> Shadowbolts: The Hunt for Twilight Sparkle > by Commando-Scarecrow > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Previously in Boast Busted... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Previously in Boast Busted… Shining Armor nodded. “Thank you, your Majesty.” Shining Armor, Captain of the royal guard, expressed his gratitude toward his nation’s regent, Princess Luna Equestris of the night. Only a few moments ago he found out that his little sister, Twilight Sparkle, his little Twilie, had made the biggest mistake of her life: using an illegal curse to mind-slave an ursa minor, ravaging a local town and causing thousands of bits in property damage. The princess would do little to stop the press from finding out. All she would do was delay it, but he could hardly blame her. She wasn't there to protect her subjects from their own stupid mistakes, after all. “There is no need, Shining Armor. I owe your family much, and you in particular as well.” Luna eyed Shining Armor. “But this also comes with an expectation. If your sister contacts you, you must inform the Shadow Bolts. I want your word as captain of my Royal Guard, and as a scion of the Starlight family.” Shining Armor nodded slightly. “I will,” he promised. Then his brotherly concern began to take hold. “What…what will you do with Twilight?” Luna grimaced. “That depends heavily on the circumstances surrounding her arrest. At the moment, I am willing to take her emotional state into account, and her contribution of banishing the Ursa Minor back to the Everfree. But there will be some form of punitive action, Captain, likely several years in prison, or at the very least under house arrest, either in Canterlot or Latigo.” The unicorn captain of the guard nodded again, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of his sister, of little Twilie, causing so much trouble. They used to be so close, but ever since she had set out on her journey through Equestria to learn as much about magic as possible, they'd begun to grow distant. Letters from her began coming less and less frequently, and of course Shining Armor – and indeed, his father and mother as well – had a difficult time ever contacting her due to her constantly being on the move in that caravan of hers… “You must have some leave time coming up,” Luna said, interrupting Shining Armor’s ruminations. “In fact, it doesn’t matter if you do. Take the next week off, captain. Go and see your family.” Shining Armor started to object, but the look in Luna’s eyes brooked no argument. Instead, he nodded. “Yes, you’re Majesty. I’ll do that.” “Very good,” Luna said. “I’m…I’m sorry, captain. I know how this feels, to have a sibling act in a way you didn’t think possible. But Twilight has done nothing unforgivable. If you speak to her at all, please, make sure she knows that.” Shining Armor nodded, as Luna gave him leave to depart her rather standard style. He did so stiffly, without even acknowledging the guards on the other side of the door as he did, letting his hooves fall almost mechanically to the floor as he made his way from the princess’s personal study. Twilie…Shining Armor thought. What have you done? > We Need a Team > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Princess Luna of the Night watched as the loyal and ever devoted captain of the royal guard left her private study, his mind still no doubt ringing from the hand of cards that his little sister whom he adored so much had been dealt. She shook her head in remorse. In any other world, Twilight Sparkle would have been the greatest unicorn of an era, maybe even the next. There may have even been a great and near unfathomable destiny awaiting her. But now? Now she was a renegade sorceress that could that could very well be a very great threat, even if the small filly herself hadn’t known it. Her first fear, of course, was the thought of her own sister, Corona, the Tyrant Sun, capturing her and forcing her into being an apprentice to counter Luna's own pupil, Trixie Lunamoon. She quickly sided on the thought, however. If there was anything that being thousands of years old had taught her, it was that there were a million shades of grey. And this Twilight didn’t seem so much evil as she was simply a mare that made some bad choices. And we're all guilty of that, I think. Then a very wry and slightly entertained smile appeared on the millennia old alicorn's countenance. "I trust you heard all of that, Director?" A pure white unicorn stallion with an expertly maintained blue mane and mustache, adorned in the attire of a well-dressed socialite and one of the best rapiers that bits could buy stepped from the shadows of the princess's private study, a fairly serious expression on his face as he always had on moments like these. "Yes, Madam. What were you intending to do concerning this young 'Twilight Sparkle'?" His name was Fancy Pants, deputy director of the Shadow Bolts, second only in its command structure to the princess herself. "Send an agent to follow Captain Shining Armor while on leave." She grimaced at the thought of doing such against one of the ponies she trusted above all others, but realized she had no choice in the matter. He may conduct his own search for her after all, and this Twilight Sparkle had to be held accountable, even if her own brother wasn't willing to be the one to do it. "But request a more experienced operative, one that won't be easily spotted. Alienating the captain will only prove to be counter-productive in these trying times." Director Fancy Pants nodded, knowing that even if the good captain would be wary about being tailed, and chances are thought he would be, making it so overt could shake others faith in him, and a shaky command structure was one of the last things that Equestria needed, what with the imminent return of Corona looming over head and all. "Will you be sending a separate cell to search for the young mare independently?" "That was my intention, yes..." She trailed off, curious at the question plied by her loyal right hoof. She sided the thought, though, as she pressed onward. "I believe that this may be the perfect first assignment for team of rookie Shadow Bolts fresh from their apprenticeships." "Madam?" A very confused look appeared on the veteran spy’s face, unsure of that request and why it was even posed. "Are you certain? A team of veteran Shadow Bolts might be more well suited against this newly found sorceress, especially one of her caliber, and should allow for a much faster apprehension." "I am sure, my friend," she sighed as she prepared herself for a more in depth response. She knew he would ask why and, since the 'bolts were his responsibility, he deserved an answer. "With Corona out there, we must not give this young Twilight Sparkle a reason to seek her out for protection and shelter. And I fear that sending a team of veteran agents might result in some less than satisfactory results." She took a breath, then continued. "However, an idealistic team might be more inclined to take her in peacefully, and perhaps earn her trust and friendship in doing so." The pure white stallion nodded in understanding, although he was far from satisfied with the reality of the situation. And while the princess of the night understood that, as her deputy director, it was his solemn duty to defend the light from within her shadows; Fancy Pants had to understand that he was still ultimately subservient to her whim, even if she didn't always execute that authority over him. "I understand. Whom were you planning on sending on this quest, Madam?" And then his royal mistress took on a Cheshire grin of royal proportions. "I had a few ideas in mind, Director." From within her fine mahogany desk, a series of folders appeared, each holding the files of the newest graduates from the Shadow Bolts nearly yearlong apprenticeship. "Madam?" He honestly didn't know that she kept those in there, and given the sheer volume of times he was in here discussing the 'bolts, that was an accomplishment. She finally looked at him in the eye as she used her violet-blue aura to levitate the first folder, and as he accepted, she relished the near priceless shock on his face. "Midnight Strike, Madam? Is she not a bit to-" "Green, Director? Most rookies are," she began looking through the next dossier as she began another explanation. "But she also knows Twilight Sparkle better than most, having been her upper-class-mare mentor in the academy." "But isn't she a might to close to this case personally?" She carefully noted the professional agents concern, glad to see that his years of experience had not been in vain. "Her connection to Twilight might end up clouding her judgment and-" "Which is exactly what I'm hoping for, Director. Only Shining Armor knows her better," She removed that folder from her right hoof's hold and relinquished unto him the second. "And a connection like that will be obligatory in bringing her home." Then she shot him a smile of hybridized cheer and antagonism. "Now will you help me finish this team roster, or will you just continue to complain about my decisions on this cell?" "Very well, Madam..." He finally gave his own wry grin as a result. "I did have one thought on that..." He began to use his magic to sift through all the manila folders and files, finally finding the one he had been searching for. "How would you feel about Des-" "No," stated the princess flatly. "Madam? Is there any reason why no-" "Because I. Don't. Like. Descent." It also seemed like she was trying to spell it out for him. "I'll grant you he IS effective, but I prefer not to leave the fate of Twilight in the hooves of somepony that would bring her in like any other criminal from Foalbokin... plus, he has no soul." Well, now the millennia old princess was just being childish. "Ahem, yes well..." as Fancy Pants cleared his throat out rather suspiciously, it became painfully obvious that he'd heard about that little fiasco in Los Pegasus a few months ago. "He may have gotten off to a bit of a rocky start, but if you would only hear me out..." She sighed with an air of resignation, knowing full well that, while Descent was, indeed, effective in the field, she simply didn't like him. "Very well, Fancy Pants." She folded her front hooves together, bracing herself. "Thrill me." "When we found Descent in one of the worst dregs of Equestrian society, and he was a challenge, true, but the skills he has adeptly forged in his life upon the streets has become boon to his work as an agent." His voice almost dripped with a subtle pride. "Just because breaking and entering worked for your wife when she unofficially joined the Shadow Bolts doesn't mean it would work the same for him, Fancy." "He is one of the most dutiful agents we have, Madam." Well, that part was true, at least. He never has failed a mission. "And getting empathy out of him is like squeezing water from stone... and not the kind of stones found in Aquastria, Director." Then she threw aside the she bore towards her friend and ally of many years and began to wear the trade-marked Luna Equestris smile. The one she only wore when she got a half-cocked idea and a twinkle in her eye. "But I will indulge your request for adding him to the team so long as you indulge mine..." "I'm listening... hesitantly," he knew he didn't have a choice, though, and that she was only being polite. The immortal alicorn could make him wear a pink and robins egg blue evening gown if she really wanted him to. She just didn't want to... most of the time. "The last team member of this roster, my choice," she pulled a single file from a hidden compartment within her desk. Under her service for 22 years and she still managed to surprise her right hoof. "Simply to appeal to my desire to see the mare returned home safely." An indigo enveloped aura floated to the middle-aged stallion. His eyes opened wider as he bared witnessed his royal mistresses choice. "Madam, I cannot disagree more fervently with this choice." The princess of the night lifted a single intrigued eye brow, having a feeling that the noble director wouldn't be terribly pleased, but still somewhat surprised that he made his feelings on her choice known so overtly. "And why is that, Director?" "Silver Wing, grandson to previous agent to hail from the House of Silver, Sir Silver Bolt. The stallion who mentored me," he paused to make sure that the princess was following this, then continued. "Obtained a bachelor’s degree in foreign languages, including Caballerian, Cavallion, Griffon and Crystal Imperial. Apprenticed to High Roller for two years. One of the best graduates of his generation..." "And he failed his first solo mission under pretenses he wished to keep private from most other operatives. I've read his file, Director," then she turned to see a face that spoke of a building storm of wrath. "Fancy?" "Princess, he deserted the bolts after his first assignment," he sighed wearily at the corner his out-burst had forced himself into. "I studied beneath his grandfather, Luna, and to see him leaving after a single, first failure..." Princess Luna finally saw through the facade of rage to see something else: disappointment. "To see somepony with as much potential as Silver Wing and to bear witness to how he could have been so much more than what he allowed himself to be. So much more than merely a lowly mercenary..." As his flaring