ll ring your head like a bell, got it?”
Strawberry Switchblade, the recruit in question, weakly managed a smile while maintaining her form.
“Loud and clear, boss,” Strawberry croaked.
A crack in the sky signaled the arrival of Rolling Thunder, met by an uproar of applause from the crowd. Short Fuse tailed after her, sparks of fire erupting in the air as he tumbled down to impact.
“Dusty!” Thunder exclaimed.
Lightning smiled and trotted up beside Thunder and Fuse, the latter of whom was already posing for the fans in the front rows of the arena. 
“Never dreamed of flying for a crowd like this,” Rolling Thunder remarked, in awe of the stadium, “‘Spose we can’t make too much of a mess, or we won’t be invited back. Right?”
Short Fuse laughed, as did Lightning, who quickly regained her composure. 
“Don’t get too distracted,” Lightning advised, “We came here to win.”
“You don’t gotta tell us twice,” Short Fuse grinned.
Rolling Thunder noticed Lightning’s smile slip, as her eyes drifted off to the crowd. 
“Y’alright, mate?” Rolling asked, lightly punching Lightning in the shoulder, “You look a little green. Greener than usual, I mean.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” Lightning said, dismissively.
Rolling Thunder glanced at Short Fuse, hesitantly. 
“Look, er, I know things have been tense a little lately,” Rolling Thunder said, “And maybe it’s none of our business, but…If y’need to talk about anything, about your folks, or anything at all, you can-”
Lightning glared at her.
“Focus on the race. Not on me,” Lightning said, “I don’t need either of you to worry about me. We’re here to do a job. Forget about everything else, and let’s get this done.”
Rolling Thunder glanced at Short Fuse, and the both of them reluctantly nodded their heads.
Lightning’s relief was short-lived, however, when she felt a shift in the air from behind her. 
“What’d you know? The circus really is in town,” boomed a new voice from behind them,
Lightning Dust slowly swiveled her head, catching sight of the new arrivals touching ground on the field just a few yards away. 
Lightning straightened herself up, and shut her gaping mouth before any of them could tell she had been caught off guard. 
Sky Stinger, Fleetfoot, Thunderlane, Misty Fly, Surprise, and Rainbow Dash descended to the grass, clad in their spotless blue uniforms. 
The other Washouts left their equipment to join Lightning, while the crowd began to rumble in anticipation.
“Thought it was better to pay you a visit before you end up in a full body cast this time,” Fleetfoot snickered, “Lightning Dust and her team of rejects. It’s even sadder than I thought it’d be. You can play at racing all you like. But you'll never ever be the best of the best.”
Short Fuse began to twitch.
“I liked you better the last time we met, Lightning,” Thunderlane smirked, “Back when you still had some fight left in you.”
Lightning could feel her heart race, and forced herself to avoid meeting Thunderlane’s eyes, while he laughed and laughed. She could feel her stomach churn, and her hairs begin to stand tall.
“Now you’ve got a little freakshow to make you feel better about yourself. Y’know, there might be a mistake. The Special Equestria Games are still a month away,” Thunderlane laughed.   
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes at Thunderlane’s remark, while the rest of the Wonderbolts broke into a fit of laughter.  Lightning could only sigh, unimpressed.
“Don’t know who would want to be a Wonderbolt, with ponies like you wearing the uniform,” Rolling Thunder scowled, “A dainty bunch of has-beens afraid to get their hooves dirty. Stick to your boring old airshows, it’s all you know how to do.”
“What kind of sorry excuse for fliers are any of you even supposed to be?!” roared Short Fuse, “If your racing is as pathetic as your trash talk, we’ve got nothing to worry about!”
“Stop,” Lightning said, sticking her hoof over Short Fuse’s mouth before he could release anymore of his rage, “There’s no time for this, we’ve got warm-ups.”
Lightning turned to lead the rest of the Washouts back to their equipment, while Thunderlane’s smirk sharpened.
“Good luck, Lightning, I know you don’t want to mess this up. Your dad’s up there watching, right?” he grinned, pointing to the sky.
Lightning froze, as did the rest of the Washouts. 
She turned back to the Wonderbolts, and marched four steps up to Thunderlane. 
The six of them became alert, despite Lightning approaching them by herself. 
Her eyes were locked onto Thunderlane, who seemed delighted to have earned Lightning’s ire.
“I’ll see you all at the race,” Lightning said, her voice thin like a razor, “I hope you’re still smiling then.”
Thunderlane scoffed, trying his best to hide the fact he was slightly disturbed by the madness swirling in Lightning’s eyes.
“C’mon, guys, let’s leave ‘em to it,” Fleetfoot snickered, spreading her wings, “They need all the practice they can get.”
The Wonderbolts all took flight and left Lightning where she was. All of them, with the exception of Rainbow Dash, who found her hooves were still stuck on the ground.
Lightning glanced at Rainbow, struggling to keep from lashing out.
“I, uh-...He shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry,” Rainbow said, weakly.
“Get out of here, Rainbow Dash,” Lightning spat, “Your friends are waiting for you.”
Rainbow opened her mouth to fire back, but decided against it, sighing and taking flight.
Lightning turned back to the others, who were all staring at her.
She realized her face was bright red, and tears had formed in the corners of her eyes.
“What are you all looking at?” Lightning barked, wiping her eyes before any of them could speak up, “I never said you could take a break! C’mon, all of you, get back to it!”
The Washouts all lingered for a few moments, watching Lightning’s face continue twisting in anger. But they all gave in eventually; despite their concern for their captain, they had a greater fear of earning her wrath. 
The team dispersed, leaving Lightning to sigh again and glance back across the field where the Wonderbolts had made camp. They took up a full quarter of the space.
Lightning narrowed her eyes. If she had any doubts before, they were long gone.
She was getting some payback. 





Rainbow Dash tightened the band around her knee, buckling against the turf with trembling legs. The wicked glare of the sun had set the field ablaze, and to merely brush up against anything metal meant suffering a scathing wound. She was sweating buckets, her soaked Wonderbolt suit now half-translucent and twice as heavy as normal. Her cutie mark was partially visible through the lining of the suit, where her suit clung to her skin like fly paper. Her teammates were in a similar situation, taking turns dousing themselves with ice water and wet towels. 
They were approaching the sixth hour of the game. With each race, the team’s morale seemed to crumble into smaller and smaller pieces, with every new loss against the Washouts. Soarin had managed to grab a second-place title behind Rolling Thunder, the best anypony could manage. Even that spunky little stallion Short Fuse had dusted all of his Wonderbolt opponents. 
And, to Rainbow’s horror, the greatest obstacle to her team’s hope of victory was Lightning Dust herself. Her former wingpony had outraced the Wonderbolts at every turn. She was not only plainly quicker than the competition, but also utilized a strange set of flying positions, transitions, starts, finishes, and so on. Rainbow recalled having heard of such methods, and that they were strongly discouraged at the Wonderbolt Academy, on account of the risk of accident. 
Six hours. For six hours, nopony could touch her. But that was about to change.
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
Soarin was lying on his back, still out-of-breath from his most recent race. Vapor Trail was sitting on a metal bench nearby, picking at her suit and fanning herself off in the heat. 
“The 1200 is in twenty minutes,” Rainbow said, repeating what the stadium announcer had earlier revealed, “It’s the last race. I’m subbing in,” She tossed a sweaty towel over top of Soarin’s head, right as he sat himself up.
“You’re serious?” he asked, incredulously.
“Forget about your comeback tour, Rainbow,” Vapor grunted, “Even if you weren’t crippled, we’ve got no chance against that Washout friend of yours.”
Rainbow narrowed her eyes.
“We’ve finally been knocked down a peg, and you all just want to give up?” Rainbow stammered.
“No,” Soarin said, leaning against the bench as he struggled to stand up to his hooves, “One of us will race. Not you.”
“I’m the only one who can beat her,” Rainbow insisted, “We’re losing this anyway, right? What does it matter?”
“Because you’re hurt,” Soarin said, sternly, “It’s not worth the risk, just to stick it to a second-rate rival.”
Rainbow Dash scoffed.
“It’s not about that,” she said, “All of Equestria is watching. Do you really want them to think that we can’t win a single race against the Washouts?”
Soarin shook his head, too exhausted to argue.
“Y’know what? Knock yourself out. One more loss won’t hurt, right?” he laughed.
Vapor Trail stood up beside him, biting her lip in dismay.
“Rainbow…this is a bad idea. Your leg, you shouldn’t be-”
Rainbow stuck her hoof over Vapor’s lips.
“You can scold me after I win the race.”
Vapor couldn’t help but smile, although she had trouble believing in Rainbow’s optimism.
“Final call for the 1200 meter flight,” came the echoey voice of the stadium announcer. 
Rainbow glanced over at Soarin, who at last gave a sigh of defeat.
“Spits is gonna kill you.”
“Then make sure to bury me with my medal,” Rainbow said, before spreading her wings.
Soarin laughed and gave a withered salute, watching as she ascended up into the air. 
He glanced at Vapor Trail, whose smile began to fade.





Standing on the tips of her hooves, Scootaloo could just barely grasp a glimpse of the field, over the frontmost brick edge of the arena seating. 
She could spot Lightning Dust down below, stretching by the start line, as the minutes before the final race dwindled. 
Despite her irritation with the Wonderbolts’ management, she was still distraught to bear witness to the slaughter. It was a disaster, put bluntly, one that had the added misfortune of being broadcasted worldwide. It was as if the Washouts had meticulously studied the exact flying style of each Wonderbolt, and learned to exploit their weaknesses. Whatever their strategy, there was no doubt the Washouts had earned the right results. 
Naturally, a part of her wanted to despise Lightning Dust, the pony solely responsible for the Wonderbolts’ crash and burn. But she found herself in begrudging admiration, for the pegasus who had been discounted, demeaned, exiled. If a pony like that could end up flying in the Equestria Games, then maybe anypony could. And the thought gave Scootaloo comfort, albeit bittersweet, knowing that her own hero had to take second place for such a dream to be realized.
And where was Rainbow Dash, anyways? The games were nearly over, and she had yet to make an appearance. If there was ever a time for an emergency rescue, it was already overdue.
Down below by the racetrack, Lightning Dust hacked up a wad of phlegm, shooting it out her snout into the grass. 
The other racers all stuck together on the opposite side of the track, glaring at her between sips of water. 
Lightning had kept her victory celebrations to a minimum, and had encouraged her team to do the same. She had insisted they remain professional, in spite of the thrill they were all experiencing, walking off with twenty-two medals already. She felt no need to relish in it. The results would speak for themselves. That’s how it always should have been, she reminded herself. If the Wonderbolts really understood that, she’d be flying with them right now. 
Lightning shook her head, scolding herself. No matter how far she came, that old sting of failure seemed to creep up on her, tying her down to a rock slowly sinking deeper into a sea of regret. She might have been able to keep herself afloat for a while, but gravity always prevailed.
“There she is, sitting by herself,” came a voice from up in the air.
Lightning’s skin began to crawl, and she scampered up to her hooves, like a cornered animal on the run.
Him.
Thunderlane descended down in front of her. Lightning did not typically feel conscious of her height, except for when Thunderlane was near her. He seemed to tower over her, his neck lurching forward like a bird of prey.
“Some things never change,” he smiled.
“What do you want?” Lightning managed, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. She was inching to dart away, though some stupid sense of pride kept her where she was. They’re watching, she thought to herself, Everypony is watching.
“They saved the best for last,” Thunderlane grinned, “You’ve been making quite the fool out of my friends.”
“They do that by themselves,” Lightning said, narrowing her eyes.
“The race doesn’t matter so much to me,” he said, glancing around at the packed stadium with contempt, “They wanted a show, and you gave it to them.”
He took a step closer toward her.
“But I’m more interested in what you want.”
Lightning crossed her hind legs. She couldn’t move, as her throat began to close up and sweat blinded her in one eye. 
“Stop,” Lightning replied, though it came only as a whisper. Her eyes fell to the ground, meekly, as she stumbled backwards.
“Lightning,” he said, lifting her head up by her chin. 
Lightning perked up as the calling of her name, shuddering at his touch.
She opened her mouth to speak, but was paralyzed. He held her hoof in his, and held her captive to his gaze. Lightning felt filthy then, sweaty and dirty and pathetic, the longer she looked at his eyes, the longer she let him hold her. No, she thought, Let go. Everypony's watching. Please let go.
He moved closer towards her, and Lightning snapped out of the trance, discovering the strength to pull away. 
“I said stop,” Lightning said, swatting his hoof away.
Thunderlane laughed, finding some charm in her stubbornness. 
“Come back,” he beckoned, “I never got to-”
Lightning turned around, in time to see another pony touchdown between them.
“Oh, great,” Thunderlane said, rolling his eyes.
Lightning narrowed her eyes, confused.
“What are you doing here?” Lightning demanded.
Rainbow Dash brushed her mane out of her eyes, ignoring Lightning. She turned to Thunderlane, who had a half-grin stuck on his face. Rainbow glanced at him, warily. There was a hot hunger in his eyes, and conversely, Lightning was blushing like a schoolgirl, her eyes cast down to the ground.
“I’m subbing in for Misty. Told her to take the day off," Rainbow said.
Thunderlane glared at her in disbelief.
“I thought your leg was busted,” Thunderlane reminded. Lightning’s ear perked up.
“Not bad enough to keep me away. Consider yourself lucky,” Rainbow smirked.
Thunderlane glanced over her shoulder back to Lightning.
“See you at the finish line,” Thunderlane said. Lightning winced, avoiding his gaze.
Thunderlane turned and trotted off past Rainbow for some last-minute warm-ups. He eyed her, unsure whether she was making the right call. He opted not to argue, however.
Rainbow turned around to face Lightning, who seemed confused as to what was happening.
“Uh…Are you OK?” Rainbow asked. Lightning appeared to be on the verge of tears.
“What? No, I-” Lightning sputtered, struggling to collect herself, “...What are you doing, Rainbow Dash? This isn’t your race.”
“Change of plans,” Rainbow shrugged, “What’s the matter? Nervous?”
Lightning scoffed and sniffed up some snot, amused by Rainbow’s challenge.
“I just spent the whole day putting your team six-feet-under. What exactly have I got to be nervous about?”
“That your streak is about to be cut short,” Rainbow grinned, "Y'know, I won't lie. You put on a good show. You always have. But risking your life, breaking the rules, at the end of the day it's the only way you'll make it close to what you could've had as a Wonderbolt. That's what the Washouts are. A lousy Plan-B."
Lightning frowned and turned red again. Rainbow hesitated, and may have felt regret over being too harsh, though she held her ground.
"You put my friends' lives at risk," Rainbow said, taking an aggressive step towards Lightning, "You put Scootaloo's life at risk. I won't ever forget that."
"I never asked you to forget it," Lightning muttered in reply.
Rainbow eyed her. 
"I never meant to hurt your friends. You know I didn't," Lightning sighed, "And Scootaloo, too. I wanted to get back at you, but...I should never have gone that far. OK? Happy? Nopony actually got hurt, except me. You love to pretend you're some hero, but you were fine looking the other way when my life fell apart. So stop holding the past over my head all the time."
Rainbow took a step closer toward her.
"I never wanted us to be enemies," Rainbow said, "But you've crossed one too many lines, Lightning Dust. You brought everything on yourself, and you might've done worse if I didn't try to hold you accountable. I'm never going to let you put ponies in danger again, and I've got a hard time giving you any benefit of the doubt, not after everything you've done."
"I've got an entire team whose lives I put in danger," Lightning laughed, "The same team who's beaten the Wonderbolts at every race."
"There's still one race left," Rainbow reminded, "Sorry to knock you off your pedestal, but I'm about to put your string of luck to an end and show all these ponies what a real flyer looks like."
Lightning sighed, and struggled to keep herself from smiling. 
“In your dreams, Dash.”
The bells began to ring, as if punctuating Lightning’s final barb. The two remained locked in a fiery stare, and they could each recall a sense of urgency, of desperation, of finality that had eluded them for years on end. Nopony else in the world could bring out such rage and courage from either of the two. To be reunited meant putting everything they had back on the table. 





There were six of them lined up on the track, its shiny white paint already scuffed with hoofprints and dirt. Rainbow and Thunderlane were stuck in the first and second lanes respectively. A half-measure at evening the odds, Lightning suspected. The closer lanes may have been of higher preference, though Lightning was hardly concerned. 
She allowed her Washout teammate, Madcap, to occupy the closer lane. Madcap, a lavender mare with a wavy mane of blues and greens and a pair of wild eyes, was one of the younger recruits on the team, and as such Lightning thought it unnecessary to burden her with any extra distance to cover. Racing against the likes of Rainbow Dash was a challenge in and of itself. 
“Ms. Dust, I’m serious,” Madcap whispered, shuddering in fear while the racers anxiously waited for the officials to be situated. Lightning had told the girl to stop calling her Ms. Dust forty times already, but the girl's memory rarely prevailed. “I can’t!" Madcap said, "That’s Rainbow Dash. You didn’t say anything about Rainbow Dash!”
Lightning took a deep breath, forcing herself to collect her own scattered state of mind before attempting to console her teammate.
Lightning swiveled Madcap towards her by the shoulders, and waited for Madcap to muster up the courage to make eye contact.
“Don’t think about what they do. Or what I do, for that matter. Don’t waste a second thinking of anypony’s race other than your own.”
“But, Ms. Dust! I-”
“I’m right here with you. This is what we practiced for, right?” Lightning said, forcing herself to smile. She jostled Madcap by her shoulders, forcing her to break a smile.
“...Right.”
 “Now get yourself together. Show everypony what you’re made of.”
“Yes ma’am,” Madcap replied, nodding her head, "Thank you ma'am."
“Racers!” boomed the loudspeaker, sending a shiver down Madcap’s spine, “On your mark!”
Lightning Dust perked up, while the crowds all rose to their hooves, setting down their food and drink. Foals had climbed on their parents’ heads for a better view, and in the front row, ponies began to cluster in dense droves, wrestling with each other for an ideal vantage point.
Scootaloo could hardly stand still, bouncing up and down, leaning across the edge of the railing. The scores didn’t matter. The heat didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing except the race. 
“What kept her so long?” Sweetie Belle wondered aloud, finishing off her vanilla ice cream cone. Scootaloo had been wondering the same, watching as Rainbow Dash waited patiently behind the starting line. 
Scootaloo’s eyes darted between Rainbow and Lightning. She had never seen the two of them go head-to-head, and consequently she was not sure what to expect. Of course, she was inclined to side with Rainbow, however considering Lightning’s unprecedented winning streak, her confidence had begun to quiver. 
Up above in the top row of the arena, atop the gold pavilion, Twilight Sparkle had finally finished her popcorn. She snickered to herself, shocked that she alone was the last princess standing. Cadance had just left with Shining Armor and Flurry Heart, the latter of whom had trouble sitting in one place for too long. Celestia and Luna, meanwhile, had remarkable trouble holding their liquor, despite how much of a hobby they had made it during retirement. Twilight glanced at the arena clock tower, and realized it had been over an hour since the two of them had stumbled off to clean themselves up.
“Spike,” Twilight beckoned. Spike was begrudged to answer, consumed with anticipation for the race.
“Can it wait ten minutes?” Spike muttered.
“Spike.”
“Sorry,” Spike grumbled, spinning around to stand at attention.
“Go find Celestia and Luna. I don’t like the idea of them wandering around and getting lost.”
“Twilight, I think they can take care of themselves,” Spike said, desperate for a worthy excuse.
“Not in their…er, present condition. Don’t dawdle.”
Spike cried out in despair, but complied, scampering off to complete the task.
Just as Spike escaped down the pavilion steps, Rarity came strutting in, followed by Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Applejack.
“This heat is criminal,” Rarity groaned, “Tell me, why couldn’t you or Celestia do something about that wretched sun?”
“All the weather ponies are down there, racing or spectating,” Twilight deduced.
Twilight cast an aura of magic, dragging some of the extra chairs beside her for her friends.
“There she is!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, pointing down at the track.
“For a second I thought she wouldn’t show,” Applejack said.
“I don’t know if I can watch,” Fluttershy murmured.
Twilight noticed Forecheck leaning near the edge of the pavilion. She had not heard him enter. 
Her ears perked up, with the first sound of the horns. Beastly, roaring things they were, like some nuclear alarm or cavalry cry. With each blast of the horns, the crowd gradually fell silent, until there was little to be heard above a low murmur. 
On the track, Rainbow Dash felt the ache in her leg intensify, as she fixed her hoof-placement and aligned her eyes with the lines. 
She glanced to her left, and caught Lightning Dust’s glare. Lightning left her with only a scowl and a bitter gaze, leaving Rainbow to smile and scoff it off. 
Rainbow glanced to her right as well, to Thunderlane, who seemed suspiciously relaxed, laughing and waving to the crowd. Rainbow glared at him with contempt, before settling back on her own thoughts. If he was to treat this like a joke, then it was clear that Rainbow alone truly represented the Wonderbolts, or rather, what the Wonderbolts were supposed to be. She would not let them down. She would not let herself down.
“Racers!” came the loudspeaker again. The voice came three times as loud, against a nearly-silent crowd, “Ready!”
Rainbow narrowed her eyes, glancing briefly at her hooves, at the lines, at the crowd, at the air in front of her. Three laps was all it was. Ten seconds on the first lap. Twelve on the second. Ten again on the last. That was the plan. That was always the plan. Except…that wasn’t good enough. It was obvious to her that Lightning Dust had studied the Wonderbolts’ strategies, rigorously, at that. If Rainbow was to win, if she was to do this right, she would have to try something different. 
“Rainbow Dash!” 
Rainbow felt the color drain from her face. She knew that voice. 
Spitfire was storming down the field toward the track, shoving ponies out of her way. 
“Rainbow Dash! Get off that track immediately! You’re not fit to-”
Spitfire’s voice had already begun to slip away, when the first crackle and pop of the loudspeaker microphone graced Rainbow’s ears.
Rainbow fixed her hooves one last time and centered herself, waiting for the signal, waiting for the mildest hint of alarm. Her muscles were tender, tense, desperate for the start.
From a great high-reaching white-wooden chair near the starting line, an official gave a wave of his hoof to one of the linesponies, whose horn promptly ignited. 
His horn glowed, a spectacular shade of white, like a star fallen to earth, held there in a steady grasp. 
The crowd’s breath all seemed to give out at once, as they watched and waited eagerly. 
Then the rush came, first before the sound even hit anypony’s ears. 
The linespony’s aura burst into a pure white fire, booming loud enough to send a shock through a good half of the crowd.
Rainbow lifted off her hooves with her wings spread, and broke out into a low glide, propelling herself forward to build momentum. 
Lightning Dust had done the same, though did not have to twist as hard off the start; she had a longer while before the curve of the track became relevant.
The crowd erupted, cheering and roaring while the racers’ glide quickly picked up into a sprint, faster and faster with each thin flutter of the wings, until each racer resembled little more than a blur. 
Time was of a strange substance at such speeds; the noise of the crowd became distorted, and the lines of the track seemed to wobble and move.
 The first lap proceeded just as Lightning Dust had expected. The eight racers were all within near-distant stride, with the exception of Thunderlane, who had begun to sink back. By his own design, Lightning figured. He never took anything seriously.
Not now, Lightning scolded herself.
Most of the racers were left exhausted after just the first lap, having futilely attempted to make pace with Lightning and Rainbow. 
Lightning noticed Madcap begin to slip behind, and considered slowing her own pace, until she noticed Rainbow Dash and three of the other racers still on her heels.
Lightning gritted her teeth and picked up speed, twisting harder on the turns. She refused to enter a closer lane, despite it being allowed at this point. 
She could hear the other racers’ breath, heavy and drenched and desperate. 
Lightning was not keen on counting her times in her head, though by sheer intuition, she supposed the second lap was approaching ten seconds. Why was Rainbow still so close? Maybe she’s catching on, Lightning thought. Or maybe she’s getting sloppy. 
Either way, Lightning embraced the challenge. She had been holding the lead since the start, though Rainbow happened to prefer it that way. Rainbow was not straining for space, not quite yet. The adrenaline had blocked out the ache in her leg, and her heart was beating so fast, she wondered if it might leap right out of her chest. Rainbow hoped to appear weak enough to feed into Lightning’s overconfidence, while simultaneously keeping a close distance, not allowing too much room for a breakout getaway.
Lightning could not pinpoint Rainbow’s motives; such a task was a waste of precious time, after all. Madcap was gone, sinking fast in the clouds of dust. Thunderlane might as well have just started, for how far behind he was.
Rainbow had kept pace the entire way into the third lap, and now it was only the two of them left in the front.
The crowd was loud enough now to shake the very foundations of the arena. Rainbow had begun to close in, it appeared, inch by inch the gap began to shrink.
Lightning winced, her twists and turns beginning to feel stale. Rainbow was not thrown at all. She wasn’t distracted, or confused, or intimidated. Was this even a challenge for her? Thunderlane had said she was hurt. She didn’t look hurt. 
Lightning felt her heart race faster. Too fast. She couldn’t stop herself now, even if she wanted to. She could feel the flesh on her face tighten from the impact of the high wind-speed, and specks of ash slip off her coat, from where sparks of fire began to strike. 
Halfway through the lap, Rainbow was right beside her. Lightning felt her eyes sink in her sockets. This was the fastest she could go. This was the fastest anypony alive could go. Everything she had, every muscle pounding and wrenching and tearing itself apart just to gain another inch. Her wings would soon be ground down to the bare cartilage, with such intense pressures. 
But right there beside her, Rainbow Dash flew the same race. No, not anymore. Had she gained another inch? Lightning could go no further. But Rainbow climbed and climbed. 
Rainbow, throughout the race, had felt a strange sense of delight, a euphoric radiance of determination that seemed to mask whatever physical ailments her friends had been so worried about. Her only affliction was the unthinkable possibility of failure.
She had the lead. She had the lead, and she would not be losing it. She could go faster, faster, and faster still. Lightning Dust, meanwhile, was not going anywhere new, not even as she strained and gasped and tore through the air with a furious stride. 
Rainbow had an eye for the finish line. The crowds’ cheers were no longer distorted. She heard them loud and clear. Chanting her name. She could see Twilight and her friends, she could see her parents, she could see Scootaloo.
The record would show, there was one pony who could beat the Washouts. 
She wasn’t past her prime. She wasn’t a has-been. Nopony could tell her as much, not after this. Her great race was not yet run. 
Then she felt something else. Something unfamiliar. Something sharp, something cold, something from inside.
The smile on her face began to fade, and the world began to spin, to the left and around, over and around, as the colors all began to mash together, as the sounds began to pull each other apart. The pain grew sharper, and sharper, until the world faded away completely, a black curtain slipping over her eyes. 
Lightning Dust caught a glimpse of the collision, as Rainbow spiraled out of her lane, crashing straight into the dirt on the edge of the track, shredding off skin as she went. 
Lightning’s breath gave out; the sound of the impact was enough cause for concern. She only saw it for a moment, a blue blur veering off the track in front of her. Rainbow. Lightning grinded to a halt, trying to turn and drift down to a slower speed, but her efforts were all in vain. Her speed was too great by then, and within the span of a second, she had already barreled across the finish line.
Lightning slowed down and collapsed on the track; her legs were too exhausted to support her. She had done it. That was all she could think, all she could register. 
Dad and Mom and Pixie and everypony in the whole world would see. They would hear about what she had done. The pony who defeated the Wonderbolts. She had imagined such a victory to feel more triumphant. But there was a hollowness that remained as it was, unmoving. This was what she wanted. Why didn’t she feel any different? 
Dad’s not here.
	Lightning lowered her head, as her muscles burned in agony. 
None of them are here.
It was Madcap who crossed the finish line next, and Lightning Dust turned in relief, glad to have somepony else to fret over, a welcomed distraction.





Clawing through the blurry patches of black, the roaring of the crowd inched its way through her ears, reaving and raging. They were all on their hooves, half-stuck over the edge of the railings, barking at the wind. 
Drunk on delirium, Rainbow Dash opened her eyes to find the world as a thick veil of fog, masked in shadow. She had gone blind, she thought. She had hit her head so hard, her eyes had popped right out of her skull. No, no, that wasn’t right. The image was returning, slowly, coming into focus with a shaky, trembling twist. The pain revealed itself unexpectedly; the disorientation had distracted her at first. There might have been splinters in her skull, if it hadn’t been cracked open like an egg. 
The sky, as she saw it through the shifting patterns of static, had turned to a more nebulous shade of grey. Just a moment ago the sun had been shining, as it had all day. How many hours had she suffered in the dark? Or perhaps what she was seeing was not even real, a strange illusion. 
The crowd was only a muffled droning, and it felt as though her ears were flooded. With blood, perhaps, though she was in no state to think much on the matter. 
Against the grey skies, a blurry face popped into frame - the spiky shocks of orange meant it had to be Spitfire.
“Dash! Dash! Hey! Wake up! Dash!” Spitfire wailed, propping Rainbow’s head up on a wound-up towel.