temper weakened and his tirade was brought to an end, the princess began to muse something. If only for a moment, Princess Luna wondered what would happen if her own student, Trixie Lunamoon, rebelled against her for what she thought was right. Then she quickly sided the thought. That would never happen in a thousand ye-. Wait, she cut off her thought mid thought. She's rebelled for asinine reasons before and I'm still not convinced the Ice palace incident was a complete accident. Princess Luna sighed. Even with all of his experience working with them and their near essential need to exist as an occupation in many instances, the leader 0f the Shadow Bolts still held little more than sheer and unbridled disdain for mercenaries. He considered them lower than most precisely because of how they could choose conduct their business if they wished. If they left a contract, the worst thing that could happen to them personally was not getting paid, and as far as Deputy Director Fancy Pants was concerned, they were little more than thugs that lent out their skills to the highest bidder. This would explain exactly why he took Silver Wing’s desertion so personally, even if there had been extenuating circumstances surrounding them. "Fancy," because they were using first names now, apparently, "You know that New Maredrid wouldn't keep him down forever. Even if he only chooses to serve as a freelance agent, you know he would never turn his back on Equestria. Not permanently," she began pleading with her best friend, hoping he'll finally see the wisdom in her words. "In fact, he has taken it-" "It's not about New Maredrid, Princess." Luna allowed the rude interruption to pass. The director hardly had any time to himself since Corona's return, and he'd only barely been able to scrape enough resources and time together so that he'd be able to visit his daughter down in Ponyville. "But we should not be encouraging somepony with his potential to operate were we cannot see." Princess Luna could feel the pain drip from her closest friend's voice. "And here I thought that the Shadow Bolts saw everything..." The princess rang out sarcastically. It didn't even register. "The boy should be wearing the black and violet of a Shadow Bolt, not the badge of some oath less mercenary." Fancy Pants sighed, the recognition of defeat finally setting in. "I won't be able to deter you from this decision, will I, Princess?" "I'm afraid not, Director," she returned to her work by pressing the page with her royal seal. "And besides that, with everything that has been happening from within the Night Court of Me," she allowed the small joke its way as it aided in easing the tension between the princess and the director. "And with the return of Corona, perhaps we need more like Silver Wing." "I understand," And with one final sigh, Deputy Director Fancy Pants of the Shadow Bolts accepted his defeat and bowed his head to his princess, taking the three set of files and the document verifying the authorization of the mission out of her aura and within his. "I hope you know what you're doing, Madam." "Fancy?" The princess raised a concerned eyebrow at her oldest and closest friend." "Should your sister return in force with Twilight Sparkle at her sid, even unwillingly, there may be nothing in all of Equestria that could stop her." His voice dripped with fearful urgency. "Well then," she gave him a fox-like confident grin, as if she knew everything that would transpire within the next few weeks aleady. "We'll simply have to make sure that doesn't happen, now, won't we?" Finally resigning himself to the whim of his princess's wisdom, he gave her a small bow. "Of course, Luna. Would that be all?" "That would be all, Fancy Pants," and then almost as an afterthought she thought to add something else out of courteousness. "And please, enjoy your leave in Ponyville. Enjoy your time with your daughter. You've more than earned it-" she looked up to see that, in the instant she hadn't been paying attention, he'd left, simply disappeared like a cloud of black smoke at midnight. Princess Luna bristled as a large shiver of annoyance sped down her back. "I hate when he does that." > There was an Entrance. It was Rather Dynamic > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Ugh..." A silver-grey pegasus with a silver wing as a cutie mark whined as he bounced a ball back and forth from his office's plain vanilla colored wall, papers strewn random places, trying to keep his mind occupied in his small office located in the middle district of Canterlot. The state of his work space was actually kind of ironic, considering he'd only graduated from the Shadow Bolts about a year. Granted, he did leave after his first real mission gone awry. But something like New Maredrid has a tendency to do that to a pony. "I am sooo bored." He complained while swinging back and forth while in his black swivel chair. His voice had only the slightest hint of being from the south, as if he'd lived there years ago and still carried only the smallest shard of that previous life with him. His name was Silver Wing, and he was a freelancer. "I almost hope somepony walks through that door right now with a contract and gets me out of here and into something exciting and vaguely dangerous which turns into something very dangerous that will keep me occupied for the next few months were I can meet new ponies and save some other ponies..." He let out a small laugh as he realized just how weirdly specific that wish really was. "But it's not like somepony is just going to waltz through that door and offer a high paying assignment like that. I ain’t that lucky." And then, almost as some form of ironic providence, he heard the bell ring as the door to his service office was opened. And through it walked a light blue earth pony with a blonde mane of maybe 29 years. There was something very concise and proffesional about the way he carried himself. Not confidence, per Se, but an almost mechanically perfect stance, like it had been drilled into him a thousand times over. Obviously, he was a Shadow Bolt, or at the very least he worked for them. "Is this the Royal Silver Mercenary Head Quarters?" A small twinge of irritation crept up the silver stallion's spine. "No," he answered in a tranquil annoyance. "This is the Royal Silver Office of Freelancing Services." This is going to be fun, he thought to himself sarcastically. He'd always been adamant about the freelancer/mercenary terminology. "Watcha need, friend?" "Agent Washing Tub, Shadow Bolt representative/negotiator.” He extended his hoof to shake, which Silver accepted. “Her Royal Highness, Princess Luna, has an assignment for Sir Silver Wing, Baronet of the House of Silver," a manila folder was placed on the firm oak desk that Silver Wing was sitting at. Five points for me. He sighed once. He always did prefer to downplay that he was actually of noble birth. But then he did have that one ancestor that did some really awesome stuff a few generations ago. Actually? He was kind of proud of that. "You’re lookin’ at ‘im," he answered almost as if he was ignoring the fact that the stallion before him was a government agent. He grabbed the folder, leaning forward to show that he was now paying attention. "What's the mission?" "All the details are within that folder. But, suffice it to say, there is a rogue sorceress that needs to be apprehended. Class five." The agent’s voice remained stoic. For good reason, though. Most unicorns never made it to class three. But class five? Well, that's some pretty heavy stuff right there. "Let's see here... top in her class... graduated a year early... went on a very long road trip to learn as much as she could for the past few years..." He looked up to consider something. ”Does she have family? Or were you left in the dark for the integrity of the mission?” "I have been given several details concerning her in case there were any more questions you needed answered.” He sounded off with almost no emotion. “She's the daughter of Viceroy Night Light and the sister of Captain Shining Armor of the Royal Canterlot Guard." It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Classic Shadow Bolt training was what it was, though. Each and every agent had to learn a perfect poker face to be effective at some point. "And were they close?" "I believe so," a small wrinkle of curiosity appeared on the operatives face. "Why?" Silver Wing only shrugged. "Family's important." He placed the folder back on the table, knowing he would look back through it later. "So what's the price tag on bagging this 'Twilight Sparkle'?" "The princess is prepared to offer you twenty thousand bits for this mission." "Holy-!" He fell out of his seat as a response to that price tag. For the past four months, since he'd entered the 'private market', he'd been on dangerous missions, sure. But those were just acting as a fighter-for-hire jobs and some bounty hunting, like taking in low level scum from places like Maradice city and Foalbokin. None of them even got over nine thousand. But 20,000? The princess must have really, REALLY wanted this mare in the right hooves. "Are you kidding me?!" A blank stare did all the answering for the stallion, A smile crept upon Silver Wing's face, his crystal blue eyes' fox like twinkle being kept in check only by his signature goggles. Oh this is going to be fun. "And would that price be negotiable? For say..." he rubbed his chin as he looked upward. "Up to thirty-five thousand?" "I am allowed to go no higher than twenty-five thousand," he responded, sure of his haggling skills. We'll see about that. "How would you feel about thirty-five thousand?" "Twenty-five thousand." "Thirty-five." "Twenty-five." "Thirty-five." "Twenty-five" "Twenty-five thousand." He tried to switch it up on him. "Twenty-five thousand." He stared blandly and un-entertained at the silver maned stallion. It didn’t work. "Twenty-five thousand it is.” Not as fun as I thought. Ah well, he thought to himself. Win some lose some. It’s not like he even needed the money from this job, anyway, thanks to his family’s holdings on Mt. Kilimarejaro. Although technically they were his Grandfather’s... who happened to make Silver Wing his rightful heir. There were certain perks to being a noble. But still. 25,000 bits? That could buy a whole lotta cool stuff. "Glad that you can see reason," he placed the contract in his saddle bag. "You are to rendezvous with the rest of your cell members at 2:00 am sharp at this address." "Two o'clock, eh?" Silver gave the colt hiring him a half cocked and intrigued smile paired with an interested raised eye brow. "That should give me just enough time to set everything up for my new squad mates." A Cheshire grin appeared on his face as a wild eyed scheme began to ruminate within his skull. "Have my two accomplices been informed of this mission yet?" "I was going to inform them next." His eyes squinted at the silver stallion. "Why?" "I was hoping to maybe get the rendezvous to a predetermined place at a specific location at an address that I wouldn't mind-" he began to inelegantly beat around the proverbial bush. "Just spit it out." "You know that warehouse on Jade Street?" He understood now. He wanted to meet them there. "I'll see what I can do," The rather irritated representative’s eyes went narrow like a piece of fine thread at the self-exiled noble. "What are you planning?" Which the grey stallion just responded with a wave of his hoof. "Don't worry about it. Nothing that will leave any permanent damage." Then he extended his right hoof for a shake. "Alright, Secret Agent Colt, we here at the Royal Silver Freelancing Office humbly accept this mission and its guide lines to bring in this rogue wizardress, Twilight Sparkle. We appreciate your patronage." He gave a half smile only as a courtesy as he accepted the hoof-shake. "Good luck, Sir Silver." "Mister Silver," he corrected. "You'll need it." And then he left the office, happy to have this part of his day concluded with. As the greyish colt got out of his comfortable swivel chair, his mind raced with what he could do with that much cold, hard cash. And then he got up and looked around for some of his favorite supplies. "Now then," he announced to himself. "Time to break in my new best friends." ... Two Shadow Bolts, neither wearing the signature black and violet regalia of their clandestine organization, stepped from the shadows that the early Canterlot morning provided for them. On the left was a very dark grey, almost pitch black, pegasus mare, with a black mane accompanied by a single yellow streak going down the length of her hair and tail, bearing a thunder cloud cutie mark on her flank. On the right stood a grey stallion pegasus with a blue mane, yellow eyes and a solid boney wing in his flank. They approached each other cautiously, both realizing the standard protocol for introducing themselves to another Shadow Bolt they'd never met before. The mare spoke up first in a nomadic Romaneigh accent. "Initiate hoof-shake protocol. What is the pass code?" "Pass code." He sighed in annoyance. Princess Luna must have been feeling whimsical the other day. They shook hooves and the black mare opened up again. "I’m Midnight Strike. Research specialist and field medic. My friends call me Midna." "Descent. Tracking and infiltration.” He then offered his name, but nothing else. “I assume you’re