 	Soarin, Vapor Trail, Fleetfoot, and the entirety of the Wonderbolt team had flown to the scene, taking care not to surround Rainbow too closely, and to allow space for the paramedics.
Thunderlane had come up on the growing crowd, now blocking the track. He slowed to a stop, gasping for breath while trying to deduce what had happened.
Ahead at the finish line, Lightning Dust collected herself, and stuck her foreleg on Madcap’s shoulder.
“Thatta girl,” Lightning smiled, between gasps for breath. Madcap sunk into Lightning's arms, laughing between her breaths. 
Lightning had meant to usher Madcap back to the Washouts’ warm-up area, until discovering the entirety of the Washouts team had come to them already.
“Look at this pair of drongos! Way to bring it home!” Rolling Thunder beamed, rushing Lightning for an embrace.
Lightning shrunk in Rolling Thunder’s grasp, uncomfortable with such unrestrained show of affection. Short Fuse was on top of her as well without much delay, as was the rest of the team, all laughing and hollering out in celebration.
Lightning remained silent while the rest of the team broke out into a rowdy explosion. But, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the crowd of ponies fixed on the track further back.
Rainbow?
Lightning felt her throat close up, and she quickly freed herself from the clump.
"....Wait," Lightning murmured.
The Washouts’ cries of celebrations simmered down as soon as Lightning broke off, sauntering off toward the scene back down the track. The crowd too, seemed to have calmed down, murmuring in discomfort, unable to catch sight of Rainbow through the huddle of paramedics. 
The other nine Washouts began to follow after Lightning, glancing at each other with wariness.
Lightning came as close as she could to the scene, and felt her skin turn pale, as the rush of the race escaped her at last.
Fleetfoot was the first to notice Lightning, and was quick to alert her teammates.
Lightning’s attention was focused only on where Rainbow was lying on the track, and she was caught by surprise when Fleetfoot marched right up to her. 
Behind Fleetfoot came Soarin and Vapor Trail, Sky Stinger and Surprise and the majority of the team. 
Too enraged to speak, Fleetfoot glared directly at Lightning, with eyes that accused.
You almost got her killed was written on her face, while more and more Wonderbolts began to follow up around her, approaching like a pack of wolves toward wounded prey.  
Lightning was too stunned to defend herself, still too exhausted to even think properly. 
Soarin and Vapor Trail had joined the growing crowd of Wonderbolts, glancing at each other with uncertainty. 
Lightning flinched, her eyes darting between each of them. They were all staring directly at her, eyes burning bright with hatred. Lightning could hardly keep herself together; her body was so sore she could hardly keep her weight on any one leg for too long. Her neck was strained, and the nausea in her gut had begun to increase in pressure, rising up toward her chest.
Lightning sighed, silently, while the Wonderbolts remained as they were, watching her every move, trembling in anticipation.
Lightning glanced behind her, catching the eye of Rolling Thunder, who, along with the rest of the Washouts, had stuck themselves right behind her.
Lightning glanced back to Fleetfoot, and the hints of a smirk began to form around her lips. Her eyes briefly traced the crowd of Wonderbolts, dismissively, and perhaps almost amused. 
“So much for the best of the best.”
The noise of the crowd had subsided, and the last inhale of air through Fleetfoot’s nose was the last thing Lightning could make out, before a hoof landed right across her face, knocking her right off her hooves.
Lightning fell to her knees, semi-conscious, as the Washouts behind her immediately sprung to action. 
Over the railing, the crowd had erupted, rising to their hooves to watch the two sides clash into one another, tearing at each other’s suits, scratching and clawing and kicking and swinging. Broken bones, blistering bruises and splashes of blood were masked behind clouds of dust, loose teeth, and torn strands of hair. 
Lightning pawed at the fresh bruise on her face, as her vision began to resettle. She staggered up to her hooves, dizzily searching around for any of her teammates.
She found Short Fuse just in time to save him from a punch to the skull. 
The crowd was the loudest they had been all day, watching as the racers pummeled each other into the ground. 





Up on the golden pavilion, Twilight Sparkle rose from her seat, frantically watching as the fields below became a battleground. 
“I have to get down there,” Twilight said aloud. Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Pinkie were already at her side, eager to check on Rainbow’s condition. 
She made for the exit of the pavilion, only to find Forecheck blocking her path. 
“Your grace,” he said, his voice trembling, “It’s much too dangerous!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Twilight said, ignoring him and making for the pavilion steps.
“Your grace, please,” Forecheck said, terrified. 
Twilight continued past him, desperate to reach Rainbow without any delay. 
But she had not made it far, when a sharp, searing shock made contact with her left shoulder. 
Twilight cried out in surprise, thrown off her hooves over the pavilion edge.
“Twilight!” screeched Pinkie Pie, darting off after her.
“What in the-” Applejack began, scanning the pavilion for the source of the attack.
Her answer came when a trio of creatures revealed themselves from around the pavilion’s rear, blocking the exit on either side. 
Two were like pegasi, nearly, with blood-red wings. Only, they were not a pegasus’ wings, or a griffin’s or hippogriff or anything Applejack had seen before. They resembled something more of a fruit bat, of a vampire. And the third was a burly thing, a pony with a black deformities, a pair of spider-like black pincers along his jaw, and three pairs of purple serpent’s eyes. 
Twilight lay unconscious by the steps of the pavilion, near where the serpent-eyed pony stood. 
Pinkie Pie slowly retreated away from Twilight and back toward Applejack, Rarity, Forecheck, and Fluttershy.
“What have you done?” Rarity demanded, hesitantly sticking herself beside Applejack in front of the others, “I dare say, if this is some kind of joke, I should have you know, we are not-”
Rarity never got the chance to reply, when the serpent-eyed pony ignited his horn. 
In a flash of light, the ground was graced with three more bodies. Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy had all collapsed, just meters away from where Twilight had been overtaken.
Forecheck remained standing, glaring at the serpent-eyed pony with staunch conviction.
“Gorgo,” Forecheck said, “You idiot. This was not the plan.”
Gorgo growled in response, while the bloodbat ponies began dragging the four bodies into a neat pile at the center of the pavilion.
“We needed all four princesses together,” Forecheck barked.
“They’ve already been taken care of,” Gorgo confirmed, “All we need left is our Wonderbolt.”
Forecheck sighed, shaking his head in regret.
“That won’t be possible. Not now. Look down there, tell me what you see. She’s injured, surrounded by tens of thousands. Every broadcast in Equestria has their eyes on her, at this very moment. To take action now would require a public spectacle. This was supposed to be covert.”
“No going back now,” Gorgo said, glancing down at Twilight and the others, “We brought back-up for a reason, no?” 
Forecheck grabbed at his jaw, frantically deliberating on a plan.
“You two,” Gorgo said, turning to the two bloodbat ponies, “Give the signal.”
Forecheck narrowed his eyes, while Gorgo began to grin. 
“Listen to me. Our choice is to either come back short,” Gorgo said, “Or we get what we came for, with a little extra on the side.”
“We’re not ready, it can’t be done.”
“We are ready,” Gorgo insisted, “We cannot wait any longer. We have to act now.”
The two bloodbat ponies stood by the pavilion steps, waiting for Forecheck’s leave.
He glared at Gorgo, furiously.
“If we fail. It will be both of our heads.”
Gorgo smiled, and gave the nod to the two bloodbat ponies. 





“We have to do something!” 
Scootaloo leaned over the edge of the railing, watching the brawl below with eyes wide with terror. 
Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom spectated the chaos, unsure what to do.
“I’ve got to make sure Rainbow’s alright!” Scootaloo exclaimed.
“Scoots, I’m sure she’s fine,” Apple Bloom insisted, “If we go down there, we’ll get our faces stomped in!”
Scootaloo glared at Apple Bloom, and then over to Sweetie Belle, who backed away from the railing. Sweetie appeared paler than normal, and the violence on display seemed to have rattled her into silence.
Scootaloo growled some curses under her breath before turning back to the railing.
“Suit yourselves.”
Scootaloo had a grip of the railing before either of her friends could properly react.
“Scootaloo, wait!” Apple Bloom yelled, dashing to grab a hold of Scootaloo.
But Scootaloo was quicker, swinging herself over the railing. Sweetie Belle shrieked, as Scootaloo disappeared over the edge.
Apple Bloom felt her heart skip a beat, slowly leaning over the edge.
Scootaloo had just landed after a ten-feet drop, groaning as she picked herself off the rubber track.
“Are you alright?” Apple Bloom yelled.
Scootaloo groaned something resembling a ‘yes,’ staggering up to her hooves.
“I’m adding that to the list of the dumbest things you’ve ever done!” Apple Bloom barked, shaking her head.
“We’ll have enough for a novel, soon,” Sweetie said, turning away from the edge to calm herself down. 
Scootaloo managed to stand up straight, shaking away the bells circling her head. The impact of the fall had shaken her guts and rattled her bones, though she had suffered no serious injury, as far as she could tell.
She had gone unnoticed by the track officials, who were busy attempting to break up the brawl further up on the track. 
She had meant to spring off after Rainbow Dash, before she tripped over her own hooves, landing face first on the track.
Apple Bloom may have wanted to crack another remark, if she hadn’t also toppled off her hooves onto the ground. Sweetie Belle had suffered the same, as had almost everypony in the stadium. The earth itself had begun to move, a furious quake and shiver. Dust fell in heavy clouds from the edges of the stadium, where the rocks had all shifted in their stead or begun to collapse. On the grass, roots had begun to reveal themselves, splitting up from the dirt. The island itself was tearing itself apart, throwing its ponies from side to side, sliding down the stadium rows, falling into each other, hanging on for dear life.
Scootaloo felt nauseous, unable to lift herself off the ground while the earth continued to shake like mad. The vibration was so intense, she felt a dense pressure pushing down on her, locking her against the scorched rubber track. She grunted in agony, terrified of being unable to move. 
The quake had begun to subside before long, however, and Scootaloo could finally manage to lift her head up off the track.
She saw black smoke billowing out from somewhere else on the island, visible from over the tip of the colosseum. 
She lifted herself to her hooves, as the sounds of ponies screaming and groaning began to double in decibel. Further on the track, the Wonderbolts and Washouts all struggled up to their hooves, and had come to an unspoken standstill, too disoriented to fight any longer.
Then came the humming of flapping wings, roaring like the low growl of some gargantuan beast, crooning and creeping and surrounding the stadium on all sides.
Scootaloo’s mouth hung open in despair, as the light of the sun began to wither, as the sky began to move.
A hundred or more, there had to be. Hovering like vultures, descending together in strange formations. Blood-red in color, or gun-metal grey, or black like the night. They came in ferocious tides, winding and weaving toward the ground like a living twister. Scootaloo narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the specks and spots, trying to gauge how soon to start running. 
Then she recognized the red eyes that glowed, pairs of them that decorated the sky like hellborne stars. 
She spun around toward the stadium, struggling to see over the edge where she had jumped from. 
“Apple Bloom! Sweetie Belle!” Scootaloo screeched, only to receive no answer. 
The sound of ponies screaming shot down at her from all sides, as ponies began fleeing toward the stadium exits in droves, while the army of flying devils was en route. Few ponies had the stomach to run far, limited to limping leaps and panicked jogs. The exits soon became flooded with ponies, barricaded inside the tunnel where the doors remained shut and locked.
 From the pavilion, Forecheck watched on with a shaky hoof pawing at his jaw. Of course, the doors had been the first order of business. Nopony could be allowed to leave. 
Below, Scootaloo at last mustered up the courage to dart off toward where Rainbow Dash was. 
Rainbow Dash had just recently found herself able to stand up without any support, as the sharp pain in her head continued to die down. 
Spitfire was close beside her, relieved that Rainbow appeared to be in serviceable condition.
Rainbow had meant to offer some gratitude, only for Spitfire to disappear from in front of her, in the span of a mere blink.
Rainbow’s jaw dropped, glancing up in time to see the black blur drag Spitfire up into the sky. 
“Rainbow!” yelled out Fleetfoot, who had just flown over to the scene, “Where’d Spits go?”
“She-” Rainbow began, until Fleetfoot’s legs flailed up in the air, and a familiar black blur had a grip on her neck. Rainbow was quicker this time, jumping over to reach Fleetfoot. But she was too late; Fleetfoot had been dragged up into the air, yelping in shock as the air slipped out of her lungs.
Rainbow glanced around her, watching as the black figures descended from the air, dipping down and back up like insects, snatching unsuspecting ponies with creeping hooves. The screams of the crowd grew and grew, as the hundred-or-more army of creatures picked them off, lifting them up into the sky. They flew off with their captives, past the edge of the colosseum, and, within a short while, had promptly returned to continue their assault.
Rainbow’s eyes shot up toward the golden pavilion where Twilight had been. But she did not see Twilight, only the Association president, who seemed strangely calm about the whole situation, watching the stadium fly into a frenzy from his storied perch.
Rainbow blinked in rapid succession, hoping she was not experiencing some grim hallucination. Across the track, she saw officials and racers fleeing toward the exits, as more of the creatures began to descend upon the stadium. 
Twilight must have been taken already, Rainbow supposed. The rest of her friends as well, probably. She could try following after them, she thought, fly after the snatchers and rescue her friends. Only, she had little idea what kind of threat this happened to be; such a plan may very well be suicide, or at the very least a sure way to end up captured like the rest.
Her decision was made without her input, ultimately, when a pair of black hooves had a grip on her shoulders. Rainbow yelped, before she felt her hooves be lifted off the ground.
The speed of the creature sent her into mild whiplash, as its hooves shifted towards her throat, suffocating her as they flew together up into the air.
Rainbow had enough strength left to resist the urge to black out, glaring up at the creature, hunting for some vulnerability. The creature itself was a horned pony with a coat of black. He had eyes that glowed ruby-red, and a pair of bloodbat’s wings.
Rainbow grunted in exhaustion, before lunging for the creature’s wings. She grabbed at one, throwing the creature off balance. He cried out in pain, as a tendon of his left wing began to bend and blister beneath Rainbow’s grip.
His grip fell apart over her throat, and Rainbow promptly planted a kick directly to his gut, successfully breaking free.
She caught herself in the air, springing her battered, bruised wings.
She was far enough up now to grasp a better glimpse of where the creatures had flown off to. Over the bay, sitting in the bitter blue waters, there lay a proud black ship, made for war. Its hull was thick and sharp with spiky battlements. The ship stood tall like a floating castle, or a nest of hornets. 
Rainbow turned her attention back down to the stadium, and shakily glided back down toward the ground.
Her landing was more of a crash, tumbling back down into the rubber track, right near where the brawl had first broken out.
Most of the Wonderbolts and Washouts seem to have vanished.
Scootaloo had endured the onslaught, struggling to hold back tears as she cowered by the edge of the stadium wall. The screams from above kept her petrified, as she frantically scanned the sky. The creatures flew in precise movements, never once colliding into each other, despite their numbers. 
Further ahead on the track, Lightning Dust had never precisely stopped fighting; though her opponents had abruptly shifted from the Wonderbolts to these strange hell-spawn creatures. 
Rolling Thunder was at her side, swinging madly as a cluster of the creatures began to draw down upon them.
“They got Short Fuse,” Rolling said, weakly. 
Lightning gritted her teeth.
“When we get the chance, we all fly back to the apartment, we barricade ourselves in there until we’re clear to fly off this island,” Lightning said, deciding on the plan right there on the spot.
“Sounds like a-” Rolling began, before the words fell trapped in the back of her throat.
Lightning glanced over her shoulder, just in time to see Rolling Thunder be dragged up into the sky, cursing into the wind.
“Rolling!” Lightning yelled, spreading her wings to try and fly after her. 
But she found herself tethered to earth, when a pair of creatures below had a grip on her hind leg. 
She fell to the ground in a heap, as the creatures behind her rushed to hold her down. 
Lightning frantically kicked the closest one away, and jumped up to her hooves. She swung her hoof into one of the creature’s stomach, sending him spinning around to the ground. She kicked him square across the face, knocking him out cold. 
Lightning bent down beside him. He wore a dark steel helmet, obscuring part of his face. He was shorter than the majority of his companions, and a bit stout as well.
Lightning grabbed him by his throat and dragged him along with her, limping off toward one of the ground exits. 
Nearby, Scootaloo desperately searched for a possible escape route, as more and more ponies were plucked off into the air. 
On the other side of the track, she spotted an open gate, surrounded by royal guards wielding spears and swords, escorting what few survivors.
Gasping in relief, Scootaloo worked up the courage to free herself from the faux protection of the wall, sprinting off toward the gate.
She did not make it far.
One of the creatures already on the ground had directed his attention toward her, standing up straight. 
Scootaloo came to a halt, before backing up in her tracks, as the snarling creature began his pursuit.
Scootaloo shrieked, and shut her eyes.
But the strike never came, and, after an anxious few seconds, Scootaloo opened her eyes, only to find Rainbow Dash standing there. She had her hoof on the creature’s neck, pressing down until the creature succumbed and went under.
“Are you alright?” Rainbow stammered, wiping a sprinkle of blood off her face.
Scootaloo frantically nodded her head, while Rainbow bent down in front of her.
“We’ve gotta go, OK?” Rainbow whispered.
“Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, we can’t l-”
Rainbow shook her head.
“They’re gone, Scoots, now we’ve got to go, got it?”
Scootaloo noticed the blood on Rainbow’s face, her eyes widening in shock.
“It’s not mine! it’s OK,” Rainbow assured, before standing up to her hooves.
She picked up Scootaloo with her forelegs, and bolted off from the track.
Clearing the length of the field in five seconds flat, Rainbow came to a stop in front of the dozen-or-so soldiers who had managed to arrive on the scene in time. 
“Where the heck have you guys been?” Rainbow demanded.
“We were delayed,” one soldier explained.
“Rainbow,” came Scootaloo, grabbing at her side.
Rainbow glanced down, and followed Scootaloo’s hoof over toward the field.
There was Lightning Dust, stumbling backwards, fending off a growing horde of the creatures. 
Rainbow’s eyes fell to the ground, and she noticed Scootaloo’s pleading stare.
“We can’t just leave her.”
Rainbow’s eyes darted back toward the field.
Lightning Dust still had one hoof on the throat of her captive, dragging him through the dirt while she kicked back at the pursuing creatures. They carried a variety of weapons, attempting to prod and poke her. 
A few had managed to make contact, slashing her suit, shredding her skin, sticking her full of holes. Her suit was soon stained crimson red, and her pace began to weaken, as she struggled to fight off their impressive numbers.
That was, until a prismatic blur came barreling out from behind her, slamming into the horde of creatures, knocking them off balance.
Rainbow Dash appeared beside Lightning Dust, who glared up at her rescuer with hatred.
“You can thank me later,” Rainbow smirked, extending a hoof for Lightning to grab onto.
Lightning scoffed and swatted away the offer, staggering up on her own.
“Let’s go” Lightning muttered, waiting for Rainbow to leave with her, returning toward the gate.
The ache in Scootaloo’s chest was alleviated somewhat, when she caught sight of both Rainbow and Lightning returning from the field.
“C’mon, Scoots, let’s get the heck out of here!” Rainbow yelled, passing by Scootaloo with Lightning half-resting on her foreleg.
But Scootaloo remained for a few lasting moments, glancing back at the field.
The creatures’ onslaught had not dissipated; if anything it had intensified.
While some ponies had managed to find an escape, the sheer speed and efficiency of the enemy had proved to be near-inescapable. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, they were both gone, that was what Rainbow had said. Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie and Fluttershy, perhaps they had gotten out. They must have, they were with Twilight. Only, Twilight may have been the first to be taken. Cadance, Celestia, Luna, Starlight, perhaps all of them had. She would have thought there would be more resistance, otherwise, but the crowd remained sitting ducks, almost. 
What a strange gift it was, to have gotten away. What a strange guilt it was, at that. One brave blunder had maybe saved her life.
Equestria was defenseless now, and her friends were all gone. But she could do no good waiting around here any longer.
Holding back tears, Scootaloo spun around and slipped between the wall of royal guards, following after Rainbow and Lightning. 
> 02: The Truce
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Below black sails and bronze lamps dripping oil, Spitfire kept her eyes fixed on the floorboards. She was trapped on her knees, her legs clasped in irons, her wings tied down with itchy rope. Her cerulean suit was torn at the sides and along her left foreleg, stained with blood.
Spitfire shot a quick glance at her companions - Vapor and Soarin were tied directly to the great oak mast a few feet away, while Thunderlane was kneeling right at her side. 
Soarin had still not woken up, not since their captors carelessly dropped him on his head upon boarding the great vessel they were trapped on. Vapor had finally stopped begging for somepony to help him, resigning instead to sniffling and trembling against her ropes. The other few hundred captives had been stored in the galley below, and Spitfire could still make out the sound of muffled wailing from right beneath her. 
As for their captors, no two of them were quite alike, she had discovered. Some wore pairs of black horns, others had red skin cracked like molten rock, and some hardly resembled ponies at all. 
She glanced at Soarin, sound asleep and Vapor, pale-faced and trembling like it was forty-below, and Thunderlane, stretching his jaw in spite of a new bruise. What made these four special? she wondered. Why keep us above deck? 
“There’s more of us than there are of them,” Thunderlane muttered to her. Spitfire had thought the black eye he was sporting would have reminded him not to open his mouth again, “All it’ll take is one of us to spring open the hatch to get below deck, free the others, and we’ll overwhelm them.”
Spitfire fought herself to keep from replying, though she realized Thunderlane was intent on following through with this plan of his, with or without her.
“The only ponies down there who can stand a chance are the rest of the team, and the Washouts. I saw them put all the soldiers somewhere deeper in the ship, someplace we won't reach easily. Everypony down there are civilians. They’ll scream, they’ll run, they’ll freeze. They won’t fight.”
“Washouts,” Thunderlane laughed, “I saw a rat run past my hoof earlier. He’d be better use to us than the Washouts.”
“They can fight.”
“For themselves, maybe. They’ll leave us stranded here if it gives them a chance to run off,” Thunderlane said, “We don’t need them, Spits. We just need to-”
“Shut your mouth!” 
It was Grimbol who had barked at them from across deck, that hulking thug with the wet snarl. The spiked ring of a buzz-saw was half-stuck in his forehead, but his skull was so thick it could not be removed. The skin had grown back right around the metal. 
He stormed toward the pair in his clunky suit of gun-metal armor. Thunderlane’s smile fell from his face, but only for a moment. For all his faults, Spitfire thought, he never let his fear take the better of him.
“Grimbol!” Thunderlane smiled, “Careful now, I’ve only got one eye left to bludgeon.”
“No worries. I’ll be ripping out that glib tongue of yours next,” Grimbol laughed. His hoof landed against Thunderlane’s skull with an audible crack, and in a single blink Thunderlane’s head was bouncing against the splintery floorboards.
Vapor was still shrieking when Spitfire finally opened her eyes. She first caught sight of the small puddle of blood draining through the boards, though Thunderlane was already teetering back to his knees. Spitfire gritted her teeth. Stop talking, you idiot.
Thunderlane could barely see, she realized, as he laughed off a second black-eye drenched in blood drizzling down his forehead. He turned to where he thought Grimbol was, as more of the black-armored soldiers began to draw in closer. The scent of blood seemed to lure them in like moths to flame.
“Many a mare would go begging from north to south, without that glib tongue of mine. For their sakes, I’ll ask for mercy,” Thunderlane grinned.
One of the other creatures, a small filly with a ghostly white coat and bouncy sky-blue curls, started giggling, and the host of soldiers slowly came around, grinning, bellowing, and stomping their hooves, rowdy like a wild pack of dogs. Even Grimbol gave a snort. For a second, Thunderlane could laugh as well. Everypony always came around to him eventually, after all. 
He kept thinking as much, even when Grimbol picked him up by the scruff of his throat, lifting him up into the air. 
“Leave him alone!” Vapor yelled. Spitfire glared at her. Don’t follow his example. The girl had pissed her suit at the sight of the blood, and her shaking seemed to have gotten worse. Luckily Grimbol seemed to only care about Thunderlane.
The other creatures descended on Thunderlane, who seemed to have finally given into the pain in his forehead, struggling to keep that stupid smirk on his face. 
“Make way!” boomed a new voice from behind the crowd of soldiers. Spitfire glanced up, alarmed by the sudden silence that swept over the ship. 
Grimbol threw Thunderlane down to the ground. Spitfire could not look at him for long, that bloody mess of purple pulp that used to be his face. Thunderlane coughed and reeled on his side, struggling to move as his head began pounding harder and harder. 
The crowd broke apart as a new creature stormed down the deck. 
His skin was black leather, buried under a coat of blood-matted black fur. His skull was sharp, studded with three pairs of purple serpent’s eyes. Along the edge of his jaws were spider-like pincers, or fangs maybe, and his drooling red maw was guarded by rows of pointed teeth. He was larger than all of the others except Grimbol, but had a sturdier rhythm to his strut. Heads came bowing as he trotted past, until he came to a stop before Thunderlane. 
“What is the meaning of this?” he asked in a cold voice.
Grimbol had never seemed smaller, shrinking at just the creature’s voice. Nobody dared answer, not that Gorgo had a need for one. 
Gorgo’s six eyes darted down to Thunderlane.
“Tender flesh might have done nicely, for the journey home,” Gorgo supposed, “But this one is too broad of shoulder. He will stick in my throat. This will not do.”
Spitfire’s eyes widened. She caught herself before her jaw could drop. He’s just trying to scare us. They’re ponynappers, not cannibals. 
Grimbol glared at Gorgo. The six-eyed beast truly did live up to that moniker of his. The Insatiable. They had a great many captives, and already Gorgo could hardly keep himself from picking out his next meal. 
Vapor shut her eyes when Gorgo caught sight of her. He slithered towards her, sticking his six eyes just inching away from her, examining every part of her.
“This one,” Gorgo grinned a sickly, twisted grin, “Slender and fair. She will go down nicely.”
Vapor kept her eyes shut, trying her best to be brave, though she felt her spine shiver and her skin turn pale. 
“These ones are not for you. None of them are to be spoiled before we reach the island,” Grimbol reminded. He was the only one brave enough to deny Gorgo his lunch.
“Her time will come,” Gorgo promised, “Now…Where is he?” 
The crowd rustled to produce a familiar face. 
“Forecheck!” Spitfire exclaimed. She was too shocked to remember to keep her mouth shut. What is he doing here? 
Forecheck, the president of the Equestrian Athletic Association, had been an old friend of the Wonderbolts. Spitfire could feel her heartbeat hasten, as hope returned. Perhaps Forecheck had made a deal of some kind, to earn them their freedom.
“Change out of that ridiculous disguise,” Gorgo scoffed.
Forecheck sighed.
Spitfire’s smile dropped in an instant, as she watched Forecheck’s flesh begin to draw back against the muscle. She heard bones snapping, organs popping, and a low grunting sound, before a new form remained, a red muscly creature with sad eyes and raspy breath.
He was some kind of shapeshifter, Spitfire deduced, but not like a changeling, who could revert to an original form. This creature had no true form, able only to adopt the guise of others.
The shapeshifter, whose name was Mimic, meant to address Gorgo, before he noticed Spitfire glaring at him from the floor. 
“Ah,” Mimic said, “My dear, I do apologize for ruining your afternoon. Though I will say, your Wonderbolts were not having such a good day to begin with.”
“Forecheck - he…you-...” Spitfire stuttered.
“There never was a Forecheck,” Mimic said, bluntly.
Spitfire shook his head, laughing in disbelief. How long has he been running this ruse?
“Why are you doing this?” Spitfire yelled, “What do you want?”
“Why, it’s you that we want, my dear,” Mimic replied, “You and all your friends below. But even all the mighty Wonderbolts won’t make up for the last pony left that we need.”
Mimic turned back to Gorgo, who seemed so frustrated he could hardly breathe.
“Rainbow Dash,” Gorgo said, “No one can seem to find her.”
Mimic twitched.
“These ponies will make a sorry substitute if we can’t find her,” Mimic said, approaching Gorgo with a furrowed brow.
Gorgo growled something under his breath.
“These four are her friends, you said,” Gorgo recalled, “Wrap some rope around their necks, and the Element of Loyalty might be more willing to show her face.”
Mimic raised an eyebrow.
“What creature would be weak enough to fall for that?”
“A pony of Equestria,” Gorgo guffawed. The crew of black-armored soldiers roared in laughter, while Spitfire’s eyes narrowed. 
“Scour the city!” Mimic yelled, laughing to himself, “Find Rainbow Dash and inform her what will happen to her friends if she keeps playing hard-to-get. Find her and bring her to me, alive.” 
Spitfire shuddered as Gorgo’s cloven hoof came stroking against her cheek.
“Pray for our safe return, girl,” Gorgo grinned.   
The soldiers broke out into a frenzy, spreading their wings or teleporting away or jumping overboard to swim the way back to the island. 
He stormed off, leaving Mimic alone, while Thunderlane remained writhing and groaning, lying on the deck. Spitfire shook her head, laughing to herself. Of all the ponies in Equestria, Rainbow Dash would not make such easy prey.