here for the tracking mission of Twilight Sparkle, Ms. Strike?" the grey pegasus looked up at the warehouse with an almost dreary expression. "Let's get this thing moving." She was jilted by the rather cold response of her comrade, but shook it off easily enough. "So is this your first mission without a mentor, too?" They both made their way into their designated meeting place with their cell's third and final member. Not much was said about him except for his facility with languages and his combat skills. At least, nothing from the past year. And especially nothing on a mental evaluation at all. "It is," he answered halfheartedly "This Twilight Sparkle seems like she could be kind of a big deal," they walked through the large doorway and saw every manner and almost every size of crate. Some looked like they'd seen some damage and some looked like they were intentionally placed there to provide somepony with an excellent ambushing position. But in the middle of Canterlot? I swear I've seen this somewhere before. Maybe in a book? "Which is exactly why we were brought in, Ms. Strike," he answered flatly. Clearly, he wasn't here to make any friends at all. "To, and I quote, 'capture and apprehend the credible threat and the rogue mare, Twilight Sparkle, using any non-lethal means available and necessary to capture the mare in question.' If they expected any less work then Director Nightingale would have brought the Royal Guard in on this instead." "Kind of harsh..." she chided at her comrade. He turned to meet her in the eye. "You're not denying it." "They are soldiers, Descent. Their theater of service is an entirely different beast than espionage." He then moved on to another topic. “This is a trap." "I'm sorry?" "2:00 am in the morning. Wooden crates everywhere. Perfect for a sneak attack." He looked back at his partner. "We've obviously been set up." "Are you sure?" She couldn't help but disagree with her partner. "This seems more like an overly theatrical set up than a trap. It's two in the morning, true. But we're also at a warehouse. Only a fool would prepare so obvious of a rouse to kill us." "No... I've seen this before," the once nomadic mare couldn't help but think it had something to do with his back ground. Each Shadow Bolt was given at least some information on their partners past, while leaving out major personal details. For Descent, it had said something about his former life in a street gang. Midnight assumed that's where he'd seen it before. "It's so obvious. That's why it would work. Nopony expects the obvious." "But wouldn't he have needed some internal help to set this up?" She could see him processing what she was saying. "So wouldn't he or she have been told that all field agents would have had this type of thing drilled into them?" "You're... over thinking this." The grey colt shook his head and perked up his ears, indicating exactly how intently he was trying to pay attention. "Besides. Even if you were right, what kind of idiot would spend these kinds of resources on a simple 'theatrical stunt'?" He looked around the warehouse, hearing vague noises that sounded vaguely like wind barely brushing past a pair of wings and hooves that had only the most deft touch. "See that large tower of wood?" She couldn't open her mouth lest she burst into laughter. "Very mature, Ms. Strike," he turned to her as he said that, and then back to the pile of crates stacked upon one another. "It's the perfect location for a sniper with a crossbow. And this whole building is flawlessly planned for an ambush." There were scattered wooden crates everywhere, not just where he pointed out. “I'm telling you that this is just an act. Besides.” She argued back. She was placed in charge of this mission for a reason after all. “Weren't we supposed to have met a mercenary here to help us in our assignment?" That sudden realization hit the grey pegasus like a ton of bricks, then disappeared. His head suddenly jolted to the right. "Did you hear that?!" "Hear what?" She asked almost innocently. "Mr. Descent, surely you don't think-" then she shut her mouth as soon as she thought she saw movement. "Maybe you were right..." But the admission went unnoticed. In the shadows of the storehouse, the two pegasi stood at the ready, now very aware that they were not the only ponies here. Backs only meters apart, they both used their razor honed eye-sight to scan back and forth and to and fro what or whom it was that had decided to join them here in this private meeting. "Where are you..." A shadowy figure in a dark cloak then answered from right between the two royal agents. "Here." But before Descent could turn to meet the new challenger, he disappeared into air and shadow. “Or maybe here?” He appeared behind Midnight Strike now, moving out of sight but not out of mind just before she could see him. “But really…” they both turned their heads as they finally caught a glimpse of the pony that had somehow caught the drop on them. “I’m here!” From on high, he landed on atop the great tower of wooden crates with such force that it exploded into a thousand pieces, setting off a flurry of fireworks all around him in a glorious display of silver, blue, and orange flames. He threw off his black cloak in an overly dramatic fashion, revealing a silver stallion with a pair of goggles around his neck. He popped his hooves and flared his wings as if to show off his feathers. A voice with only the vaguest and slightest country twang rung out from amidst the majestic fires. “I hope you two packed your bags!” pause for dramatic effect. “’Cuz you’re about to get whooped all the way down to Maradise City!” The two Shadow Bolts looked at one another and realized something: it was going to be a long night. > Ow! My Everything! Or... Let's get this show on track! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “I’m here!” From on high, he landed on atop the great tower of wooden crates with such force that it exploded into a thousand pieces, setting off a flurry of fireworks all around him in a glorious display of silver, blue, and orange flames. He threw off his black cloak in an overly dramatic fashion, revealing a silver stallion with a pair of goggles around his neck. He popped his hooves and flared his wings as if to show off his feathers. A voice with only the vaguest and slightest country twang rang out from amidst the majestic fires. “I hope you two packed your bags!” pause for dramatic effect. “’Cuz you’re about to get whooped all the way down to Maradise City!” The two elite agents just stood there, ignoring the fireworks around them causing small fires around the entire warehouse. Descent decided to open up first. "The buck is with this guy?" Midnight, the near black mare, only smiled. "Hey, Descent," she started out sarcastically. "I think that's the assassin you were so excited about." "Shut up," he stated plainly. Obviously, he didn't take being wrong very well. "What do you think he's going to do next? Start a revolution with a guitar solo?" "Midnight," the grey stallion's voice rung out stoically. "Now is not the time." "Well, at least we know for certain that there is absolutely nothing this one can do to hurt us," Midnight stated, relieved that this stallion seemed to be little more than a glory hound of the same breed of her royal highness's personal apprentice, only with less flamboyancy and more theatrics. "Yeah," Descent's voice was still dripping with annoyance. "Only now, we have some idiot in a pair of stupid looking goggles keeping us from finding that mercenary we were supposed to-" "EAGLE KICK!" The silver stallion called his attack, flying like the wind and delivering a spiraling strike with one of his back hooves to the grey colt, sending him flying into a pile of crates. "Nopony, but NOPONY," his voice suddenly lowered, "Trash talks the goggles," then he looked to his left to see the mare with a yellow streak in her mane. "So how's it goin'?" "Um..." Concern for her partner was over shadowed by this new colt's rather... dynamic entrance. "Who are you and why did you just one-hit-wonder my partner?" A foxlike sparkle entered the goggled stallion's eyes. "Madam... I'm glad you asked!" He performed a flight assisted back flip to the top of the wooden tower and flared his wings. Stuck the landing, awesome. "I am the handsome devil of Mount Kilimarejaro!" Pause for dramatic effect. "Wily as a fox and twice as foxy!" And hooves on my hips, just like in the comic books. "I am- Oh jeez!" Maybe it was from moving to much on an unstable tower of ply-wood boxes, or maybe it was because Descent showed up and kicked it as hard as he could, but he lost his balance and he fell to the cool concrete floor of the warehouse, which, surprisingly, had not caught fire. But then, they were enchanted fire works, intended to keep from causing that kind of thing. I wonder why he didn't fly to keep from falling, the Romaneigh pony thought to herself. "Nopony gets the jump on me like that!" Descent said as he walked over the fallen crates. "Nopon-" Suddenly, a hoof grabbed his mane. "Wassup, Dude?" The handsome devil of Mount Kilimarejaro rose up from the pile of cheap lumber. "What was that you said about nopony getting the jump on you like that?" Descent's face was completely stoic. He had no idea who this lunatic was, but one thing was for sure. He was under arrest... and that didn't even sound threatening in his head. He lifted up an intrigued eye-brow "Your mane… it’s sticking up like that without any styling gel…" that was the weirdest insult descent had ever heard. "How?" The silver stallion never got to finish his sentence because Descent punched at him and missed. "Let go of my mane!" "No!" The goggled colt sounded like a little foal just then. "I said 'let'..." The grey Shadow Bolt reared his back right hoof back, then let loose a solid and flawless kick at his tormentor. "GO!" But the kick missed, or at least, it was deflected by the mystery stallion's silver wing. "Stop trying to hit me!" But Descent just wouldn't listen. He let loose strike after strike against the stallion that described himself as "wily as a fox and twice as foxy". Each strike was equally unsuccessful, hitting only air or hitting him with the approximate effectiveness of water off of a ducks back. His speed is incredible!, the grey colt thought to himself. He's like a flash! Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity! "Dude!" the silver stallion shouted. "Stay still!" He let out all of his anger in a single blow just as he finished. If it had made contact, then it would have surely done some damage to the mysterious silver colt, but instead, he missed and struck a large wooden crate... only to get his hoof stuck in the wooden box. The colt only looked at his shadowy counterpart struggled to get the crate to release him. "Um... you need any help with that?" Descent pulled back and forth, trying to get free, but to no avail. "I'm fine!" "You sure?" The theatrical pegasus asked him. "Because, current situation notwithstanding, it looks like you could use a lil' bit of help." "Shut up!" "It might have something to do with the fact that you've been fighting like an earth pony this whole time," Descent couldn't tell if he was just being taunted or being told a brutally honest truth. "Or a cow... are you sure you don't need any help?" "I said..." he began to build up all of his power to wrest free of the box tyrant. "Shut... UP!" And right as he said that, the first successful strike hit the silver stallion in the face. Right in the mouth. The goggled colt jumped back and touched his hoof to his maw that never seemed to close. He looked at it and saw blood. "Alright," the now offended colt said. "You want to play rough? Then let's play rough! Silver family style!" He took to the skies, his wings flared as far as they could go while airborne. The grey stallion switched to his own defensive style, a standard form of iron hoof, like a steel wall, it was meant to take full advantage of an earth pony’s strength. But, in Descent's experience as a former thief and burglar, it was also an ideal close quarter’s combat. "This right hoof of mine... it hungers for justice!" He unleashed one kick that caused Descent's defense to give. "It begs me to sate its appetite for retribution!" Another strike from his left hoof forced his wall of limbs to budge. That does not look good, Midnight thought to herself, choosing to wait until this fight was sorted out to intervene. "And must obey it!" The silver coated attacker rushed in prepared to tear down the last of any defense that his opponent brought up to oppose him. "So take this! My joy! My rage! AND ALL OF MY HOPES!" His right hoof began to glow with the lightning found within all pegasi as he flew at speeds only thought possible in legend. "SILVER, SHINING... HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOF!" The punch exploded on contact and sent Descent flying through several crates of plywood, not ending him but making him wish it had. All that either of the other pegasi could see was his large hair style and one of his wings sticking out of the wreckage. The victorious stallion panted heavily as he ran his hoof through his silver mane. "Yo tengo no igual!" He shouted in Caballerian. "I have no equal!" Then he saw it. Apparently, one of the fireworks he'd set off earlier hadn't been nearly as anti-fire charmed as he'd