They’ll have to catch her first.





The scrambling streets of Messara were a flood of screams, bodies barreling over one another, thrashing through for air and dashing for cover. The sky had begun to sour overhead, a pink and gold sunset. 
Ponies scurried to the scanty shelters and makeshift markets. The merchants had remained as they were, oblivious to the madness that had swept the arena.
Lightning Dust staggered along behind Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash. She left a trail of blood behind her, and she could feel herself lose her strength with every step. Those devils had poked her full of holes, and she was bleeding right into her sweaty suit. 
Rainbow and Scootaloo were sprinting along up ahead, taking care to make sure Lightning had not fallen too far behind. 
“For once you can’t keep up,” Rainbow laughed.
“Stuff it,” Lightning growled.
They had wound away from the main crowd of ponies, taking refuge in a dank cobblestone alley, sitting in the shadow of a ruinous bathhouse. 
Lightning caught her breath, leaning against the wall for support. 
Rainbow’s smirk dropped, when she finally noticed the extent of Lightning’s injuries.
“They got you bad,” Rainbow realized, “Lightning! Why didn’t you say anything?!”
Lightning ignored her, glancing over her shoulder to scan the skies.
Rainbow trotted towards her, frustrated.
“Hey. I need you to work with me, OK? We have to help each other.”
Lightning glared at her. 
“I don’t need your help.”
“I seem to remember saving your skin back there! They were turning you into a pony-pin cushion!”
Lightning scoffed. 
“Look out for yourself, Rainbow Dash. I’m surprised you can string a sentence together, after that fall you took.”
Rainbow shook her head, and flinched abruptly. Scootaloo, who had been trembling on the ground, suddenly became alert.
“I’m taking Scootaloo to the palace. If you’d rather fend for yourself, be my guest. But if you’ve got any sense left, you’ll come with us. My friend Twilight’s probably there right now, she’ll know what’s going on. Now, if you would kindly….A-Augh.”
Rainbow’s shoulders suddenly fell slack, and she lost her balance completely, lunging forward off her hooves. She would have landed flat on her face, if Lightning hadn’t been there to catch her.
“Rainbow!” Scootaloo cried, rushing over.
Lightning set her down on the ground, gently, and backed away.
Scootaloo pounced over Rainbow, examining her with shaky hooves.
“She’s…She’s-”
“She fainted,” Lightning determined, “Head trauma. She’ll wanna get that checked out.”
Lightning’s wings stretched out, and she turned back toward the street, while Scootaloo glanced up at her with tears in her eyes.
“Wait! Don’t go!”
Lightning eyed her, skeptically.
“Look kid, I’ve had as much of a rough day as everypony else, OK? I’m bleeding out a bit here, and if I don’t get stitched up, I won’t be much help to anypony. The palace isn’t far from here, you can make it.”
Lightning crouched down to propel herself up, until Scootaloo lunged toward her, wrapping her hooves around Lightning’s leg.
“What the-Hey! Get off!”
“Please Please Please don’t! Please!”
Lightning’s glare softened, and she glanced back at Rainbow, whose mouth hung open, whose eyes were glazed over. 
Her eyes fell back to Scootaloo, and she gave a muted sigh.
Lightning bent down beside Rainbow and tore off the grass-stained cerulean suit drenched in sweat, handing it to Scootaloo. 
“Help me pick her up,” Lightning said.
“Oh thank you thank you thank you!” Scootaloo exclaimed, rushing over back to Rainbow. 
Lightning grunted, crouching down to her knees beside Rainbow’s slumped over body. Lightning winced. Both of them reeked after a day of racing in the summer heat. Scootaloo helped push Rainbow on top of Lightning’s back.
“Keep an eye out for trouble, OK?” Lightning said, struggling to keep her balance.
Scootaloo nodded her head, too terrified to speak.
Lightning led Scootaloo further down the alley, emerging at the other side. 
Lightning’s ears perked up, as the screaming returned from afar. 
“Don’t slow down,” Lightning cautioned, ushering Scootaloo alongside her.
They soon came to another alleyway that emptied out down a flight of steps into a street, and continued on into a narrower lane crowded with dumpsters and debris. 
“It’s that way,” Scootaloo said, pointing towards the narrow lane.
They passed by the steps, until the sound of metal scraping against stone brought Lightning to a sudden stop.
“Wait!” Lightning yelled, sticking her hoof in front of Scootaloo. The arrow shot right past Scootaloo’s snout, and would have plunged through her right ear if Lightning hadn’t caught her first. 
Lightning turned to face him, the lone archer in black armor. 
She found him an underwhelming sight at a closer glance; he resembled a pony, only his skin was blackened and coarse like ash. He wore a set of red horns, and a pair of ruby-red eyes. He was short of stature, not much larger than Scootaloo. His teeth were pointed, his tongue forked, and his tail was leathery like a reptile, pointed at the tip. His wings were bristled with angry red veins, frayed and scaly like that of a dragon. 
“You guys are a lot uglier up close,” Lightning admitted.
“Speak for yourself, pegasus,” the creature hissed. He was glaring at her, until he noticed the pony slumped on her back, and Scootaloo beside her.
“R-Rainbow Dash!” the creature exclaimed, frantically searching for his radio, strapped somewhere to his belt.
Lightning heard him clear as day, and acted before she could think about it too much.
She dumped Rainbow on Scootaloo’s shoulders, nearly crushing the poor filly under her weight.	
“Leave the suit,” Lightning instructed. Scootaloo obliged, dropping Rainbow’s suit to the ground.
“What are you-” Scootaloo began.
“The palace is just one block away. You’ll make it. Find your friends,” Lightning said.
Scootaloo’s eyes darted back over to the creature in the alley. He had been muttering something into his radio, and quickly stuck it back into his belt, with shaky hooves.
“First day on the job or something? You look terrified,” Lightning laughed.
“You and the girl are free to go. As long as you hand over your friend there,” he said.
Lightning glanced at Rainbow.
“And what do you want with her?” 
“That’s none of your concern,” the creature snarled, “Now play nice. My friends are on their way here. Make it easy on yourself.”
Lightning bit her lip and glanced down at Scootaloo.
“Run, kid, go! Take her,” Lightning said.
Scootaloo shook her head.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Yes, you are. If things go south, find me at the eastern boardwalk. Now go.”
Scootaloo gulped, and nodded her head.
“Oh, and when she wakes up, tell her we’re even now, got it?”
Scootaloo jogged off, struggling to make any speed with Rainbow bouncing on her back.
The creature in the alley shook his head, regretfully.
“She won’t make it far. One last chance. All we want is Rainbow Dash,” the creature said. 
“She would’ve been too easy of a fight, trust me,” Lightning said, “Unlucky for you, you’re stuck with me instead.”
The creature hissed and lunged forward, his wings buzzing like a hummingbird. 
Lightning straightened herself out and stuck her hooves wider apart. He arrived quicker than she had anticipated, darting toward her like a hornet with its stinger, only he wielded a short-sword. 
Lightning threw herself out of the way, and dodged the follow-up strike, spinning around him in a circle, trying her best to wear him down as he sprang towards her with blade in hoof. He hissed with each slice, and managed to nick her across the chest three times in all. But Lightning was larger as well as quicker, and with his first misplaced step, she pounced on him from the side, tackling him against the wall. 
He reeled back against her hoof, which caught him by the helm, smashing his head into the brick. His body froze as the disorientation swept through him. His legs started scrambling, kicking and clawing in every which way, only Lightning had time to throw him down against the cobblestone, rattling his armor. 
He groaned in agony and reached for his blade on the ground, only for Lightning to kick it away.
Lightning knelt down beside him and pinned her foreleg against his neck. 
“What’s your name?”
The creature grunted in pain, and glared at her, struggling against the pressure on his neck.
“Gump!” he cried, “Gump!”
Lightning stared at him. She pitied him even more now. What kind of name is that?
“OK, Gump. Listen to me. I’m not gonna hurt you. As long as you do exactly as I say. Got it?”
Gump convulsed on the ground, groaning in frustration.
“No, you listen to me. We have hostages,” Gump spat, “Hundreds. If you don’t give her up, we’ll slaughter them all, one by one. It’s Rainbow Dash we need. Her and her friends!”
Lightning eyed him. Rainbow and her friends. Sometimes it really felt like the world revolved around them. 
“For all I know you’ll slaughter them anyways,” Lightning argued, “You’re not getting Rainbow.”
“Let her decide for herself! She might not be so willing to let her friends die!”
“Right. Lucky for her, I am,” Lightning said, “Now you’re gonna call up your friends again, Gump. And you’re gonna tell them that Rainbow got caught in a fire, and that she didn’t make it out. You’re gonna tell them to give up the search, because she’s dead.”
“There is no fire, pegasus!”
“Leave that part to me,” Lightning assured, “Do it. Now.” 
Gump hesitated, until Lightning increased the pressure on his throat.
“Alright! Alright! Let go!”
Lightning released him, but kept a watchful eye, as he reached for his radio.
He flipped a switch and held down a button.
“Basilisk-Six. Four-Zero-Four. Dash was caught in the fire. She didn’t make it out. Dead, presumed. Over,” he said.
Before he could receive any response, Lightning retrieved the radio and crushed it under her hoof. 
“Wicked pegasus!” Gump cried, “They’ll find out, they’ll have me killed!”
“No they won’t,” Lightning replied, rising to her hooves.
Gump meant to reply, before Lightning kicked him right in the head. His words slipped back down his throat, as he fell back in a slump.
She dragged Gump over back to the dark alley, hiding him beside a dumpster, burying him in trash bags. She found a pair of hoof-cuffs in his belt, and latched one end to the leg of the dumpster, and the other end to his hind leg. The keys, she kept for herself.
Darting back to retrieve Rainbow’s suit from the ground, Lightning left Gump and scurried off, thinking along the way of what the fastest method of starting a fire might be. 





“Dead?!”
Soarin awoke to the shriek, jumping beneath the ropes that held him to the great oak mast. Vapor was quivering beside him, when Soarin caught sight of Mimic smacking the messenger across his face.
“I don’t believe it,” Mimic roared, “This needs to be confirmed by an officer.”
“It has, sir,” replied the ghostly-white filly, Specter, who stepped forward to take the place of the messenger, “It was the private who had first reported what happened. Then the Twins reported the fire in the markets, and Alcazar found charred bones in the wreckage.”
“That’s not enough,” Mimic said, “Bones could belong to anybody.”
“They found scraps of her Wonderbolt suit still intact. We have all the Wonderbolts except for her, sir. It had to have been her.”
Mimic hesitated, and glanced at the ground.
“We needed her alive.”
“The Queen will understand,” Specter insisted.
Mimic shook his head, unconvinced.
“If she’s dead, there’s no more we can do. Burn the island to be sure. Then call them all back,” Mimic commanded.
“And what of these ones, sir?” Specter asked.
Mimic glanced at Soarin, Vapor, Thunderlane, and Spitfire.
“Give the girl to Gorgo. Throw the other three into the sea.”
Spitfire felt her breath give out, while Vapor began thrashing against her ropes, desperately trying to break free.
“Sir,” Specter said, hesitantly, “If Dash has survived somehow, we’re going to need them to get her to give up.”
Mimic eyed her.
“You pity them, is that it? You take pity on the ponies?” Mimic demanded.
“No, of course not, sir,” Specter replied, catching the eye of Spitfire for a brief moment, “I only fear that we should not waste our hostages without the Queen’s approval, since we’ll be returning short-handed.”
Mimic’s breath was jagged and rippling with rage.
“Very well. The Queen will decide their fate. Stick them with the others below, then send out the order.”
“At once, sir,” Specter replied, bowing her head.
Specter glided over toward Spitfire and the others. She was semi-translucent, Spitfire realized, and her hooves did not quite touch the ground. In all other ways, however, she resembled a typical earth pony filly, especially in comparison to the bloody monstrosity that was called Mimic.
Specter gently lifted Thunderlane up, and grabbed a hold of his leg. With her other hoof, she reached for Spitfire. 
Soarin watched the three of them descend straight through the wood as if it were a layer of seawater. Soarin glanced at Vapor, who felt too ill to be shocked at such a defiance of natural law.
Specter emerged back up from below deck, phasing through the wood. She reached for Soarin and Vapor. 
“Don’t you dare put your-” Soarin attempted, before her hoof wrapped around his leg. He felt the air around him become denser, shifting like a current. He felt as though he was submerged underwater, and yet could still breathe. The filly seemed amused by his confusion, and before he could quite get used to the feeling, he was falling, deeper and deeper, farther than the ground his legs had dangled against. He slipped right through the ropes, and Vapor beside him. 
They emerged through the wooden floor of the deck, and found themselves below in the dark of the galley, gliding down deeper and deeper, until Soarin could feel the breath of the ponies packed in alongside each other, crammed like sardines.
Specter released her grasp on them, dropping them a few inches beside Spitfire and Thunderlane.
“He meant to kill us,” Spitfire said, staggering up to her hooves, staring up at Specter, who was hovering in the air, “Why did you stop him?”
“Did I need a reason?” Specter replied, curtly, “...I’m sorry about your friend.”
She had little affection or respect for Mimic anyway, though Spitfire did not need to be made aware of it. Mimic was not truly one of them, after all, only a hired mercenary.
Spitfire did not get to reply, before Specter flew off back up through the ceiling, disappearing.
“What was that?” Soarin said, “What was that?”
He found himself surrounded by sixty or seventy other ponies, cluttered together for warmth or comfort. 
“Captain,” came Sky Stinger, followed by Fleetfoot, Surprise, Misty Fly, and a dozen other Wonderbolts, excusing their way through the crowd.
"Sky!" cried Vapor, leaping into his embrace. 
"You're not hurt!" Sky remarked, relieved. He held her close to him, while Fleetfoot and Misty immediately began fretting over Thunderlane, who groggily assured them he was fine.
Spitfire checked in on each of them, but was grieved to learn that the rest of the team was being held in another compartment of the ship, with the other eighty-odd captives. 
“Where are they taking us?” asked one colt from the back of the galley.
“Listen, everypony, we’re not sure. I need all of you to be brave, and be calm, and stick out the ride for a little while until we can get some answers,” Spitfire said.
“And who put you in charge?”
Spitfire had dreaded the rebuke, having noticed that familiar toxic green and black pattern from the furthest corner of the room.
Only four of the Washouts were present in the galley to challenge the Wonderbolts, who, as usual, outnumbered them.