thought, for one of the pillars from on high began to come crashing down upon top of the pegasus mare. "Look out!" Like a lightning bolt wrought from pure silver, he instantly leapt into flight and pushed her out of the way of the great beams, but took the hit himself, laying there in a pile of various burning wood and metal. Then, everything went black. ... "Ow, my... everything," Silver Wing rung out, feeling a sharp pain in everything from his neck to all four of his hooves. The only things that didn't feel like they were shattered was his wings. "Am I dead?" He looked to his left to notice a mare fixing a set of bandages. “Because you look like an-OW, my ribs!” The pain of a warehouse trying to kill him cut off his cheesy line. He recognized where he was now. Not a hospital, but a motel room. He looked around and he also saw the stallion he the just defeated in mortal combat. "No," the smoky black mare answered for him, bearing a neutral expression in stark contrast to her comrade. "But it was close. Thank you for saving me." "Nah. It was my fault in the first place. Don't worry about it, Ms..." he trailed off, fishing for a name. "Midnight Strike, but please," she took on a slight smile. "My friends call me 'Midna'. And in that case…" She punched him in the arm. The one that he was pretty sure was cracked. “OW!” Oh, Come on! She continued to tighten the bandages around his ribs, one arm and one leg, like punching him wasn’t even an issue. "You got banged up pretty badly. You have four cracked ribs and, two cracked tibias, a cracked radius and a broken first phalange. Are you sure you're alright?" “Can I still fly?” He asked arrogantly. “Yes-“ “Then I’m good. Besides…” he took a moment to look over her hoofty work concerning the bandages. “I’ll be fine in a few days.” "So who are you?" The brown eyed mare asked. "You never actually said." Another foxlike look appeared on his face. "I'm glad you asked, Midna!" He raised his voice as if he were a DJ to a club or a concert. "I am the Baronet of the House of Silver! The Handsome Devil of Mount Kilimarejaro! The greatest fighter in Equestria since-OW!" That was his own stupid fault for shouting when he had at least a few cracked ribs. "Get on with it," Descent asked, completely deadpan and unconcerned with his injuries. "And why did I explode when you punched me?" Silver Wing just glared at him. "I'm Silver Wing. The freelancer that Princess Luna hired to help you guys with your 'Twilight Sparkle' case." Then smiled smugly. "And the art of pyrotechnic melee combat is a talent that has been passed down the Silver family for generations," he added on. "So he's the mercenary that her royal highness hired," Midnight chimed in. "I prefer the term 'freelancer', actually," Silver corrected, still feeling a dull pain in his side. Descent didn't even look at him. "Do we really need him? We could probably find at least a dozen other mercenaries in the lower districts of Canterlot." "Freelancer," Silver threw out, yet again. "Yes," Midnight agreed. "But the princess has no doubt already paid him in advance." "No, she didn't," Silver corrected yet again, not that they were really paying attention. "I don't take money upfront. Only after the mission's been done." He paused for a minute, realizing he had there attention now. "It's an honor thing." A merc with a code of honor. That's something you don't see every day. "But do really need him?" Then the grey stallion looked at the silver one. "Besides, look at him. He's in no condition for travel." "Sitting right here, guys..." Silver Wing actually took offense to that last one. "He does have the princess's royal seal of approval," Midnight threw out there. "But you are right..." she trailed off, knowing first hoof the extent of his injuries, "Nah, guys," he struggled to get up, making it to all fours. "I'm good. See?" He was struggling to keep his balance, but he still kept it up. "So what's the plan... and who are you guys?" "Well," Midna opened up first. "You already know my name. Midnight Strike. I am the designated leader of this operation. Field medic and research specialist." "Heh," Silver managed to keep his laughter to a chuckle, so as to keep more pain from shooting down his side. "Well, if it helps any, it looks like they undersold your medical skills on your file." He got a smile out of that. The minor noble then turned to her more... unhappy counterpart. "And you are?" "Descent," the other operative answered coldly, no doubt still bearing some kind of grudge against the colt that defeated him. "Tracking and infiltration." He nodded, understanding. "That's cool. I'm a combat and linguistic specialist." "Kind of a strange combination," Midnight replied. "Meh. Yeah," Silver admitted. "But I could say the same about this team." He paused for moment, no doubt trying to think of something clever to continue with. "I mean, we look even more ragtag than that one group that saved Equestria from Celestia a few months back." The dark mare sighed, not bothering to ask him about why he just called Corona by her pre-fallen name. At least not yet. "Look, you two," she opened up with, looking at her two team mates. ""We may not like it, but this is where we are. We need to find Twilight Sparkle and find as many leads as we can. Silver?" She looked at the noble freelancer. "Are you sure you're good to go." "Ha! Nope!" He bluntly stated boisterously. "But I'm still goin'!" "Fair enough," she switched back to talking to both of them again. "You two: go to the train station. Wait at tram 3. I'll gather some more medical supplies and we'll leave then. When I return in an hour and a half, we leave. Clear?" "Clear," Descent replied. "As crystal," Silver agreed. So the three left each others company, at least temporarily, to make their final preparations for their epic sojourn to track the renegade noble sorceress, Twilight Sparkle... Later at the train station... The minor noble hovered in spot, bandages covering two legs, his torso and his left arm and chewing on a toothpick. He'd gotten here thirty minutes ago, only a little bit after Descent, and neither of them had said anything to one another. That's when the banged up colt decided to break the awkward silence. "So... you like griff-ball?" "Shut up. We're not becoming friends," he very plainly stated. "Alright..." he stopped, trying to keep from talking. He failed. "So why does your hair stand up like that, anyway?" "I don't know. It just does," The grey operative shot drowned irritated, hoping and praying that this mission wouldn't last near as long as was projected. Where the buck is our fearless leader?! "Alright," they both looked across the tram to see their team lead show up, bearing a simple duffle bag of supplies, things like the standard violet and black of a Shadow Bolt, money and medical gear. "Everypony got everything they need?" Speak of the Sombra, Descent thought to himself, relieved that he wasn't alone with the mercenary any more. "I'm fine," he said, his head pointing to his saddle bags. "I'm rocked and ready," Silver Wing agreed, slinging his own bag over his shoulder, forgetting entirely that he had several cracked ribs. He held back the pain, though. "So are gone yet?" "Hold on. There was something I wanted to say first," she looked around, making sure nopony was within year shot of their conversation. And, as luck would have it, nopony was. She sighed and began to speak again. "Everypony? I have no idea what I'm doing." "Nice start," Silver muttered, smirking. Ignoring that, she moved onward. "This is my first mission without a commanding operative, let alone with me leading a team. Now I know the both of you have two very different things riding on this. Money," she glanced at Silver. "Or duty," she turned to Descent. "But right now, there's a very dear old friend of mine that's lost out there," she looked down, remembering what another old friend told her only a few hours ago before he left. "And she has a family that couldn't be in more dire straights if it tried. Now I'm not saying it will be easy. "There's bound to mountains we'll have to climb," her exotic accent rung out in determination. "Rivers we'll have to cross. "Enemies we'll have to face. "And paths that we must forge, despite the near insurmountable odds. But for Ms. Twilight Sparkle? Nay, for ANY Equestrian," she stomped her hoof on the ground. "That is our solemn duty. Our oath. And our legacy. "So hold your heads, Gentlecolts!" she flashed a defiant grin. "Because the Viceroy of Latigo is preparing a welcome home party for his little girl! And it's up to us to pick up the guest of honor!" the tickets and, with a confident smile reflecting the afternoon sunlight, began to enter the train to Ponyville. There was a dead silence for a moment, then Descent opened up. "Wasn't that a bit much? I mean, we're going to capture a spoiled unicorn noble, not storm a dragon fort." "Nah, Dude," Silver began in his defense of their leader. "That was wicked cool. Like it was from a movie or something." Descent stared at his more cheery counterpart. "You would say that, wouldn't you?" Midnight rolled her eyes sarcastically. "Well, everypony? What are you waiting for? Let's get this show on track!" And so they boarded the train, unsure of what the future might hold but confident they could tackle anything in their way. But, if Midnight Strike's speech had anything to say about it, it would take all of their strength, skill, and cunning to bring Twilight Sparkle back home... if they had to do it kicking and screaming. > The Greatest Stallion He Never Knew > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The other day... She walked through the café door in the middle-upper district of Canterlot. Donut Joe's Joe'n Donuts. She remembered the directions easily enough. It would have been weird if she didn't, seeing as how it was where she did typically go for breakfast. One thing they didn't have much on the caravan, Midnight began to muse, was jelly filled goodness. That's when she saw him, her contact: a pure white stallion in a brown fedora, long coat and sunglasses... in a café. Midna had a mental face hoof.Everypony thinks they're in a movie. It wasn't really that busy, although it was still midmorning. As Midnight walked to the table where the esteemed officer sat with his coffee, the scent of powdered sugar and hazelnut assailed her senses. Even as often as she came here, it was still a very welcome sensation She walked up to the table, opening up first. "Shining." "Midnight," he responded stoically. "It's good to see you. Although-" "You wish it were under better circumstances?" She smiled. "You'd be surprised at how often I hear that in my line of work." She looked at him. "Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?" "I am," he retorted coldly. She could see the faint trace of stuble on his face and the bags under his eyes. It was painfully obvious that he hadn't slept well that last couple of days. "I am sorry, Shining," Midnight offered. "I should've never let her go on that stupid trip, Midna," the captain of the guard began to vent. "I could've stopped her and now-" "Shining, stop," the brown eyed mare interrupted, knowing full well where his line of thought was headed. "You and I both know that you couldn't have stopped her even if you tried. And I'm the one who gave her the idea in the first place." "Yeah, but..." he tried to disagree, but knew he couldn't. "Yeah." "As always, you're a regular poet with your words, Captain Equestia," she playfully snarked, earning a smile from the beleaguering officer. "So how's everypony been doing since I left?" "Prince Blueblood is still..." he began to perk up as she got them talking about their old circle of friends. "Blueblood?" She guessed, knowing that, out of all of their friends, the 'honorable' Prince Blueblood was the least likely to change. "Yeah. Blueblood is still Blueblood," he answered back, staring at his coffee. They both knew that the overly ambitious and pompous plot wasn't likely to change in the near future. They never ceased making fun of him for it. "I guess that's fifty bits I owe Vinyl," she joked, remembering a bet she'd made with one of her friends, just before the DJ skipped town. "Guess so," he agreed, even letting a little chuckle out, although it hardly masked how he was really feeling. "Thanks for taking this mission, Midnight. It means a lot to me." "You're welcome," time to get down to business, she thought. "Do you have the information?" "Yeah," he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his coat. It looked like there were water marks on it, but Midnight decided not to call attention to it. She didn't want to make her old friend feel any weaker than he already did. "It's not much, but it should point you in the right direction once you get more to work with." So Midna opened the letter and read. She recognized it as Twilight's scribe, but just barely, like she was either tired when she wrote it or just... off. Dear, BBBFF Things didn't go as planned in Ponyville. Everything went badly. VERY VERY BADLY. Trixie Lulamoon, a fraud. Fake. Words not comfortable using this letter to you. No idea what to do next. I'll think of something. Don't worry. Everything will be just fine. Just fine. Always think of something. Love, Twilie "She had a teacher up north she was close with. If worst comes to worst, she may end up