She recognized Rolling Thunder as the one who had spoken; the mare’s accent was unmistakable. Beside her was the one they called Breakbones, a pale yellow pegasus with a thick black mustache, itchy stubble, and a curly black mane. Spitfire recalled he was rejected from the academy because of his startling propensity for injury. Even now, the stallion wore a bandage around his left foreleg knee. Spitfire had never relished in rejecting trainees, though she understood the hard truths of her job. Not everypony was cut out to be a Wonderbolt. End of story. Still, she felt a tinge of regret to look them in the eyes after the fact, knowing it was her who shattered their dreams. 
Madcap was the other Washout, and next to her was Hat Trick, both rejected academy applicants from the class of ‘79. Hat Trick was the youngest of the Washouts, sporting a wavy mane of bronze locks, and a lighter orange coat. Madcap was not much older, with a pale green coat and a curly mane of baby blue and lavender, and a pair of wild eyes. 
Thunderlane grunted something under his breath from the ground, and sat himself up as if to meet the challenge. 
“Go back to lurking in your corner of shame, Washouts,” Thunderlane coughed.
“Pretty shiner they gave you, Thunderlane. And here I didn’t think that face could get any uglier,” Hat Trick laughed.
“Somepony has to take the hits so little girls like you don’t have to,” Thunderlane sneered.
“What did they want with you?” Rolling Thunder asked Spitfire, ignoring the japes. Rolling might have been the most reasonable of the bunch, though that wasn't saying much. Still, Spitfire had no intention of perpetuating any bad blood between anypony, not while they all remained locked up in the dark.
“They thought they could lure Rainbow out if they threatened our lives," Spitfire explained, "Now they’re saying Rainbow’s dead,”
“But you don’t seem to be grieving,” Rolling Thunder said, suspiciously.
“I know Rainbow better than they do. She got out. I know she did. And she’s coming for us,” Spitfire insisted.
“...Ms. Spitfire, did they mention Lightning Dust?” Madcap asked, hesitant to speak up to Spitfire, “Did they take her too?”
“I don’t know,” Spitfire said, gently. 
“If Rainbow’s really dead, it should’ve been Lightning Dust to take her place,” Fleetfoot said through a heavy lisp, “Your blonde bimbo captain almost got Rainbow killed.”
“Lightning had nothing to do with that crash,” Breakbones said, and he happened to be an expert on the subject of crashing, “I saw what happened. Dash tensed up, lost control, spiraled off into the dirt. Happens to the best of us."
"Maybe for the likes of you," Misty said, eyeing him up and down, "The Cloudsdale paramedics know you by name. Rainbow doesn't make those kind of mistakes. Unlike you all she takes her job seriously."
“Keep telling yourself that," Hat Trick grinned, "Sorry your hero isn’t all she’s cracked up to be."
“One more word from you and you’ll be a few teeth shorter,” Thunderlane said, struggling up to his hooves. Soarin helped him up, standing beside Sky Stinger and Vapor. Breakbones and Hat Trick were right beside Rolling, while Madcap nervously hung back. The crowd of civilians backed away from the centerfloor of the galley. Nopony had expected an encore of the fight from earlier that day.
"Sky, tell them to stop," Vapor pleaded. But Sky seemed only concerned with the two of them, keeping away from the confrontation.
“Stop! All of you,” Spitfire yelled, “We can’t be fighting with each other. Not right now. For Celestia’s sake, ponies could die if we’re not careful.”
“They can find their own way out of here,” Fleetfoot turned toward Spitfire, before turning back to Rolling, “You won’t get any help from us.”
“Good thing we didn’t ask for any,” Rolling Thunder pointed out, “I reckon we get out of here first, in fact. And you’ll be wishing you acted nicer.”
“As if,” Misty Fly recoiled, “You’re not a team. Just a collection of rejects.”
“We’ll see about that,” Rolling said, turning and leading the other three back to their corner.
Spitfire glared at the others.
“We’d be better off all working together,” Spitfire insisted.
“We won’t be at each other’s throats, if we work separately. That’s the best we can do,” Sky Stinger supposed, “We won’t have to put up with them much longer. Let’s find a way out of here.”





Scootaloo tugged on Rainbow by her shoulders, struggling up the marble steps. She had made it two steps with Rainbow on her back before she had to give up, resorting now to dragging her up all the way to the palace.
The higher she rose, the more devastation she could make out - fires had started to the west, east, north and south, and she could make out the sound of ponies’s screams coming from all directions.
She thought of Lightning Dust, of where she might be. I left her. 
Scootaloo jumped when she heard Rainbow cough, and let go of her, rushing down to her side.
“Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo yelled, shaking Rainbow awake.
Rainbow’s eyes slowly opened, and she seemed alarmed, confused as to where she was or how much time had passed.
“Scootaloo,” Rainbow gasped, sitting herself up. She realized that was a mistake, as a deep pressure overcame her around the front of her skull.
Rainbow turned her head and saw they were near the palace.
“What happened?” Rainbow stammered, “Where’s Lightning?”
“We have to get inside! They’re after you, Rainbow! We have to get out of the open!” Scootaloo wailed.
Rainbow grunted as she struggled up to her hooves. Her head was pounding, along with the rest of her body. She could feel every bruise.
“C’mon,” she said, scooping up Scootaloo and dashing off up the steps.
At the top of the palace steps, they were met by a lone royal guard, a broad-shouldered stallion colored off-white with a stubbly face of faded black. Beneath his golden helm, his mane was all shaved off.
“You look lonely up here,” Rainbow remarked, setting Scootaloo down on the ground. She approached the soldier, who had yet to acknowledge her.
He did not budge from his post, blocking the path to the doors. 
“That’s far enough,” he said at last.
“What’s the idea? I need to see Twilight.”
“You won’t find her here. The princesses have all been taken,” the soldier replied, grimly.
Rainbow’s mouth tightened; she did her best to appear unphased, while Scootaloo’s trembling returned.
“Who’s left, then?”
“The chain of command has left Princess Twilight’s assistant as the interim sovereign.”
Rainbow and Scootaloo shared a look.
“Spike?” Scootaloo figured, raising an eyebrow.
“Let me inside, I need to see him,” Rainbow said.
“I don’t take orders from you,” the soldier rebuked, “Nopony is allowed entry. Word is there’s a shapeshifter lurking about.”
Rainbow gestured to Scootaloo.
“Did they mention two?”
“Might be the girl is fool enough to trust in an illusion,” the soldier supposed.
Scootaloo marched right up to him, scowling all the way. 
“If you don’t let us inside, I’m going to let Spike know it was you who left her outside to be ponynapped like everypony else!” Scootaloo barked, “Do you understand me?!”
The soldier glanced up at Rainbow, who was too exhausted to match Scootaloo’s frustration.
He shook his head.
“Follow me,” he said.
The soldier, whose name was Dire Strait, led the pair deeper into the palace, up a winding flight of stairs to the solar, where Twilight had taken as her personal quarters.
There were roughly thirty-or-so survivors, sprawled around the floor in filthy heaps, mending wounds or strategizing for where to run next.
“Miss Cheerilee!” Scootaloo exclaimed. She found the schoolteacher wrapped in a blanket by the western window, her mane a mess, her eyes red and runny.
Cheerilee leapt up from the ground in time to receive Scootaloo, who embraced her like a lost dog coming home. 
“Scootaloo, dear, you’re alright!” Cheerilee exclaimed, holding the quivering filly to her chest.
Rainbow staggered in, catching the eyes of the other survivors. She recognized a few faces - Paint Job and Feather Flatterfly, Sunshower, Fancy Pants, Orange Slice, and Party Favor. But it was Spike who she was most concerned with.
To his left was the Treasury Secretary, Posh Paramount, and the Chancellor of the Equestrian Academic Association, Neighsay; and to his right was Moonbeam, the Colonel of the 19th Lunar Regiment, and the Royal Physician, Dr. Bone Marrow. They were huddled around chalkboards and maps, and she caught them in the midst of a terrible argument. 
“Rainbow?” Spike exclaimed, loud enough to be heard over the others’ bickering, “You’re here!”
Rainbow wrapped her foreleg around Spike’s head as he came in for a hug. 
“So you’re running the show now, is that right?” Rainbow asked Spike, glancing over his head at the disgruntled quartet of government officials.
“On a technicality,” Neighsay growled, “Princess Twilight’s emergency powers were to be given to Princess Cadance, then to Starlight Glimmer, and finally to him.”
“And we’re all better off for it,” Spike smiled, “How did you make it out of there?”
“I had help,” Rainbow said, glancing at Scootaloo, “Is it safe here?”
“It is now. The enemy has begun to withdraw,” Moonbeam said, “We’re not sure why. They were last seen sailing southwest.”
“They’re taking a a few hundred ponies back with them on that ship of theirs,” Posh said, “They took Celestia, Twilight, Luna, Cadance, even little princess Flurry.”
“Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie, Fluttershy, what about them? And my parents, they were here too…Are they…” Rainbow asked, glancing down at Spike.
Spike shook his head.
“I was looking for Celestia and Luna when it happened, but I was too late to help anypony. They’re all gone, Rainbow. Your parents too,” Spike said.
Rainbow’s face twitched with rage. 
“We can’t wait around here or we’ll lose the trail,” Rainbow said, “We have to follow that ship.”
“We can’t,” Moonbeam said, “They disabled all of our ships. Civilian boats too. We’ll have to wait for ships from the mainland to reach us, until then we’re stranded here.”
“Even if we could catch them, we wouldn’t stand much of a chance,” came Posh, “Our standing army is depleted, and the citizenry is too terrified to leave their homes.”
“We can’t just do nothing,” Rainbow said.
“We’ll do what we can,” Spike replied, “We have to try and figure out where they’re sailing to, who they are and what they want.”
He glanced over at the maps that lay strewn about Twilight’s work tables.
“They couldn’t have come from Zebrabwe or Evenchain,” Neighsay said, “Not Saddle Arabia or the Grey Isle.”
“An island then. The Storm King’s domain, maybe. Some acolytes of his seeking revenge,” Moonbeam posited.
Rainbow shook her head, unconvinced.
“Those creatures weren’t like anything I’ve seen,” Rainbow said, “Something tells me we won’t find them on any map.”
“They weren’t sailing for the Gap of Aashtethos,” Moonbeam recalled, “They mean to remain in the Meditermarian. Sailing to some uncharted isle, if we’re to believe our friends on the west continent really have nothing to do with this.”
“Let’s not create more enemies than we already have,” Posh counseled, “We should contact the Zebras and the Saddle Arabians, see if they know anything about these creatures. They may be able to help us locate them.”
“I’ll handle that,” Neighsay said, slipping off from the group.
Rainbow stepped closer to Spike.
“We might not have time to figure things out, Spike. We don’t know what those creatures are or what they’re planning,” Rainbow said, “All those ponies could end up dead by the time we finally reach them, if we don’t follow them while we can.”
“Rainbow, I would if I could, but-” Spike said.
“I’ll go. Me alone,” Rainbow said, “I can fly after them, follow them to their island, and report back. Otherwise we’ll never be able to find out where they are.”
“Rainbow, that’s crazy. Way too dangerous. You? By yourself? Against all of those creatures? You’re hurt anyways. You’re not going anywhere. We need you here,” Spike said.
“I wasn’t asking for permission,” Rainbow said. Posh and Moonbeam glanced up at her.
“Twilight left me in charge,” Spike reminded, glaring at her, “You’re not going, Rainbow.”
Rainbow glanced around the room, and could feel their stares.
She turned away and stormed out of the solar. 
Scootaloo scampered after her, glancing over her shoulder one last time. 
Spike, meanwhile, lowered his head and sighed, and glanced over to Dire, who had been lingering in the doorway.
“Sergeant, follow her. Don’t let her leave this island.”





The barracks were a mess, even by the Washouts’ standards.
None of her teammates had made it back, or if they had, they hadn’t stayed long.
Maybe they made it out. Maybe they flew across the sea, all the way back home.
Lightning winced. It was a fool’s hope. She had seen them take Rolling Thunder, Strawberry Switchblade and Loudmouth. Breakbones had been with the trainer, Sugar Rush, and the team coordinator, Snapwing. They were gone too, they all were.
She dragged Gump behind her, just as he began to stir awake.
She cuffed him to a radiator by the window of the lounge, and even flipped on the television to keep him company.
Lightning sulked off to Sugar Rush’s office, and raided each drawer for medical supplies. She first took to cleaning her many wounds, before promptly moving onto the stitching. 
She climbed out of her bloodied suit and leapt into the shower, eager to scrub off all of the dirt and blood. 
Unlike the Wonderbolts, each Washout had a collection of a spare suits, an unfortunate necessity considering how often disaster would strike the group. She slipped her fore legs inside, shimmied her hips around and reached back with her aching wings. Gripping each end of the suit, she slid the suit over her muscular, tone hindlegs. Whatever fat remained to her only ever seemed to end up in her rump, providing a tired challenge to squeeze her suit over. She thought of Hat Trick then, how’d he be sure to make some perverted comment, or, if he was feeling bold, some proper advance on her. 
She was worried about them, she realized. They’re not my friends. She kept reminding herself of that, but it did little to quell her concerns. They would find a way to escape, she thought.
She thought of Strawberry’s dry humor, and Loudmouth’s semi-accurate stories of his past. She thought of Feather Twirl’s hypochondria, Indigo’s afternoon brooding sessions, and Breakbones’ newest injuries.
And for Rolling Thunder and Short Fuse, she feared for them the most. 
They were all one in the same, and had found each other on such grounds. Cast-outs and second-stringers. They were practically a family. But not friends. I don’t need friends. 
She found Gump awake, his eyes fixed to the TV.
Though she had come into the room with a burning rage, her heart softened at the sight of Gump. He was not quite so repulsive anymore, if anything, somewhat pathetic. He was a stunted creature, with a head too large for his body, and legs too short. His face was shrunken and twisted, but his eyes were a marvel of a sight, endless shimmering stars, precious gems. He was some sort of dwarf pony, she thought, though she could not be certain. His species was alien to her, after all.
“Enjoying yourself?” she asked, catching Gump by surprise. He had been engrossed with the television, not unlike a child admiring a ring of jingling keys. 
Gump immediately began wrestling with the cuff around his hoof, to no avail.
“Free me, witch!” Gump roared.
Lightning stood in front of him, staring him down. She could see the fear in his eyes, but did not relent.
“Your friends are all gone,” Lightning said, “They left you. Now you’re stuck with me.”
“Liar!” Gump yelled, “Wicked little pegasus! Unchain me!”
Lightning grunted, feeling a sting around one of her wounds.
"You think your little trick could fool us? Stupid pegasus. They know exactly what you've done!"