heading there," he began to explain. "I'm sorry I can't do much more." "If there's wasn't any information in the letter," Midnight started to ask, fighting a lump in her throat. "Why show it to me?" "Your the secret agent," he replied. "You tell me." "Well," Midnight replied, trying to fight back a tear. She knew exactly why he did that. "Let it never be said that the great 'Captain Equestria' doesn't know how to rally his troops," she rang out in a sense of depressed sarcasm. Her brown eyes still struggled not to get saturated with water. "Well, you're right, Shining. It's not much, but it's more than I had a minute ago." "She always looked up to you, you know?" He really wasn't making this any easier on her. "You were there for her in ways I never could be." "Please, Shining," she tried to deflect the compliment. "I kept her out of trouble for a year and then I left. You make it sound as if she thought of me more like a sister than a foal-sitter." The look in Shining's eyes said it all. "Oh." "I'm glad Princess Luna assigned you to this, but please," in all the years since she'd first met Shining Armor, from their first introduction to that brief stint as a couple, she never heard or seen sound so defeated. "Bring back my sister." "I'll bring her back, Shining," she swore. "I promise." "Thank you," he smiled warmly at that, knowing his sister's homecoming was in capable hooves. "Well, Agent Strike?" he extended his right hoof to shake, which she accepted. "Good luck." "Thank you, Captain Armor," she smiled. "Have fun with Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. You two make such a cute couple." "Midnight..." he thought for a moment. "I was her personal escort for a while. That doesn't mean anything." "Right," she began to chuckle. " Well, at any rate, it's nice to see you getting back out there again. I mean, ever since I broke your heart..." "We agreed it was mutual," the captain retorted. "Mutual meaning that I broke your heart," after what he just put her through emotionally, she was going to get pay back. He sighed, the exhaustion and his ex causing his patience to grow more thin by the moment. "She's not my girlfriend, Midna. I'm still single and loving it." "Yeah," Midnight laughed it off. "We'll see how long that lasts." And suddenly, all emotion left the illustrious good captian's voice and face. "Get out of here, Midnight." And so she left, knowing exactly what was at- ... "Bit for your thoughts?" Her day dreaming interrupted, she looked up to see the bandaged head with goggles on his forehead, as opposed to the neck like when she'd met him, of the minor noble. "This seat taken?" He asked while flying in place, knowing walking would be a painful recourse. "Um, no. Not at all," she answered, getting her mind back in the here and now. "Go ahead." "Thanks." He took a seat across from her, looking out the window briefly, then back to her, his arm still in that cast she placed it in. "So what's on your mind?" "Just thinking about..." "Twilight Sparkle?" he guessed right. "Yes," she looked down. Did I really make it that obvious? "Yeah," he went back to looking out the window. "It sucks losing friends, doesn't it?" He asked that like he actually had an idea of how she felt. Like he could actually relate. "Yes," she agreed half-heartedly. "It does." "So what was it like?" He vaguely asked like she could read his mind for what he meant. "Living on the road, I mean." "It was interesting," she asked in her trade-marked Romaneigh accent. "Different..." she had to search for the right word. "Beings, from ponies to cows and griffins, living in a single, moving town." She looked down, fondly remembering her childhood. "It was always a challenge getting enough food, though. We all had to learn a trait if we wanted to belong." She shrugged, "My father always had saying," Silver, with his love of sayings, suddenly perked up his ears. "He'd say, 'Midnight, I love you, but if you don't work then you don't eat'." "That's it?" he sounded disappointed. "What do you mean 'that's it'?" she asked back. "Well, I just expected a something a little more..." he now began to search for the right words. "Intrinsic and... Romanigh...-ic." That last word was not one of them. "Oh really?" She raised an eyebrow, taking a bit of offense to what he just said. "Well then, Star Swirl, let's here your story." "What's to tell?" he waved his good arm. "I'm the ex-Shadow Bolt grandson of the late and great Baronet Silver Bolt. In a self-imposed exile from the Night Court of Luna and working as a freelancer. Helping our princess bring justice to a corrupt world. Yes," he sighed, then continued. "Mine is truly a tormented existence, filled with torment. A single, white knight alone, fighting injustice in an unjust nation-" "You really are full of it," she laughed a little bit, actually grateful that this merc-no, this freelancer had come to talk to her and take her mind off of Twilight. "You are aware of that, aren't you?" He hoofed his nose, smiling the whole time. "You shouldn't expect anything less." "Yeah," she agreed. "So what were you doing here? Really, I mean." "Descent kicked me out for figuring out his first name," he plainly stated. "It's Pyhric, by the way." "Pyhric?" She recognized that word. It meant to win a battle so costly, the victory was practically for nothing. And when combined with his last name... "Wow. That's... actually very depressing." "But not really surprising," he added. "So when do you think the train is going to Sto-" "Everypony off the train for Ponyville," they both heard a train worker shout out as is by chance. "Off the train for Ponyville!" "Huh... speak of the Sombra," the young noble responded. "Well, Ms. Strike?" He took on a more arrogant and stereotypical aristocratic voice. "Shall we away?" She rolled her eyes at him as they left the train, finally on their first real stop in their quest for her old friend, Twilight Sparkle. Speaking of which. "So do you know anypony personally in Ponyville, Silver?" He game a friendly smile. "Sure do. She's a good friend of mine. One of the only friends she had, last time I saw her, although that was before the whole Celestia-coming-back-from-the-sun thing happened." He looked back at her, "I heard she's actually gotten a lot better at keeping them. Friends, I mean." "Oh really?" She raised an intrigued eye-brow, obviously thinking it was some kind of romantic entanglement. "Nah, not like that, Midna," he began to explain. "I'm just one of the only ponies she managed not to hack off to the point of completely avoiding her before she got sent here as a promotion. Heard she's made a half-decent splash here, too." "Well, what's her name?" Asked Descent, seemingly coming out of nowhere. "Her name is Trixie..." ... "Lulamoon!" He shouted as he finished greeting his old friend by name. In her rather lavished but cozy small-town home, he bear hugged her with his one good arm. "Silver?!" She didn't see it coming. "What the heck-how did you even get in here?! The door was locked!" He hoofed his nose at her. "The fine art of breaking-and-entering is a talent passed down the Silver family for generations." He took a good look around, noticing a couple of empty bourbon bottles that she probably forgot to throw away over the last few days. "So how you been doin', Lulamoon? Saving the country? That's cool." Her voice went from shock straight to irritation. "Don't call me that." "Call you what? Lulamoon?" He was doing this on purpose. "Why not? It's your name, ain't it? And besides, it has such much nicer ring to it than just 'Trixie'." "Stop it," she said flatly. "In fact," he began to muse. "I think I fancy a round of 'skip to my Lulamoon' later on, should it tickles my fancy." She just stared blankly at him. Him, the only pony in all of Canterlot that decided to stay friends with her. Her idiot best friend from days gone by. But really, it was kind of nice to see him again. He had been the only noble, no, one of the only ponies period that she just couldn't shake, regardless of the several times she tried, death threats included. I guess, when it came right down, he was one of the best friends I ever had. Then she thought about that for a second. Wow, I'm glad I've made a lot more of those since then.Wow, I'm glad I've made a lot more of those since then. "Why are you here?" "Princess Luna!" His eyes began to beam with pride. "She personally hired me to investigate what happened to Ms. Twilight Sparkle." "I don't believe you," she disagreed blandly. "Why not?" He asked indignantly. "Why would Princess Luna, my teacher, send you on alone to investigate what happened to Twilight?" Then she began to lay out actual reasons. "You, the biggest ham and ego-maniac this side of Los Pegasus?" "Heh, you know?" Silver began to counter. "You could almost taste the hypocracy in the air, maybe even serve it on a sandwich with a side of soup." Then he thought for a moment. "Say, you got any soup, Trix? Maybe of the potatoes and cheese persuasion?" He trailed off. "Oh, and I'm not alone. The other two just are off investigating other places." She sighed. "Alright, I'll tell you what you want if you leave." He slowly sat down on her couch, minding the bruises and the cracked bones. "Alright, Lulamoon." He smiled. "Thrill me." "Well, it was a day like any other," she began. "I was just finishing up a show and then Twilight Sparkle shows up from the audience and tells me what I'm doing isn't real magic." "Kind'a rude. Go on." "Right? Anyway," she continued. "We met back stage and-" "Things got saucy?" Silver smirked. Her eyes narrowed. It brought up lot of awkward memories when he tried to set her up with somepony. Oh wait, that's why I didn't miss him. "I hate you. With all of my hate, Silver." She picked up from where she was interrupted. "So as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, she talked to me about how I was wasting my talents. And, under no fault of my own, she vengefully and maliciously decided to-" "Trixie..." A grey coated and silver maned bemoaned her from the nearby stare case. Silver waited for a second to say anything, then took on his signature fox-like grin that Trixie may very well had learned under him. Or maybe the other way around? They'd known each other for so long, that it had become genuinely difficult to remember who learned what mannerisms from whom. "So who's your boyfriend?" "Wait, what?" The grey unicorn asked. "Pokey's my assistant, Silver," she explained, agitation creeping into her voice. "Ah. So you hooked things up with your assistant," his gaze turned to Poney, looking him over. "Not bad, but..." "That's not what I said at all!" She shouted indignantly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Trix," he began to patronize. "I here a lot of that kind'a thing happens in Canterlot. I won't think any less of you for it." She shot him a death glare. "Hey, Silver? The arm in that splint wouldn't happen to be broken, would it?" "Oh, yeah," he looked down at his tarnished silver coat, littered with bruises and with a banged up arm. "Happened last night when a warehouse tried to kill me. It lost. Why do-OW!" The light blue mare reared back her arm after punching her old friends injured limb. After checking his arm to make sure it was alright, he looked back to Pokey. "So who are you, anyway?" "My name is Pokey Pierce, official assistant and secretary to Representative Trixie Lulamoon," he said proudly. "And I think you'll find soon enough that I prefer to stab through all of the beurocratic work to get the job done. And you must be the private investigator the princess sent to investigate what happened the other day." He then turned to his employer. "I left that file on your desk yesterday. Or were out with Monsieur Bourbon again?" "I will neither confirm nor deny that," she looked away. "Anyway," he turned back to the pegasus. "I'm glad that somepony has finally showed up to pierce through the fog and into the heart of this mystery." That's when Silver noticed Lulamoon roll her eyes. "You know, Pokey, I gotta say, you seem to be a cut above the rest of most of all the other secretaries I've ever met," Pokey Pierce took on a rather robust smile as Silver placed his good arm on his shoulder. "I'd say that this one has a point about how great the princess was to send me on this mission." Trixie moaned in her misery. "Oh, stars. It's like idiot in stereo." "You know?" Pokey began to reply. "I wasn't really sure what I thought about you when I first saw you a few minutes ago, but I gotta say, your personality is positively sterling. In fact, you seem like a shining example of the kind of pony the Princess should send." "And you too, Pokey, seem to be a cut above the re-" "KNOCK IT OFF!" Trixie shouted, tired of the veritable tornado of puns that she's placed right in the middle of. They both stared at her, apparently defeated by the Night Court representative's abrasive shout. Apparently, while dealing with Pokey on a regular basis was a task easily enough accomplished, having to deal with both her assistant and the unholy amalgam of him and, though she hated to admit it, herself at the same time was almost enough to make her want to betray everything she'd ever learned about friendship... ever. Silver just shrugged it off. "Well, it's not like it matters anyway," he began again, nonchalantly. "I mean, I've read the reports on what happened already. From the damage to town to the ursa teleporting." "Everything?" Representative Lulamoon asked, fishing for a sign that her didn't know as much as he thought. "Well, yeah," he answered. "I mean, she showed up in Ponyville and, after meeting you, she obviously wanted to either test you or impress you, thus came the ill-conceived plot of her going to mind-slave an ursa minor. Thing is, she never really showed any inclination to this kind of outburst before she came here," His face became more serious. "Trixie, what did you do?" He asked calmly, like joking time was over. "You think that I was the reason she-" his face of stone was unyielding. "But why would you think that it was-" it was piercing through her, the gaze of the one pony that still wanted something to do with her Canterlot. "Fine. Yes, It was my fault. She disrupted my show and said what I was doing wasn't real magic, so I made her look like a tribalist." She looked down somberly for a split second. "Long story short, it's my fault that she's on the run like she is." "Alright," Silver simply responded making his way to her library, like she said nothing important. "'Alright'?" She parroted, irritated at how she just made herself all emotionally vulnerable to just hear him say 'alright'. "Yeah, I mean I did READ the report, Trixie," he explained. "I KNOW what happened. Heck, my team mates are scowering the town for clues right now." He smiled warmly from the bookshelf. "I just wanted to see how much you've learned since you got here." He turned back to her. "It's nice to see you've grown a conscience, Lulamoon." "I...you... ugh" she only sighed, not knowing what to do. Finally, words came. "I hate when you pull that 'Starswirl the Bearded' stuff on me." He continued to search for books with Twilight's style of writing. "Well, as Grandaddy Bolt once said, 'If I claim to be a wise-colt, it surely means that I don't know'." He then took on a curious look on his face. "You ARE going to return these books back once we bring her home, right?" "Um... yes?" She inquired. "Why do say that like a question?" "Because?" She inquired yet again. He only smiled as he continued his search through the rather extensive library, no small feat considering he only one good arm and he mostly needed his wings to get around. "You haven't changed." Deep down, though, he knew that she had. She was still the off-blue, obnoxiously ambitious bag of snark he'd known for years, but now there was something else there, too. Not contentment, though. It was something more subtle. Belonging? "Whatever," she shot. "Just find out what you need and get out. It's starting to smell like a philosophy in here." And as he got to his job of bringing the rogue mare back home, he couldn't really help but wonder what his companions were doing and where they went. Then he shrugged it off, knowing that he had his own job to do. Then, as the silvery coated colt continued to one-arm a library, Pokey Pierce felt himself swelling up with a new sense of hero worship "There goes the greatest stallion I never knew." Trixie just glared at him, not really caring that her face may very well freeze like that at this point. "Shut up, Pokey." > Ponyville is Weird > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- He heard a scream and several shouts. He heard the rolling of a cart filled with cabbages. They didn't hear Descent moving like a flash of grey lightning going to intercept. A grey stallion dashed before two small fillies, whisking them off to safety to safety before the inevitable crash of a cabbage cart struck an empty table outside a bakery. Close, he thought to himself, satisfied of what he'd just done and mildly annoyed about the guy crying about his cabbages in the background. The blue maned operative then let down the two small foals in arms. "Are you two alright?" He asked as they both released their grip on his admittedly long mane, concern creeping into his voice just enough to tell. "Well, you could have been just a bit faster, you know!" The one on the left shouted ungratefully. His sigh in relief was then replaced by a feeling of irritation at the mouthy one, though he was still pleased they weren't hurt. Although they could have maybe been more careful themselves. That was when he noticed what they had both looked like. The one on the left was a small earth pony, her coat pink and off mauve mane, her cutie mark a tiara. But it wasn't her that caught his attention, not by a long shot. The one that grabbed his attention was the filly on the right; a just as small foal with a silver coat and a lighter silver mane, her hair braided and wearing a string of pearls around her tiny neck. He wasn't quite sure, but that smug smirk on her face and her eye-wear made him feel like punching something. They both took off, but before they were out of ear shot, the small silver one rushed back to him. "Thank you, Sir," she expressed, hugging the covert agent, then rushing off to join her more snide friend. Descent smiled ever so slightly at that, feeling something similar to joy for the first time in a few days. "It's fine, now go," so they both ran off into the horizon of the town. "And stay out of the streets!" He turned his back, remembering he had a job to do here. "Stupid kids are going to get themselves killed." He sighed, finally taking in the sights as only an outsider could. As he walked through the small town of Ponyville, he found himself enjoying his new surroundings more and more. In fact, compared to all the way back to the bad side of Manehatten, where he'd grown up, this town seemed almost akin to a kind of paradise. Granted, having to steal just to get ahead growing up would give near anypony that kind of outlook on life and he knew that, but still, he did have to admit that the scenery was something special. All in all, he was actually happy where he was at the moment. While he did still have to ultimately answer to Midnight Strike, who probably had less field experience than him, all thing considered, he still pleased to be away from his old mentor, Nightingale. He didn't have to listen to her constant moaning about his lack of empathy or how it was going to come back and bite him eventually. He simply had more operational freedom, which was exactly how he preferred it. He continued to move unnoticed, as was his special skill, and continued to note the various locals of import. He noticed a pink pony on a sugar high. Avoiding her, he thought to himself, now more than happy that his special talent was moving unnoticed. He also noticed a pure white unicorn mare with a purple mane, although noticed would be underselling it, but even still, he kept moving. The town was colorful as well, the walls being coated with all manner of pink, yellow, blue and the shades and tints there of. Again, a very stark contrast to his once home in Manehatten. To Pyrrhic Descent, it had almost felt like he'd fallen into a comic strip meant for small children, but he dismissed that thought due to the sheer absurdity of it. He was a secret agent, after all, so the odds of him being in a small fillies source for entertainment were far from slim and much closer to none. As he mused thoughts that hardly mattered, he continues making his way to his own self appointed destination: Sweet Apple Acres, this region's branch of the Apple Trust. Despite the vice grip the Apple trust was rumored to have on the town, he had to admit that most of the rumors seemed to be proved false, granted, that opinion came from years learning not to trust anypony making more money than he did, but it was a philosophy that had served him well during his young life. As the spring sun continued to beat down on his grey back, he actually took a little bit of joy knowing where he'd start his part of the investigation. While the mercenary went to go speak with this towns representative and Midnight went to go examine the carriage that Twilight Sparkle used in her cross-country road trip, Descent was presented with the distinct pleasure of sneaking onto an Apple Trust orchard and not getting caught. A wry smile took his face. "Just like back in Manehatten." After several long and fairly hot minutes of walking, the the blue maned shadowbolt finally made it to the white picket gates of the conglomerate's orchard. The sweet and sour scent of the apples invaded Descent's nose as he took a good long look at what was in front of him. There were trees, lots of them. In fact, he was fairly certain that may have been all they grew here. He'd heard about a small fiasco that happened just before Corona came back about this town's rep not wanting the Trust to do the catering, and at the very least, he could agree with not wanting to eat nothing but apples all night. He didn't even really like apples in the first place. So he took a deep breath and, while scouting from a safe and secluded distance just outside the farm and ventured forth, ensuring that the three earth ponies, the peach filly, the golden rod young mare and the old green one, living there wouldn't be able to see him. Like a grey ghost, he moved between each building with stealth that was no less than eerie as the darkest eclipse, sticking to the shadows of each barn he hid behind and ensuring that he left no shadow trailing behind him. Alright, he began to plan in his head. This is a branch of the Trust, so it's more than likely to have some kind of damage report detailing the ursa attack on the estate for insurance purposes. As he confirmed his theories to himself, he looked left once, then right, then behind himself and flew up to the room on the dark side of the big, red house with all the stealth expected of an expert burglar. Years ago, his heart rate would have been out of control, but the years of training had taken away everything but the thrill of breaking into never before seen homes and places. His hoof steps deft like a mouse, he briefly inquired himself as to exactly why he chose to break into their home instead of simply asking for the information and receiving it like the law dictated. He simply chalked it up to old habits and maneuvered unseen and unheard through the Apple's home. As he checked room each room for anything indicating an office, he took notice that, save for the fruity smell he was somewhat adverse to, it was actually a fairly normal home, lacking almost any of the frills he would have expected from a well-off family this close to Canterlot. Disregarding that last thought, he finally found a room with the inherent equipment found in an office for a farming business. The wall paper was green and the bed dressings were a faded red, like the blankets had been used by the family for generations. As he slowly walked in to take a better look, he took notice to two stark contrasts. The floor was strewn with papers and, upon further inspection, he'd seen that these were the insurance papers and damages he was looking for. Then he took a look at the contrasting things on the east wall. They were photos of a small filly, ranging from age nine to age sixteen, all with a smile beaming pride on her face and with some kind of medal, going from bronze, blue and red. The filly in question actually seemed fairly happy, then he looked down at the numerous papers scattered across the floor of the room and began to wonder for a moment what happened. "Huh," he began asking himself quietly, now just a little bit sad, feeling a sort of camaraderie with the blonde maned and green eyed mare. "I guess I'm not the only one who had to grow up fast." He finished looking through the documents and came to the conclusion, based on the damages, that the ursa came from the north-west part of the ever-free forest. This will make that thing a lot easier to find, he admitted to himself. Finally, gratified with himself and a little saddened as well, he turned around, prepared to leave this farm and go do some preliminary scouting out in a star forsaken forest... Only to see a giant wall of scarlet muscle standing in his path. Darn it, he thought to himself. I miss-counted. I hate that. The operative's blood began to flow faster, this kind of situation being all to familiar to the young shadowbolt. In his days as a thief, as much as he hated to admit, he'd run into his fair share of people catching him and having to fight his way out of a situation. He prepared his fighting stance, a cross between boxing and iron hoof, and steeled himself for any attack the massive crimson stallion had to throw at- "Howdy," the strawberry maned earth pony uttered, his voice extremely deep. Descent stalled, the greeting entirely catching him off guard and now was caught lowering his own. "Um... hello?" He just stood there, like he was waiting for an explanation. Sweat began to drip from the grey operatives brow. This had actually never happened to him before. Any time he did get caught, he was attacked almost immediately thereafter, and he hadn't gotten caught since before his shadowbolt training over two years ago. Feeling himself start become slightly ripe from the surprise, he cleared his throat. This guy seemed smarty than he looked. Lets test that theory. "Yes, I'm with the Equestrian Bureau of Wildlife Relocation. I'm here investigating the ursa attack from the other day." "A member of the EBWR?" He asked. "Yes." "In my home?" "Yes," he parroted. "Shadowbolt?" "Ye-," he caught himself, but it was to late. The