"Yes, your friends' brilliance is astounding," Lightning japed, "Some discard butcher's bones and a torn-up Wonderbolt suit, and they're content to give up and go home....Gump, what are the chances they come back for you?” 
Gump’s face fell, as realization overcame him.
“My duty is to fight and die for the Queen. There’s no honor to be had as a prisoner! Kill me now! As long as I live in chains, I’ve disgraced myself!”
“I’ll take that as not anytime soon….” Lightning reasoned, “Alright. Well if they won’t come back, then I’ll have to go to them.”
“Your friends will all be dead soon, pegasus. Their fates are sealed. You should consider yourself lucky. When the real war begins, you might be made into a slave instead of a corpse. Wouldn’t that be a sight,” Gump snarled.
Lightning smacked him across the face.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Lightning spat. She tensed up at the thought. She scowled; she refused to let Gump succeed in scaring her. "And they’re not my friends. They’re my teammates,” Lightning corrected.
Lightning stuck out a map of the South Lunar Sea, which she had taken from Snapwing’s office. 
“Where exactly are you taking all those ponies? Point out the place on the map,” Lightning said.
Gump guffawed.
“The island is not on any map. It can only be found by those who have been there before,” Gump said.
“Then I suppose I’ll be taking you with me,” Lightning figured. “Still. I’ll be needing a heading.”
Gump shook his head.
“Never. I’ll never help you, pegasus!” Gump spat.
“You’re going to tell me what I want to know, or I’ll snap every bone in your body,” Lightning threatened, “So what’s it going to be?”
Gump gulped, as the sweat dripped off his chin.
 




At the Wonderbolts' barracks, Rainbow was grieved to find she was indeed the last Wonderbolt remaining. Scootaloo had tagged along with her, unwilling to go anywhere else but Rainbow's side.
Rainbow slid into her blue jacket with the fur around the collar and the Wonderbolt insignia on the breast, and filled a bag with a first aid kit, bottles of water, protein pills, rope, and matches. 
"That ship can't be more than a few hours out," Rainbow said, "I can catch it. No problem."
Scootaloo raised an eyebrow.
"You don't know how far it'll be, and you'll have no place to rest over open water," Scootaloo pointed out, "We all saw that crash, Rainbow. Maybe it's not such a good idea to go out alone to a place you don't know, miles and miles or leagues away."
"You sound like Spike," Rainbow muttered, cramming in the last of her supplies into the bag, "They have my parents. They have all my friends, and they have my entire team. The longer we wait, the harder the trail will be to find. I have to go."
"I know, but....You're not the only pony on this island who'll try to catch up to them."
Rainbow eyed her, after stuffing her bag with the last of the barracks' Munchos dried-fruit jerky. 
"...Lightning Dust?" Rainbow supposed.
“She told me to find her at the boardwalk,” Scootaloo said, “...She wanted me to tell you that the two of you are even now.”
Rainbow scoffed.
“Well there you have it,” Rainbow said, “Scootaloo, I’ve warned you about her before. Lightning Dust is a pony who doesn’t care if ponies get hurt. She's reckless and arrogant and only cares about herself."
“She didn’t have to help me,” Scootaloo said, “She could’ve left me right then and there. She could’ve left me when that creature found us, too. But she didn’t. You know that she’s going to want to find her friends, just as much as you do. We should all be working together.”
Rainbow sighed, unconvinced.
“You’re forgetting that we can’t work together,” Rainbow said.
"Can't you at least try?" came Scootaloo.
Rainbow laughed.
"I did try. When we first met, I couldn't sleep at night because of how excited I was. A friend my age who was as fast as me, who was as determined as me, who loved flying as much as me. She was supposed to be the friend I'd always wanted. I was her wing-pony, and that meant something to me. But it didn't mean much to her, in the end. I trusted her, and she took advantage of that. She almost got my friends killed, and didn't show a hint of remorse. She wouldn't even speak to me, not until the Washouts showed up at Ponyville. And then she tries to turn you against me, and almost gets you killed too! Just to get under my skin! I've been as nice as I can be to her, Scootaloo, because that's the right thing to do. But I won't put my trust in her. Not again. Not for something as important as this, when my real friends are in danger."
Scootaloo sighed.	
“If you really plan on flying off into open water, searching for an island that may or may not exist - then you’re gonna need help," Scootaloo said,  "That's the plain truth, and you know it. Everypony else is gone, Rainbow Dash. I know you don't like her, and I'm not saying you don't have a good reason, but Lightning Dust is all that’s left."
Rainbow glanced down at her. She gritted her teeth.
“Alright, Scootaloo. I’ll talk to her. But if she won’t play nice, this isn’t happening, got it?...”
Scootaloo smiled. 





The sun had nearly sunk past the edge of the sea, when Rainbow touched down on the boardwalk. 
The docks looked abandoned when they arrived; Rainbow and Scootaloo parked themselves on the roof of one of the shops. There was no sign of Lightning, and though Rainbow’s patience was razor-thin, Scootaloo had a talent for persuasion. After the first hour, though, even Scootaloo had begun to doubt herself. Perhaps that creature had killed Lightning after all, or taken her hostage, or perhaps Lightning had already left the island. 
But her fears were put to rest, when a familiar green blur shot through the wispy rose clouds that hovered over the sunset.
Scootaloo shook Rainbow alert, and pointed to the sky.
Rainbow sighed, and took to her hooves.
They followed Lightning to one of the wooden garages closer to the beach. The sky turned from pink to purple, and the garage’s orange oil lamps left it a beacon by the shoreline. 
Rainbow led Scootaloo down to the edge of the garage, staking out behind a boat engine large enough to obscure the both of them. They were only a few minutes behind Lightning, whose voice became clearer the closer they crept. 
But she was not alone, they discovered. She had come to visit somepony, Rainbow realized.
The garage itself was closer to a scrapyard, littered with rusty tools and black oily rags. 
At the center of it all was a boat, or something close to a boat -  a collection of scrap metal and driftwood, fixed with a strange kind of engine, rivets and two funnel-shaped exhaust vents in its rear. Up on its helm, a pair of canvas wings folded neatly on either side, clutching to fixable metal poles. 
Rainbow could only barely peek into the garage without revealing herself. Scootaloo, meanwhile, was intent on marching right inside to confront Lightning. 
“Wait,” Rainbow said, catching Scootaloo in her hoof, “Not yet…”
They crouched behind the engine. Rainbow noticed a large box near Lightning Dust’s hooves, and another pony, a pegasus stallion, with a dark orange mane, a trimmed, scruffy beard, and a pale tan coat. 
“I could’ve sworn the last thing you said to me was, ‘I never want to see you again,” the stallion grunted, fiddling with the open hatch beneath his monstrous ship.
“I heard you’d come to watch my race,” Lightning said.
The stallion laughed. Lightning blushed beet red. 
“There’s tens of thousands of ponies on this island, some of them with deep pockets and generous spirits, in need of a ride home after a well-deserved vacation. They’re why I’m here, not you,” he corrected, “I watched your race. You were good.
“I know I was,” Lightning snapped, though she seemed to crave his validation.
Rocket glanced at her. 
“I’m surprised that ass of yours still fits in that suit,” Rocket laughed, “I’m kidding. Not about your ass. That I’d be surprised.” 
“Shut up,” Lightning replied, promptly, “Where’s Harefoot? Wrench?”
“Got held up in the markets, they haven’t come back. Same as your friends, no doubt.”
“They’re not my-....Look, I have something to show you,” Lightning said.
The stallion glanced at her.
Lightning kicked over the box, and the lid promptly fell off. Out fell Gump, tumbling over his head into a heap.
From the engine, Rainbow's eyes widened.
"She took one captive," Rainbow whispered, and she could feel her heart fill with hope. The creature could lead them right to where they needed to go, nevermind the ship's trail. 
Rocket Fuel backed away from the ship, and from Gump, who was stretching his legs in a pair of manacles. 
“Of course you took one as a pet,” Rocket remarked, “Does it speak?”
“Of course I speak,” Gump spat. He spun around to face Lightning Dust, “I told you what you wanted. Set me free, pegasus!”
Lightning smirked.
“That was never the deal. The deal was you do what I say, and I don’t beat you bloody.”
Rocket laughed.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
“I have, actually. I know better than to ask you a favor without you expecting something in return,” Lightning said.
He grinned.
“You know what I want, Dusty,” Rocket said.
Lightning sighed.
“I’m not…We can’t. You know we can’t,” Lightning said, “Rocket, listen to me. You’re the only pony left on this island with a working boat.”
The stallion’s eyes wavered back and forth, before he came to a grim understanding.
“You want to follow that monstrous ship of theirs, is that it? I think you’ve had one too many crash landings, Dusty. You’re nuts. They’ve got an army. And nopony knows where they’ve gone, anyhow.”
“I do,” Lightning declared. She reached into her satchel and snatched her map, laying it out on Rocket’s workbench. “Do you know anything about this?” 
Rocket humored her, trotting over to inspect the map. He narrowed his eyes, before glancing over to Gump.
“Your little creature here is suggesting we sail to the Sirius Circle," Rocket said, "Fishwives’ tales tell of ships disappearing there, for hundreds and hundreds of moons, they say. A death trap of jagged stone, crushing waves, and fog so dense you can’t see your own hoof in front of you. Nothing to be found there but certain doom."
Lightning frowned.
“Is that right, Gump? You’re trying to play a trick on me? What did I say would happen if-”
“Stupid pegasus! Are all ponies as thick as the two of you?! The Circle guards the island, protects us from the outside world, and protects the outside world from us. That’s where they’ve gone. Back home,” Gump snarled.
Lightning glanced at Rocket.
“Oh no, don’t give me that look,” Rocket said, “That boat is my livelihood, Dusty. I’m not crashing it into the most cursed place in the sea just so you can get slaughtered by that army of flying devils.”
“Oh for Luna’s sake. You’re scared, that’s it,” Lightning laughed.
“You call it scared, I call it common sense, something you still haven’t seemed to pick up.”
“Gump. Say we do find a way to reach the island,” Lightning said, “What will be waiting for us?”
Gump laughed aloud.
“We are all damned, and the island is our hell. The ground will quake and devour you if you take the wrong step. Even the plants will try to kill you if you trot down the wrong path. Some of us have minds of our own, but some are savage beasts who ravage whatever comes their way. Every pony who winds up on our shores has never lasted longer than a day.”
“Sounds like a pleasant place. We should set sail immediately,” Rocket laughed.
“If it’s so horrible, why do you stay?” Lightning said, skeptically.
“The Circle compels us to stay,” Gump said, “Any monster who manages to break free has but three days before they crumble to ash. A wicked curse, cast by a cruel Equestrian king of a bygone age to punish us and keep us trapped.”
“So if I don’t return you back soon, you’d-”
“Die. As I was meant to, the moment you strapped me in chains. There is no place for the weak in the Queen’s Army.”
“A queen, you say? How old?” Rocket wondered.
“Three-thousand, two-hundred and seventy-two,” Gump replied. He seemed proud to have answered so promptly.
Rocket glanced at Lightning and shrugged.
“I’ve had worse.”
Lightning glared at him.
“They have your friends, Rocket,” Lightning reminded, “Don’t you want to get them back?”
Rocket scratched at his ears.
“Harefoot’s a lousy mechanic. And Wrench is dull as dirt. I can find better.”
“I can’t believe you,” Lightning said, “I need your help. You won’t have to pull your boat to shore. Just get me close, and I’ll fly the rest of the way myself. I can pay double whatever fare you’d earn for the same distance. Rocket. Rocket, please.”
Rocket smiled. He had such an easy smile to him.
“Well, I never could deny you anything.”
Lightning smiled, but only for a moment, before she noticed a strand of purple hair sticking out from behind a tarp-covered engine outside.
Lightning was on them in an instant, darting through the air to catch Scootaloo by her hoof.
Rainbow Dash was at her hooves already, while Lightning led Scootaloo into the light.
“Eavesdropping, huh?” Lightning growled. 
“Lightning, put her down now,” Rainbow warned.
“More friends. Great,” Rocket muttered.
“Rocket, this is Rainbow Dash,” Lightning said. Rocket raised an eyebrow.
“This is the one you’re always harping on about, Dusty? Doesn’t look so tough,” Rocket said, “And the twerp?”
“I’m not a twerp, I’m Scootaloo,” Scootaloo said.
“Haven’t you got something better to do than spy on me?” Lightning demanded.
“It just so happens I was planning on flying after that ship," Rainbow said, "Seems like you’ve got the same idea.”
Lightning laughed.
“Me saving your butt back there does not make us friends,” Lightning said.
“Like I'd ever want to be friends with you," Rainbow snapped. But she saw Lightning's mouth tighten and her cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Rainbow's own face flushed with regret, "Look, both of us want the same thing - our friends back. If what your little prisoner there said about that island is true, then you’re going to need my help."
“I don’t need anypony’s help!” Lightning barked.
 “Except for me and my ship, of course,” Rocket reminded, “And considering I’ve got the only good ship on the island, my rates are about to go up. There's a few thousand terrified ponies left on this rock, desperate to get back home…I’m about to be rich. Very rich. For Celestia’s sake, why would I give that up?”
“For me,” Lightning said, eyeing him.
Rocket hesitated, and glanced down at Gump. His eyes drifted over to Rainbow, and a smile found its way to his face.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” he announced, “I’ll ferry you to the Circle. But that’s as far as I’ll go. And you’ll be paying triple the fare.”
He slid his way toward Rainbow Dash.
“But if I do it, she comes too.”
Lightning’s face reddened again. Rainbow eyes darted from Lightning to Rocket. 
“Rocket,” Lightning said through gritted teeth.
“For Dusty’s safety, of course,” Rocket said, turning back to Lightning, “I wouldn’t have you journey to that island by your lonesome. And after all, when you’re getting liquefied in some carnivorous plant’s stomach acids, you’d at least do it with some company.”
“No way. She’s not coming,” Lightning insisted, “She’ll be trouble.”
“Like you’re not trouble enough?” Rocket laughed, “It’s my ship. And world-famous beauties like Rainbow Dash are always welcome on my ship. You call her trouble, I call her a sight for sore eyes…I’ve got a few repairs to make before we can set off. Shouldn’t take long.”
Lightning grumbled something under her breath, while Rainbow ushered Scootaloo to sit herself down on one of Rocket’s benches. 





Rainbow and Scootaloo served as something of an audience for Rocket, who toiled with his beastly ship, sporting a pair of bulky black goggles.
But after twenty minutes, Rainbow could not avoid some strange sense of guilt; from the corner of her eyes Lightning had been sitting silently by her lonesome, picking at her wounds. 