most he could accomplish now was damage control. "Uh..." Descent's first thought was wondering how the master of the estate knew that. "How do you know that?" "Figured the princess would send'a team 'ere to check out what happened," his southern drawl was almost invasive from how deep it was. "Though y'all could'a just asked." "I'm... sorry?" No he wasn't. "Everfree'll be that way," he pointed with his right hoof to the northwest side of the room. "Thanks," the agent responded, still finding himself some what jarred by what had just happened. "It's nothin'," he offered. "Careful 'bout 'em cockatie, though." "I'll remember that," he lied as he began to leave the house through the same route he took to enter it. "Thanks again." Leaving Sweet Apple Acres, the young shadowbolt took a moment to reflect on what just happened here. Before he left Sweet Apple Acres, he mumbled one last thing to himself. "This town is weird." ... Her eyelids fluttered as she slept, sleeping peacefully in the hired helps hide-away, grateful that his furniture was at least comfortable, although that was not where she was; not really. Where she really was was back home, years ago, just after her one year in Canterlot, and outside, in the middle a valley strewn with wild fruit trees, the environment peaceful enough to lull a rampaging foal to sleep in an instant. She heard shouting and that's when she began to recognize the day this was. The place began to change, though at the same time maintaining a foggy habitat, certain details, like the patterns of different wagons, being difficult to discern from lack of focus or caring at the moment. The realization became more and more surreal as the shouting became louder and louder. Finally, she found herself in her families carriage, watching herself at sixteen and her father go at it over a decision that changed her life. "I don't care, Dati!" Midnight shouted at her father, her voice echoing in the ears of the rather surreal audience, although she was keeping her voice low enough so that nopony would hear their 'family' discussion. "I'm tired of this! All of this!" "What is there to be tired of?" He shouted back, angry at his own child's belligerence. She'd been like this ever since they'd moved out of Canterlot. He tried to see what life was in a single, static environment, apart from all of his friends and what may have well been his family among the caravan, but he just didn't like it. "All of your family and friends are among here, Midna!" "I had friends in Canterlot!" She answered, her rage now mixing in with sadness. "Their was a family there who actually liked me enough to make me a apart of their home!" Tears began to stream down her face. "I had a sister and a boyfriend!" She struggled to say boyfriend, but the words wouldn't leave her mouth. Her father, for whatever reason, hated the Equestrian nobility with a passion. "For the first time in years, I was happy somewhere else!" "Bah!" He brushed her outburst off as a simple female hormonal problem. "They do not know you like the caravan knows you, čhaj." He went back to writing, his grey telekinesis lifting his pencil up from the desk. "You simply need more time to re... what was that word you began to throw around when we lived in Canterlot? Acclimate?" "No, Dati, I won't!" She shouted, near the top of her lungs. "I... I was offered a position at the University in Fillydelphia!" She knew it wouldn't bring her back to her honorary family, though. "I'm going to become a research analyst!" "Think of what you will be leaving behind, Midna!" He looked at her dead in the eye, her head arriving only at her shoulder and fighting back the tears, one moment at a time. "Your teacher, Sigurd!" He was talking about that old griffin doctor that joined up with the caravan years ago. "Your mami! Everything in your whole world revolves or has revolved around the vitsa, and you're telling me that you mean to leave just because of some noble marime?!" She looked down, scourn now bleeding through her eyes, replacing the once escaping tears. "No, I want to leave because I'm tired of moving." She turned around, wings flared for take off as she began towards the intricate, violet hued curtain that separated her families wagon from the outside. Tears began to stream down her face as she bore witness to the last time she remembered seeing her father, a part of her regretting that she'd left on those terms and another wondering what had brought about this dream in the first place. "Midnight Strike!" He barked at her, stopping her for only an instant in the hopes that he'd change his mind. "You walk out that curtain and you will be no daughter of mine! You will be a lashav, with no name or family here!" "Don't," she tried to mutter to her dream self, knowing fully that it was a fruitless gesture. She turned her head back around to the cloudy fall sky, the cool breeze blowing her mane ever slow slightly as she calmed herself. "So be it, Rom Baro," and so she left, leaving behind a strong gust, scattering her fathers notes and studies as a final 'take that' to the life she was tired- ... Midnight Strike awoke to three hard knocks on the pine door. Startled, she fell over and off the couch, face first and a set of white blankets covering most of her body. "La naiba!" She let out a curse, her voice muffled and totally in audible to the want to be intruder. As she gathered her wits to combat the morning, she threw her blankets back on the surprisingly comfortable couch that made up the center of Silver Wings small, but cozy apartment. Honestly, she hardly believed him when he said that he had safe-houses located at different towns all over the country in case of an emergency. At first after taking him at his word, she asked what would possess him to feel the urge to fund at least a half a dozen stocked apartments all over the nation. He continued to reply with it 'being a very long and involved story concerning his favorite comic book, a brief stint as a vigilante his psychotic griffin ex-girlfriend'. Unsure if she should believe him or not, she simply elected to drop the matter entirely. Her eyes finally half way working, she found herself stopped and in some kind of admiration for a large tapestry hanging on the wall. It took her a moment for it to sink in, but she then realized that must have been the Silver Families personal coat of arms. Her natural curiosity now fixed upon the wall's drapery, she took a look at the features of it. It was the silhouette of a black wolf, with wings on it's back and talons instead of paws, howling towards the moon on a shield that was checkered silver and a darker shade of blue. On the bottom was writing, script written in old Equestrian. Rubbing the night time sand from her eyes, she struggled to read it, her old Equestrian was slightly rusty, nothing she couldn't work with, but the tapestry being worn the way it was did little to help. "Per flammas," she began, her ability to read the message on uneven ground. "et something ...-matur." She struggled for a minute to understand what it meant and may have unlocked the mystery as well, only the knocking became louder and louder, like whoever was on the other side was very quickly losing their patience. Three knocks repeated again, now souring Midnight's patience. "I'm coming! Stars, will you wait a moment?!" Finally, she made it to the door, opened to reveal the third member of their merry band of misfits. "Descent?" She asked, immediately covering up her nose with her left wing. "La naiba, that smell!" A reeking aroma of sweat, unknown foliage and several other things assaulted the Romaniegh's nostrils, leaving any kind of mercy at the door. Her hoof moved like lightning to cover up her nose. "What happened to you? You smell like the north end of a south bond goat!" He let loose a very long glare with his burning yellow eyes, filled with about as much disdain as he could muster, which, given how tired he was, was evidently quite a lot. "Look," I was up all night looking for the ursa cave," he began, rage seething from his voice. Really, it was one of the first genuine displays of emotion she'd seen him display. She would have declared it a breath of fresh air, only, well... "I was chased by a very hacked off and scared dragon, I fell into a nest of skunks, I had to beat up a cockatuce..." he took a deep breath. "TO MAKE IT STOP TRYING TO TURN ME INTO A LAWN ORNAMENT, and to top it all off, I smell like a minotaur's guest bathroom." "Do you feel any better now?" Midnight inquired, not wanted this conversation to go on any longer thanks to the stink, but electing to be polite simply out of preference. "Yes, thank you." He lowered his voice, throwing a large burlap sack of tomato soup cans on the wooden floors. "It took me two hours to find this place," he began again, only weakly, the long night having taken it's toll on the young stallion. "I'm taking a long bath, eating, then sleeping," he walked passed Midnight and into the apartment it's self, tracking in all many of fauna and dirt found in the Ever-free. "We're leaving in four hours." "Um..." she just let go all the insubordination he'd just thrown her way, knowing he'd had a hard night. "Alright?" He then turned his head as he walked through the safe house, seeing a couch with ruffled up blankets, pointing directly to where Midnight Strike was standing. "Did you sleep on the couch?" The smoky, grey mare rubbed her eyes, still trying to get all the sand out of them. "Yeah," she began. "Silver tried to show himself a 'gentlecolt' and sleep on the couch instead of me, bum arm and all, so I forced him on the bed," and then she realized the colossal, verbal mistake she'd just made, noticing a tell-tale smirk of her fellow operatives face. "And that came out something horrible, didn't it?" He smiled for an instant, then brushed off the verbal misstep as if it were nothing. "Don't care. I'm taking that bath now. Where is the mercenary anyway?" "Yo!" He shouted, announcing his presence to his team mates. "And it's freelancer! I've been up for the past few hours, passed by a bakery on the way back, got us some muffins and donuts and whatno-..." He paused for a moment, set the baked delights on the floor and then proceeded covered his nose and mouth. "What, in Luna's luscious Equestria, is that smell?" Midna let out a light chuckle, trying to hide it from under her wing. "Nothing. We're leaving here in four hours." ... The Ever-free forest was very hot and very muggy. It was the kind of day a mail pony would take a sick day on, despite any oath given, or a kid would try to hide from school from and, as Midnight walked next to her partner and the freelancer, she realized that would not blame either case in the slightest. A choking fog enveloped the area, making the young mare feel somewhat uneasy. She took a deep breath and continued leading the way, knowing she was made in charge of this assignment for a reason. As she continued to move, she saw several plants and animals she'd honestly thought she'd never see while stationed in the shadowbolt archives. In fact, she;d nearly fallen into poison joke twice, and if not for her fast thinking, well, she chose not to consider which part of her body would become nothing more than a cruel representation of what she held the most pride in. The young noble, Silver Wing, let out a very long yawn before choosing to walk on the forest floor, broken arm and all. He landed next to Midnight Strike, his near grey coat almost blending in with the natural white fog and haze surrounding the team. "Are you alright?" Midnight finally asked as he began to lag behind somewhat. "I'm fine," he answered back, his voice somewhat monotone. "Just tired. I'm not used to working with a team. It's kind'a throwing me off." "You aren't use to working with other oemeni?" She pressed, hoping for some kind of explanation. He shook his head, more of the damp, warm air matting to his fur. "No, not since New Maredri- wait," he stopped for a moment. "What's an 'oemeni'?" She smiled, a cool fall breeze brushing past her back. "It's a Romaneigh word," she began to explain, their merry band of misfits continually walking towards their destination. "It means 'clan of many nations'. For as long as we can remember, ever since our home land of gradina pereți was burnt to the ground, we've been a tribe of mismatched... beings, so it only seems right for our culture would have a word for it." "Uh huh..." the weary stallion began to digest what she'd said, taking it in word for word. "I get it. It's like your province or something." "Well, I don't know if it's as clear cut as all that, but-" "We're here," Descent responded, happy that their conversation was at an end. There all three of them stood, in front of a very large cave, right in the middle of the Ever-Free forest. "Finally." ... "Eeyup," the silver stallion began as he started a gaping stone maw within the ever free, small bags formed under his eyes. "That's a cave," he pointed. "Thank you, Star Swirl the Bearded," Midnight proceeded to snark. "Pleasure's all mine, Clover the Clever," he replied back, her disingenuous assertion barely registering on his sonar. "Are you totally immune to sarcasm?" She bit back. "Only the sarcasm of painfully cute and exotic mares," he then proceeded to wink at her, the smoky mare frankly just stunned and not really sure how to react to what just