Gump refuses to speak with anybody, brooding in chains by his toppled-over crate,
Rainbow sighed to herself, and stood up from the bench.
“Scootaloo, go see if he needs any help,” Rainbow instructed.
Scootaloo acquiesced, skipping off toward Rocket.
Rainbow, meanwhile, glided over to Lightning.
“Scoot over,” Rainbow said.
Lightning glared at her, but after a brief hesitation, she complied, making room on the bench for Rainbow.
“I never said thanks for what you did,” Rainbow said.
“Don’t mention it. Seriously,” Lightning muttered, “...You never found your friends?”
“They’re all gone,” Rainbow said, “My parents too. And unlike you I actually like my friends.”
Lightning glared at her.
“...I shouldn’t have been the only Washout to make it out,” Lightning confessed, “It shouldn’t have been me. It’s not right. I brought them all together, I brought them here. I’m supposed to be responsible for them. That’s why I have to get them back, get it? By all rights I should be in chains with them. And what’s worse, it was you who pulled me out of there.”
“You did me a favor, too,” Rainbow reminded, and by the softness in Lightning's voice, she began to wonder if she had judged her old rival too harshly. 
“You know I can’t stand you,” Lightning said, quickly changing Rainbow's mind, “...But I’m sorry if I gave you a hard time earlier, OK?”
“Me too,” Rainbow conceded, “I’m angry too. They took all my friends, and I might never see them again.”
“We’ll find them,” Lightning said, firmly. 
“We?” 
Lightning sighed.
“I don’t trust you,” Lightning said, “But I guess it wouldn't hurt to have somepony to check my back. And Celestia knows - you’re gonna need me.”
Rainbow smiled.
“All aboard,” Rocket said from the ramp of his ship, “She still isn’t pretty, but she’ll fly.”
“Fly?” Lightning said, rising from the bench with Rainbow.
“There’s a reason I charge double,” Rocket grinned.
Rainbow followed Lightning toward the ramp that led inside the vessel. But she stopped short, when she heard Scootaloo skipping along beside her.
“Where do y’think you’re going, Scoots?” Rainbow said, catching Scootaloo with her hoof.
“Wherever you go,” Scootaloo said, “Don’t even think about leaving me here.”
“Scootaloo, you saw what those creatures can do,” Rainbow said, shaking her head, “The place we’re going is dangerous. And I can’t be worrying about you while I try to get everypony back.”
“I’m not gonna get in the way,” Scootaloo said, shoving Rainbow’s hoof away, “They took my friends too. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell need me. I can help. You know I can.”
Rainbow sighed.
“Yeah, I know you can. But maybe I’m not brave enough to take that risk,” Rainbow said, “For all I know, you’re all I have left, Scoots. I won’t let them take you too. You’re safest here.”
Scootaloo scowled, but seemed to concede, remaining as she was while Rainbow boarded the ship.
Gump crawled up after Rainbow, taking care to hiss at Scootaloo before boarding. 
The inside of the ship was cozy - too cozy. The front portion was all glass, held together by warped black steel. The cockpit was fitted with a dozen blinking control panels, flashing red, green, blue, gold. Levers and pulleys and dials protruded from the console. In the rear, there were two more compartments, storage areas.
“I’ll be shocked if this hunk of junk can float, let alone fly,” Lightning said. Rainbow and Gump piled in behind her, while Rocket took his seat behind the control panel.
“She does more than that,” Rocket laughed.
With the flick of a few switches, two pairs of wheels popped out from the underbelly of the ship. They extended outward on either side.
Rocket pulled down on a lever, and the ramp the ship was resting on began to rise at an incline.
“You built this thing?” Rainbow wondered, as the ship began to descend down the rank, as gravity took its toll. The ship landed on its wheels, and Rocket took a firm grip of the steering wheel. He pressed down on the gas pedal, and the ship began rolling forward, right out of the garage. 
“Bought the prototype off some crackpot Casaflankan. His greatest work ended up his undoing, it didn’t pass regulation, and he lost his license. He thought I’d break it down for spare parts. But I had other ideas.”
“Does it have a name?” Rainbow asked.
Rocket meant to answer, before the words stuck in his throat, “Uh, no.”
He steered the ship to face the boardwalk.
“Better hold onto something,” Rocket advised.
He flipped another switch and slammed a button, and the canvas wings promptly extended from the bow, bending and stretching out, covering a great many yards in its total wingspan. 
“This cannot be legal,” Lightning muttered.
“Funny. That’s what the port authority told me,” Rocket said.
The ship set forward down the boardwalk, building speed as they went.
“R-Rocket, I don’t th-” Lightning stuttered, as the ship sped up more and more.
“Don’t get cold hooves now, Dusty. This was your idea.”
The edge of the boardwalk was fast approaching. The sea beyond was deep enough, though with the speeds they were going, the collision would not be pretty.
“Here we go!” Rocket grinned, pulling the lever to his right.
The ship began to rise, first gradually, and then at a steep, steep climb, clawing up through the air.
Rocket gritted his teeth, holding the lever and keeping a firm hold of the steering wheel.
The turbulence came quickly, as the ship bounced through tunnels of wind, gaining great swathes of altitude with each passing second.
Rainbow shook her head in disbelief.
“This thing really flies,” she said, shocked.
“This thing really flies!” Rocket exclaimed. He sounded somewhat surprised himself.
Lightning glared at him.
“It gets off the ground alright. But can you land it?” Lightning asked.
Rocket’s smile dropped.
The ship returned to a straight course, as the thrusters coughed up fire and smoke, swimming through the air currents half-a-mile above the crashing waves.
“Well, that’s the trouble,” Rocket admitted.
“You don’t know how to land it. Am I right?” Lightning scoffed, “You neglected to mention that.”
“I have landed it. It’s just…It never goes well.”
“Great,” Rainbow said, “I guess we’ll just have to - whooaoa!!”
Against a particularly strong bump in the air, Rainbow came flying forward, right toward the dashboard.
But before she could land face-first against the glass, it was Rocket who caught her, setting her back on her hooves.
Rainbow glanced at him, and he seemed reluctant to say anything. She did not pull away, however, remaining in his hooves. 
Lighting, meanwhile, had turned red again.
She meant to step forward, until she heard some rustling from behind her. Scootaloo and Gump stepped out of her way, as she investigated.
She reached for the handle to the storage closet, and opened the hatch.
Lightning screamed and swung her hoof into the compartment. A stallion came stumbling out, only to suffer another blow from Lightning.
She had him pinned to the ground soon enough. 
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Lightning lifted her hoof off of Dire Strait’s neck and backed away.
Rocket Fuel checked over his shoulder, and had to glance again to see if his eyes were tricking him.
“Tell me that’s not who I think it is,” Rocket remarked, having checked his mirror.
“How did you get here?!” Lightning stammered.
Dire leapt to his hooves, backed against the rear wall of the ship. His silver armor clanged and creaked as he straightened himself out.
“I was supposed to be keeping tabs on her,” Dire said, glancing at Rainbow, “I was gonna surprise you earlier, but I…I got stuck.”
“That’s Equestria’s finest for ya. Defeated by a broom closet. Still wearing that polished suit of armor, huh soldier boy? Not a scratch on it, I see,” Rocket said from the pilot’s seat. 
“Ponies like you keep trying, but they always seem to miss,” Dire replied.
“There are no ponies like me, soldier boy,” Rocket spat, “You don’t have permission to be on my ship. The exit is to your left. I’m afraid it’s a long swim back to Messara. You might have to lose that armor, unless you’d prefer drowning. I would, if I looked like that.”
“All bark and no bite. Same as always,” Dire spat, “Lightning, what are you doing with him? And you, Miss Dash, why in Celestia’s name are you doing this? Spike commanded that-”
“I know what Spike said. But I have to do this,” Rainbow said, “You all know each other?”
“She and me…” Dire began.
“He and I, we…” Lightning said, glancing to the side.
Rainbow shook her head.
“Is there anybody on that island you haven’t dated?” she said, incredulously.
Lightning crossed her hind legs, embarrassed. 
“She’s a vicious little thing, isn’t she?” Rocket said, “Plays with hearts like a lyrist picks strings.”
Lightning glared at him. She turned to Dire, taking care to make sure Rocket could overhear her.
“Actually, I’m so glad to see you, Dire,” Lightning said, wrapping her forelegs around his shoulders, nuzzling under his chin, “Take that helmet off. I want to see your face.”
Dire was hesitant, but relented, unstrapping his helmet and setting it aside.
“I missed you,” Lightning whispered.
“I…missed you too,” Dire replied.
“That’s enough, I get it,” Rocket muttered, “I can still turn this ship around, Dusty.”
Lightning smirked and released Dire, stepping off toward Gump.
“Rainbow, I have to bring you back,” Dire said.
“How do you plan on doing that?” Rainbow asked, “We’re not going back. So you can either help us find our friends, or swim your way home.”
Dire shook his head in disbelief.
“This is madness. There are three of you, against an army? This is brazen, even for you, Lightning,” Dire said, “Not to mention this island you speak of is unnavigable.”
“For a lesser captain, maybe,” Rocket said.
“You require a ship to be a captain,” Dire pointed out.
“And what do you call this?” Rocket guffawed, glancing around.
“Certainly not a ship,” Dire said, “Our tomb, maybe.”
Dire’s horn came alive with blue light, aimed right for Rocket’s head.
“I’m under orders to bring her back to Messara.” Dire said, “Lightning, tell him to turn the ship around.”
Lightning hesitated, though Dire’s horn had begun to frighten her. 
“Rocket, you heard him,” Lightning said, “And I think he means it.”
“Mr. Gump, please tell Lightning to tell Sergeant Dire that the captain is extremely busy at the moment,” Rocket said.
Gump glanced at Lightning.
“The captain would like me to tell you to tell Sergeant Dire that-” Gump began.
“I’d be just as glad to put a hole through your head, if it pleases,” Dire warned.
Rocket meant to retort, before the distinct sound of metal against bone cut him off.
Dire fell to his knees, while Scootaloo stood behind him, triumphantly wielding a steel pipe.
“Scootaloo!” Rainbow exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”
“Are there any other stowaways I need to be aware of?” Rocket said.
Lightning knelt beside Dire, checking the bump on the back of his head.
“Nice swing, kid,” Lightning muttered. She turned to Rocket. “Why did you have to provoke him?”
“Because he’s easy to provoke,” Rocket said, “Sirius Circle is about an hour’s way. Get comfortable. And have your friend be ready with that pipe, if soldier boy gets an early break from his beauty sleep.”
Rainbow rushed to Scootaloo, snatching the pipe out of her hooves.
“I told you to-” Rainbow began.
“You disobeyed Spike, so I disobeyed you,” Scootaloo smiled.
Rainbow shut her eyes, realizing her hypocrisy.
“You do exactly as I say now,” Rainbow instructed.
“I’ll do exactly as you say,” Scootaloo confirmed, “Except when I have the better plan.”
Rainbow shook her head, and smiled.
Rainbow sat herself down on the floor against the wall, where Scootaloo promptly followed.
She watched Lightning sit herself near Dire. Lightning could hardly take her eyes off of him, even while he lay unconscious. Gump grumbled some curses under his breath and rested his legs near Rocket, who kept his attention on the sea below and the storm brewing in the distance. Rainbow shut her eyes, hoping to get some rest in after the exhaustion of the day.





Rainbow Dash awoke to a sudden jolt of the ship. 
Lightning and Gump were standing behind Rocket, who was gritting his teeth as a torrent of rain slammed against the windshield. The sky had darkened into a near pitch-black, and the ship’s headlights did little against the fog, that seemed to suck up all the light it touched.
Rainbow scurried up to her hooves, with Scootaloo at her side.
“Is this it?” Rainbow asked, terrified, “I thought you were only taking us near it, not into it!”
“It's a ways off, still!” Rocket yelled, “Lightning! Get the lifeboat ready, you’ll have to jump ship sooner than later!”
“Without you?” Lightning stammered.
“If I can drop you down and steer this ship out of here somehow, I can pull around to pick you up in open water. But I’ll have to land it!” Rocket said. 
Rocking by the black, the storms roared above and below as Rocket’s hooves began to slip off the steering. 
“How close are we to land?” Rainbow demanded.
“We’re close,” Rocket said, “Fuck! I can’t see a thing!” he yelled, “The wind’s gonna spin us into the sea! We’ll crash!”
“Bring it down!” Lightning advised, “Bring it down into the water!”
“The rocks!” Rocket yelled, “We’ll smash right into them!”
“If you’re as good of a captain as you say, we won’t,” Lightning said, grabbing his shoulder.
Rocket felt emboldened with the simple touch of her hoof, and he promptly reached for a series of buttons, switches, and a slow-pull lever.
Rainbow held her hoof around Scootaloo’s head. 
Gump cackled to himself nearby.
“What just deserts!” Gump grinned, “What joy that I may watch the wicked pegasus die!”
“Gump!,” Lightning yelled, “Not now!”
By the time Lightning caught sight of the blue water ahead of them, the ship had already smashed into the sea, sending all of them flying backwards.
The ship settled straight atop the water, while Rocket reached back for the steering. He flipped the switch to pull the ship’s wings in, and noticed the many flashing lights on his console, indicating the extent of the damage to the ship.
In the rear, Dire Strait lifted his head, slurring his words as he pulled himself out of his slumber. 
“What’s happened?” he muttered, “Did we land?”
“More or less,” Rocket replied.
The ship broke against the ruthless waves, crudely splintering forward at a wild speed. The sea had teeth of a cruel kind - jagged sharp rocks jutting out with the waves, pointing in every which way. Rocket had avoided them as best as he could, though their number was increasing the further he sailed. 
“This is it!” Rocket said, “The island! The island! This is where it should be!” 
“Then where is it?” Lightning demanded. She turned to Gump, “There is no island, is there?” “You made it all up. You just wanted us dead!”
Gump flashed his fangs.
“Scootaloo, don’t let go of me,” Rainbow said.
“We’re gonna hit the rocks!” Rocket yelled.
“There’s nothing here. There’s nothing!” Lightning exclaimed.
Then the greatest of the waves came hurling overhead, capsizing the ship in a heavy, heaving throw. Scootaloo was screaming, Gump was praying, Dire was trying to figure out what was happening. Rocket’s head smashed into the console with an audible crack, and Rainbow meant to unbuckle him from his chair, before she too lost balance, spinning upside down into the ceiling of the ship. Lightning fared not much better, and she heard the hull of the ship crack open against one of the rocks, tearing right through the frame. But before the black overcame her, Lightning’s eyes widened at a speck of shore, some dark beach biting through a hole in the fog.
Land.