happened. "Will you two stop?" Descent cut in, by now being the only one paying attention to the situation at hoof. "We need to figure out how we're going to do this." "Well," the brown eyed pegasus began. "Ursa's are usually fiercely territorial, so if we want an imprint of Twilight Sparkle's magic to track her by, we should only send in one of us, with the others staying behind." That caused Silver's eyes to widen. Without either of them noticing, he looked over both of them, seeing that they were both thinking about who should be the one that has to go in the dark cavern. His two accomplices continued to just stared at him, wondering why he was suddenly so calm with eyes so dilated, like he was purposefully keeping his mouth shut for the first time sense this mission began. The young noble looked at both of them, irritation creeping into what had once been a rather jovial, if not somewhat exhausted, mood. "What?" "We're kind of waiting..." Midnight began, not being totally clear on what they were waiting for. "For?" "It's just," the mare blended in with the shadows provided, courtesy of the Ever-free, and looked into the darkness of the cave as she spoke. "This kind of thing seems right up your ally." "Taking on an ursa in a cave seems up my ally?" He gave her a confused and annoyed look. "Yes?" "I..." he thought about it for a moment, then conceited the point. "Okay, yeah, I guess it does, but still," he paused, looking into the cave with an increasingly visible sense of anxiety. "I'd prefer it not be me that goes in there. I'm not a fan of going into places I can't see in or can't get out of." Descent just stared at him, now satisfied that he could get a few good licks in after everything that happened the other day. "It sounds to me that your claustrophobic." "I am claustrophobic," he shot a glare that seemed out of character for him, or at least given how long Midna had known the silver stallion. "Is that a problem, Descent? Does that annoy you?" The two just stared at each other for what seemed like hours, though in truth it was only maybe ten seconds. It was still more awkward than the smoky mare liked, though. "Alright, enough you two," she broke the tension, thick enough to serve on a sandwich and call a full meal. "First off, it's 'spelunkaphobia'. Get it right. Second," she looked to her partner in this mission. "Descent, you have the greatest chance of getting in there without being noticed. And what with all the other animals in the Ever-free that you so eloquently mentioned earlier today, I think it may be best if I stayed here to make sure they didn't eat the mercenary." "Freelancer," Silver cut in. "Shut up," she ignored. She threw her bag down and took out a small rock, adorned with very old styled runes and inscriptions. "Here's the null magic stone. If the report is accurate, then the ursa should have a sizable imprint of Twilight's magic still yet." "Fine," he made an abrupt snatch of the anti-magical rock and then turned, heading into the darkness that held a star beast. He took a deep breath and then a long walk. "I bucking hate this job." ... He simply walked into the den of the great star beast, making sure each and every hoof step was quiet as a leaf in a hurricane. It was a skills he'd long since honed while training to be a shadowbolt and, indeed, seemed to be as natural an extension of himself as his own two wings. He continued to move with wraith like stealth, he took a moment to admire the null-magic stone, taking it out with his wing and gazing upon it's gentle green glow. Linguistic skills or anthropology had never been his strong suit. In fact, he had only a passing knowledge of Cabalerian and that was it, but even he could tell that it took a great deal of magic to to craft this thing. An even more admirable trait given that it's purpose was intended to shut down magic. The logic of how that was even possible nearly made his head spin, so he continued onward, hoping to end this day with less injuries or complications than he began it with. He forged ahead into the darkness of the cave and began to view it with some of the same fear he'd seen take the mercenary. It was dark, the only vague traces of light hailing from alchemical stone in his saddle bags and what must have been the bio-luminescence of the ursa's off in the distance. It was also damp, fitting the chilled time of year exactly, evident by the cooled puddles that Decent had accidentally waded into upon entering the long caverns only a minute ago prior. As he moved further and further into the cave dwelling of the star beast and it's mother, he took note of his heart racing as the brightness increased. He now understood why Silver had been so hesitant to enter this cave in the first place. The contrast of the deep, dark and penetrating darkness and the shining body, woven from the night sky itself, of a beast that could tear him a sunder without a second thought began to pervade the young operatives mind. The comparison between the two just did not seem natural to the stallion. But, even as trepidation began to pervade his being, he moved ever onward, knowing what was at stake should he fail here and his accomplice and the hired help never obtain the rogue Twilight's magical imprint. He took a deep a breath as he began to hear the faint sound of flapping and squeaking. He looked up and swore under his breath. "Well buck my life," he requested, gazing upon a never ending cloud of bats. ... She looked at the silver noble, leaning up against a tall ever-free oak, his eyes closed and limb broken, basking in the light filtered from the branches up high, loosing their leaves to the time where Equestria began to rest itself for the Spring and Summer seasons. She took an especially long look at his face, once jovial, now serious as he appeared to slumber. His countenance seemed as though he was a far cry from the witless fool he portrayed himself. Indeed, it almost seemed as if that was his- "You're starring," he announced to her mid thought, his dead-serious expression morphing into one of amusement, his blue eyes still closed, and the high noon sun beaming straight upon his face from one of the few places the branches from on high didn't cover. "How did you-" "Because it was too quiet," he cut her off, answering her question before she'd even finished. "And you seem the type to avoid awkward silences, judging by how many questions you like to ask or how much you like explaining things." He then opened his blue eyes and turned his head towards her. "So what's up?" "I, um..." she was actually some what embarrassed by the way he'd caught her eying him up. It wasn't out of attraction. More so it was about the way he carried himself and how he acted this time of day meant nothing to him. Through out her training, one thing remained consistent in every candidate she'd seen: even with the conditioning, they were all at least somewhat unnerved by the sun at high noon. But not this stallion. The way he moved and acted, it was as if the warmth of the day was truly his natural element. Perhaps that's why he left the shadowbolts, because he hated the shadows, she mused to herself, still not coming up with something to ask. "It's just, you seem so calm under the sun..." "Right," he smiled in acknowledgement, sitting up from the tree and grimacing from the cracked ribs. "What about it?" "Well," she began, knowing about where to start. "You don't really show any anxiety around noon, like most ponies. Even among the oameni, everyone from ponies and cows to griffins tried to rest midday , ' she paused for a moment to catch a breath. ", But, naiba, you seem totally at ease." "Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "But not only that," she continued. "Earlier, you called Corona her name from before her fall, 'Celestia'," she looked at him with greater concern. "Why?" He raised both eyebrows now, then took back to laying against the oak at his back. "Call it a quirky philosophical view point," he opened his eyes, gazing at the light beaming down upon his face. "The Princess renaming her sister was an act of guilt, nothing more." He looked back to his retainer, then once more at the sky, his voice taking a more somber tone. "What Corona did was bucked up, don't get me wrong but," he took a long pause, like this view point was much more personal than anything your average idle commentator would have. "But her majesty is lying to herself if she thinks the pony her sister was once was gone for good," his gaze at the beams of the summer sun poking through the canopy became more vacant, like his mind was briefly leaving the area. "It's a disservice to the alicorn that helped led pony kind out of the muck." "Some would say that by renaming her sister, the Princess was shielding the memory of the good Celestia did while damning the ill of Corona," Midnight argued back. "Maybe," he began to take out a toothpick from his saddle bag, a nervous twitch, Midnight was sure, but nothing worrying. "Those sound like like a much deeper philosophies than what would be expected from a mere mercenary, Silver," she argued. "Please" he looked back to her. "I'm anything but a mere mercenary," his expression picked back up. "I'm a freelancer. And you have to remember, I am the heir of the late, great Baron Silver Bolt XII, so a high quality education would have been thrown into that package," a smug smirk then crept onto his face. "And then there's the whole thing with me once being the 'paragon of the shadowbolts'." She could tell from his face that he loved saying that, although she wasn't quite sure whether or not it was out of pride for his supposed former position or because he just liked saying the word 'paragon'. "But now you're a rogue freelancer." His smile grew wider, now showing just a little bit of teeth. "I'd prefer to call myself a dashing gentlecolt of fortune, out there fighting for the right. A single agent of justice out in a cold, cruel world," he let out a small chuckle. "A 'para-gone-rogue', if you will." "Now you're just making fun of me," she let out a small laugh herself. "Only a little bit," he smiled back, returning the laughter. Silence fell upon the two for a few seconds before Midna opened up again. "You know, Descent's been in there for quite a while..." "Nah," he shot down nonchalantly. "He can handle himself. "Guy's probably having the time of his life." ... I bucking hate today, he thought to himself, angrier than maybe even Corona after freeing herself from the sun those months ago. Surprisingly, that had been happening a lot ever since he'd started this mission with the noble and the Romaneigh. Slowly but surely, he moved like a grim reaper, silent and unnoticed, through the great cavern, carefully inching himself as cautiously as he could so as not to disturb the huge cloud of bats atop the ceiling and stalactites above him. He knew that even the slightest noise could alert the winged rodents and, in turn, alert the giant star beast awaiting at the far end of the tunnel. If I knew what today would be like, he mused to himself, a cocktail of rage and fear mixing and filling every corner of his mind. Then I wouldn't have signed up for this stupid plot mission mission. But he did, so instead of complaining further, he steeled himself like the mighty girders that made up the Manehatten skyline and forged ahead, content at the very least in the fact that this was something that mercenary couldn't do in a million life times. He moved closer and closer, the light of the ursa's glowing brighter and fear now being the primary ingredient in the emotional martini within his mind. Finally, he made it: he was in the very pit of the ursa's home. Their bright light was near blinding to him as the many shades of blue and silver flooded his eyes and mind with further trepidation, feeling even his resolve of tempered steel begin to bend as a result. "Holy buck," he whispered, forgetting for an instant exactly where he was. His eyes went wide open, then back to normal as he realized it hadn't been loud enough to awaken the small, fury inhabitants of the den. He gulped, wishing himself good luck, and then took to the air with all the speed of a paraplegic humming bird. Funny, he began to think to himself with no small level of scorn in his voice. All those times those recruiters called me a ghost or a wraith during training, and here I am, about to become one. Like a moth to a lantern, he hovered ever closer to the star spangled monster, carefully with the null-magic stone in hoof, the only thing capable of efficiently tracking a rogue, teleport happy unicorn and shutting down her magic at the same time. Almost there, he chanted, almost done, almost won. Finally, face to face with the ursa minor and grateful that it's mother's hearing was no better, he moved the stone just before it's enormous head and watched as gentle green glow of the null-magic stone, an artifact crafted from the greatest alchemists in Equestria, became adorned with an equally soft lavender hue, a series of stars appearing as the central symbol of the stone. The ursa was still asleep and, with that, Descent left the cave, joy, relief, and fear now mixed into a new emotional cocktail for him to enjoy as soon as he was out of the star forsaken place. For the first time all day, the ex-burglar smiled. Maybe there was a little pride swimming around in there as well. END OF PART ONE